WOMAN POWER AT DAWN

(The Egyptian series of rulers of genius continues now with Queen Hatshepsut.)

Whether her legends were only exaggerated, or cleverly invented to boost her stature, one has to be a bona fide genius to be worthy of becoming a legend, and Queen Hatshepsut most certainly was.

In a hereditary monarchy even a miserable idiot has a chance to achieve a celebrity status by default. By the same token as in the case of inherited wealth, a great private or public fortune is susceptible to the risk of falling into the wrong hands. In both cases, certain countermeasures are customarily taken, to minimize the damage of unsuitable succession, sometimes by careful readjustment, sometimes by openly violent means.

Catherine the Great of Russia rose to absolute power by becoming the preferred choice of Russian nobility over her allegedly nitwit husband Peter III, the most unsuitable monarch to rule the nation at the time, or at any time, to be precise. Needless to say, Catherine had all what it takes to become worthy of her powerful support, and she proved that worthiness by the genius she would display during the thirty-four years of her subsequent enlightened reign.

I might somewhat compare Hatshepsut’s support system to that of Catherine’s. Egypt was hardly a woman-worshiping society, polygamy was in full swing, and the very best that the capable Egyptian queens could count on was to exert some influence over their royal husbands. Hatshepsut’s grandfather Amenhotep I left no son to succeed him, but his royal heiress Princess Ahmose, a capable woman in her own right, wasn’t to succeed him. Instead, she became a wife of his general, who later became the king of Egypt, as Thutmose I.

Hatshepsut was their daughter and, as her legend goes, her father found her far more suitable for succession than any of his sons. In reality if this word has any meaning at all under the circumstances she had to marry her inadequate half-brother Thutmose II, and after his death became regent to his young son Thutmose III.

Becoming the regent was a colossal accomplishment already, but Hatshepsut’s glory did not just stop there. In fact, she became the king of Egypt herself; she was crowned as Pharaoh, wore the full regalia including a false beard, and presided over the affairs of state with a notable vigor and some excellent success.

None of this could have been achieved without a dedicated following of powerful supporters, and, as I said before, she definitely had all it takes to deserve it. It is true that later on, as her young ward, Thutmose III, (relegated by her to serve as a priest of the god Amon, whom she, incidentally, claimed as her father, along with her real father Thutmose I), was coming of age and proving himself as a force to reckon with, her own power waned, and eventually evaporated. But the twenty-one years of her personal power (1503-1482) are to stand as an even greater tribute to her genius than the two great obelisks at Karnak and the great temple at Deir el Bahri, originally furnished with her numerous statues. Hating her memory, Thutmose III would later take her name off the monuments, and demolish her statues, but he was nonetheless powerless to erase her name from history, where she remains enthroned as the earliest paragon of woman power.

A propos, according to a popular Judaeo-Christian “Midrash,” Hatshepsut was the daughter of the Pharaoh in Exodus 2:5, who rescued baby Moses from the water, starting the well-known chain of hallowed events. The historicity of the Midrash story is most certainly woefully suspect, but I still propose that such world-historical theological distinction of the first magnitude must speak an additional volume or two in behalf of her genius, whether the story is true (very doubtful!) or (more likely) not.

Talking of woman power it should be of special significance to us that Hatshepsut comes from Egypt. As if she alone were not enough, a later great woman story gives us the Warrior Queen Zenobia (240-274 AD), coming to us from Syria, where she personally headed the revolt against foreign (Roman) domination. Not only that, but many Arabic historians insist on her Arabic ethnicity, calling her by the name al-Zabba. It is of little importance that she identified herself as Greek, tracing her origin to Alexander’s general Seleucus, and partially to Ptolemy, and counting all seven Cleopatras as her relatives. The fact that the Arabic culture of Egypt and Syria recognizes several great women as part of these nations’ history ought to raise the status of women in these countries. However, the position of women may already be in jeopardy in Egypt, and, if the Assad government collapses, and considering the nature of the Syrian rebels, an even harsher fate may befall the women of Syria. (It is tragically ironic that today’s Western defenders of the porno-blasphemous “woman-power” of the “Pussy Riot” slutfest have at the same time gone out of their way to undermine and demolish the best guarantee of women’s freedom and equality to men, sustained for the last four decades in Syria under the al-Assad dynasty… But, apparently, there is some logic here: unless you want to celebrate freedom the Western way, you belong behind the hijab!)

Queen Hatshepsut was disgraced after her death. Queen Zenobia was brought in chains to Rome after her rebellion was crushed. Yet history has been kind to both of them, as they’ve certainly deserved their heroic legends, and every legend is a lesson to posterity, which no nation that has given rise to it, must ever forget.