The importance of death in everyday Egyptian life

By Garry Shaw for Apollo Magazine

Often, exhibitions of ancient Egyptian artefacts divide their galleries into objects of ‘daily life’ and those associated with ‘burial and the afterlife’, despite most of the objects deriving from the excavation of burials, and the majority of these having been used in life. The Egyptians themselves would probably have been bemused by this division; to them, death was a transition to a different state of being, where life continued. True death only occurred following the judgement by Osiris, king of the blessed dead, when a person could be sentenced to obliteration. To some degree then, preparation for death was a bit like considering what to pack for a move abroad; many of the items used in life would be just as useful in the beyond.

Nevertheless, throughout the Pharaonic Period (3030–332 BC) – the timeframe usually covered by ‘ancient Egypt’ – certain objects specifically associated with death and the rituals necessary for continued survival, such as coffins, had to be specially produced. This is why today, thousands of Egyptian coffins can be found in museums across the world – they are a staple of any collection, and along with mummies, are what museum-goers expect to see. Whether box-like or anthropoid, their wooden surfaces painted with images in striking colours of unusual deities and hieroglyphs, coffins represent ancient Egypt, symbolise it, and in turn, reinforce the popular cliché that the ancient Egyptians were a civilisation obsessed with death – a cliché often countered by Egyptologists, who insist that the Egyptians dedicated so much time to preparing for death because they loved life and feared its end.

Passing on

The funeral rituals of ancient Egypt and the belief in celestial resurrection have bequeathed an unusual legacy and an essential artistic record for their descendants and for scholars.
Jenny Jobbins shows that although times changed, many of the old funeral customs lingered on

The painting in the Theban Valley of the Nobles, on the south wall of the tomb of Ramose, a governor of Thebes and vizier during the reigns of Amenophis III and Amenophis IV in the 18th Dynasty, shows a group of female mourners wailing in lamentation. Other images of funeral processions show mourners waving palm branches. Palms — a symbol of longevity, rebirth and the afterlife — have long been associated with death. They were cast before Christ as he entered Jerusalem to be tried and crucified, and they are still placed on graves in Egypt, where they are said to bring a blessing on the grave.

Many years ago I discussed this rich heritage with the Egyptologist Kamal Al-Mallakh, who referred to the Mosque of Abu Haggag within the walls of Luxor Temple and the similarity of the events at his moulid (saint’s day), when a model of his boat is ceremoniously carried through the streets of Luxor, to the ancient Feast of Opet when Amun’s sacred boat was carried from Karnak to Luxor Temple. He told me: “There has to be some significance. Isn’t [Abu Haggag’s] mosque right there in the temple? And some of the rights at his moulid are purely pharaonic.”