CHAPTER
I: INTRODUCTION
Robert
J. Wenke The
general theoretical context of our research at Kom el-Hisn involves
one of the most enduring problems of historical analysis, the
evolution of ancient "civilization." For
over two millennia scholars have tried to explain the origins and
nature of civilization, usually in a comparative framework:
Herodotus in the fifth century B.C., Ibn Khaldoun in the fourteenth
century A.D., and virtually every major social philosopher since have
confronted the problem of explaining the similarities and differences
among civilizations. The European discovery of New World
civilizations and more than a century of archaeological research
have brought the problem into sharp focus on a single issue: how are
we to understand, and what factors explain, the fundamental
similarities of ancient cultures in such areas as China, the Indus
Valley, Mesopotamia, Egypt, Mesoamerica, and Andean South American? The
view that ancient civilizations are superficially similar but in some
important ways are incommensurable has a long history, and in our own
era some have rejected the traditional terms and objectives in
approaches to this problem (Hodder 1985). Yet the evolution of early
civilizations, or "states," remains at the center of
anthropological and historical inquiry. For the "problem"
of ancient civilizations is, of course, a classic specific expression
of the larger issue of how we are to understand historical inquiry in
general. Since
Herodotus and probably long before, ancient Egypt has been considered
a particularly important resource for understanding the nature of
civilization and cultural complexity. But despite ancient Egypt's
well-known similarities to other early civilizations, its most
important contributions to comparative analyses may derive from its
apparently distinctive, almost contradictory cultural
characteristics. Ancient texts suggest Egypt was one of the most
centralized of early states, yet it also seems to have been the least
urban; its bureaucratic complexity was extraordinary, yet the vast
majority of ancient Egyptians seem to have lived in largely
self-sufficient villages and towns; and though its political cycles
were closely related to a single environmental factor (Nile flood
levels), within these environmental limits Egypt's socio-political
evolution was a baroque interweaving of factors, personalities, and
events. In
trying to account for these apparent contradictions, scholars have
used the Egyptian archaeological record to address many of the
central issues of ancient cultural evolution, such as the
determinants of urbanism (Bietak 1979; Trigger 1985), the political
correlates of irrigation agriculture (Wittfogel 1957; Harris 1977:
157-63), the relationship of ideologies and socio-economic structures
(Trigger 1979, Hoffman 1979), the links between modes of production
and social differentiation (Janssen 1978), the evolutionary context
of monumental architecture (H. Haas et al. n.d), and the ecological
and demographic correlates of cultural evolution (Butzer 1976, 1984;
Hassan 1981). These
studies, however, have been greatly limited by grossly inadequate
archaeological evidence. Relevant archaeological--as opposed to
epigraphic--evidence about early Egypt is so limited, in fact, that
in some cases Egypt has been excluded from comparative analyses of
early civilizations (e.g., Wright 1986), and none of the major
general explanations of cultural complexity (reviewed in Wenke 1981)
have been based on Egyptian data. Research in Egypt has been
concentrated on Egyptian ritual centers, not on the settlements
constituting the socio-economic structure that supported these
centers; and Nile floods and millennia of settlement and cultivation
have destroyed or obscured most of Egypt's early settlements.
One
might suppose that Egypt's rich epigraphic record would compensate
for this unbalanced view of the archaeological record, but this is
only true in a limited sense. Certainly, the ancient texts give us a
great deal of information about Egypt, but in a sense the
archaeological and epigraphic data can be profitably combined only
for a narrow range of questions. If we are interested primarily in
simple reconstructions and descriptions of the Egyptian past, we can
make good use of the synthesis of archaeological and epigraphic data.
