Prestige, Protection, and the Power of Ambiguity: Female Ivory Terminals in the Egyptian Levant

by Mary Harrsch © 2026

This carved ivory tusk terminal with a female head that I photographed at the Institute for the Study of Ancient Cultures at the University of Chicago from Stratum VIIA at Megiddo (Late Bronze IIB, ca. 1300–1200 BCE) belongs to a broader corpus of Levantine luxury ivories associated with palatial environments operating under Egyptian imperial administration. Produced from imported elephant ivory and integrated into handles, staffs, or furniture fittings, such objects functioned as elite prestige goods within the interconnected “international style” of the Late Bronze eastern Mediterranean.

Carved tusk with female head dated to the Late Bronze IIB Age (1300-1200 BCE) found in Stratum VIIA at Megiddo. Photographed by Mary Harrsch at the Institute for the Study of Ancient Cultures (formerly the Oriental Institute) at the University of Chicago.

My research revealed despite the common shorthand “ivory,” these tusks were almost certainly carved from elephant ivory rather than hippopotamus. By the Late Bronze Age, Levantine ivory overwhelmingly derived from Asian or Syrian elephants (Elephas maximus and related populations, now extinct), whose range extended into northern Syria and the upper Euphrates, as well as from African elephant ivory imported indirectly via Egypt. Hippopotamus ivory, while used earlier and more commonly in Egyptian contexts, is denser and structurally distinct; the curvature, scale, and hollowed preparation of this example are consistent with elephant tusk sections intentionally prepared for carving.

Female heads overwhelmingly dominate anthropomorphic ivory terminals in the Levant. Male heads are known but are far less common and tend to appear in more restricted contexts. When present, male terminals are typically bearded or helmeted and associated with martial or authoritative attributes, evoking kingship, guardianship, or heroic masculinity. Unlike female heads, male terminals often carry more specific iconographic signals of identity and power, which may have limited their adaptability within the cosmopolitan elite assemblages characteristic of sites such as Megiddo.

Animal-headed terminals are also well attested, particularly in ivories associated with furniture and ceremonial equipment. Lions symbolized power and protection; sphinxes and hybrid creatures served explicitly apotropaic roles; and caprids or bovids were commonly associated with vitality and abundance. These animal terminals were especially effective when placed at liminal points—bed corners, chair arms, or staff ends—where symbolic protection was both visually and conceptually reinforced.

For much of the twentieth century, scholarship routinely identified female ivory heads with specific goddesses—most often Ishtar/Inanna or her West Semitic counterparts Astarte and Ashtart. These interpretations emerged from culture-historical and diffusionist models that sought to align archaeological imagery with known textual pantheons and assumed a close correspondence between iconography and cult practice. In this framework, formal resemblance often outweighed archaeological context, even when such objects were recovered from palatial or administrative settings rather than temples or votive deposits.

From the late twentieth century onward, however, this interpretive certainty began to erode. Influenced by developments in art history, semiotics, and Near Eastern studies, scholars increasingly questioned whether the absence of diagnostic attributes should be treated as a problem of identification or understood as an intentional visual strategy. Post-iconographic approaches reframed female ivory heads not as portraits of named deities but as generalized feminine types whose meanings were activated by context, audience, and use.

This shift is especially significant in Egyptian-administered centers such as Megiddo, where elite material culture circulated within a politically plural and theologically heterogeneous environment. Visual symbols needed to be intelligible—and acceptable—to Egyptian officials, local Levantine elites, and foreign emissaries alike. A tightly specified divine identity would have constrained an object’s semiotic range. By contrast, an abstracted female head could function simultaneously as Hathoric, Astarte-like, or broadly “goddess-associated,” depending on the viewer, without committing to a single cult tradition.

