Journal of Cuneiform Studies (JCS 60) 2008

CONSIDERATIONS ON A DELIVERY OF SPEARHEADS FROM EBLA Alfonso Archi (Università di Roma “La Sapienza”) The discovery of ...

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CONSIDERATIONS ON A DELIVERY OF SPEARHEADS FROM EBLA Alfonso Archi (Università di Roma “La Sapienza”)

The discovery of a single small tablet, TM.07.G.201 (8.0 x 8.6 x 2.5 cm), in a room north of the Audience Hall of the Royal Palace at Ebla del Palazzo provides us with the opportunity to reconsider the limitations of the textual information often provided by cuneiform documents.1

Obverse (reverse uninscribed) I. 1. 2 li-im gis-gu urudu Na-gàr ki 3. 7 mi-at gis-gu urudu

5.

Kis ki 1 mi-at gis-gu urudu Da-a-sumfikifl

1. For a seminal discussion of this topic see M. Civil (1980).

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II.

1. 3. 5.

III. 1. 3. 5. 7.

4 mi-at gis-gu urudu Gàr-muki 2 mi-at 80 gis-gu urudu I-bí-bu16ki 2 mi-at gis-gu urudu Ur-sá-umki 7 mi-at gis-gu urudu A-da-ás ki 5 mi-at 30 gis-gu urudu al6 Bù-ma-lik 2 mi-at gis-gu urudu En-àr-Ar-mi

IV.

1. 3. 5.

7 mi-at gis-gu urudu Nu-ga-muki 1 mi-at 20 gis-gu urudu al6 Ù-ti (uninscribed)

This document registers the delivery of 5930 g i s - g u, an abbreviation for g i s - g u - k a k - g í d, of copper. The overseer of Adas (the town that appears here in III 2) received on another occasion 306 g i s - g u KAK - g í d u r u d u, according to the annual account of expenditures of metals concerning the eleventh year of minister Ibbi-zikir (TM.75.G.2507 rev. XVII 23–24). The meaning “spearhead” has been suggested by H. Waetzoldt (Waetzoldt and Bachmann 1984: 2 with n. 7), referring to the term g ú - g i s - g í d - d a u r u d u known from Mesopotamian sources (Limet 1972: 11; Westenholz 1975: 76 no. 151 line 1). The terms g u and g ú are unrelated, however. A much more likely solution (as Piotr Steinkeller kindly suggests to me) is a con˘ation of two diêrent words: g u - KAK and g i s - g í d - (d a), which in turn correspond to s u k u r = (URUDU).IGI.KAK (MSL 15 192), and g i s - g í d - d a (also g i s - n í g - g í d - d a in lexical texts), Akk. ariktu “spear, lance,” respectively. Both items appear individually in the Early Dynastic lexical sources attested at Ebla. MEE III 44 II 5–6 (NAGAR): g u - KAK - g í d z a b a r, g u - s u b - KAK z a b a r. VE 407: g i s - g í d = ma-za/zi-rí-gú/gúm, possibly OA mazlagu (a fork or hook according to Steinkeller; see also Conti 1990: 129; on g u - KAK u r u d u, see recently Civil 2008: 88). The Bilingual Lexical Lists (VE 479) translate g i s - g u - KAK - g í d with hi-tum, of unknown meaning. Each spearhead usually weighed about 80 to 90 grams; some pieces could reach 158 grams (Archi 1993: 622). The g i s - g u may have the same weight. See, for example, TM.75.G.2145 obv. I 2–II 2: 5;05 ma-na an-na 45 ma-na a-gar5 300 gis-gu UD.(KA.BAR) 10 (gín) 50 ma-na a-gar5 300 gis-gu “5;05 minas of lead (and) 45 minas of copper: 300 g i s - g u of bronze of 10 (shekels); 50 minas of copper: 300 gis-gu of copper of 10 (shekels)” (50 minas = 3,000 shekels; each spearhead = 10 shekels, i.e., 78.3 grams).

TM.75.G.1642 (MEE VII 13) oêrs both writings: g i s - g u - KAK - g í d and g i s - g u. The text can be reduced to the following format: Spearheads

Recipient

2000 700 100 400 280 200 700 530 200 700 120

Na-gàr ki Kis ki Da-a-sumfikifl Gàr-muki I-bí-bu16ki Ur-sá-umki A-da-ás ki Bù-ma-lik En-àr-Ar-mi Nu-ga-muki Ù-ti

5930

Long to Match

CONSIDERATIONS ON A DELIVERY OF SPEARHEADS FROM EBLA

3

As is usually the case with the administrative documents from Ebla, there is no mention of a full date— although sometimes there is a month name—nor is the reason for the transaction speci˜ed. At ˜rst sight it is not even clear whether the spearheads are entering or leaving the palace. The Annual Accounts of Deliveries of Metals (AAMs), however, often record deliveries or copper of bronze spearheads by the central administration, and therefore one can be certain that in this case we are also dealing with objects manufactured at Ebla. Numerous data clearly show that Ebla was an important metalworking center.2 In two cases the text has al6 PN; that is to say, these spearheads were “debited to the account of PN,” that is, they represented a quota of what was due to this particular o¯cial.3 The spearheads are assigned to both cities and people. Among the former, two were the capitals of regional states: Nagar (Tell Brak) in the Habur triangle (Archi 1998), and Kis. The large area stretching from the Mediterranean coast to Babylonia included, apart from the kingdom of Ebla, a fourth regional state, namely, Mari. Its absence from this list, if we consider the fact that Kis dominated the region to the east of Mari, is important for dating and interpreting the document. The delivery of weapons to Nagar and Kis, but not Mari, must relate to the year or months preceding the war that Ebla successfully conducted against Mari, as it is only in documents from this period that Nagar and Kis are mentioned together. There is ample evidence that Ebla prepared for war using diplomatic means. There were various meetings with emissaries of the king of Kis, and ties of loyalty were strengthened anew with a number of city-states, including Ibu/ibu, Garmu, and Ursa’um (mentioned in the text under consideration here). Representatives of Kis and Nagar (a certain Sa’um) accompanied the Eblaite army on its march on Mari (TM.75.G.2277; Archi and Biga 2003: 14–16). Unfortunately, the AAMs relating to these last years are incomplete (Archi and Biga 2003: 13–14) and there is no mention in the surviving fragments of the delivery of the spearheads referred to in TM.07.G.201. A late date for the document is indicated also by the presence of Uti among the recipients of the spearheads. Son of the minister Ibrium (Archi 1988b: 234–35), he played an important role in the administration (see ARET I 257; IV 264; VII 191; XII 458) alongside his brother Ibbi-zikir when the latter inherited the position of minister from his father. Uti was still active when the princess Kesdut married a prince from Kis (Archi and Biga 2003: 27–28; Archi in press), that is in the year following the campaign against Mari. The identities of Enar-Armi and Bu-malik, are uncertain, as these names are more common in the Ebla archives. Da-a-sum poses a few problems since it is a female name, attributed to a woman of the palace in the time of King Irkab-damu (thirty-˜ve to forty years before the destruction of Ebla; Archi 1996: 121). A Daåasum appears amongst the “women of the king,” d a m e n, also during the last years of Ebla (ARET VIII 527 [7]). This di¯culty can only be resolved by emending the text to read Da-a-sumfikifl.4 This is not uncommon in the Ebla texts, where geographical names are sometimes identical with personal names (ARES II 26–29), generating some confusion: occasionally the former do not have the place name determinative; at times this determinative is erroneously placed after personal names. Ibibu (a variant of Ibubu),5 Garmu, and Ursaåum were city-states that took part in Ebla’s expedition against Mari (as noted above) and Adas and Nugamu were two agricultural centers controlled by an “overseer,” u g u l a (ARES II: 92–93 and 412). The u g u l a of Adas (Rí-ì-ma-lik during the period of minister Ibrium; Ig-na-da-ar in the time of Ibbi-zikir), however, played a fairly important role in the administration (for the u g u l a of Adas in the m u - t ú m documents, see the Indices of ARET XIV, in press). According to the AAM TM.75.G.2507 rev. XVII 23–24, the overseer of Adas received 306 spearheads, (g i s - g u - k a k - g í d u r u d u) in the eleventh year of Ibbi-zikir. The head o¯cial of this small center

2. Lists of the workers depending from the Palace mention 460–500 s i m u g (“metalworkers”); Archi (1988a: 136). 3. See ARET VII 136: “3;40 minas of copper on account of PN, overseer of the metalworkers.” See further Archi (2002a: 2–3). 4. Compare Da-åà-su/zu/zúki. 5. This writing is attested also in the documents of ARET IX, to be dated to the last three years of Ebla (ARET IX: 374–75, I-bí-bubu16ki).

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must have also had some kind of role in the military organization, as well as providing the administration with agricultural products. The document, therefore, brings together three city-states that were traditionally linked to Ebla, and the capitals of two large states that, in a certain period, shared common interests with Ebla. The hypothesis that Ebla, with its well-established metallurgical industry, wanted to provide certain friendly kings with weapons so as to persuade them to participate in the expedition against Mari, thus appears to be quite well founded. The fact that only Uti (together with another two people) and two centers of the Eblaite realm were provided with new weapons means that this was not a general conscription. While the u g u l a of Adas was an o¯cial with a role of some importance in the central administration, the center of Nugamu is recorded only in deliveries of agricultural produce and cattle. The context in which the tablet was found does not provide us with any useful information. It was discovered in L.9583, one of the rooms of the northwestern section of Royal Palace G, built on the slope of the acropolis north of M.2614, the northern wall of the “Audience Hall,” and M.2557, the wall delimiting the “Ceremonial Staircase” towards the north. The locus L.2586 (immediately north of M.2557) belongs to the room, where thirty-two tablets were found scattered on the ˘oor in 1974, near the base of a jar. On the ˘oor of L.9583, together with tablet TM.07.G.201, were found two female statuettes, made using diêrent techniques. One shows a seated ˜gure (h. 7 cm), covered in a kaunakes mantle of gold from which only the forearms and feet, in white limestone, emerge, along with the face and the hair, which are sculpted in steatite. In the right hand, the ˜gure is holding a small jasper cup. The other is a standing ˜gure (h. 15 cm), with a long black steatite gown from which a breast and the arms emerge. These are of silver, like the face. The left arm is bent at the elbow, the hand turned towards the left cheek.6 This unusual pose could represent a gesture of condolence made during funeral rites (the mourning women on three sides of the Ahiram sarcophagus, with unlaced corsets, injure their breasts and tear their hair).7 Apart from the statuettes, diêrent kinds of bronze and stone objects were also found on the ˘oor. The room may have been used as a workshop, although this does not explain the presence there of a written document. References Archi, A. 1988a

Zur Organisation der Arbeit in Ebla. Pp. 131–38 in Wirtschaft und Gesellschaft von Ebla, ed. H. Hauptmann and H. Waetzoldt. HSAO 2. Heidelberg: Heidelberger Orientverlag. 1988b The Sons, dumu-nita, of Ibrium. Pp. 233–35 in Eblaite Personal Names and Semitic Name-Giving, ed. A. Archi. ARES I. Rome: Missione Archeologica Italiana in Siria. 1993 Bronze Alloys in Ebla. Pp. 615–25 in Between the Rivers and over the Mountains: Archaeologica Anatolica et Mesopotamica Alba Palmieri Dedicata, ed. M. Frangipane, et al. Rome: Dipartimento di Scienze Storiche Archeologiche e Antropologiche dell’Antichità, Università di Roma “La Sapienza.” 1996 Les femmes du roi Irkab-Damu. Amurru 1: 101–24. 1998 The Regional State of Nagar According to the Texts of Ebla. Subartu IV/2: 1–15. 2002a Prepositions at Ebla. Eblaitica 4: 1–21. 2002b Jewels for the Ladies of Ebla. ZA 92: 161–99. In press Rank at the Court of Ebla. In J. Black Memorial Volume, eds. H. Baker, E. Robson, and G. Zólyomi. Archi, A., and Biga, M. G. 2003 A Victory over Mari and the Fall of Ebla. JCS 55: 1–44. Civil, M. 1980 Les limites de l’information textuelle. Pp. 225–32 in L’archéologie de l’Iran du début de l’époque néolitique à 333 avant notre ère: Perspectives et limites de l’interpretation anthropologique des documents, ed. M.-Th. Barrelet. Paris: Éditions du Centre Nationale de la Recherche Scienti˜que. 6. See P. Matthiae, CRAIBC 2009. 7. On the wailing rite, see Archi (2002b: 184–86).