In the case of Kom el-Hisn, for example, the ancient texts mention
the importance of cattle-raising in this area, and there is some
apparent confirmation of the accuracy of these texts in the animal
bones, plant remains, and other data we have recovered from Kom
el-Hisn. But if our research concerns are more analytical and
processual, involving such variables as relative changes over time in
diet at Kom el-Hisn, or variability in the kinds and volumes of
regional exchange in the Old Kingdom Delta, we shall have to rely
almost exclusively on the kinds of measurable, quantifiable data only
archaeology can supply. And such data, as noted above, are
relatively scarce for ancient rural Egypt. But
the pace of Egyptian archaeological research has increased markedly
in recent years (e.g., Bietak 1975; Hoffman 1982; Hassan 1984; Mills
1984; Kroeper and Wildung 1985; Harlan 1985; Jeffreys 1985; Von der
Way et al. n.d.). The outlines of Egypt's socioeconomic history are
clearer, and Egypt can now be compared more precisely with other
ancient civilizations (Trigger 1985).
Our
own research has been focussed on the provincial socioeconomic
structure of the Old Kingdom (c. 2700-2215 B.C.). For reasons
explained below, we consider changes in Old Kingdom provincial
socioeconomic organization to be a key element in analyzing Pharaonic
Egypt's developmental history. In this context we have conducted two
seasons of excavations and other research at Kom el-Hisn (Figure 1),
a large, west Delta site. We selected Kom el-Hisn for this analysis
because: it was occupied during the period when Egypt's national
administrative institutions first formed fully and then underwent
major changes; its extensive, well-preserved, Old Kingdom occupations
are almost entirely unobscured by later habitation; and its political
status (as a provincial capital) and its location (near the
desert/Delta margin and a branch of the Nile, and close to the Libyan
frontier and the Mediterranean) are such that its composition
probably reflects diverse sectors of early economic and
socio-political systems.
In
our research at Kom el-Hisn we have attempted to reconstruct elements
of economic and social variability within the site, in order to
relate these elements to relatively simple concepts involving
functional specialization and the organization and control of
economic production. Our ultimate objective is to relate this
analysis to a general interpretation of Egyptian cultural evolution,
and to comparisons between Egypt and other early civilizations. The
specific kinds of comparisons we hope to make are described and
explained later in this chapter. EARLY
PHARAONIC EGYPT: KOM EL-HISN'S CULTURAL CONTEXT To
understand what Kom el-Hisn was as a community, and the role it
played in the Old Kingdom Egyptian state, we must first consider Old
Kingdom Egyptian economy, society, and polity in general. A detailed
review of Old Kingdom Egypt is beyond the scope of this volume,
however; only those elements potentially most relevant to an analysis
of Kom el-Hisn are considered here. Already
by the early Old Kingdom, Egypt was a complexly-organized
nation-state, with monumental architecture, a multi-tiered economy,
and a centralized and hierarchically-arranged bureaucracy. Trigger
(1983:69) notes that the great achievement of the Early Dynastic
period was the formation of the centralized administration and elites
that formed the core of Egyptian cultural complexity for the
succeeding three millennia. Thus our analyses of Kom el-Hisn's Old
Kingdom occupations relate to the study of the development of
Egypt's economic and administrative institutions, not their earliest
appearance.
In
analyzing the factors that determined Kom el-Hisn's cultural
characteristics and history, we have focussed on the following
related factors. 1.
The power of the pharaoh. The composition and history of
communities like Kom el-Hisn must be assumed to be partly determined
by variability in the power of the pharaoh and elites to control
rural sectors of the state. Wilson notes that the written language
of Old Kingdom Egypt had no words for "government" or
"state" as impersonal terms, conceived apart from the
pharaoh: the Egyptian ". . . theory of government was that the
king was everywhere and did everything . . . . The fiction of direct
delegation of duty and of a direct report to the king was impossible
to maintain in practice; but in the theory of government it was no
fiction, it was a working reality" (1951: 79) (see also Kemp
1983; Trigger 1979: 32-50). Particularly in the Old Kingdom and
First Intermediate periods, inscriptions suggest, the pharaohs
personally directed the settlement of Egypt, and they did so for a
variety of secular motives, including the consolidation of royal
power, stimulation of economic development, and the defense of the
frontiers. Pharaoh Wahkare' Khety III (2070-2040 B.C.), in his
instructions to his son, Merykare, forcefully recommended building
towns as a means to counteract political fragmentation and
inefficient organization, especially in the eastern Delta, which, he
lamented, was being subdivided into rival provinces and cities
(Badawy 1967: 105). Baer's classic study of rank and title in the
Old Kingdom began as attempt to document "disintegration of
central authority and the rise of semiautonomous families in the
provinces" (1960: 1), and though the epigraphic evidence to do
this was lacking, his study illustrated the great complexity and
change in Old Kingdom bureaucratic hierarchies. Kemp (1983: 108)
suggests that in Upper Egypt the control of local affairs by the
pharaoh's overseer was gradually diluted during the late Old Kingdom,
culminating in the appearance of provincial governors, or nomarchs.
