Before Order Was King: Chaos Expressed through Animal Imagery from Early Mesopotamia to Predynastic Egypt (ca. 3300–2900 BCE)

by Mary Harrsch © 2026

At first glance, this fragment from Khafajah’s Sin Temple IX that I photographed at the Institute for the Study of Ancient Cultures at the University of Chicago reminded me very much of the obverse of Egypt’s Two-Dog Palette that I photographed at the Ashmolean Museum in Oxford, as they appear to speak the same visual language. Both present densely packed fields of interlocking animals, ambiguous action, and a lack of clear narrative resolution. Humans, when present, are not dominant. These compositions evoke instability, danger, and forces beyond easy control—an early visual strategy shared across regions at the threshold of complex state formation in the Third Millenium BCE.

Khafajah (Diyala Region), Sin Temple IX, Early Dynastic I–II (early 3rd millennium BCE)
Fragmentary relief from a carved vessel depicting densely interwoven animal figures and a human participant, rendered without registers or a dominant focal figure. The continuous, all-over composition emphasizes movement, conflict, and interdependence rather than narrative resolution. In a temple context dedicated to the lunar god Sin (Nanna), such imagery reflects a Mesopotamian cosmology in which humans, animals, and divine forces operate within a perpetually negotiated order maintained through ritual and institutional religion rather than embodied kingship. Photographed at the Institute for the Study of ancient Cultures, University of Chicago by Mary Harrsch.

Egypt, “Two-Dog Palette” (obverse), Late Predynastic–Early Dynastic period (Naqada III–Dynasty 0/1), ca. 3300–3100 BCE
Cosmetic palette carved with a crowded field of overlapping animals engaged in pursuit and confrontation, lacking strict registers, hieratic scale, or a clearly identified ruler figure. The composition preserves an early Egyptian visual strategy for representing liminality and uncontrolled forces prior to the consolidation of divine kingship. Unlike later dynastic monuments, chaos here is neither fully subordinated nor resolved, marking a transitional phase in Egyptian political and religious ideology. Photographed at the Ashmolean Museum in Oxford by Mary Harrsch

Yet this shared imagery masks a profound divergence in worldview that would soon follow, according to my research, driven largely by environmentally shaped political realities.

In Egypt, the predictable annual inundation of the Nile created an agricultural system that could be planned, coordinated, and administered over long time horizons. Surplus could be anticipated, labor mobilized in advance, and resources redistributed through centralized authority. This environmental regularity strongly favored early political unification and long-term continuity. Egypt’s geography reinforced this stability: deserts to the east and west, the Mediterranean to the north, and cataracts to the south functioned as natural buffers that reduced persistent external threats. As a result, political authority consolidated early around a single ruler whose role as organizer of labor, ritual, and landscape appeared inseparable from the continued functioning of the world itself.

This combination of environmental predictability and geographic insulation allowed Egypt to develop a worldview in which order (maʿat) was conceived as singular, enduring, and ultimately guaranteed through kingship. Chaotic forces—so vividly expressed on the Two-Dog Palette—came to be understood as transitional or external, something to be mastered and resolved. Within a few generations, Egyptian elite art would abandon dense animal chaos in favor of compositions asserting clarity, hierarchy, and the decisive action of a divinely sanctioned ruler, as seen in the Narmer Palette.

Mesopotamia followed a different path. There, rivers flooded unpredictably and destructively, arable land lay exposed on open plains, and political authority remained fragmented among competing city-states. No single ruler could plausibly claim permanent control over nature or history. In this context, chaos was not a phase to be overcome but a persistent condition of existence. Religious and political authority developed as institutional, negotiated, and contingent upon divine favor rather than embodied in a god-king.

The Khafajah fragment reflects this enduring Mesopotamian worldview. Its interwoven animals and human figure do not announce conquest or resolution; instead, they visualize a cosmos in constant motion, one that must be continually managed through ritual and divine appeasement rather than definitively ordered. The scene belongs comfortably within a temple setting, where maintaining balance—not proclaiming victory—was the central concern.

Seen together, the Two-Dog Palette and the Khafajah fragment capture a shared early moment of visual experimentation before environmental and political realities pushed Egypt and Mesopotamia in sharply different ideological directions. One culture would come to imagine order as stable, centralized, and conquerable; the other would accept instability as permanent and order as something endlessly negotiated.

