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.

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