Scholars differ on the extent of fluctuations of royal power during
the 4th and 5th Dynasties--when Kom el-Hisn was occupied. Trigger
(1984: 107) raises the possibility that a slow but continuous
expansion and elaboration of society and economy in the Old Kingdom
may have been accompanied by growing complexity and power of
provincial administrative institutions (see also Kanawati 1977:
69-77; Goedicke 1967). The apparent emergence of powerful nomarchs
in the 6th Dynasty may reflect a reduction of pharaonic power, but
the pharaohs of this period were still able to send expeditions to
Nubia and Palestine and to exert considerable internal control as
well. The presumed weakening of the central Egyptian government in
the First Intermediate Period (c. 2160-2040 B.C.) may have arisen out
of the growing power of the nomarchs under the long rule of
Pepi II, in association with declines in Nile flood levels (Butzer
1980: 278; Kemp 1983: 113). The few texts and fragmentary
archaeological evidence from the First Intermediate Period seem to
reflect "a loss of equilibrium between a powerful court and
provincial aspirations" (Kemp 1983: 115).
Reconstructing
the socio-political changes of the Middle Kingdom (c. 2080-1640
B.C.)--Egypt's first true imperial age--is a complex matter. In this
period, successive rulers sought to increase national integration
while directing defense and trade along increasingly active
frontiers. For example, Ammenemes I (c. 1980 B.C.)--whose throne
name appears in a clay seal impression at Kom el-Hisn--seems to have
been in a constant struggle for power with provincial governors
during a period of Asiatic threat to the east Delta (Kemp 1983).
Throughout
the first millennium of the Egyptian state, there was, then, a
tension between the central government and other elites. Kemp
suggests that "one must imagine a network of government agencies
spread throughout the country, attempting by bureaucratic methods
total assessment and management of resources, and overlying to
varying degrees the semi-autonomous functioning of pious-foundations
and private estates whose own 'officials' would have had as their
principal concern not the facilitating of the transfer of wealth to
the crown, but rather the effective operation of the foundation or
estate of which they themselves were the chief beneficiaries"
(1983: 83). 2.
The organization and operation of provincial economic systems.
As is discussed below, a critical issue in evaluating Kom el-Hisn
is to determine if it was simply an agricultural community, largely
self-sufficient in most goods and services, and linked to the
political centers mainly through taxation and other indirect
exploitative relations; or, in contrast, was a specialized element in
a functionally interdependent provincial and national economic
system, with direct administration by agents of the pharaoh.
Potentially
one of the most illuminating sources of evidence about these economic
aspects of Old Kingdom Egypt would be its settlement patterns. In
early complex societies, one can expect that the social and
administrative hierarchies will be mirrored to some extent in the
size and functional complexity of communities, not only at the level
of individual communities,
but
at the level of regional and national settlement patterns as well.
