Naguib Mahfouz: Akhenaten: Dweller in Truth

Tey and Mutnedjmet were furious, and accused her of apostasy.

At that time, we were invited to the pharaoh's palace to celebrate thirty years of his reign. It was the first time our daughters had entered the palace, and by a stroke of fate, Nefertiti won the love of the crown prince. Everything happened so quickly thereafter. We could still hardly believe it, when Nefertiti and Akhenaten became husband and wife. I was summoned once more by the high priest of Amun. This time, as I stood before him, I felt that he regarded me as a potential enemy.

“You have become a member of the royalty, Ay.” His voice was filled with apprehension.

“I am but a man who has never strayed from the course of duty.”

“Only time can prove the true merits of men,” he said calmly.

He asked me to arrange for a conference with Nefertiti. Before the appointed time I spoke with my daughter and armed her with advice. I must say though that Nefertiti had no need of counseling-her own wisdom aided her more than any advice she received. She answered the high priest's questions eloquently, without revealing secrets or making commitments. I believe that the priest's hostility toward my daughter started with that encounter.

“Father,” she reported, “it may have seemed an innocent meeting on the surface, but in reality we were fighting an undeclared war. He claims that he is concerned for the empire when in fact he is only worried about his share of the goods that flow into the temple. He is a crafty, wicked man.”

When the conflict grew between the pharaoh and his son, the king called me in and said, “I think we should send the prince on a tour of the empire. He needs experience, and must learn more about people and life.” At that time, the king was enjoying his last days with a bride young enough to be his granddaughter-Tadukhipa, daughter of Tushratta, the king of Mitanni.

“It is a sound idea, my gracious King,” I replied sincerely.

So Akhenaten left Thebes accompanied by a delegation of the best young men in the country. I, too, was chosen to go with him on that memorable journey. In the provinces, the subjects had expected to see a powerful, invincible being, a high and mighty god looking down upon them. Instead, the crown prince greeted them humbly as he walked among them in public gardens and on their plantations. Priests and religious scholars were invited to convene with him. He denounced their faiths. What god, he asked, is so bloodthirsty that it cannot be worshiped without the sacrifice of human souls? He proclaimed his One God the only creator of the universe. He told them that God regarded all his creation indiscriminately with love, peace, and joy; that love was the only law, peace was the ultimate end, and joy was the gratitude offered to the creator. Everywhere he went he left behind a whirlwind of confusion and frenzied excitement. I became extremely alarmed.

“My dear Prince,” I said, “you are pulling out the roots of the empire.”

He laughed. “When will you believe, Master?”

“You have slandered all the religions of our ancestors, religions we have learned to believe in and respect. Equality… love… peace… all this means nothing to the subjects but an open invitation to rebelliousness and strife.”

He thought a while, then asked, “Why do wise men like yourself believe so firmly in evil?”

“We believe in reality.”

“Master,” he said with a smile, “I will forever dwell in truth.”

Before we were able to visit all the provinces as planned, a messenger from the palace reached us with the news that the Great Pharaoh was dead.

Ay recounted the details of their return to Thebes, the grand entombment ceremony, and the crowning of the prince on the throne of Egypt. Akhenaten became King Amenhotep IV, and his wife, Nefertiti, the Great Queen. As was the custom, the new king inherited his father's harem. Although he treated them kindly, he abstained from any pleasure they offered him.

Ay then told me how Akhenaten summoned the noble men of the country and urged them to join his religion. Thus, he was able to select his men from those who declared their faith in the One and Only God. Mae was appointed commander of the armed forces; Haremhab became chief of security; Ay was chosen for the position of adviser to the throne.

“You will hear conflicting reports on why we declared our faith in Akhenaten's god,” Ay told me. “But no one knows what the heart really holds.” Feeling that I was after the secret of his heart, he told me, “I believed in the new god as a deity to be worshiped along with all the other deities. But I also believed that everyone should have the freedom to worship whichever god they chose.”

Akhenaten continued his reform throughout the empire. He reduced taxes, and abolished all punitive measures. “My King,” Ay advised him, “if public servants are no longer afraid of punishment, they will soon become corrupt, and the poor will be their sorry prey.” The king shrugged and replied confidently, “You are still wavering, Ay, and your faith is not strong enough. You will soon see what wonders love can do. My God will never let me down.” Meanwhile, relations between the new king and the priests of Amun had become so strained that Akhenaten resolved to build a new city and move the throne.

Thus we moved to Akhetaten, a city of unrivaled beauty. Upon arrival, we held the first prayer in the grand temple that was erected in the center of the city. Nefertiti played the mandolin. She was like a jewel, radiant with youth and beauty as she sang:

Each passing day was a sweet dream, filled with happiness and love. The blossom of the new religion was growing rapidly in our hearts. But the king did not forget his mission. In the name of love and peace, the pharaoh fought the most ferocious war Egypt had witnessed. He decreed the closing of temples, confiscated all the idols, and erased their names from the monuments. It was then that he changed his name to Akhenaten. Then he toured the country proclaiming his religion. People received him with amazing love and eagerness. In the past, they had heard about pharaohs without ever seeing them, but now the image of Akhenaten and Nefertiti in their public appearances became engraved on their memories forever.

But the dream did not last. Clouds of sorrow began to gather; hesitant at first, then quickly they broke like a fierce cataract. There was the death of his second daughter, Meketaten, the most beautiful and loved one of all his children. He was consumed with grief, and mourned her with more tears than he had shed in his boyhood after the death of his brother Tuthmosis.

When he cried out “Why?” to his god, I suspected he was about to lose his faith. Then we began to receive news of the growing corruption of the public servants and merchants. The cries of hungry people grew louder. Several regions of the empire were now in a state of mutiny. Our enemies began to attack the borders. Tushratta, king of Mitanni and our strongest ally, was killed defending the country.

“We must eradicate all the elements of corruption, and send the army to defend our borders,” I urged him desperately.

“Love is my arms and my armor, Ay,” he said, unwavering. “You must be patient.”

How can I possibly explain the curious events that transpired? The priests accused the pharaoh of madness. In his last days, some of Akhenaten's men came to share that opinion. Although I was admittedly rather confused, I rejected that idea completely. He was neither mad nor sane like the rest of us. He was something in between. I could never understand him.