CONSIDERATIONS ON A DELIVERY OF SPEARHEADS FROM EBLA

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The Early Dynastic Practical Vocabulary A (Archaic HAR-ra A). ARES 4. Rome: Missione Archeologica Italiana in Siria. Il sillabario della quarta fonte della lista lessicale bilingue eblaita. Pp. 1–220 in Miscellanea Eblaitica 3, ed. P. Fronzaroli. Quaderni di Semitistica 17. Firenze: Università di Firenze.

Limet, H. 1972 Les métaux à l’époque d’Agadé. JESHO 15: 3–34. Waetzoldt, H., and Bachmann, H. G. 1984 Zinn- und Arsenbronzen in den Texten aus Ebla und aus Mesopotamien des 3. Jahrtausends. OrAnt 23: 1–18. Westenholz, A. 1975 Early Cuneiform Texts in Jena: Pre-Sargonic and Sargonic Documents from Nippur and Fara in the Hilprecht-Sammlung vorderasiatischer Altertümer, Institut fur Altertumswissenschaften der FriedrichSchiller-Universität, Jena. København: Munksgaard.

NAMNINE-HEDU, YET ANOTHER UR III PRINCESS Christina Tsouparopoulou (University of Cambridge)

The royal family of the Ur III period (2112–2004 BC) has been the focus of numerous studies since the ˜rst publications of Neo-Sumerian cuneiform tablets. Its extent and familial relations are quite well known, although doubts still remain for example as to the paternity of the third and fourth kings of the Ur III Dynasty (†u-Sin and Ibbi-Sin). We know of several royal wives, “concubines,” as well as queens (d a m, l u k u r and n i n respectively), such as Amat-Suen, Geme-Ninlila (Michalowski 1979), †ulgi-Simti, the l u k u r of †ulgi, and n i n (MVN 8 97: 110).1 We also know of several royal children (d u m u l u g a l and d u m u - m u n u s l u g a l), such as †elepputum (Klein 1990);2 brothers and sisters of the kings or the royal wives, such as Babati, the brother of Abi-Simti and uncle of King †u-Sin (Whiting 1976; Walker 1983); and so on. Although our knowledge of the royal family is fairly good, undoubtedly many more members and their relations are bound to be discovered in the future and our knowledge revised. This paper is concerned with a new member of the Ur III royal family unknown until now, namely, the princess Namnine-hedu. The evidence comes from the study of tablets BM 115807 and Kyoto 18, and more speci˜cally the identical seal impressions on both of them that explicitly mention the princess Namnine-hedu. Tablet BM 115807,3, now located in the British Museum, was recently published in the Nisaba Series (Politi and Verderame 2005); the authors acknowledged the existence of a seal impression on the tablet but presented it as mostly illegible. Tablet Kyoto 18,4 now located in the Kyoto University Museum, was published in 1928 by Nakahara; the author however did not acknowledge the existence of a seal impression. Both tablets have been tentatively assigned to Drehem in their respective publications, with the Kyoto tablet dated with the Reichskalender; nonetheless, both Michalowski and the anonymous JCS reviewer Tablet BM 115807 refers to the tablet 104 published in Politi and Verderame (2005) and tablet Kyoto 18 refers to the tablet published in Nakahara (1928). I would like to thank H. Crawford, M. Hilgert, A. McMahon, R. Mayr, P. Michalowski, N. Postgate, T. Sharlach, and an anonymous referee for their valuable contribution during the preparation of this article. 1. Much has been written so far about the royal wives and the wives of high-ranking o¯cials. Michalowski in particular has written extensively on the royal wives and princesses in a series of articles (1976, 1979, 1982). Also, Steinkeller (1981) has tackled the issue of royal women. See also Sigrist (1986), and Boese and Sallaberger (1996). An excellent review on the Ur III royal family can be found in Sallaberger (1999); the royal women have now been fully studied by Weiershäuser (2008). 2. †ulgi in particular must have had more than forty children. 3. This tablet came to my attention in May 2005, when I visited the British Museum Collection to study the sealed tablets from Drehem. Lorenzo Verderame and Janet Politi kindly provided me with a draft of their then forthcoming publication of those tablets (2005). 4. This tablet was collated by the author from published photographs of the tablet as well as new photographs sent by Mrs. Awata and Mr. Tomii. I would like to thank both of them for providing me with more photographs of the tablet and especially Professor Yamanaka for his help locating the tablet and commissioning the photographs.

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of the present article, point out that due to their shape the tablets can be assigned to Umma with con˜dence.5 Tablets BM 115807 and Kyoto 18 BM 115807 is a small square tablet measuring 32 x 32 mm. It is not ruled and is written on both obverse and reverse. It is a small receipt of wool and strings of ˜gs by the s a b r a Adallal from †eskala in the ˜fth year of Amar-Suena’s reign: 1. 15 ma-na siki 2. 7 gispès se-er-gu 3. ki ses-kal-la-ta 4. a-da-làl sabra / su ba-ti 5. mu en-unu6-gal-dinanna ba-hun “Adallal the s a b r a received 15 minas of wool and 7 strings of ˜gs from †eskala; AS 5.” Kyoto 18 is a small oblong tablet, inscribed on both obverse and reverse, without ruling, measuring 38.6 x 42.8 mm. It records the receipt of 15 s ì l a of a medicinal plant by Adallal from †eskala:6 1. 0.0.1 5 sìla ú-KUR 2. ki †es-kal-la-ta 3. A-da-làl 4. su ba-ti 5. iti ezen dnin-a-zu 6. mu En-mah-gal-an-na en dnanna ba-hun “Adallal received 15 s i l a of a medicinal plant from †eskala. Month 5, AS 4.” The only diêrences between the two are the lack of Adallal’s title in Kyoto 18, and the type of product received. The Seal The Inscription In most, if not all, Ur III sealed documents the impression of the seal overlaps the text on the tablet, making the interpretation of the seal legend sometimes di¯cult. Nevertheless, it is possible to reconstruct almost all parts of the seal impression from tablet BM 115807. The seal reads: 1. nam-nin-e-hé-[du7] 2. [dumu]-munus lugal 3. a-da-làl 4. sukkal árad-zu

Namnine-hedu, princess, Adallal the s u k k a l (is) your servant

5. Note, however, that some pillow-shaped tablets, characteristic of Umma or Girsu, seem to have been found at Drehem, e.g., OIP 121 135; NYPL 287 (Tsouparopoulou 2008). 6. I collated the sign KUR from photographs kindly sent to my by Mr. Tomii.

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This seal impression belongs to the á r a d - z u type seals: seals that showed the seal owner’s subjective position to some other person. There were several diêrent types of á r a d - z u seals. This type of inscription, as we have here, was used for the servants of relatively high-ranking people (Mayr 1997). The overlord could be the king,7 an e n s i,8 a s a g i n a,9 the s u k k a l - m a h,10 a princess11 and generally people with various high supervisory positions. Adallal,12 the owner of the seal, went by the title of s u k k a l. In the text of the tablets BM 115807 and Kyoto 18 an Adallal is responsible for receiving several products from a †eskala, once without a title (Kyoto 18) and once with the title s a b r a (BM 115807). From a preliminary study of the sealed tablets from Drehem, it is common practice that the person who receives the products is the one who also seals the tablet, at least when there is no intervening o¯cial in the transaction.13 Thus, we are lead to believe that Adallal the sealing o¯cial and Adallal the receiving o¯cial are the same person. The two diêrent titles attached to his name, s u k k a l on his seal and s a b r a on tablet BM 115807, are not mutually exclusive.14 The Scene Adallal’s seal presents some interesting iconographic elements that help to date its manufacture. The scene on this seal is the principal type of the Ur III period, the presentation scene. It measures 34 x 16 mm without the end caps, and 34 x 20 mm with the end caps. It is a four-participant introduction scene, where a goddess standing before the worshipper grasps the latter’s wrist introducing him to the primary ˜gure. A spouted vessel, a common iconographic motif in Ur III seals, ˜lls the space between the primary ˜gure and the introducing goddess. In front of the primary ˜gure’s head and just above the spouted vessel is an astral symbol that looks like the sun. Its rays do not resemble any astral symbol used in Old Akkadian and Ur III representations. Furthermore, the astral symbols of the Ur III period are accompanied by crescents, which the current symbol lacks.15 These two characteristics make it quite unusual, and the author has not been able to ñd a similar astral symbol in the glyptic of the Ur III period. That would point to some kind of freedom of expression allowed to the artists of this period, and would possibly indicate a workshop 7. Most á r a d - z u seals actually name the king as the seal owner’s overlord. 8. For example, the seal of †ara-bazige the servant of Ur-Lisi, governor of Umma (Nik. 2 99; SACT 2 04; PDT 2 1372, etc.). 9. For example, the seal of Masum, the servant of Ur-Suena, general of Uruk (Trouvaille 74 = RIME 3/2.1.2.97). 10. Like the seal of Iddin-Irra the servant of Lani, the s u k k a l - m a h (TCL 2 5537). 11. Like the seals of Ummi-tabat, the servant of the princess †at-dSin (RIME 3/2 339) and the seal of Atanah, the servant of the princess Mammetum (RIME E3/2.1.5.6). 12. Adallal is a very common name in Ur III administrative texts. It is an Akkadian name meaning “I give praise” and it seems as though all places had at least two or three persons named Adallal. Akkadian names such as Adallal are quite common in texts coming from Girsu and Drehem, whereas Umma as a more Sumerian-oriented milieu does not have so many occurrences of this same name or of Akkadian names in general. 13. At least ninety percent of the Drehem sealed tablets bear the seal of the person who received the animals or other products with the remaining ten percent of the sealing o¯cials having either familial relations with the receiving o¯cial (e.g., Nasa seals for his son Aba-saga or Aba-saga uses the seal of his father Nasa in transactions where Aba-saga is the receiving o¯cial) or the o¯cial who seals is of higher status in the administrative machinery than the receiving o¯cial. Furthermore, in the rare cases where the same PN was used on the same tablet to refer to two diêrent individuals, the distinction between individuals was most commonly made by the use of a patronymic rather than a title (Tsouparopoulou 2008). 14. Any kind of ruler could have a s u k k a l, and possibly lesser o¯cials would have s u k k a ls as well, while s a b r a s could equally be “employed” to run a large estate on behalf of their owners. If the king or a princess in such a situation had a particular relationship of trust and reliance on her s u k k a l, she might formalize that by making the s u k k a l her s a b r a, or the s a b r a of her estate. Then the s u k k a l would be expected to use a seal that says its owner is a s u k k a l, which he would have cut relatively early, but when authorizing tablets, he might write “seal of PN, s a b r a” (R. Mayr, personal communication). In this case, it is possible that the princess Namnine-hedu made Adallal her s a b r a after he had been her s u k k a l. 15. See, for example, the seals of Lugal-emahe, Lugal-itida, Lugal-nìlagare, Lugal-pae, Mansum, Urzu in Mayr (1997). Mayr mentions that crescents were more commonly associated with seals of poorer carving.