We
know from texts that from the Early Dynastic period at least,
Egyptian society, aside from the pharaoh, was divided into a literate
class of administrators who were charged with executing the pharaoh's
policies and who drew their authority from pharaoh, and under them a
class of soldiers, craftsmen, and others who executed the orders of
the ruling elites, and at the bottom of society, the illiterate
peasantry (Kemp 1983: 81). Thus, we might expect settlements to
reflect these social classes in the kinds and contents of
architecture, tombs, tools, etc., and we might also expect the
regional and national settlement patterns to reflect these social
divisions. Unfortunately, except for Kom el-Hisn, only a few small
areas of provincial early Pharaonic communities have been excavated
(reviewed in Kemp 1983; Bietak 1979; Mills 1984; Krzyzaniak and
Kobusiewicz, eds. in press; Hoffman 1982; Fairservis 1972). These
communities seem small by Mesopotamian standards; some were walled
(e.g., Buhen [O'Connor 1987]) and possessed modest public
architecture. In Upper Egypt, Hierakonpolis, Elephantine, Edfu,
Buhen, and Abydos were all substantial communities in the Old
Kingdom. Most appear to have had a rectangular design, with an
interior citadel or walled areas (Kemp 1983: 102). But all of these
communities are insufficiently preserved or excavated to provide an
integrated plan of the community, and comparatively little is known
about their floral and faunal remains and other economic data.
Perhaps our best evidence about the correspondence of rural Egyptian
communities to one or the other of these stereotypes would be in
their regional settlement patterns, but we know little about these.
Kemp suggests that, unlike the "primate distribution" of
the Predynastic, when Nagada, Hierakonpolis, and a few other towns
were probably by far the largest communities in Upper Egypt, the Old
Kingdom settlement distribution was one in which settlements of
varying sizes were distributed around several larger towns (e.g.,
Hierakonpolis), which in turn were spaced fairly evenly down the Nile
(1983: 103). In the Delta, Old Kingdom settlements (e.g., Kom
el-Hisn, Mendes, Tell Basta, possibly Bhuto) seem to have been
relatively large, but we know little about the regional rank-size
distribution.
We
can expect that much of what Kom el-Hisn was would have
been
determined by the kind of agricultural land-tenure and production on
which the community was based. Agricultural resources were of three
basic forms in ancient Egypt: land owned directly by the Crown; land
privately owned and subject to taxation; and land held in the form of
"pious foundations." According to epigraphic evidence,
large estates were frequently created in the Delta as "pious
foundations"--the establishment by an individual of a fund,
supported by the donation of property or other income-producing
assets, and used to ensure the maintenance of a cult center. Pious
foundations recorded on monuments in the Giza-Saqqara area
(Posener-Krieger 1976; Jacquet-Gordon 1962) committed large estates
in the Delta to the support of cult centers, and it is possible that
Kom el-Hisn was founded and functioned as such an estate. As an
incentive to establish communities in the Delta, the government
granted some of these estates exemption from taxes and corvee labor
requirements (Badaway 1967: 105). A primary economic role of at
least some of these Delta estates was in cattle-raising (Helck 1975;
Kees 1961: 29-30; Ghoneim 1977: 25; see also Cruz-Uribe 1985: xiii).
Moens and Wetterstrom (in press) note that cattle occur in the names
of four Delta nomes, and that references to the cow-goddess Hathor's
cult at Kom el-Hisn are known from the Middle Kingdom and earlier
(Helck 1975; Kees 1961).
The
exact nature of the social and economic relationships that evolved
around pious-foundations, their local communities, and cult centers
is a complex matter, for which we have some instructive Old Kingdom
texts. The control and economic benefits of estates connected with
pious foundations appear to have been hereditary in many cases, and
provincial elites probably derived much of their status and income
from their links to local temples and cult centers (Goedicke 1970:
131-48; Helck 1974; Pirenne 1932-5, Vol. II: 372-8; Kemp 1983:105-7).
Kemp (1983: 106-7) notes that the size of these estates could vary
from one to over 50 hectares, and that although the central
government probably exerted direct control over most of these, a
royal charter of immunity could be granted. The economic and other
relationships among royal officials and provincial administrators of
pious foundations must have altered with the fluctuations of the
country's political and economic functions as a whole, and Kemp
concludes that overall the ". . .relationship . . . must have
been a very delicate one" (1983:107). In
addition to agricultural production, another important reflection of
provincial integration into the national political and economic
system would be the nature of commodity production and distribution.