If you enjoyed this post, never miss out on future posts by following me by email!

Votive Dress and Gendered Authority in Early Dynastic Mesopotamia: Tell Asmar and Khafajah

by Mary Harrsch © 2026

These Early Dynastic votive figures (ca. 2700–2500 BCE), discovered in temples at Tell Asmar (ancient Eshnunna) and Khafajah, that I photographed at the Institute for the Study of Ancient Cultures at the University of Chicago reveal how clothing was used to negotiate gender, authority, and institutional identity in Mesopotamian religious space.

Male figure from the Early Dynastic Period of Sumer found in the Tell Asmar hoard. In Sumerian art, a full, styled beard was not just facial hair. It was a deliberate symbol of adulthood, wisdom, and high social rank. Its careful carving on a votive statue emphasized the dedicator's importance. Photographed at the Institute for the Study of Ancient Cultures (formerly the Oriental Institute) of the University of Chicago by Mary Harrsch.

Male figure from the Early Dynastic Period of Sumer found in the Tell Asmar hoard. In Sumerian art, a full, styled beard was not just facial hair. It was a deliberate symbol of adulthood, wisdom, and high social rank. Its careful carving on a votive statue emphasized the dedicator's importance. Photographed at the Institute for the Study of Ancient Cultures (formerly the Oriental Institute) of the University of Chicago by Mary Harrsch.

Male figure from the Early Dynastic Period of Sumer found in the Tell Asmar hoard. Seated male figure in tufted kaunake representing institutional authority within the sacred space. Photographed at the Institute for the Study of Ancient Cultures (formerly the Oriental Institute) of the University of Chicago by Mary Harrsch.

Male figure from the Early Dynastic Period of Sumer found in the Tell Asmar hoard in modern day Iraq. Photographed at the Institute for the Study of Ancient Cultures (formerly the Oriental Institute) of the University of Chicago by Mary Harrsch.

 

Male figure wearing a fringed kilt from the Early Dynastic Period of Sumer found in the Tell Asmar hoard in modern day Iraq. Photographed at the Institute for the Study of Ancient Cultures (formerly the Oriental Institute) of the University of Chicago by Mary Harrsch.

Male figure from the Early Dynastic Period of Sumer found in the Tell Asmar hoard in modern day Iraq. Photographed at the Institute for the Study of Ancient Cultures (formerly the Oriental Institute) of the University of Chicago by Mary Harrsch.

Male figure from the Early Dynastic Period of Sumer found in the Tell Asmar hoard in modern day Iraq. Photographed at the Institute for the Study of Ancient Cultures (formerly the Oriental Institute) of the University of Chicago by Mary Harrsch.

Male figure from the Early Dynastic Period of Sumer found in the Tell Asmar hoard with shaved head and beardless, possibly a priest within the temple complex. Photographed at the Institute for the Study of Ancient Cultures (formerly the Oriental Institute) of the University of Chicago by Mary Harrsch.

Female votive figurine, Tell Asmar (ancient Eshnunna), Early Dynastic II–III, ca. 2700–2500 BCE.
One of only two female figures in the Tell Asmar votive hoard, this statue depicts a woman in a long, smooth wrap dress draped over one shoulder, hands clasped in perpetual prayer. Her restrained attire and modest presentation reflect Early Dynastic conventions for female piety and the carefully circumscribed visibility of women in public, institutional temple contexts. Photographed at the Institute for the Study of Ancient Cultures (formerly the Oriental Institute) of the University of Chicago by Mary Harrsch.

Female votive figurine, Tell Asmar (ancient Eshnunna), Early Dynastic II–III, ca. 2700–2500 BCE.
One of only two female figures in the Tell Asmar votive hoard, this statue depicts a woman in a long, smooth wrap dress draped over one shoulder, hands clasped in perpetual prayer. Her restrained attire and modest presentation reflect Early Dynastic conventions for female piety and the carefully circumscribed visibility of women in public, institutional temple contexts. Photographed at the Institute for the Study of Ancient Cultures (formerly the Oriental Institute) of the University of Chicago by Mary Harrsch.

Female figure wearing a fully textured garment found in Khafajah’s Nintu Temple VII. Her more authoritative garment reflects the importance of the female deity Nintu (Ninhursag), a major goddess of fertility and creation. Photographed at the Institute for the Study of Ancient Cultures (formerly the Oriental Institute) of the University of Chicago by Mary Harrsch. 