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Fig. 1. A composite drawing of Adallal’s seal, based on both tablets BM 115807 and Kyoto 18 (scale 3:1). originating from the early years of †ulgi’s reign when the standardization of symbols has not yet taken an absolute form. The worshipper, standing behind the introducing goddess, wears a pleated dress and a cap on his head. Worshippers wearing caps are not common in Ur III glyptic. The few examples of seals with this feature in the Umma archive are generally impressed on tablets dating to the beginning of †ulgi’s reign.16 The four-participant introduction scene was also not very common in the art of the Ur III period. It was usually associated with seal impressions of high quality, since it required more labor from the artist. The “cost” incurred by adding a fourth ˜gure might indicate a “wealthy” owner, as an identical message could be conveyed by a simpler three-participant introduction scene (R. Mayr, pers. comm.). Furthermore, this type of presentation scene can be usually found in seals that are dated to the ˜rst years of †ulgi’s reign. The Sealings Adallal’s seal was rolled vertically several times on the obverse and the reverse of the tablet BM 115807, after the tablet was inscribed. More speci˜cally, the seal was rolled three times on the obverse and three times on the reverse, where only traces of the actual seal legend are observable, although most of the scene can be seen.

Fig. 2. How the seal was rolled on the obverse and reverse of tablet BM 115807 (scale 3:2). 16. See, for example, 541.1, 779.2, 804, etc, in Mayr (1997).

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On tablet Kyoto 18 the seal was impressed almost in an identical manner; three times on the reverse and probably four times on the obverse. The cylinder seal was impressed in full, as both legend and scene are visible. The pressure applied is identical, as is the way the seal was rolled, implying that the same hand could have sealed both tablets.17

Fig. 3. How the seal was rolled on the obverse and reverse of tablet Kyoto 18 (scale 3:2). It is obvious that Adallal’s seal had end caps, either metal or imitation. Unfortunately, from impressions of seals on tablets alone it is not straightforward to diêrentiate between imitation end caps and the expensive metal caps. If, nonetheless, Adallal’s seal had metal end caps, it would mean that the owner of the seal was of high social status. If, on the other hand, imitation caps were carved directly from the original stone on his cylinder seal—a common practice in many small and average-quality Ur III seals—then Adallal would be of less exalted status. If Adallal’s seal had imitation caps (which seems more plausible) that would date the seal to relatively early in †ulgi’s reign, since in general the fashion of manufacturing seals with imitation caps dates to before †40. From the impressions of the seal on both tablets it looks as though Adallal’s seal was worn. The legend is not very legible in any of the impressions and the ˜gures are not sharp. The abrasion of the cylinder seal was probably due both to it being worn as jewelry as well as to it being made from some kind of soft stone that would eventually wear out by the passing of time.18 These small typological details (worn seal, imitation caps) as well as the iconographic features discussed above, such as the four-participant introduction scene, the star without a ring or crescent, and the fact that the worshipper wears a cap, point towards an early date for the cutting of Adallal’s seal, much earlier than the date of BM 115807 and Kyoto 18 (AS5 and AS4 respectively). Namnine-Hedu, the Princess Namnine-hedu appears in the impressions of Adallal’s seal on both tablets as d u m u - m u n u s l u g a l (princess), thus providing us with yet one more name of the Ur III royal family, hitherto unknown. 17. An analysis of the actual practice of rolling a seal on a tablet could yield very interesting information regarding the use of the seal per se as an administrative and bureaucratic tool (see Hattori 2002; Tsouparopoulou 2008). 18. There are several soft stones from which cylinder seals in the Ur III period were made, such as serpentine, marble and steatite. All these stones tend to wear out more easily and quickly than the harder stones, such as hematite (Haussperger 1991: 265–66).

12


The name Namnine-hedu occurs in two other documents. The ˜rst, BM 020776 (BM Messenger 206), dated to the sixteenth year of Ur-Namma,19 is a messenger text from Girsu. Its translation is: “3 garments were issued for the palace; 1 garment (was issued) as the provisions of Namnine-hedu, the wife of Gàr?x?-ma; the expenditures of Lu-gina.”20 This tablet is half a century earlier than the tablets on which the seal of Adallal features. The large span of time might prompt one to assume that we are dealing with diêrent persons and a reuse of the names in the royal family.21 Another occurrence of the same name appears on tablet BM 19254 (unpublished),22 which comes from Girsu and is dated to †30.11. It records the expenditure of ˘our as a regular delivery (s á - d u g4) for Namnine-hedu (Sigrist et al. 1996).23 Regular deliveries were often presented to s a b r a s,24 governors,25 deities,26 kings,27 the wives of governors,28 princesses,29 queens,30 the concubines of kings,31 and so on. If we may conclude that this Namnine-hedu is a princess, the date of the tablet, that is, †ulgi 30, ˜ts with Namnine-hedu as either †ulgi’s daughter or his sister and the daughter of Ur-Namma. Discussion I argued above that Namnine-hedu is an additional Ur III princess entirely unknown until now. The Namnine-hedu mentioned in the Girsu messenger text, dated to the reign of Ur-Namma, cannot be identical to the Namnine-hedu, the princess. The Namnine-hedu mentioned on BM 19254 might be identical to the princess Namnine-hedu, the mistress of Adallal. This proposition is also backed by the seal of Adallal her servant, which, as demonstrated above, should date to the early part of †ulgi’s reign. Adallal was probably the head of Namnine-hedu’s estate and her s u k k a l; he might have served Namnine-hedu as a s a b r a for around eighteen years (from †43 until †S7), when he was generally responsible for receiving agricultural products for the household of his mistress, and for providing the state with the household’s obligations. Namnine-hedu could have died some time during the reign of †u-Sin, at which point Adallal stopped using the title s a b r a, since he was no longer the administrator of the princess’ household. Whether he ceased operation, or whether he continued working under a diêrent capacity is unknown.

19. It is not clear whether the form l u g a l Bagara actually refers to Ur-Namma’s sixteenth regnal year. The full year name would be: m u dl u g a l - b a - g á r a é - a - n a k u4 - r a (“the year in which the god Lugal-bagara was brought into his temple”). 20. I would like to thank the anonymous reviewer for correcting my reading of this text. I have included here his/her translation. 21. I would like to thank Tonia Sharlach for pointing this out to me. 22. I would like to thank Manuel Molina for permission to quote this unpublished tablet located in the British Museum and for giving me access to its transliteration through his online database (BDTNS). 23. Tablet BM 19254 was kindly collated by Manuel Molina. 24. Berens 22. 25. Berens 34. 26. For Inanna in AUCT 1 263, for Belat-suhnir and Belat-tirraban in AUCT 3 390 and AnOr 7 91. 27. There are references for †ulgi and †u-Sin when they were alive as well as other regular deliveries for the cult of dead kings. 28. MVN 12 29. 29. MVN 17 4 dated to †47. 30. For the nin in UDT 041. 31. For the l u k u r, such as for Eanisa in BIN 3 555.


13

References Boese, J., and Sallaberger, W. 1996 Apil-Kin von Mari und die Könige der III. Dynastie von Ur. AoF 23: 24–39. Hattori, A. 2002 Texts and Impressions: A Holistic Approach to Ur III Cuneiform Tablets from the University of Pennsylvania Expeditions to Nippur. Ph.D. dissertation, University of Pennsylvania. Haussperger, M. 1991 Die Einf uhrungsszene: Entwicklung eines Mesopotamischen Motivs von der altakkadischen bis zum Ende der altbabylonischen Zeit. Münchener Vorderasiatische Studien XI. München: Pro˜l. Klein, J. 1990 Shelepputum a Hitherto Unknown Ur III Princess. ZA 80: 20–39. Mayr, R. H. 1997 The Seal Impressions of Ur III Umma. Ph.D. dissertation, Leiden University. Michalowski, P. 1976 Royal Women of the Ur III Period, Part I: The Wife of †ulgi. JCS 28: 169–72. 1979 Royal Women of the Ur III Period, Part II, Geme-Ninlila. JCS 31: 171–76. 1982 Royal Women of the Ur III Period, Part III. ASJ 4: 129–42. Nakahara, Y. 1928 The Sumerian Tablets in the Imperial University of Kyoto, Memoirs of the Research Department of the Toyo Bunko (The Oriental Library), 0082-562X; 3. Kyoto: Kyoto University Press. Politi, J., and Verderame, L. 2005 The Drehem Texts in the British Museum (DTBM). Nisaba 8: Studi Assiriologici Messinesi (NSAM). Messina: Di.Sc.A.M. Sallaberger, W. 1999 Ur III-Zeit. Pp. 119–390 in Mesopotamien: Akkade-Zeit und Ur III Zeit, eds. W. Sallaberger and A. Westenholz. OBO 160/3. Freiburg, Switzerland: Universitätsverlag. Sigrist, M. 1986 Kubatum. RA 80: 185. Sigrist, M.; Figulla, H. H.; and Walker, C. B. F. 1996 Catalogue of the Babylonian Tablets in the British Museum, II. London: Trustees of the British Museum. Steinkeller, P. 1981 More on the Ur III Royal Wives. ASJ 3: 77–92. Tsouparopoulou, C. 2008 The Material Face of Bureaucracy: Writing, Sealing, and Archiving Tablets for the Ur III State at Drehem. Ph.D. dissertation, University of Cambridge. Walker, C. B. F. 1983 Another Babati Inscription. JCS 35: 91–96. Weiershäuser, F. 2008 Die königlichen Frauen der III. Dynastie von Ur. Göttinger Beiträge zum Alten Orient, Band 1. Göttingen: Universitätsverlag Göttingen. Whiting, R. M. 1976 Tisatal of Nineveh and Babati, Uncle of †u-Sin. JCS 28: 173–82.