More recent agency- and materiality-based scholarship has further reframed these objects by emphasizing what they did rather than whom they depicted. Carved from exotic elephant ivory and embedded in high-status furnishings or ceremonial equipment, female terminals are now understood as mediators of power, protection, and legitimacy within elite spaces. Their effectiveness lay precisely in their indeterminacy by evoking an Egyptianized elite feminine persona rather than a named deity so they could operate across cultural boundaries and imperial hierarchies. This calibrated ambiguity is further reinforced by selective Egyptianizing features, such as the rigid, sharply vertical fitted headdress, which signals proximity to Egyptian authority and courtly status without asserting divine or royal identity. It is somewhat reminiscent of the crown of Nefertiti.

Although the Amarna period predates Late Bronze IIB Megiddo by roughly a century, the visual memory of Amarna court aesthetics persisted in Egyptian-controlled regions of the Levant. Egyptian administrative centers continued to deploy selective courtly motifs long after Akhenaten’s reign, particularly those that communicated intimacy with Egyptian authority, cultural sophistication, and participation in imperial visual language.

Female ivory terminals thus exemplify how Late Bronze Age elites negotiated religion, power, and diplomacy through imagery that was potent precisely because it remained ambiguous. The historiographic shift from deity identification to contextual and functional analysis reflects a broader reassessment of ancient visual culture—one that recognizes ambiguity not as interpretive failure, but as a deliberate and meaningful artistic choice.

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Egyptianized International Fashion, Solar Theology, and Elite Identity in Third Intermediate Period Egypt

Mary Harrsch © 2026

This Third Intermediate Period stela (Dynasty 22, ca. 946–735 BCE), found in the Ramesseum at Thebes that I photographed at the Institute for the Study of Ancient Cultures at the University of Chicago, depicts an elite deceased woman interacting directly with the hawk-headed solar god Re-Horakhty. At first glance, the most striking feature is her dress—particularly the long, sweeping looped sleeves, rendered as nearly transparent.

Funerary stela of an elite woman, Third Intermediate Period, Dynasty 22 (ca. 946–735 BCE), from the Ramesseum, Thebes. The deceased is shown offering to the solar god Re-Horakhty (“Re, Horus of the Two Horizons”), a deity associated with cosmic transition and daily renewal. Her long, sweeping looped sleeves reflect Egyptianized international fashion of the early Iron Age: a Near Eastern garment silhouette translated into ultra-fine linen appropriate for Theban temple and funerary contexts, rather than the heavy wool sleeves worn by elites in the Levant and Mesopotamia. The hieroglyphic text addresses Re-Horakhty directly on behalf of the woman’s ka and affirms her status as “justified”. Photograph by Mary Harrsch, Institute for the Study of Ancient Cultures, University of Chicago.

These sleeves are not merely decorative. Their form reflects eastern Mediterranean fashion currents circulating in the early Iron Age. In the Levant, northern Syria, and Mesopotamia (ca. 1100–700 BCE), elite men and women are frequently shown wearing long, pendant sleeves constructed of wool—heavy, opaque, and structural garments visible in Neo-Hittite, Aramaean, and Neo-Assyrian reliefs. There, sleeve length and bulk functioned as markers of rank, wealth, and authority.

Egyptian artists of the Third Intermediate Period selectively adopted this silhouette while rejecting the material logic. In a Theban temple and funerary context, wool was inappropriate, particularly for individuals associated with ritual purity. Instead, the sleeves here are rendered as ultra-fine linen, indicated visually through translucency and the visibility of the arm beneath the cloth. The result is a deliberate cultural translation: an internationally fashionable form recast in Egypt’s most prestigious and ritually acceptable textile.

The deity before whom the woman stands is equally significant. The museum identifies him correctly as Re-Horakhty (“Re, Horus of the Two Horizons”), a composite solar god who embodies the sun’s daily movement between horizon, sky, and underworld. Unlike Horus as a god of kingship and political legitimacy, Re-Horakhty is a deity of transition, renewal, and cosmic passage, making him especially appropriate for non-royal funerary monuments in this period.