The Tell Asmar hoard, buried beneath the Square Temple, contains more than a dozen votive figures—almost all male. The male figures are dressed in either tufted kaunakes made of sheep skin, associated with public status, office, and civic identity, or smooth, probably textile garments with long fringe at the hem, identifying them as likely legitimate temple donors whose identities were expressed through personal piety rather than public authority. The long fringe draws attention to craftsmanship rather than authority.

One male figure wearing a heavily tufted garment is seated. Posture functions as a hierarchizing device in Early Dynastic votive sculpture so this figure projects institutional authority and enduring presence within the temple. Seating is overwhelmingly a male-coded privilege in Early Dynastic public sculpture while standing conveys attentiveness and deference before the god but not authority.

Only two of the figures from the hoard are female. One woman is shown wearing a long, smooth wrap garment draped over one shoulder, her hands clasped in perpetual prayer. The simplicity and restraint of her dress visually distinguishes her from the male figures. Thus, female devotion is acknowledged but carefully circumscribed within a masculinized model of public, institutional piety.

By contrast, a female votive figure from Khafajah’s Nintu Temple VII presents a strikingly different image. She wears a long, fully tufted garment, rendered in horizontal registers and closely resembling the kaunakes more often associated with men. Rather than signaling masculinity, however, the garment’s texture and weight likely reflect the cultic context of the temple itself. Nintu (Ninhursag), a major goddess of fertility and creation, occupied a central theological position, and female presence was not marginal but foundational. In this setting, the tufted garment appears to communicate ritual authority, abundance, and generative power, rather than gendered subordination.

Seen together, these figures underscore an important point: Early Dynastic female dress was not uniform. While smooth, enveloping garments were the norm for women in many public temple contexts, other cults—especially those centered on powerful goddesses—allowed female figures to adopt visual markers of prominence usually reserved for men. Clothing, in these cases, becomes a key indicator of institutional ideology, not simply gender.

These votive statues remind us that Early Dynastic religion was as much about making social order visible as it was about devotion—and that the rules governing visibility could shift dramatically from one temple to another based on the gender of the resident deity.

If you enjoyed this post, never miss out on future posts by following me by email!

Power in Miniature: Elite Identity in Early Dynastic Mesopotamia

 by Mary Harrsch © 2025

These striking pendants that I photographed at the Oriental Institute at the University of Chicago—crafted from lapis lazuli, silver, and carnelian—were found in a hoard at Tell Asmar (ancient Eshnunna) in the Diyala River Valley and date to the Early Dynastic Period (ca. 2900–2300 BCE). Though small in scale, they open a vivid window onto a world defined by competition, prestige, and long-distance connections.

These Early Dynastic pendants from Tell Asmar combine imported lapis lazuli with silver and carnelian, transforming personal adornment into a statement of power, protection, and elite status within a competitive world of Mesopotamian city-states (ca. 2900–2300 BCE). Photographed at the Oriental Institute of the University of Chicago by Mary Harrsch.

My research revealed Early Dynastic Mesopotamia was not yet a unified land, but a mosaic of independent city-states, each ruled by its own elite families and governed through a delicate balance of palace authority, temple institutions, and divine sanction. Eshnunna occupied a strategic position between southern Mesopotamia and the Iranian plateau, allowing its rulers and elites to control trade routes that brought rare materials—such as lapis lazuli from Afghanistan and carnelian from the east—into the city.

The animal-headed pendants seen here, including bulls and felines, were not merely decorative. In Early Dynastic visual culture, such imagery conveyed power, protection, fertility, and divine favor. Bulls evoked strength and abundance; predatory animals suggested authority and aggression—qualities essential for elites navigating a volatile political landscape marked by frequent rivalry and warfare between neighboring cities.

Personal adornment in this period functioned as a form of portable identity. Wearing precious imported materials signaled access to trade networks, high social rank, and proximity to religious or administrative power. That these objects were discovered together in a hoard suggests a moment of crisis—perhaps political upheaval or violent conflict—when valuables were concealed for safekeeping and never retrieved.

These pendants belong to the final centuries of the city-state system, just before the rise of large territorial empires such as that of Sargon of Akkad. They capture a moment when power in Mesopotamia was intensely local, highly competitive, and expressed through piety, warfare, and display—on the body as much as in monumental architecture.

If you enjoyed this post, never miss out on future posts by following me by email!