TUM-BA U5-A IN „GILGAMESCH, ENKIDU UND DIE UNTERWELT“ (Z. 154/161) UND DESSEN KONNEX ZU DEN SPIELGERÄTEN Gfl I†ELLAG/PUKKU UND Gfl I†E.KID-MA/MIKKÛ Robert Rollinger (Leopold-Franzens Universität)

Über die Spielgeräte g^ ise l l a g/pukku und g^ isE.KID - m a/mikkû führt die altorientalistische Forschung seit langem eine rege und durchaus kontroverse Diskussion. Dabei wurden die unterschiedlichsten Ansichten geäußert. Die 1934 erstmals von Benno Landsberger vertretene Deutung Trommel (für pukku) und Schlegel (für mikkû; Ranoszek 1934: 210) fand zwar Eingang in viele Übersetzungen, wird inzwischen aber kaum mehr vertreten1. Dies mag daran liegen, daß Landsberger mehr als 25 Jahre später seine Interpretation revidierte, wobei er „Reifen“ und „Treibstecken“ als Übersetzungen vorschlug2. Damit wurde der Blick erstmals auf ein Spiel- und Sportgerät gelenkt. Diese Deutung wird bis heute immer wieder vorgebracht3. Bereits 1976 wartete jedoch Thorkild Jacobsen mit einem konkreteren und verfeinerten Vorschlag auf: „a puck and a stick—for a game which seems to have resembled modern hockey“ ( Jacobsen 1976: 212). Diese Ansicht bekräftigte er 14 Jahre später: „The game was played with a kidney-shaped wooden puck, Sumerian g^ isellag, Akkadian pukku, which was driven with a hockey stick, Sumerian g^ isE-AK, Akkadian mekkû presumably toward the opposing team’s goal“4. Dabei wurde Landsbergers Deutung konkret verworfen: „The interpretation as ‚hoop‘ and ‚driving stick‘ suggested by Landsberger does not explain the Sumerian term ellag ‚kidney‘, since such a shape would be unsuitable for a hoop, nor would there be any reason to mark on the ground where a hoop had fallen at the end of play“5. Ähnliches hatte Landsberger in einem Nachtrag zu seinen Überlegungen allerdings

1. So aber etwa noch von Soden (1986: 107): „Trommel “ und „Trommelstöcke,“ AHw 878 s.v. pukku „eine Trommel“; AHw 642 s.v. me/ikkû „etwa Stampfer, Klöppel“. Hecker (1994: 674): „Trommel “ bzw. 739: „Trommel“ und „Schlegel“; Alster (1997, 2: 387) ad SP 3.95 für g^ ise l l a g „drumstick(?)“. 2. Landsberger (1960: 124–26). Bei Edzard (1993–1997: 34b) ist das Zitat fehlerhaft. 3. CAD M2 (1977), 7, s.v. mekkû A, „driving stick (for a hoop)“. Parpola (1997: 132 s.v. mekkû, „driving stick“; 136 s.v. pukku „hoop“). Katz (2003: 77, 89): „hoop“ für g^ ise l l a g und „stick“ für g^ isE.KID - m a. Zuweilen wird diese Interpretation auch einfach „verdreht“ und pukku als „Stock“ bzw. mikkû als „Reifen“ aufgefaßt. Siehe etwa Bottéro (1992: 206): „baguette“ (für pukku!) und „cerceau“ (für mikkû!). Foster (2001: 5) „game stick“ (für pukku!). 4. Jacobsen (1990: 234 Anm. 7). Daß g^ ise l l a g „kidney-shaped“ gewesen sein soll, beruht jedoch auf einem Mißverständnis Jacobsens, wie Klein (2002: 192 Anm. 21) gezeigt hat; akkadisch kalÿtu, Niere, wird nämlich stets mit e l l a g^ 2 (= BIR) und nie mit e l l a g (= LAGAB) geglichen. 5. Jacobsen (1990: 234 Anm. 7) unter Bezug auf „Gilgamesch, Enkidu und die Unterwelt“ Z. 161, wo von jener Markierung die Rede ist, an der am Vorabend das Spiel beendet und am nächsten Tag wieder aufgenommen wird. Vgl. dazu unten.

15

JCS 60 (2008)

16

ROBERT ROLLINGER

bereits 1961 vermutet, wobei er in g^ ise l l a g/pukku einen runden Ball und keinen ˘achen Puck sah: „Vielleicht spielten die Sumerer anstelle des Reifenspiels eine Art Polo oder Croquet mit Holzkugeln“6. Die Deutung als „Schläger“ und „Ball“ erfreute sich jedenfalls größter Beliebtheit, wobei in neueren Arbeiten vor allem „mallet“ und „ball“ als Lösung vorgeschlagen werden7. Nur gelegentlich wurden noch alternative Lösungsvorschläge präsentiert. 1968 schlug Marius Schneider eine Gleichung pukku = Trommel, mikkû = Harfe vor (Schneider 1968: besonders 280–81). Seine Ausführungen sind insofern von Bedeutung, weil er erstmals die wichtige Beobachtung festhielt, „daß die altmesopotamischen Ritualtrommeln niemals mit einem Stock, sondern nur mit der Hand geschlagen wurden“ (Schneider 1968: 262), was nicht nur die Bedeutung „Trommel-Schlagstock“ für mikkû, sondern eigentlich auch Trommel für pukku als Lösungsvorschlag disquali˜zierte. Schneiders Kritik wurde später in ähnlicher Form auch von Marcelle Duchesne-Guillemin vorgebracht8. Doch kam sie zu einem anderen Ergebnis. Ihrer Ansicht nach repräsentiere pukku „a musical rasp, a scraper, a knobby idiophone rubbed with a plectrum,“ wohingegen mikkû den dazugehörigen „stick“ bezeichne (Duschesne-Guillemin 1983: 152). Diese Interpretation wurde von Brigitte Groneberg aufgegriên, die in pukku und mikkû ein „gebogenes Instrument“ erkennen wollte, das in den Ritualen des Istarkultes eine Rolle gespielt habe9. Die Lexika spiegeln diese Diskussion in unterschiedlichen Facetten wider. 1977 verbuchte CAD s.v. mikkû eine Grundbedeutung „driving stick (for a hoop)“ und verwies auf Landsbergers Arbeit aus dem Jahre 1960. Daß dieser aber bereits im Jahr darauf seinen Standpunkt geändert hatte, fand keine Berücksichtigung10. 2005 wurde pukku jedoch vorsichtig als „a ball?“ gedeutet11. Das Pennsylvania Sumerian Dictionary präsentiert einen analogen Lösungsvorschlag: g^ ise l l a g = „ball,“ bzw. Gfl I†.E.KID.MA ( g^ ise - k i d - m a) / Gfl I†.E.AK.MA ( g^ ise - k i d3 - m a) = „mallet“12. Auch das Akkadische Handwörterbuch ignorierte Landsbergers Korrektur und gab 1972 für mikkû eine Grundbedeutung „Stampfer,

6. Landsberger (1961: 23). Siehe auch Tigay (1982: 190), Klein (2002: 192), Cooper (2002: 78). 7. Tournay und Shaêr (1994: 47 Anm. X): „Une balle et un maillet à long manche,“ bzw. ebenda, 254–57 mit Anm. m: „boule“ ( g^ ise l l a g) und „maillet “ ( g^ isE.KID - m a). Geller (2000: 48): „ball“ und „mallet“. Klein (2002: 195) „ball“ und „mallet“ bzw. 198: „ball “ und „mallet “. Analog George (2003, 2: 899–90), der allerdings in der Übertragung g^ isE.KID - m a unübersetzt läßt. Neutraler Frayne (bei Foster 2001: 130): „ball“ und „stick“. Ebenso Cooper (2002: 79) „ball,“ und „stick“. Maul (2005: 156 ad I, 64–66) gibt pukku „behelfsmäßig“ mit „Spielball “ wieder und hält dazu aber einschränkend fest: „Leider konnte bislang nicht endgültig geklärt werden, was ein pukku ist. Das aus Holz gefertigte Objekt scheint gemeinsam mit einem Stock als Spielgerät (Ball und Schläger?; Kreisel und Peitsche?; Reif und Peitsche? o.ä.) oder als musikalisches Schlaginstrument verwendet worden zu sein“. Auch Cooper (1978: 127) übersetzte g^ ise l l a g bereits als „wooden ball“. Analog auch Draˆkorn Kilmer (1982: 129–30): „ . . . the rough sport of pukku and mekku, using a large, solid wood ball and a long stick (like hockey stick or type of mallet, having the same general shape as a long-handled axe with blade). . . .“ Nicht festlegen wollte sich Tigay (1982: 190): „pukku and mikkû . . . playthings, the former round and rollable like a hoop, ball or puck, and the latter a stick“. Weniger konkret blieb Edzard (1993– 1997: 34b): „Da sich die Handhabung von (sum.) p.(ukku) und m.(ikkû) auf Straßen und (˘achen) Dächern (?) abspielt (sila ur3ra, Gilgames, Enkidu und die Unterwelt 151–52), wird man in der Tat am ehesten an ein Spiel mit Reifen, Bällen oder Kugeln denken“. Attinger (1993: 486) bezeichnete die Interpretation Landsbergers zu g^ ise l l a g „la plus probable“. ETCSL läßt beide Termini unübersetzt. 8. Duschesne-Guillemin (1983). Siehe besonders ebenda, 151, wo zur damals geläu˜gen Interpretation „drumstick“ für mikkû festgehalten wird: „This we must stop to consider for a while, since this implement, the drumstick, is not attested in ancient Mesopotamia . . . The drumstick, which probably originated in Central Asia and is attested in ancient India, notably on Bharhut reliefs of the 2nd century B.C., only reached the West very late: it can be seen for the ˜rst time on a Roman sarcophagus of the 3rd century A.D. in the Termini Museum, Rome“. Vgl. dazu jetzt auch Lawergren (1996: 159–62), der aber ebenda, 163 Duschesne-Guillemins These in pukku ein „gebogenes Schrapidiophon“ und in mikkû einen „Schrapstock“ zu sehen, eher abzulehnen scheint. 9. Groneberg (1987: 121–23). Den Istarkult als Hintergrund erwägt auch Klein (2002: 193). 10. CAD M2 7b s.v. mikkû. 11. CAD P 502 s.v. pukku. Die dort angeführten Übersetzungen bieten „ball“ ohne Fragezeichen; für mikkû wird eine englische Wiedergabe konsequent vermieden. 12. http://psd.museum.upenn.edu/epsd/nepsd-frame.html (2. April 2006). Ebenda wird pukku aber als „a wooden ring or ball?“ und mikkû als „a reed sieve; drumstick, hoop stick; harness part; a tool“ klassi˜ziert.