Tomb contents reflect scores of industries in materials whose volumes
and standardized forms indicate considerable centralized control.
Yet most scholars suggest that well into the Pharaonic era rural
Egyptian settlements were self-sufficient in most foods and crafts,
and that to the limited extent that they produced commodities for
export it was on a part-time basis and in a regional exchange system
based on barter (Trigger 1984: 104, 1985; Kemp 1983; Butzer 1978:
17). Relevant archaeological (as opposed to epigraphic) evidence
from rural communities on this point is scarce, however.
Specifically, we do not know, as Kemp notes, "whether. . .the
groupings of estates in the larger pious foundations were built
around existing settlement patterns or, alternatively, interfered
with them" (1983:96). International
trade in the Old Kingdom was substantial (though perhaps not
comparable to that of early Mesopotamia [R. McC. Adams 1981; Wright
1986]). In the Delta, most international trade may have moved
overland; there is no evidence of extensive port facilities in the
Old Kingdom period (cf. Helck 1971: 5-6). But even the location of
the coastline in early Pharaonic times is uncertain, and excavations
at possible trading entrepots, such as Bhuto, are in their
preliminary stages. It is unclear to what extent a community like
Kom el-Hisn would have participated in international exchange--though
in later times it seems to have been a part of the system through
which cattle and other wealth expropriated from Libya were
transferred to the central authorities at Giza (Moens and Wetterstrom
in press). KOM
EL-HISN: RESEARCH DESIGN AND OBJECTIVES In
our research at Kom el-Hisn, we are particularly concerned with the
determinants of the size, economic functioning, and socio-political
organization of rural communities in political systems like that of
Old Kingdom Egypt. We assume that if we can determine how provincial
Egypt both resembled and differed from other early civilizations in
settlement pattern characteristics, the general nature and mechanisms
of early cultural complexity may be more evident.
Figure
2 illustrates in the most general terms the theoretical context of
our research. In this figure, variability over time in some of the
most important environmental, economic, and demographic variables in
Egyptian antiquity is reconstructed. These reconstructions are
highly speculative, and they are not in and of themselves
explanations: even to the extent that some of these variables, when
accurately reconstructed, may show strong correlation, the task of
the analyst is to explain such correlations, not simply identify
them. Nonetheless, there are important questions implicit in Figure
2 concerning the general nature of cultural change. To what extent,
for example, can we ever hope to identify "causal"
connection between such variables? Is the nature of causality in this
sense inappropriate for complex cultural analyses? And, is there any
useful sense in which we can describe the tempo of cultural
change? In the biological sciences the question of evolutionary
tempo remains a major issue, with some asserting that evolution
occurs in a discontinuous, non-gradual pattern, whereas others see
the general pattern of biological evolution to be gradual. Major
questions of social philosophy are seen to be directly at issue in
some of these debates (Gould and Eldredge 1977). On
superficial examination, the determinants of Egyptian
history,
particularly in the form of its settlement pattern
history,
seem relatively few and obvious: the Nile determines agricultural
productivity, and a great deal of the variance in settlement size
through time in Egypt is statistically predictable from the width of
the flood plain and a few other variables (Butzer 1976, Butzer
student). Most explanations of early Egyptian settlement patterns
are, in fact, essentially functional in nature: that is, in trying
to explain, for example, the apparent combination in Old Kingdom
Egypt of extreme political centralization and a largely non-urban
settlement pattern with a low level of functional interdependence
among communities, scholars have tended to begin by estimating the
costs and benefits of this and different arrangements. The
similarity of microenvironments in the Nile Valley and Delta seems to
offer relatively few economic inducements to voluminous interregional
exchange or cooperation. Agricultural potential is quite similar
along the length of the Nile, and the desert borders offer some
protection from invasion. Even though transport of goods and
information via the Nile is cheap and reliable, and Egypt's
ancient documents describe regular transport of foodstuffs among
communities (Hayes 1964; O'Connor 1983: 226-32), in the early periods
such state-directed redistribution may have been relatively minor.
