Latest / Ramses the Great: Egypt's Most Powerful Pharaoh — Fexingo History / Ramses the Great's Smiting Scenes: The Art of Pharaoh as Warrior
Transcript
- Lucas: You know how we've talked about Ramses II building temples everywhere, covering them with reliefs of his battles and ceremonies. There's one image that shows up again and again — the pharaoh gripping a bunch of enemies by the hair, raising a mace to smash their heads in. Egyptologists call it the 'smiting scene.' Luna: Right, you see it on pylons, on statue bases, on the sides of thrones — it's almost like his signature. Lucas: Exactly. And it wasn't invented by Ramses. The pose goes back at least to the Narmer Palette, around 3100 BCE — that's fifteen hundred years before Ramses. Narmer is shown doing the exact same thing: holding a kneeling captive by the hair, about to strike with a mace. So by the time Ramses uses it, it's an ancient, sacred formula. Luna: So every pharaoh who had himself shown that way was connecting himself to the very first kings. Lucas: Yes, and to the god Horus — the divine king who defeats chaos. The smiting scene isn't just a battle report. It's a ritual statement that the pharaoh is maintaining ma'at — cosmic order — by destroying isfet, chaos. The enemies represent disorder: foreigners, rebels, anyone who threatens Egypt. Lucas: Ramses took this and ran with it. You can find smiting scenes at Abu Simbel, at the Ramesseum, at Karnak, at Luxor, at practically every monument he built. He's not shy about labeling the victims, either. Hieroglyphic captions often name the specific chief or tribe. Luna: So we can actually identify who he's supposed to be smiting? Lucas: In many cases, yes. At Abu Simbel, on the facade of the great temple, there's a famous scene of Ramses smiting Libyan captives. The cartouche naming them includes 'Libya' and 'the chief Mesher.' Another scene at Karnak shows him smiting a Hittite — probably not a real person, but a symbol of the Hittites he fought at Kadesh. And at the Ramesseum, you get whole walls of smiting scenes mixed in with the Kadesh battle reliefs. Luna: Wait — the Kadesh reliefs. Those are supposed to show a victory, but we know from Hittite records it was more of a draw. So the smiting scenes there are rewriting history? Lucas: Absolutely. The Ramesseum's so-called 'Kadesh Poem' and accompanying reliefs portray Ramses single-handedly routing the Hittite army after his forces fled. In one panel, he's shown smiting Hittite soldiers while his chariot charges. It's propaganda, but it's also a theological statement — the pharaoh, empowered by Amun, cannot lose. The smiting scene makes that visible. Luna: It's almost like he's performing the victory magically. Every time someone sees the image, the enemy is destroyed again. Lucas: That's exactly the idea. These scenes functioned like execration texts — magical formulas meant to neutralize enemies in the afterlife. By carving them in stone, Ramses was ensuring that his dominance would last forever. The enemies aren't just defeated; they're cursed for eternity. Lucas: There's also a practical angle. The smiting scene is incredibly efficient iconography. In one glance, you understand: this king is powerful, his enemies are weak, and the gods are on his side. It's the ancient equivalent of a campaign poster that never gets taken down. Luna: Did Ramses ever depict himself smiting Egyptians? Or was it always foreigners? Lucas: Almost always foreigners. The enemy is by definition 'the other' — Libyans, Nubians, Asiatics, Hittites, Sea Peoples. Smiting an Egyptian would be like attacking yourself. But there are rare scenes of a king smashing Egyptian criminals, though they're much less common. For Ramses, the message was clear: he defended Egypt's borders from the chaotic outside. Lucas: And the smiting scene isn't limited to Ramses. It continued through the rest of Egyptian history, right into the Ptolemaic and Roman periods. Even Augustus had himself shown as pharaoh smiting enemies on temple walls at Philae. So it's one of the most durable images in all of ancient art. Luna: Honestly, if today was worth a coffee to you, that's the link — buy me a coffee dot com slash fexingo. Lucas: Yeah, that's it. For anyone coming with us through these conversations about North Africa and the ancient world, the show stays ad-free thanks to listeners who chip in. Just the smallest gesture. Luna: And you can