TUM-BA U5-A IN „GILGAMESCH, ENKIDU UND DIE UNTERWELT“

17

Klöppel,“ konkret „Trommelstock“ an13; für pukku wurde die Gleichung „Trommel“ notiert14. Das sich sonst generell an CAD orientierende und im Jahr 2000 in zweiter Au˘age erschienene Concise Dictionary of Akkadian hatte für mikkû „drumstick or stick (for a hoop)“15 und für pukku „a wooden ring or ball?“16. Trotz dieser Unterschiede und Divergenzen scheint sich in jüngster Zeit die Deutung „Schläger“ und „Ball“ bzw. „mallet“ und „ball“ allgemein durchzusetzen. Tatsächlich erweist sich diese Interpretation beim derzeitigen Kenntnisstand am plausibelsten. Dafür sprechen nicht nur die Belege in „Gilgamesch, Enkidu und die Unterwelt,“ sondern auch die wenigen anderen Textzeugnisse, in denen die Termini g^ is e l l a g/pukku und g^ isE.KID - m a/mikkû überliefert sind17. Ist so einigermaßen klar, daß g^ ise l l a g/pukku und g^ isE.KID - m a/mikkû in den weiten Bereich eines Stockballspieles gehören und „Gilgamesch, Enkidu und die Unterwelt“ gleichzeitig das älteste Zeugnis für eine solche Sportart darstellt18, so herrschen über den genauen Spielablauf nach wie vor einige Unklarheiten. Eine Schlüsselstellung kommt in diesem Zusammenhang den Zeilen 153–155 von „Gilgamesch, Enkidu und die Unterwelt“ zu, die allerdings beträchtliche Interpretationsschwierigkeiten bereiten. So rekonstruierte ETCSL (c.1.8.1.4) folgenden Komposittext19: 153. {(mss. from Urim add 1 line:) g^ urus iri-na-ka g^ isellag al dug4-dug4-ga-ne} 154. e-ne erin2 dumu nu-mu-un-su-a-ke4-ne TUM-ba u5-a 155. a gu2-g^ u10 a ib2-ba-g^ u10 a-nir im-g^ a2-g^ a2-ne Dazu wurde folgende Übersetzung geboten20: 153. {(mss. from Urim add:) The young men of his city were playing ellag.} 154. For (?) him who made the team of the widows’ children . . . . . . , 155. they lamented: „O my neck! O my hips!“ Wie dies schon Aaron Schaêr getan hatte (Schaêr 1965: 106), ließ man die Wendung TUM - b a u5 - a (Z. 154/161) unübersetzt. Einen bedeutenden Schritt weiter im Textverständnis führten jedoch die von Jacob Klein angestellten Überlegungen21. Er machte darauf aufmerksam, daß der mit TUM - b a u5 - a bezeichnete Vorgang mit den Z. 155 genannten Beschwerden an Nacken (g u2) und Hüfte (i b2) in Zusammenhang stehen müsse und schlug eine Lesung i b2 für TUM vor. Verbindet man diesen Gedanken mit der Grundbedeutung von u5 = rakabum, „reiten“, ergibt sich die von Klein vorgeschlagene Deutung „riding on the backs (lit. hips),“ wobei er die betreênden Zeilen folgendermaßen übersetzte22: 13. AHw 642b s.v. me/ikkûm. 14. AHw 878a s.v. pukkum. 15. CDA 207a s.v. mekkûm 2. 16. CDA 278a s.v. pukkum. 17. Siehe dazu ausführlich Rollinger (2006). 18. Damit wird die von Henderson (1947) vertretene These, wonach alle Stockball- und Ballspiele aus dem Alten Ägypten stammten, obsolet. Für den Einsatz von Schläger und Ball reichen die ägyptischen Belege nicht über das Neue Reich hinaus. Siehe dazu Decker—Herb (1994: 132–37; „Das Schlagen des Balles“). Decker (2006: 63–65). 19. Die Zeilenzählung richtet sich nach der von Ahlena Gadotti neu zusammengestellten Partitur (siehe unten). Bei ETCSL entspricht dies den Zeilen 152A–154. 20. Die Übersetzung von ETCSL ñdet sich auch in gedruckter Form bei Black—Cunningham—Robson—Zólyomi (2004: 35–36). 21. Klein (2002: 194–95) mit der Zeilenzählung von ETCSL. 22. Klein (2002: 194–95, 198). Ohne dies näher zu begründen, bot Cooper (2002: 79) im selben Band eine ähnliche Interpretation der betreênden Z. 154–55 (Z. 153 ließ er unberücksichtigt): „He was mounted on the hips of a group of widow’s sons. / „Alas my neck! Alas my hips! ‘ they lament“. Allerdings sah er im „Reiten“ (u5) eine homoerotische Anspielung, worin er einen wesentlichen Aspekt von „Gilgamesh’s oppression of Uruk’s males“ erkennen wollte (ebenda, 80).

18

ROBERT ROLLINGER

153. The young men of his city, who were playing with the ball 154. —Since he (= Gilgames) was riding on the backs (lit. hips) of a group of widow’s sons— 155. Lament: „Oh, my neck, oh, my back (lit. hip)!“ Die Interpretation Kleins fand auch Berücksichtigung bei der inzwischen von Alhena Gadotti neu vorgelegten synoptischen Zusammenstellung aller greifbaren Textzeugnisse. Sie bietet folgende Partitur der fraglichen Zeilen, die ich hier mit ihrer freundlichen Erlaubnis wiedergebe: 153. N1 N9 N23 Ur2 Ur3 154.

gurus uru-na-ka OMITS OMITS OMITS + + + + + . o o

e-ne N1 + + N9 + + N23 o o Ur2 + + Ur3 + . Ur11 o o

155. N1 N9 N23 Ur2 Ur3 U11

a + + o + + o

eren2 + . + + o o

gu2-g^ u10 o o + o + + + + + o . +

g^ is.ellag

+ o

dumu + o + + o o a + o + + o +

+ o

al-dug4-dug4-ga-ne

+ o

+ o

+ o

+ + o o e

nu-mu-un-kus-a-ka ib2-ba + + + + + + i + o o o o o o o o + + + o +ke4 ne i x o + + + + + ni + + o o o o o o o o o o o + + ni ab -

u5-a ++ o o o o ++ o o + o

ib2-ba-g^ u10 a-nir im-g^ a2-g^ a2-ne + + + + + + o + + o o o o o o o o o + - + + + + + + + . o + + + ni + + + + o o o o o ri/o o o + . - g^ a2 er2 + + + .

Zum Verständnis der fraglichen Zeilen bot Klein folgenden Kommentar: „The only one who had the privilege of playing the game while mounted was the king, Gilgames. However, instead of riding on a horse or on a donkey, Gilgames seems to have been mounted on the backs of his subjects, one at a time, while playing the tiring game. We may further assume that Gilgames did this by pressing his feet around the hips (i b2) of the human „horse“, holding on to his neck (g u2) by his left hand while his right hand was striking the ball with the mallet. Thus he never grew tired and was able to play from sunrise to sunset without stop. But alas, the human horses, the poor orphans, became extremely tired, if they actually did not pass out; they constantly complained: „Oh, my neck, oh my back!“ (line 155). The tyrannical Gilgames paid no heed to their complaints, and he did not give them a rest all day long, so that the mothers and the sisters of these orphans had to provide them with food and drink on the playground (lines 156–57)“ (Klein 2002: 194–95). Diese Interpretation wurde auch von Jerrold S. Cooper geteilt: „The di¯cult line 154 seems to say, with Shaêr, that Gilgamesh was forcing the widow’s sons—precisely the social group he, as king, was obliged to protect—to serve as his polo ponies, riding them piggy-back until they cried out in pain (155)“23.

23. Cooper (2002: 79), der darüber hinaus die „potential violence of the Mesopotamian ballgame“ hervorhob, das er mit den mesoamerikanischen Ballspielen vergleichen möchte: „bloody and even fatal“.

One Line Long


19

Sie wurde inzwischen auch von Andrew George in seinem opus magnum übernommen, der die betreênden Zeilen ganz ähnlich wie Klein und Cooper übersetzte24. Dazu hielt George fest: „The reason for the young men’s discomfort and their womenfolk’s outcry is that the youths of Uruk have to carry the giant Gilgames as he wields his huge mallet and great wooden ball“ (George 2003, 2: 900). Dies ist eine nicht unattraktive Deutung25. Sie setzt allerdings voraus, daß der Umgang mit g^ ise l l a g (und g^ isE.KID - m a) generell Huckepack erfolgte—Cooper spricht gar von menschlichen „polo ponies“— und Gilgamesch wegen seiner übermenschlichen Körpermaße seine Mitspieler mehr als nur ins Schwitzen brachte26. Hier ergeben sich jedoch ernsthafte Bedenken, was den logischen Spielablauf betriˆt, zumal wenn man—wie das Klein und George tun und was einiges für sich hat—g^ ise l l a g (und gis E.KID - m a) im Kontext eines Stockballspieles interpretiert und man annimmt, daß die Dichtung ein zu dieser Zeit praktiziertes Spiel in epischem Gewand widerspiegelt. Wieso sollte man ein solches Spiel Huckepack betreiben? Ein solches Spielgebaren wäre völlig widersinnig27. Dadurch wird nämlich nicht nur ein sportlich attraktiver Bewegungsablauf behindert, sondern auch ein ˘üssiger Spielverlauf völlig unterbunden! Es mag aus diesen Gründen nicht überraschen, daß die vergleichende Sportgeschichte—soweit ich dies überschaue—auch keine analogen Beispiele eines Stockballspiels bezeugt, das Huckepack (oder im Hüftsitz) gespielt wird28. Ist deshalb die Interpretation von TUM - b a u5 - a als „riding on the backs (lit. hips)“ zu verwerfen? Keineswegs, denn auch in diesem Fall bietet die vergleichende Sportgeschichte interessantes Anschauungsmaterial, das auch im vorliegenden Fall weiterhelfen kann. So ist uns in Griechenland ein Ballspiel namens ourania bezeugt, das den Weg in Richtung einer sinnvollen Lösung weist. Dabei kam es zu einer besonderen Art der Siegerkür, bei der sowohl der Sieger als auch der Verlierer klar markiert wurden. Ersterer wurde mit dem Titel eines „Königs“ (basileus) bedacht, wohingegen letzterer als „Esel“ (onos) bezeichnet wurde. Doch reichte dies allein nicht aus, um das Spielergebnis öêntlichkeitswirksam zu präsentieren. Dies geschah erst dadurch, daß der Verlierer dem Sieger zu Diensten sein mußte, was unter anderem dadurch demonstriert wurde, daß ersterer letzteren auf seine Schultern zu nehmen hatte29. Legen wir diesen Vergleich auf „Gilgamesch, Enkidu und die Unterwelt“ um, gewinnen wir eine sowohl sprachlich als auch inhaltlich sinnvolle und befriedigende Interpretation der Z. 154:

