Naguib Mahfouz - Akhenaten - Dweller in Truth

“Shouldn't the crown prince strengthen the succession of the throne by marrying a princess with royal blood?” I asked my mother.

“If the pharaoh has accepted the prince's intended bride knowing that she is not royalty, then it can't be important,” Mother replied. “Remember, the pharaoh himself didn't marry a princess.” Then she kissed my forehead tenderly and whispered, “Be patient, Mutnedjmet. There is no question that you are superior to Nefertiti in every way. But when fate is in command, we become helpless spectators. Try to be content with your lot. After all you will be the queen's sister, nothing short of a princess. You must not forget that your fortune will come to you inasmuch as you are loyal to your sister.”

“Thank you for the advice, Mother,” I replied firmly, “but I have enough wisdom to realize my new obligations. My loyalties, however, will not change.”

Later, Nefertiti and I talked privately. “Are you really fond of him?” I asked.

“And who might you be referring to?” she teased.

“Your future husband, of course.”

“He is a miracle among men,” she replied enthusiastically.

“As a man, too?”

“There is no separation between the man in the priest and the priest in the man.”

I knew what she was thinking; I could always read her mind. She would share the king's throne as queen and priestess, and gratify her lust elsewhere. And she carried through her decision, encouraged by her husband's impotency and his policy that abolished punishment. I learned about Akhenaten's perverse sexuality through my daily visits to the harem. There they knew facts that remained hidden from the closest of his men. It was the women of the harem who exposed the sinful relationship between the king and his mother, the only woman in whose embrace he was able to overcome his impotency. The Great Queen was both his mother and the mother of his daughter. Our country had never known such evil before. I knew then that I was destined to witness the darkest time in the history of Egypt. I vowed that I would always stand with the truth wherever it may be.

Amenhotep III died and Nefertiti became queen of Egypt and the empire. We lived some dreary days in Thebes, before moving to Akhetaten, the most beautiful city the world has known. It was magnificent in Akhetaten at first. Our days were full of joy and comfort. The gods gave the heretic a respite and paved the way for his success, but only so that he could indulge further in sin. Hence Amun was able to avenge himself just at the moment when Akhenaten thought that his god was victorious.

“Where are the gods?” I asked my mother in a moment of privacy. “Why don't they do something?”

“Mutnedjmet, this is a sign that the new god is the true one,” she replied, much to my surprise.

I stared at her in disbelief. I felt as though the world I knew had come to an end, and that a new one was replacing it. But fast as it had come, the sweet dream Akhenaten had created began to fade, and the clouds of gloom rumbled on the distant horizon. In time, the grip grew tighter on Akhetaten.

“This is Amun venting his anger at last,” I said to my father.

“You sound like those malicious priests.”

“Tell me, Father, what really is your duty in a time like this?”

“I don't need to be reminded of my duty, Mutnedjmet,” he replied irritably.

I asked Nefertiti once, “Will you not do something to defend your throne?”

“We do our best to serve the throne of the One God,” she replied. I was not convinced by her enthusiasm.

You must not think that she spoke out of devotion. When it came to loyalty, Nefertiti was utterly lacking. She was merely afraid that if she warned her husband of the consequences of his stubbornness he would withdraw his trust from her and choose another woman to share his throne. During my attempts to talk some sense into Akhenaten's men, I discovered that Toto, the chief epistoler, had secretly harbored a loyalty to Amun. Toto became the middle man between me and the high priest of Amun. It was absolute torment. I had to choose between my family and my country and gods. By joining the priests' camp I risked the peace in my family, and even my own safety.

“The high priest wishes to win the queen to our side,” Toto said one day. “He asked for your help.”

“I have tried, believe me. You don't suppose I waited for the high priest to tell me something so obvious. Nefertiti, I admit, is no less foolish than the heretic.”

The high priest convinced Queen Tiye to visit Akhetaten. When her attempts were to no avail, he came in person to deliver his last warning to Akhenaten's men. Toto did not agree with the high priest. He favored an unannounced raid upon them. “Set the heathen city on fire,” he declared.

I so much wanted to win Haremhab, chief of security, to our side. He had insuperable power in Akhetaten. Since he had a reputation for being utterly candid, I was quite direct with him. I found, however, that he was very cautious. Perhaps he did not trust me, just as I did not fully trust him at first. Indeed, I had to discuss things with him several times before I became confident that he was in agreement with us. I waited until civil war loomed over Egypt.

“We must reassess our strategies,” I said. Haremhab looked at me curiously, and I continued, “We cannot let Egypt burn to ashes.”

“Did you not speak to your sister?” he asked cunningly.

“She speaks the king's tongue. They are both insane.” My frankness startled him.

“What do you advise?” He appeared keen.

“Anything is permissible if it will save the country,” I replied.

Mutnedjmet continued after a moment of silence. “It was truly a tragedy, even greater than the invasion of Egypt by the Hyksos. You must have heard several times how it all ended. Akhenaten was insane; unfortunately for all of us, he inherited the throne of Egypt and used it to exercise his morbid impulses. I place more blame on Nefertiti, for she is not lacking in reason. But she wanted only to nurse her ambition and cultivate more power. When Akhenaten's glory began to fade, she abandoned him just like that. She even tried to join his enemies; perhaps she hoped to be queen of the new throne. Look at her now, buried in dark solitude, bitter and full of regret.”

Meri-Ra's face was a prelude to the sadness inside him. His skin was bronzed by the sun. He was slim, rather tall, in his mid-forties. He lived alone in a small house, with no companions or servant. Meri-Ra was once the high priest of the One and Only God in Akhetaten, the city of light. I visited him in his town, Deshasha, two days north of Thebes. When he read my father's letter he asked me, smiling, “Why do you take such a burden upon yourself?”

“To find out the truth,” I answered.

“It is good to think that there is one person who seeks the truth,” he nodded. “Perhaps I was the only one who was driven out of Akhetaten by force. I refused to abandon my king. The voice of God was silenced, the temple was destroyed, but destiny has yet to have its final word.” Then he gazed at me with his sad brown eyes and began his story.

I was fortunate to have been among the prince's closest companions from boyhood. Akhenaten and I were greatly drawn to mystical themes. We studied the religion of Amun together, as well as Aten. Like many of our peers, I was enchanted with his charm. I admired his sensitivity and insight. He was a remarkable theologian. He blessed me with the words that later conquered everyone's heart: “I love you, Meri-Ra. Do not withhold your love from me.”