Water control seems to have been local until late in the last
century. One great centrifugal force in Egyptian history seems to
have been the recurrent fragmentation of the country into largely
self-sufficient, functionally redundant units based on the natural
flood basins of the Nile (Butzer 1976, 1978:17-18). Thus, generally,
there seem to have been few stimuli to elaborate functional
interdependence among communities, and thus, perhaps, few of the
urban centers that often seem to result from such interdependence. Yet
early Egypt's non-urban character and low level of functional
interdependence cannot be understood entirely as results of simple
ecological determinants--as contemporary Cairo amply illustrates.
Large cities and a differentiated settlement size hierarchy appear to
be cost-effective in pre-industrial economies because they offer
advantages in organization of economic production, social control,
military security, etc. In Mesopotamia and elsewhere, cities
apparently offered effective environments for organization and the
transmission of techniques of craft-production, administrative and
military training, and other activities on which complex societies
depend (R.McC. Adams 1966, 1981; Johnson 1982; Wenke 1981). In Egypt
these same activities may have been carried out in ritual centers
that were not as functionally interdependent with their rural
populations as was apparently the case in Mesopotamia. In fact,
Trigger (1985) suggests that Egypt may even have been less urbanized
in the Early Dynastic era than in the Predynastic, because the
emerging state suppressed conflicts between the major towns.
Similarly, Service (1975: 225-237) argues that in Egypt the absence
of cities promoted stability: by dispersing most administrators
except the priests and those with a vested interest in the
continuation of the system, the Egyptian state avoided the
class-divisiveness of other large urban centers. This contrasts with
the Mesopotamian model, where the rapid and extreme urbanization may
have been a political strategy by rulers trying to defend and extend
their territories (R.McC. Adams 1981).
Various
scholars have interpreted settlement pattern variability, functional
interdependence, and related concepts in evolutionary, as
opposed to functionalist, terms. Dunnell (1980), for example,
suggests that functional interdependence in the mechanisms required
to reproduce the society's means of production is the defining
criterion of cultural complexity, in that a change in the level of
cultural selection occurs when societies of functionally independent
communities become functionally interdependent (see also Wenke 1981).
Urbanized settlement patterns have even been explained in terms of
their efficiencies with regard to the laws of thermodynamics (R.N.
Adams 1981).
In
any case, there is no necessary contrast between extreme political
and religious centralization and a very low level of functional
integration. Exchange among components of a political system may be
regular and voluminous, but in ritual, not necessarily staple,
commodities (Earle 1977). As is discussed below, for example, a
principal function of Kom el-Hisn seems to have been to raise cattle,
which were the focus of the Hathor cult--through which part of the
economy of Old Kingdom Egypt was organized.
All
these forms of explanation are subject to many problems (Salmon
1982), and in any case, they are largely untested archaeologically in
Egypt. The stereotype of Old Kingdom Egypt as a non-urban society
may be accurate, but it is largely an inference based on very little
data: even the supposed largest Old Kingdom community--Memphis--is
known only from texts and from fragmentary finds amidst the later
occupations that are presumed to cover it (Jeffreys 1985). It
is in this context of various explanations of settlement composition
and arrangement, and the scarcity of relevant data from Egypt, that
we have designed our work at Kom el-Hisn. To link these larger
issues to Kom el-Hisn, we have sought evidence about: (1) the local
environment, so that we can estimate the agricultural potential of
this and other areas of the Delta and such conditions, for example,
as the extent of deforestation and agricultural clearing; (2) the
size of the community, so that we can estimate the scale of commodity
production and occupational specialization; (3) architectural
differentiation, so that we can make inferences about socio-economic
and political hierarchies in the community; (4) the volume of
imported materials in the settlement, so that we can estimate Kom
el-Hisn's links to regional, national, and international exchange
systems; (5) the nature of the agricultural system, to determine if
Kom el-Hisn was mainly a self-sufficient community engaged in
subsistence agriculture, or, possibly, a government-directed,
specialized producer of cattle or other exportable commodities; and
(6) the depositional history of the community, so that we can extend
our regional survey and use remote-sensing data to reconstruct Kom
el-Hisn's regional settlement pattern. We
have summarized these various aspects of our research objectives by
constructing two alternative models of what the community at Kom
el-Hisn was like at a given time in the Old Kingdom.