do it right now, while the image of Ramses with a mace is fresh in your mind. Lucas: Exactly. So back to those smiting scenes — one detail I love is that Ramses didn't just show himself smiting enemies on temple walls. He also had the scene carved on the bases of his colossal statues, so anyone walking past would literally be walking over the defeated foes. It's a tactile, spatial statement of dominance. Luna: Oh, like at the Ramesseum, where the fallen enemies are carved on the sides of the huge seated statue? Lucas: Yes, exactly. The famous broken colossus of Ramses at the Ramesseum — the one that inspired Shelley's 'Ozymandias' — has rows of bound captives on its base. They're a mix of Nubians, Libyans, and Asiatics, each labeled by name. So even as the statue crumbled, the message of domination was still legible. Lucas: It makes you wonder: was Ramses insecure about his legacy? He built more monuments and carved more scenes than any pharaoh before him. The smiting motif seems almost obsessive. Luna: Maybe he needed to keep telling himself — and everyone else — that he was the invincible warrior king. Lucas: That's plausible. The reality of his reign included episodes like Kadesh, which was at best a tactical draw, and his later diplomatic marriage to a Hittite princess, which signaled peace rather than conquest. The smiting scenes may have been a way to project an image of strength that the messy facts didn't always support. Lucas: But there's also a religious dimension. In Egyptian theology, the pharaoh is Horus, the son of Osiris, who vanquishes Seth, the god of chaos. Every smiting scene reenacts that cosmic battle. So Ramses wasn't just bragging; he was performing a sacred duty. Luna: So when he carved the scene at Abu Simbel, he was both declaring his power and ensuring the universe stayed in order. Lucas: Right. And the placement mattered. At Abu Simbel, the smiting scene is right at the entrance, flanked by colossal statues of the king. Every visitor, whether Egyptian or foreign, had to pass under it. For Nubian envoys coming north, it was a stark reminder of who was in charge. Lucas: There's another layer: the smiting scene often includes a goddess — usually Neith or Weret Hekau — who hands the pharaoh the mace or sword. That divine endorsement makes the act more than just violence; it's a sacred execution. Luna: So the goddess is saying, 'Go ahead, this is sanctioned.' Lucas: Precisely. And the enemies are often shown with their arms tied behind their backs, kneeling, sometimes with their names written in a cartouche that's being struck. It's ritualized, almost like a formal ceremony of defeat. Lucas: One of the most elaborate smiting scenes is at the Ramesseum, on the outer wall of the first pylon. It shows Ramses smiting a group of enemies, but the scene is surrounded by texts that list the conquered cities and peoples. It's a visual and textual declaration of empire. Luna: Do we know if the enemies depicted were real specific individuals, or just generic stand-ins? Lucas: Sometimes they're generic, but often they're specific. The Libyan chief Mesher is a real historical figure — he's mentioned in other texts. Same with some Nubian chiefs. The Hittite prince shown being smited may have been a symbolic figure, but the point is clear: Ramses defeated real, named enemies. Lucas: There's also the 'smiting of the Sea Peoples' scenes at Medinet Habu, though that temple was built by Ramses III. But Ramses II also had run-ins with the Sherden and other Sea Peoples, and he depicted them being crushed in similar poses. Luna: So the motif was flexible enough to be updated with each new threat. Lucas: Exactly. And it continued long after Ramses. The Ptolemies and Romans adopted it, but they often had the pharaoh smiting enemies that looked Egyptian — showing that the image had become a generic symbol of royal power, detached from specific ethnicities. Lucas: One final thought: the smiting scene is so iconic that it's been used as a shorthand for 'ancient Egypt' in popular culture. You see it in movies, video games, even political cartoons. It's a testament to how effective that image was — and still is. Luna: It really does capture something essential about how pharaohs wanted to be seen. Thanks for diving into that, Lucas. Lucas: My pleasure. Next time you see a statue of Ramses, check the base — you might spot a few enemies getting their heads bashed in.