24. George (2003, 2: 899): „The young men of his city were playing with the ball, / With him riding piggyback (lit. on the hips) (among) a band of widows’ sons. / ‚O my neck! O my hips!‘ they kept groaning“. 25. Demgegenüber wird die Übersetzung von Frayne (bei Foster 2001: 134) dem Text nicht gerecht („The young men of the city who were playing with the ball, / rode piggypack on a team of orphans“). Denn wie das e - n e am Beginn von Z. 154 verrät, können die g^ u r u s u r u - n a - k a schwerlich Subjekt des Satzes sein. Es „reitet“ nicht ein Team, sondern eben nur einer. 26. So jetzt auch Keetman (2007: 7): „Menschen-Polo“. 27. Keetman (2007: 5) spricht pointiert von einem „absurden Polospiel“. Keetman kann diese „absurden Schilderungen“ (ebenda, 16) aber nicht befriedigend au˘ösen, denn die immer wieder angedeutete „Lösung“ einer literarischen Verzerrung realer Zustände greift eben deshalb nicht, weil das Ganze tatsächlich „absurd“ wäre. Für die Begreifbarkeit der Szene durch die Leser und/oder Hörer gilt in diesem Zusammenhang nämlich das gleiche, was Keetman (2007: 9) für die nachfolgende Unterweltsschilderung explizit festhält: „Um glaubwürdig zu sein, mußte der Bericht sicher an Vorstellungen von der Unterwelt anknüpfen, die auch unabhängig von GEU existierten und tut dies auch“. Siehe auch unten Anm. 38. 28. Ballspiele—ohne Stock—sind allerdings sehr wohl Huckepack durchgeführt worden, wobei die aufsitzende Person—wohl ähnlich wie in Gilgamesch, Enkidu und die Unterwelt sowohl im Nacken als auch auf dem Rücken sitzen kann. Vgl. etwa die bei Olivová (1984: 100–101 = Yalouris 1977: 256 Abb. 150) abgebildete Darstellung auf einer schwarz˜gurigen Amphora aus Athen (um 540 v. Chr.), wo die auf den Schultern sitzenden Knaben oênkundig versuchen, den Ball zu fangen (Mender 1956: 86). Ähnliches ñdet sich bei Mender 1956, Tafel XVc. Vgl. auch Weiler (1988: 210) zum Ephedrismos genannten Ballspiel („eine Art Huckepackspiel mit Bällen“). Dazu auch Hurschmann 1997b. Solche „Reiterballspiele“ sind in erster Linie für Knaben bezeugt. Mender 1956 verbucht sie neben dem antiken Griechenland (86–88) für Sumatra, Burma (25), Sibirien (67) und das alte Ägypten (45 mit Tafel VI; dazu grundlegend Decker und Herb 1994: 619 mit Tafel CCCXXXIX. Siehe jetzt auch Decker 2006: 63–65). Zum Hockeyspiel in der klassischen Antike siehe Wagner 1959. Weiler (1988: 212–13). 29. Hurschmann (1997a: 427). Siehe dazu detailliert Mender (1956: 32, 86, 89 mit Anm. 184). Hurschmann (1997b) verzeichnet diesen Usus für das Ephedrismos genannte Ballspiel.

20

ROBERT ROLLINGER

154. Er ritt (andauernd) Huckepack in bezug auf das Team der Witwensöhne. Das gleiche gilt für Z. 161 (nach der Partitur von Alhena Gadotti): 161. N1 N13 N43 Ur2 Ur3 Ur11

a2 gu2 o o MI# o MI o + + OMITS o o

N1 N13 N43 Ur2 Ur3 Ur11 g^ is.ellag a ni

zi-ga-ta o da + o o o o o o + + +

ki + o o +

g^ is.hur + + o o o o + +

o o +

zi

zi o

in-hur-ra + + ri o o o o o o + + + ni o

o o/

ib2-ba u5-a + - + + o o o o o o o o + + + + OMITS ab - + o

161. Am Morgen—dort, wo er die Markierung gemacht hatte—ritt er (wieder) Huckepack. Die „Markierung“ (g^ i s - h u r) hatte Gilgamesch am Ende des ersten Spieltages genau dort angebracht, wo der Ball ( g^ ise l l a g) nach Beendigung des Spiels zum Liegen gekommen war (Z. 159). Genau dort wird am nächsten Tag das Spiel fortgesetzt, wie uns Z. 161 verrät. Der Ort beñdet sich im Bereich von s i l a u r3 - r a, was Z. 151–152 deutlich macht. Damit ist wohl nicht die Straße und das (˘ache) Dach gemeint30, sondern wie die Glosse i-na ri-bi-tim zeigt31, ein größerer Platz angesprochen32. Überhaupt bereiten die Z. 151–152 das nicht enden wollende Triumphgebaren des Gilgamesch unmittelbar vor (wiederum nach der Partitur von Alhena Gadotti):

N1 N9 N23 Ur2 Ur3

g^ is.ellag + + + + o . + + + +

N1 N9 N23 Ur2 Ur3

na-mu-un-e + + o o o o o o + + +! + + + + e3 + + + e3 de3

151.

al + . + + in

dug4-dug4-ge o o o . . . + + + + + + su su e

30. So Edzard (1993–1997: 34b). 31. Siehe Schaêr (1965: 144 ad 151). 32. AHw 964b s.v. rebÿtum.

One Line Short

sila o . + + +

ur3-ra o + . ./ + + + + + +/

g^ is.ellag + o . . + + + + + +

TUM-BA U5-A IN „GILGAMESCH, ENKIDU UND DIE UNTERWELT“ 152.

ni2 N1 + N9 + N23 o Ur2 KA Ur3 ME N1 N9 N23 Ur2 Ur3

silim ki + o DI KU†

dug4-dug4-ge + + + + o o + + + + + + in su su e

sila + o +! + o

ur3-ra + + o o + + + + o +/

21

ni2 silim + o o o + + KA DI g^ is.ellag

na-mu-un-e + + + + o o o o + + + + + + + e3 + + o e3 de3

151. Er, der ohne Unterlaß einen g^ ise l l a g verlangte, spielte g^ ise l l a g auf dem großen Platz. 152. Er, der nicht aufhörte, sich zu preisen, pries sich auf dem großen Platz33. Wesentlich ist dabei der in Z. 153 erstmals angedeutete Sachverhalt, daß sich der Umgang mit e l l a g (und g^ isE.KID - m a) nicht auf Gilgamesch allein beschränkt. Es sind die Jungmänner (g u r u s) seiner Stadt, die mit ihm spielen34. Wir haben es also mit einem Mannschaftsspiel zu tun, wobei ein solches „Team“ wohl als e r i n2 bezeichnet wird (Z. 154)35. Gleichzeitig wird auch die gegnerische Mannschaft genannt. Es sind die Söhne der Witwen (d u m u n u - m u - u n - k u s - a - k e4 - n e), gegen die Gilgamesch und seine Jungmänner antreten (Z. 154)36. Z. 161 berichtet allerdings nicht nur von der Fortsetzung des Spiels am nächsten Spieltag, sondern weist gleichzeitig auf den wesentlichen Aspekt dieses Spiels hin: den andauernden Sieg und Triumph des Gilgamesch am Ort des Spielgeschehens— ein Verhalten, das schließlich die völlige Bedrückung der Stadtbewohner zur Folge hat37. Folgt man der hier vorgeschlagenen Interpretation, hätte der Dichter das Spielgeschehen selbst, dessen Verlauf wohl sowieso jedem Zuhörer klar war, nur äußerst verkürzt wiedergegeben. Das Augenmerk ist vielmehr auf den Ausgang des Spiels gelenkt. Gilgamesch träte als permanenter und ständiger Sieger hervor, den die unterlegene Partei—als Spielführer des Siegers?—immer und immer wieder „aufsitzen“ lassen muß. Das Huckepack-Reiten wäre in diesem Fall als Siegesgestus zu interpretieren, von dem Gilgamesch nicht genug bekommen kann und was—gemeinsam mit dem nicht enden wollenden Spiel—zur totalen Erschöpfung der unterlegenen Partei, aber eben nicht nur dieser, sondern der gesamten Einwohnerschaft von Uruk führt38. g^ is

33. Zum hapax g^ ise l l a g e(3) siehe Attinger (1993: 486, bzw. 676). 34. Zu g u r u s in sportlichen Kontexten im Sinne von „Athlet“ siehe Rollinger (1994: 40). 35. Daß die in Z. 153 genannten g u r u s in Z. 154 kollektiv als e r i n2 erscheinen, mag den Umstand erklären, warum Z. 153 nur in den Manuskripten aus Ur, nicht aber in jenen aus Nippur erscheint: Sie war für das Verständnis des Gesamtzusammenhangs nicht unbedingt vonnöten. 36. Dazu auch Keetman (2007: 25). 37. Dazu ausführlich Klein (2002). 38. Die von Keetman (2007) vorgelegte—und im großen und ganzen durchaus überzeugende—Gesamtdeutung des Werkes als eine kritische Auseinandersetzung mit dem Phänomen königlicher Grenzüberschreitung und Maßlosigkeit verliert dadurch nicht im geringsten an Gewicht; im Gegenteil: Erst durch die Zeichnung einer realen Spielpraxis, die jedoch sowohl im extremen Ausleben des Triumphes als auch in ihrer zeitlich übersteigerten Spieldauer in deutlich verzerrter, aber keineswegs „absurder“ Form dargestellt wird (vgl. oben Anm. 27), erhält die Kritik—für jedermann verständlich—entsprechende Substanz.

22

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Referenzen Alster, B. 1977 Proverbs of Ancient Sumer: The World’s Earliest Proverb Collections, 2 Volumes. Bethesda, MD: CDL. Attinger, A. 1993 Eléments de linguistique sumérienne: La construction de du11/e/di “dire”. Orbis Biblicus et Orientalis Sonderband. Fribourg: Editions universitaires; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht. Black, J.; Cunningham, G.; Robson, E.; and Zólyomi, G. 2004 The Literature of Ancient Sumer. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Bottéro, J. 1992 L’Épopée de Gilgames. Le grand homme qui ne voulait pas mourir. Paris: Gallimard. Cooper, J. S. 1978 The Return of Ninurta to Nippur. AnOr 52. Rome: Ponti˜cium Institutum Biblicum. 2002 Buddies in Babylonia: Gilgamesh, Enkidu, and Mesopotamian Homosexuality. Pp. 73–85 in Riches Hidden in Secret Places: Ancient Near Eastern Studies in Memory of Thorkild Jacobsen, ed. T. Abusch. Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2002. Decker, W. 2006 Pharao und Sport. Mainz: von Zabern. Decker, W., und Herb, M. 1994 Bildatlas zum Sport im alten Ägypten: Corpus der bildlichen Quellen zu Leibesübungen, Spiel, Jagd, Tanz und verwandten Themen. HdO 1/14. Leiden: Brill. Duchesne-Guillemin, M. 1983 Pukku and Mekkû. Iraq 45: 151–56. Edzard, D. O. 1993– mekkû, pukku. RlA 8: 34. 1997 Foster, B. R. 2001 The Epic of Gilgamesh: A New Translation. New York: Norton. Geller, M. J. 2000 The Landscape of the „Netherworld“. Pp. 41–49 in Landscapes. Territories, Frontiers and Horizons in the Ancient Near East. Part III: Landscape in Ideology, Religion, Literature and Art, eds. L. Milano, S. de Martino, F. M. Fales, und G. B. Lanfranchi. HANE / M III/3 = CRRAI XLIV. Padua: S.A.R.G.O.N. George, A. R. 2003 The Babylonian Gilgamesh Epic: Introduction, Critical Edition and Cuneiform Texts. 2 Vols. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Groneberg, B. 1987 Tilpanu = Bogen. RA 81: 115–24. Hecker, K. 1994 Das akkadische Gilgamesch-Epos. Pp. 646–744 in Texte aus der Umwelt des Alten Testaments III/4, ed. O. Kaiser. Gütersloh: Gütersloher Verlagshaus. Henderson, R. W. 1947 Ball, Bat and Bishop: The Origin of Ball Games. New York: Rockport Press. Repr., Urbana, IL: University of Illinois Press, 2001. Hurschmann, R. 1997a Ballspiele. Der Neue Pauly 2: 426–27. 1997b Ephedrismos. Der Neue Pauly 3: 1076. Jacobsen, Th. 1976 The Treasures Of Darkness. A History of Mesopotamian Religion. New Haven: Yale University Press. 1990 The Gilgamesh Epic: Romantic and Tragic Vision. Pp. 231–49 in Lingering over Words: Studies in Ancient Near Eastern Literature in Honor of William L. Moran, ed. T. Abusch. HSS 37. Atlanta: Scholars Press. Katz, D. 2003 The Image of the Netherworld in the Sumerian Sources. Bethesda, MD: CDL. Keetman, J. 2007 König Gilgames reitet auf seinen Untertanen: Gilgames, Enkidu und die Unterwelt politisch gelesen. BiOr 64: 5–31.


