Latest / Ramses the Great: Egypt's Most Powerful Pharaoh — Fexingo History / Ramses II's Homecoming: The Colossus of Tanis
Transcript
- Lucas: So we've talked a lot about Ramses' building projects — Abu Simbel, the Ramesseum, Pi-Ramesses. But there's one monument that feels almost like an afterthought in the histories, and it's actually one of his most audacious. I'm talking about the colossal statue he commissioned for the city of Tanis. Luna: Tanis — that's in the Delta, right? Not exactly the usual place for a massive royal statue. Lucas: Exactly. Tanis was a relatively minor settlement in the northeastern Delta, nowhere near the prestige of Thebes or Memphis. But Ramses had his reasons. He was born in the Delta region, and he spent much of his reign building up Pi-Ramesses as his northern capital. Tanis, about 30 kilometers to the north, became a kind of secondary power center — a place where he could cement his presence in the north. Luna: So he wanted a colossal statue there to make a statement. Lucas: Exactly. And not just any statue — this thing was massive. It was carved from a single block of quartzite, some estimates say around 100 tons. It was quarried at Gebel el-Ahmar, near modern Cairo, about 150 kilometers south of Tanis. That's a hell of a journey for a 100-ton stone. Luna: How on earth did they move it? Lucas: The same way they moved all the big stuff — sledges, ropes, and thousands of workers. They likely used the Nile flood season to float it part of the way on barges. The Pelusiac branch of the Nile ran right past Tanis, so they could bring the stone right up to the temple site. The actual overland leg from the quarry to the river was probably only a few kilometers, but even that would have been a monumental effort. Luna: I've read that they sometimes used water channels to lubricate the sand in front of the sledge. Lucas: Yes, that's a key technique. There's a famous wall painting at Deir el-Bersha showing a colossus being dragged, with a man pouring water in front of the sledge. That reduces friction dramatically. For a 100-ton statue, you'd need a crew of several hundred, maybe a thousand, pulling in unison. And you'd need to coordinate the whole thing with the Nile's rhythm — you want the water high enough to float the barge, but not so high that it floods your ramp. Luna: So this wasn't just brute force — it required serious planning. Lucas: Absolutely. The Egyptians were masters of logistics. They had a whole bureaucracy dedicated to quarrying and transport. The workmen at Deir el-Medina, for instance, were specialists in stone working, but for a job like this, you'd also conscript local labor — farmers during the flood season when they weren't working the fields. And you'd need engineers to design the sledges, the ramps, the barges. It's a whole industry. Luna: And when the statue finally arrived at Tanis, what happened? Lucas: It was erected in the forecourt of the temple of Amun-Re. The temple itself was a typical Ramesside foundation — a pylon, a courtyard, a hypostyle hall. The colossus would have dominated the space, showing the god and the king side by side. But here's the interesting part: Tanis wasn't just a political statement. It was also a theological one. The main god of Tanis was Amun-Re, but the city also had a strong cult of Seth, the chaotic god of storms and the desert. Ramses' own family, the 19th Dynasty, had strong ties to Seth — his father Seti I even named one of his sons after Seth. Luna: So by building at Tanis, he was aligning himself with Seth's power. Lucas: Partly. But it's complicated. Seth was often seen as a disruptive force, even evil. But in the Delta, especially around Pi-Ramesses, he was worshipped as a protector. Ramses was walking a fine line — embracing Seth's strength while still keeping Amun-Re as the supreme god. The colossus probably depicted Ramses offering to Amun-Re, with the king's name written as 'Userrenput-aanehktu' — his throne name meaning 'Rich in Years, Great in Victories'. Luna: That name really sums up his self-image, doesn't it? Lucas: It does. And the statue itself was meant to broadcast that image for eternity. But here's the twist — the statue didn't stay in its original place for long. After Ramses died, the 20th Dynasty declined, and by the Third Intermediate Period, Tanis became the capital of the northern pharaohs under Smendes. They reused Ramses' monuments — his colossus was reinscribed with their names. So the statue ended up representing not just Ramses, but the whole idea of pharaonic power, recycled for new kings. Luna: It's like the ultimate example of ancient recycling. They didn't break it down — they just updated the label. Lucas: Exactly. And that's part of why Tanis is such a rich site. It's a palimpsest of centuries of rule. The colossus of Ramses II stands there, but it's surrounded by statues of later kings who claimed it for themselves. It's a reminder that monuments aren't just about the original builder — they're about the ongoing story of power. Luna: And speaking of ongoing stories — we should mention that this show is ad-free, and we keep it that way thanks to listeners like you. Lucas: Yeah, that's a good point. We don't run ads because we want the history to speak for itself, without interruption. If that's something you value, you can support us at buy me a coffee dot com slash fexingo. It's a small gesture that keeps these conversations going. Luna: It really does make a difference. And now, back to Tanis — what happened to the statue after the Third Intermediate Period? Lucas: It stayed standing for centuries. The temple at Tanis was still active in the Ptolemaic period, and the colossus was probably still visible. But eventually, the city declined. The Pelusiac branch silted up, and Tanis was abandoned. The statue fell over — maybe in an earthquake, maybe just from neglect. When archaeologists found it in the 19th century, it was lying broken in the sand. Today, parts of it are in the Egyptian Museum in Cairo, and some fragments are still at Tanis. Luna: So it's not complete anymore, but it still tells a story. Lucas: Absolutely. Every crack and chip is a record of its journey — from the quarry at Gebel el-Ahmar, to the river, to the temple, to the fall, to the museum. It's a physical link to Ramses' ambition and the labor of thousands of people. And it's a reminder that even the mightiest pharaohs eventually see their works become ruins, but those ruins still speak to us. Luna: It makes you wonder what future archaeologists will make of our own monuments. Lucas: That's the kind of question that keeps historians up at night. But for now, we've got the stones to keep us grounded.