Model
I. Kom el-Hisn was established as a pious foundation and to
provide cattle and orchard products to the central government. As a
regional center it imported some products from central government
workshops, but it was largely self-sufficient, and most of its
external supplies came from regional markets. Its populace consisted
mainly of agriculturalists, who were administered by a resident agent
of the pharaoh. Except for this agent and, perhaps, a few elite
families, most people lived in simple mud-brick houses that differed
little in construction or contents. Because of the heavy
centralization of economic and political power at Memphis and perhaps
a few other centers, Kom el-Hisn was part of the lower end of a
largely "primate" rank-size settlement distribution and
supplied only a few goods and services to smaller communities in the
Delta. Model
II. Like provincial Mesopotamian settlements, Kom el-Hisn's
initial settlement was in response to both local and national
socio-economic factors, and the community served a large hinterland
with goods and services. Although participating in the national
economy, it was itself functionally quite complex, producing a wide
range of agricultural and craft products for internal consumption and
export. Its inhabitants were mainly farmers but included specialists
and administrators, so that there was significant social
stratification and preferential access to the community's wealth,
power, and prestige. Interactions between the people of Kom el-Hisn
and the rest of Egypt were sufficiently frequent that its artifact
styles reflect regional and national influences. Its internal
functional complexity and external relations were such that Kom
el-Hisn was in the middle of a roughly linear rank-size distribution
of Old Kingdom settlements. We
recognize that many plausible alternative models could be
constructed, that few of these imagined characteristics are mutually
exclusive, and that these characteristics are not likely to have
unique reflections in the archaeological record. The accuracy of any
such models could never be conclusively "proven," and we
use them mainly as a basis to specify the variable interactions of
potential importance to our analyses.
In
general summary, then, of the cultural context of Kom el-Hisn and our
research design, we have used Kom el-Hisn to take a somewhat unusual
perspective on the early Egyptian state, a view from the the lower
levels of this political system up to the elites of this state. The
major premise of our research is that to understand the evolution of
Egyptian cultural complexity, we must focus on the organization and
administration of the rural economy that supported the tiny fraction
of the society composed of the royalty and other elites. METHODOLOGICAL
APPROACH Every
archaeological analysis is to some extent reconstructive, in the
sense that at some stage in the analysis one must interpret the
significance of the archaeological data in terms of some inferential
notions about the cultural processes underlying these data. In the
case of Kom el-Hisn, we are clearly attempting to reconstruct
elements of the socio-economic functioning of this community so that
we can relate it to evidence about regional and national variables,
and then place the whole in a comparative context vis-a-vis
reconstructions of similar aspects of other early civilizations. Complex
debates attend the problem of at what stage these reconstructive
elements enter the analytical process and, ultimately, how they are
involved in the explanation and interpretation of the archaeological
record (e.g., Dunnell 1986; Salmon 1982; Watson, Redman, and LeBlanc
1986). The reader will be spared any substantial review of these
debates, given that the primary purpose of this volume is to report
the data and preliminary interpretations of our two initial seasons. Nonetheless,
to understand our excavation strategy and tactics, it is necessary to
consider a few of the methodological assumptions and tactics we have
employed. Central to most of these methodological issues is the
problem of unit-formation, which is discussed at some length
in Chapter Three. These matters of unit-formation directly involve
the specifics of our techniques of stratigraphic analysis, which are
discussed in Chapter Two. Both of these issues are fundamental to
the process at the center of our research design, which is to
partition Kom el-Hisn's remains into units that reflect functional
and stylistic variability.