Re-Horakhty first emerges prominently in the Old Kingdom as a distinctly royal and solar deity. Depicted as a falcon-headed man crowned with a solar disk, he embodies the rising sun and serves as a symbol of the king’s divine authority. In this period, his worship was largely centered on the pharaoh and the elite, appearing in royal mortuary temples and the tombs of high officials, where he reinforced cosmic order (maat) and legitimized the king’s intermediary role between gods and humanity. Non-royal Egyptians were largely excluded from direct devotion to Re-Horakhty, encountering him primarily through elite funerary iconography and solar symbolism integrated into broader cult practices.

By the Third Intermediate Period, however, Re-Horakhty’s cult had evolved in both scope and accessibility. Political fragmentation and the growing prominence of local priesthoods, especially in Upper Egypt, allowed commoners and regional elites alike to participate in solar worship, often through temple festivals, votive offerings, funerary inscriptions, and personal amulets invoking his regenerative power. Some individuals began adopting solar epithets in personal names (e.g., “Ra-em-herakhty”), showing reverence for the deity in private life.

His identity increasingly merged with that of Amun-Ra, linking the solar cycle to broader cosmic and moral order while maintaining his protective and regenerative associations. Over time, Re-Horakhty transitioned from a symbol of exclusive royal authority to a divinity whose solar power and promises of rebirth were approachable by both elite and common Egyptians, reflecting the democratization of certain aspects of religion during periods of political decentralization.

I was surprised to learn ChatGPT could actually decipher the hieroglyphic text beneath the winged solar disk. It is short but theologically focused. Although portions are worn, the structure is clear and typical of Dynasty 22 Theban stelae:

“Words spoken to Re-Horakhty, Lord of the Sky, Ruler of the Horizon, for the ka of the God’s Servant [name lost], justified.”

This is not a judgment scene and not a conventional offering formula. Instead, it is a statement of alignment. By addressing Re-Horakhty directly and affirming her status as “true of voice”, the deceased woman situates herself within the solar cycle of daily rebirth, rather than relying solely on Osirian resurrection imagery.

Taken together, the costume, the deity, and the text articulate a coherent identity: an elite, temple-connected Theban woman presenting herself as ritually pure, cosmopolitan in taste, and theologically aligned with solar regeneration. The stela thus records not only belief, but how fashion and theology were used together to construct elite female identity in the Third Intermediate Period.

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Marked Flesh and Green Glaze: Parallel Languages of Regeneration in Nubia and Egypt

by Mary Harrsch © 2026

Across Nubia during the C-Group period (ca. 2300–1600 BCE), impressed dot patterns appear consistently on anthropomorphic figurines, particularly female examples such as this one I photographed at the Institute for the Study of Ancient Cultures at the University of Chicago that was recovered from a cemetery context at Adindan.

Female figurine with impressed dot decoration, Nubia, Adindan Cemetery T, Tomb 51, C-Group period, ca. 1750–1600 BCE. Terracotta. This figurine exemplifies a Nubian tradition in which the body surface is deliberately marked with impressed dot patterns, widely interpreted as representations of scarification. The clustered placement of the dots across the neck, chest, abdomen, and torso corresponds closely to bodily marking practices documented ethnographically in Nubia and corroborated archaeologically by the discovery of a scarified Nubian woman buried at Hierakonpolis in Egypt. Similar markings also appear on Egyptian representations of Nubian dancers, underscoring their role as visible markers of identity and ritual potency.

In a funerary context, such marked figurines function not as idealized bodies, but as embodied proxies, encoding regeneration, protection, and continuity through the culturally modified human form. This approach contrasts with contemporary Egyptian figurines of the Middle Kingdom, which communicate regeneration primarily through symbolic materials—most notably green glaze—rather than through marked skin. Photograph by Mary Harrsch, Institute for the Study of Ancient Cultures at the University of Chicago.