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Kilmer, A. D. 1982 A Note on an Word-Play in the Akkadian Gilgamesh. Pp. 128–32 in Zikir †umim. Assyriological Studies Presented to F. R. Kraus on the Occasion of his Seventieth Birthday, eds. G. van Driel, Th. J. H. Krispijn, M. Stol, and K. R. Veenhof. Leiden: Brill. Klein, K. 2002 A New Look at the „Oppression of Uruk“ Episode in the Gilgames Epic. Pp. 187–201 in Riches Hidden in Secret Places: Ancient Near Eastern Studies in Memory of Thorkild Jacobsen, ed. T. Abusch. Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns. Landsberger, B. 1960 Einige unerkannt gebliebene oder verkannte Nomina des Akkadischen. WZKM 56: 109–29. 1961 Einige unerkannt gebliebene oder verkannte Nomina des Akkadischen (Fortsetzung), WZKM 57: 1–23. Lawergren, B. 1996 Mesopotamien. III. Musikinstrumente. Die Musik in Geschichte und Gegenwart 6: 143–71. Maul, S. M. 2005 Das Gilgamesch-Epos. Neu übersetzt und kommentiert. München: Beck. Mendner, S. 1956 Das Ballspiel im Leben der Völker. Münster: Aschendorˆ. Olivová, V. 1984 Sports and Games in the Ancient World. London: Artia. Parpola, S. 1997 The Standard Babylonian Epic of Gilgamesh. SAACT 1. Helsinki: Helsinki University Press. Ranoszek, R. 1934 Rezension zu „Das Gilgamesch-Epos. Neu übersetzt und mit Anmerkungen versehen von Albert Schott“. ZDMG 13: 209–11. Rollinger, R. 1994 Aspekte des Sports im Alten Sumer. Sportliche Betätigung und Herrschaftsideologie im Wechselspiel. Nikephoros 7: 7–64. 2006 Gilgamesch als „Sportler,“ oder: pukku und mikkû als Sportgeräte des Helden von Uruk. Nikephoros 19: 9–44. Schneider, M. 1968 Pukku und Mikku. Ein Beitrag zum Aufbau und zum System der Zahlenmystik des Gilgamesch-Epos. Antaios 9: 262–83. Shaêr, A. 1963 Sumerian Sources of Tablet XII of the Epic of Gilgames. Ph.D. dissertation: University of Pennsylvania. von Soden, W. (Hg.) 1986 Das Gilgamesch-Epos. Übersetzt und mit Anmerkungen versehen von Albert Schott. Stuttgart: Reclam. Tigay, J. H. 1982 The Evolution of the Gilgamesh Epic. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press. Tournay, R. J., und Shaêr, A. 1994 L’Épopée de Gilgamesh. Introduction, Traduction et Notes. Paris: Edition du Cerf. Wagner, E. 1959 Hockeyspiel im Altertum. Philologus 103: 137–40. Weiler, I. 1988 Der Sport bei den Völkern der Alten Welt. 2nd ed. Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft. Yalouris, N. G. 1977 Athletics in Ancient Greece. Ancient Olympia and the Olympic Games. Athens.

KURIGALZU’S STATUE INSCRIPTION Niek Veldhuis (University of California, Berkeley)

During excavations at Dur-Kurigalzu (çAqar-Quf) in the 1940s the Iraqi team recovered several fragments of an inscribed diorite statue of King Kurigalzu. The inscription is by far the longest Kassite period Sumerian text, and it is therefore our prime example of what Kassite Sumerian looks like. The present article provides a new edition and translation of the text, focusing on its usage of rare Sumerian words and expressions that are known from the lexical tradition.1 1. Introduction The Kurigalzu statue was apparently destroyed in antiquity; the fragments were dispersed over several rooms of the Eåugal temple. During the 1943 season, several pieces were recovered in room 25 and one in room 11 (Baqir 1944: 13). An additional fragment (Fragment B) was discovered in the second season in the palace on Mound A (Baqir 1945: 13), at some distance from the ñd spot of the other pieces. Fragment B shares many characteristics with the earlier ñds, including the style of writing and the unusual distribution of words over several cases of text. There is no ñal proof, however, that the pieces found in the Eåugal and the one from Mound A belong together, and therefore we may be dealing with more than one statue.2 One fragment (˜g. 1), preserving part of the toes (Baqir 1944: ˜g. 20), indicates the original size of the object, which must have been more than life-size. By contrast, the preserved fragments are relatively small, and we have no idea how much of the text is missing. In addition, we do not know how the text fragments relate to one another. The Eåugal was the main temple of Enlil in Dur-Kurigalzu. The Eåugal complex included separate temples dedicated to Ninurta and Ninlil (Baqir 1944); in the present text Enlil and Ninlil always operate as the joint inhabitants of Eåugal. According to Clayden (1996), the Kurigalzu who appears speaking in the statue inscription is Kurigalzu I, who reigned in the ˜rst half of the fourteenth century, and who had a very active building program. The text is inscribed in an archaizing monumental script, and mentions many of the traditional gods of the Sumerian pantheon: Enlil and Ninlil, Utu, Nanna (Dilimbabbar), Nininsina, Nergal, and Inana (Ninili). Contents, script, language, and the physical object itself all convey the same message:

1. Alexa Bartelmus (Munich) meticulously read the article and oêred many detailed corrections and improvements, for which I oêr my sincere thanks. 2. According to A. R. George apud Clayden (1996: 116 n. 39), additional fragments of the statue have been copied by F. N. H. Al-Rawi and await publication. As far as I can tell these copies still remain unpublished.

25

JCS 60 (2008)

26

NIEK VELDHUIS

Fig 1. Fragments of the Kurigalzu statue, including the king’s toes. Photograph reproduced from Baqir (1945: ˜g. 20).

Kurigalzu is a traditional Mesopotamian king who ˜ts perfectly in the historical patterns of kingship from time immemorial. Kurigalzu’s scribes knew about the ancient Sumerian gods and largely depicted them in terms that are familiar from Old Babylonian texts. Nanna is described as the one who “lights up the night; who sleeps during the day like a lion; who reveals the signs of the night. . . .” Inana is a goddess responsible for love, cross-dressing, and criminals: . . . putting pleasure into the bedroom they gave to her as her lot. Sweet words between wife and husband, soothing outside and inside, they gave her in her hand. [. . .] Men who like women fasten the robe on the chest with a pin; women who like men fasten it on the heart [. . .]

One Line Long

KURIGALZU’S STATUE INSCRIPTION

27

Those who ˜ght with the dagger; those who are counted as criminals, and those who make evil sweet, to lead them on their ways, they (gave) to the most competent Inana as her lot.

This not only recalls cross-dressing as a well-known aspect of Inana’s cult (most recently discussed by Böck 2004), but also the odd list of m e s assigned to Inana in Inana and Enki (ETCSL 1.3.1), including such matters as lying and rebellion. Nergal is described as the foremost deity of the netherworld. It is likely that the passage that describes u d u g - demons who do not dress properly and do not revere the Eåugal appropriately, belongs to the section about Nergal. All through the text Enlil and Ninlil act as supreme deities. Less traditional, but well known from contemporary sources, is the important role of the Igigi (written dn u n - g a l - e - n e; see Kienast 1965). A passage that is repeated at least four times (the only variable element being the main god’s name) translates as follows: At the Eåugal of heaven, the place of the broad-knowing gods (i.e., Enlil and Ninlil) the Igigi, who cannot be rivaled anywhere—they are kings of praise and holy gods—at the place of Enlil and Ninlil the Igigi, who cannot be rivaled anywhere—they are kings of praise and gods of the true m e s—in their knowing hearts they perform the puri˜cation rites for DN. I am Kurigalzu, the one who made appear the Eåugal wrapped in X, greatness, and praise; I have set up there the old days (to continue) into the future.

The passage illustrates the rather baroque style of the inscription and summarizes its main point, identifying the king who restored the proper rites of a series of Sumerian gods as Kurigalzu, the very king who is standing tall before the reader. The script mimics fairly closely the monumental lapidary style of late-third to early-second millennium inscriptions, including the use of narrow cases. Unfortunately, the inscribed fragments cannot be identi˜ed as speci˜c parts of the king’s body, so that the direction of the script remains unknown. If the object intends to copy Old Babylonian or earlier monuments, it may well have been vertical.3 Unlike early monumental texts, the cases in which the text is written do not coincide with word boundaries. Thus the preserved part of C iii begins as follows: [. . .] d en-lil2 d ninlil2-bi

Unilingual Sumerian texts from the Kassite period are either royal inscriptions or dedication inscriptions by high o¯cials for the life of the king (BE 1 33; and JAOS 88, 194 BM 81-7-1, 3395). Numerous examples of inscribed bricks, door sockets, and votive objects are known from the reigns of Kurigalzu and other Kassite rulers (see Brinkman 1976). Even in its poor state of preservation the present text is by far the longest and most complex Sumerian text of the period. Writing in Sumerian was part of the message: Sumerian is the language of the ancient rulers of the land. The physical object, ñally, is a statue in stone. Slanski (2000) has argued that inscribed stone objects function as monuments, signaling royal authority and perpetuity as well as the power to acquire a precious commodity. The colossal ˜gure of the king certainly helped to bring that message home. Kurigalzu’s larger-than-life statue may have been inspired by Hammurapi’s law code or by other monumental art that was still around and made the presence of ancient rulers felt—until carried away by Elamite invaders. As Slanski points out, the perpetuity of an inscription on stone is related to the perpetuity of one’s name, even after death. Kurigalzu’s preoccupation with the past is to be mirrored to the future, where he, like his predecessors, would be monumentally present.