For
example, for the basic problem of reconstructing some aspects of Kom
el-Hisn's economic functions, we must determine the spatial
association of selected categories of lithics, ceramics, plant and
animal remains, and architecture. The determination of spatial
associations of this kind might seem to be a relatively simple and
straightforward problem of showing that these classes of evidence are
found close to one another. But the statistical and other problems
of determining and measuring this sense of proximity are many and
complex. These artifacts and botanical remains must first of all be
tallied in such a way that the contents of one housefloor, for
example, can be compared with those of another. But we must assume
that the sediments comprising the living floor of different buildings
were deposited over somewhat different lengths of time--and the
precision of stratigraphic analysis can never be such that units of
equivalent time can be determined. Then too, at Kom el-Hisn, as in
most Egyptian sites, older occupations were continually mined for
construction materials, so that in later levels of the site seemingly
mudbrick contains pottery sherds and other debris, which when these
buildings decay deposit their contents in such a way that "reverse
stratigraphy" can be expected in many instances: that is,
pottery from one occupation is incorporated in bricks for a later
occupation, and as these bricks decompose they fall on the residues
of these later occupations, and thereby violate in every sense the
Law of Stratigraphic Superposition. The
statistical problems of determining spatial association are even more
severe when analyzing materials that do not come from areas neatly
bounded by mudbrick walls and obvious floor deposits. In some
excavation units at Kom el-Hisn, for example, we removed successive
layers of debris that were entirely unassociated with architecture
over the 1 - 2 m of their depth. Yet these levels contained dense
concentrations of animal bones, sherds, lithics, etc. We can ask in
such cases exactly what the spatial associations of these layers can
be assumed to mean. Some of these levels probably represent
regrading of the site surface to prepare it for reconstruction, in
which case the redeposited sherds and other debris may reflect very
little of the "tool-kits" these artifacts comprise. Other
levels in these non-architectural deposits probably represent the
deposition of small amounts of garbage over long periods of time, and
here too it is not reasonable to assume, for example, that because
two rim sherds from two different kinds of vessels, a sickle blade,
and a pig jaw are found together in the same 0.10 cubic meter of
deposits, they were used in combination for some specific task. Even
if economic activities such as winnowing grain or making flint sickle
blades left clear "signatures" in their artifacts and other
debris, and even if the remains of episodes of such activities were
neatly superimposed stratigraphically, the mechanics of excavation
are such that one cannot expect the whole material record of these
episodes to be precisely contained in a given 2 X 2 meters of an
excavation unit--it's more likely that one corner of the extent of
remains from one episode is encountered in one level, and a different
area of the record of the other activity is exposed in the underlying
strata. When
one includes the problems of differential preservation of various
kinds of ceramic wares and biological remains, as well as
imprecisions in separating depositional events stratigraphically,
errors of identification of artifact and biological specimens, small
sample sizes, and so forth, the inference that the spatial
conjunction of objects reflects functional or chronological
association appears somewhat suspect. Our
main resources in the face of such problems are to make the most
precise stratigraphic determinations as possible and to collect and
analyze artifacts and other remains in terms of assemblages that
reflect these stratigraphic determinations; and to use large sample
size, appropriate object classifications and typologies, and
carefully-chosen statistical techniques. Thus,
for example, in trying to establish something as basic as whether or
not the distribution of animal bones through Kom el-Hisn's strata
reflects any changes in the community's diet over time, we have had
to hedge our arguments (Chapter VI) with numerous qualifications,
beginning with our inadequate samples from the lower levels of the
site, the differential preservation of fish vis-a-vis other remains,
the difficulties of identifying the stratigraphic units that could
meaningfully be compared, and the wholesale violations of the
assumptions of most parametric statistical tests posed by these data
sets. These
many problems in interpreting Kom el-Hisn's remains are reviewed here
not to suggest that any statistical treatment of these kinds cannot
usefully be applied, but to underline the preliminary nature of our
research to date, and also to explain why we have employed the
various methods, strategies, and tactics described in the succeeding
chapters.