My research revealed these markings are not randomly applied decoration. Instead, they form deliberate clusters across the neck, shoulders, chest, abdomen, and hips—precisely those areas associated with vitality, fertility, and embodied identity.

Archaeological and comparative evidence strongly supports the interpretation of these impressed dots as representations of scarification, a culturally meaningful practice documented ethnographically in Nubia and neighboring regions. Scarification in Nubia represents a long-standing embodied cultural practice rather than a phenomenon introduced in the Bronze Age. Its origins likely lie in prehistoric and Neolithic Nubia (6th–4th millennia BCE), where rock art and early figurative traditions suggest the importance of bodily display and surface modification as social markers.

By the A-Group period (ca. 3800–3100 BCE), Nubian societies increasingly emphasized corporeal identity within mortuary and symbolic contexts, laying the groundwork for more formalized practices. Scarification becomes archaeologically legible during the C-Group period (ca. 2300–1600 BCE).

Scarification functioned as a visible marker of identity, life-stage, and ritual status, transforming the body itself into a communicative surface. The predominance of female scarification in Nubian figurative and physical evidence is generally understood in relation to fertility, life-cycle transitions, and regenerative potency. In Nubian cultural systems, women’s bodies were closely associated with biological continuity, social reproduction, and ritual mediation. Scarification marked the female body as socially accomplished—a visible record of maturity, fertility, and participation in communal rites.

Male identity, by contrast, appears to have been encoded through other means, such as weaponry, status objects, or roles tied to mobility and exchange. Some scholars have argued that recognition of the male role in conception may have developed gradually, and this could theoretically explain why certain fertility-related practices focused exclusively on women.

This interpretation is critically reinforced by the discovery of a Nubian woman buried at Hierakonpolis whose body bore patterned markings consistent with those depicted on Nubian figurines and on representations of Nubian dancers in Egyptian art. This rare convergence of figurative, artistic, and physical evidence demonstrates that the dotted patterns seen on clay bodies correspond to real practices applied to living ones. Figurines, therefore, act as proxies for culturally marked bodies rather than abstract symbols.

Representations of Nubian dancers in Egypt, particularly during the Middle Kingdom and Second Intermediate Period, further underscore this point. Egyptian artists repeatedly depicted Nubian performers with distinctive body markings, darkened skin, and characteristic hairstyles—elements absent from Egyptian performers. These details functioned as ethnic identifiers, but they also acknowledged the ritual and liminal role of Nubian dancers as bearers of vitality, movement, and transformation.

However, Egyptians did not adopt the practice themselves. Scholarly consensus attributes this to fundamentally different conceptions of the body: Egyptian ideology privileged bodily wholeness, surface perfection, and reversibility, especially in funerary belief. Permanent alteration of the skin conflicted with Egyptian ideals of physical integrity required for rebirth. Instead, Egyptians encoded regeneration through material and chromatic symbolism—most notably green and blue-green pigments and glaze—allowing the body to remain physically intact while symbolically transformed. Thus, scarification was acknowledged as a meaningful Nubian practice but remained culturally incompatible with Egyptian ideals of bodily wholeness.

When viewed alongside contemporary Egyptian green-glazed fertility figurines, an instructive contrast emerges. Egyptian figurines of the same general period often represent female performers but they encode regeneration differently. Rather than marked skin, Egyptian artists relied on material symbolism: green or blue-green glaze evoking vegetation, rebirth, and the regenerative powers of Osiris. Smooth, idealized bodies align with Egyptian aesthetic norms, while color and decoration carry the symbolic load.

In both cultures, however, the underlying logic is strikingly similar. The female performing body—whether dancer, ritual agent, or regenerative intermediary—serves as a model for renewal and continuity. Nubian figurines encode this power through the visibly marked body itself, while Egyptian figurines encode it through color associated with rebirth. These are not borrowings, but parallel systems rooted in distinct cultural understandings of how vitality is made visible.

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