3. BE 1 33, a cup for votive water with a dedication for the life of King Burnaburias has vertical writing.

28

NIEK VELDHUIS

2. Kassite Sumerian Unlike most Kassite Sumerian texts, the Kurigalzu statue does not follow the well-trodden paths of formulaic dedicatory inscriptions. The challenge for ancient scribes of composing a text in this ancient language is matched by the challenge of deciphering that same text today. To some extent, these two challenges are met by using the same tools: the ancient lexicographical tradition. In many cases we may identify the source for strange and unusual words in lexical sources that were available to Kassite scribes. The present section will describe some of the features of Kassite Sumerian as they appear in the Kurigalzu statue, divided into two sections: vocabulary and orthography. While the present text provides many new data for a description of Kassite-period Sumerian grammar, such an analysis will not be provided here. Instead, a few interesting points will be discussed in the commentary (§4). 2.1 Words: Lexical Sources Several words in the Kurigalzu inscription are exceedingly rare and demonstrate how, in the Kassite period, lexical texts were not only used for scribal education (Veldhuis 2000), but also for composing Sumerian. A lexical composition that is well suited for such a purpose is Nabnitu, a series that was probably composed during the Kassite period. Nabnitu collects Sumerian words and expressions that are associated with the same Akkadian word (or with similar Akkadian words) and may thus have been extremely useful for locating an appropriate Sumerian term for use in an inscription.4 An example is CBS 13924 (Kassite Nippur), a fragment of a multi-column tablet that contained the entire text of Nabnitu 21 (˜g. 2):5

Reverse

Obverse

Upper Edge

Fig. 2. CBS 13924 (Nabnitu 21 source C; Kassite Nippur). Copy by the author. 4. For the format and function of Nabnitu, see the excellent introduction to the series by Irving Finkel in MSL 16. 5. MSL 16 189 C. The text in MSL 16 is a composite, based on several duplicates. Minor diêrences between my edition and the one in MSL are diêrences between composite and exemplar. Online edition at http://cdl.museum.upenn.edu/cgi-bin/ cdlpager?prod=adhoc&input=P227749&project=DCCLT.


kananu sa sipri sa kalbi(UR.GIR15) 2 3 sa serri(MU†) 2 sa ameli(LU2) 2 3 4 5 6 7 kannu sa mê 2 3 4 5 kannu [sa sikari]

to coil — said of an envoy — said of a dog trembling dog(?) curled-up dog — said of a snake

6u. ku-u[n]kun2 7u. hu-udhud 8u. D[I]? 9u. mul-mul 10u. kar2-ka[r2] 11u. mul-[mul] 12u. sag^ mu2-m[u2] 13u. kar2-x 14u. i3-h[ul] 15u. esir-idim

na[batu] [2] [3] [4] ita[nbutu] 2 3 4 naptum 2

to be bright

16u. bar-dag^ al 17u. n[ig^ 2]-zalag-ga 00u. 26

neperdû 2

bright

18u. x x 19u. [. . .]-ªda?º 20u. [. . .]-g^ is 21u. x-[m]a 22u. [pe]-el 23u. barim(P[A.KA]S4) 24u. [g]a-an-ze2-er

napil[um] 2 [nap]alum s[a] GUL 2 3 napal[um] nablum

digger

1. gurum 2. [ur]-gir15 la2 3. [ur] dub2-dub2di-x 4. [u]r gurum-ma 5. mus gu2-gilim dug4-ga 6. mus ki-huhur 7. su gilim 8. sag^ ak-a 9. sag^ ib2-ku-ruªx-akº 10. gum2gu-ra-MIN-gum2 11. dub3 [gurum] 12. dub3 ki [gurum] 13. dub3 k[i] dur g^ [ar] 15. k[a-an-nu]-um 16. [ka-an-nu sag^ ]-g^ a2 17. [g^ isebirx(KA†)] 18. [g^ isebir(DUG)] 19. [g^ isebir gub-ba] 20. [g^ isebirx(KA†)]

29

— said of a human

lame to kneel to kneel to sit down stand for water vessel vessel stand vessel stand upright vessel stand stand for beer vessel

6

reverse (˜rst ˜ve lines traces only)

to shine brightly

naphtha

to dig, as in to destroy

dry land ˘ame

6. This number is a section total (see MSL 16 6), found with some regularity in Kassite multi-column lexical texts (see, for instance, SLT 44 obverse ii 26 and reverse i 2). If there were other section totals on this tablet they are no longer extant.

30

NIEK VELDHUIS

The obverse passage collects various Sumerian expressions that may be rendered kananu (“to curl up”) or kannu (“pot stand”). The reverse contains expressions that translate Akkadian words for “to be bright” (nabatu, itanbutu, and neperdû) as well as several other words that are more or less similar, such as naptum (“naphtha”). Nabnitu 21 may well have been the source of some of the Sumerian words used in the Kurigalzu inscription. Thus k a r2 - k a r2 = itanbutu (rev. 10u; to shine brightly) and the rare expression b a r - d a g^ a l = neperdû (rev. 16u; “bright”),7 both appear in Bb iii to describe the moon god (k a l a m - m a b a r - d a g^ a l - l a s a g^ - g i6 - g a k a r2 - k a r2, “Dilimbabbar . . . shining over the land and lighting up the black-headed people”). Nabnitu 21 may also have provided our scribe with the rare writing sulug(LUL) = nawaru,“to shine” (an alternative writing for z a l a g),8 used in the description of Inana’s bedroom in C x (i t i m a - b i s u l u g - s u l u g - g a). Several of the rare and unusual expressions in Kurigalzu’s inscription may be traced back to other lexical series, as summarized in the following. a s - b a r = woman (D iii). The word a s - b a r is rendered amiltu (“woman”) in Izi E 187 (MSL 13 189); known in exemplars from Nineveh and Assur. Old Babylonian versions do not have an entry a s - b a r. As far as I know the word is not used otherwise. The translation “woman” ˜ts very well this passage that talks about men dressing as women and vice versa. d g a n s i s = darkness (C vii). The word dg a n s i s, written (AN).TA-gunû appears a few times in Old Babylonian lexical texts. In Proto-Izi I 25 one ñds dg a n s i s (TA-gunû), corresponding to [ga]n2-sisg a n s i s = et¿tum in the bilingual version (OB Nippur). The reading g a n s i s is con˜rmed by PEa 537 (but g a a n - z e r3 in Ea IV 225). In later cuneiform g a n s i s is also written TAxMI (Sb Vocabulary 101 and 102). A recently published Kassite exemplar of Diri 7 (Peterson 2007) has g^ a2 - s i s AN.[TA-gunû] (or, perhaps, AN.[TAxMI]). I do not know of any other context attestation of TA-gunû. k i g^ 2 . . . g i4 = to answer through extispicy (A viii). In standard Sumerian k i g^ 2 - g i4 - a means “messenger,” but in the lexical tradition it is also rendered têrtu, “instruction, omen, divination result,” or even am¿tu, “liver” (Izi H; MSL 13 211). Thus s i l a4 k i g^ 2 - g i4 - a means “lamb suitable for extispicy;” an expression known from Ur III texts and Old Babylonian lexical lists (see Heimpel 1993: 131–33). Similarly u z u (n i g^ 2) - k i g^ 2 - g i4 - a is translated as am¿tu or takaltu. The use in the present text of an expression k i g^ 2 . . . g i4, with the apparent meaning “to answer by extispicy,” is an arti˜cial creation, based upon an analysis of the secondary meaning k i g^ 2 - g i4 - a, “omen, extispicy.” The passage in A viii is an example of word play, using g i4 in three diêrent meanings: in the expression k i g^ 2 . . . g i4, and in the meanings “to answer,” and “to establish” (for gi.n). k u - k u = to sleep (A v). The common word for to sleep is u3 . . . k u - k u, frequently found in Sumerian of all periods. The equation k u - k u = salalu is typical for texts such as Ea/Aa and is already found in the Old Babylonian period (Proto-Aa 25:4). In such cases the lexical text is to be interpreted as saying: “k u - k u is used in the expression that equals salalu” (that is, in u3 . . . k u - k u). The use of k u - k u without u3 in connected text indicates that the scribe utilized an entry like the Proto-Aa line quoted above. TU and l a l3 - a - s a g4 - g a (A vi). The words TU and l a l3 - a - s a g4 - g a, preceded in our text by l u k u r and n u - g i g, are exceedingly rare. Moran (1976) collected the references and concluded that both TU and l a l3 - a / e - s a g4 - g a are priestesses connected to the cult of Ninhursag^ /Belet-ilÿ. In the Old Babylonian lexical series Lu (Nippur version line 228) l a l3 - e - s a g4 - g a is found among priests and priestesses, immediately preceded by a - t u.9 In the Kes temple hymn, a composition that goes back all the

7. For b a r - d a g^ a l see Sjöberg (1960: 128); PSD B b a r - d a g a l - l a; and CAD N napardû, lexical section. 8. MSL 16 199:249–50; the passage is not preserved in CBS 13924. 9. The word probably also appears in MSL SS 1:108 obv. 2, 13 [l a l3 - e - s a g4] - g a (Old Babylonian Kis version) and in OECT 4 160 obv. 5, 15 [l a l3] - ªe? s a g4?º - [g] a (collation by Jon Taylor). See the DCCLT edition by Jon Taylor at http://cdl.museum.upenn .edu/cgi-bin/cdlpager?prod=adhoc&input=Q000047&project=DCCLT.


31

way to the Early Dynastic period, the a - t u, TU, and l a l3 - a - s a g4 - g a are mentioned in a single passage (lines 109–11).10 t u g2 k i s i16 - k i s i16 u r3 = teaseled garment. This word appears in Ura 19, 194 (MSL 10 133; and see CAD masaru) and was plausibly reconstructed in l u2 - a z l a g B (MSL 12 177 5–6). The most likely source for the expression in our text is Ura which is frequent among Kassite lexical sources, while l u2 a z l a g2 is attested only in the Old Babylonian period and in Hattusa. The technique of teaseling cloth by means of a thorny bush (k i s i16) was discussed by Oppenheim (1948: 66). I do not know of any other context attestation of the expression. Unlike the Kurigalzu statue, most Sumerian royal inscriptions of the period are very formulaic, but the use of infrequent words, which seem to come straight from the lexical handbooks, is not unique to our text. There are a number of such examples in a Kassite period bilingual published as PBS 1/1 11 (CBS 11341; edited by Westenholz 2005).11 Reverse line 4 reads z a3 - m i2 a d s a a b b u n u n n u(UD.MUD.NUN.NA) “lyre song wailing12 the eclipse” (unfortunately the Akkadian translation is lost). The word abbununnu is otherwise known exclusively from various recensions of Diri. The Ugarit version, approximately contemporary with our text, includes the following entries (Diri Ugarit I, 110–13; MSL 15 71): ab-bu-nun-nu

UD.MUD.NUN.NA.KI13

nirdû bartum antalû ¿mu daåmu

sin rebellion eclipse dark day

Of these renderings, ¿mu daåmu (“dark day”) goes back to the Old Babylonian Nippur version of the list (MSL 15 24:330); the other entries specify or interpret the meaning of the Sumerian term. The scribe of this bilingual apparently copied this word straight from his Diri exemplar. 13 2.2 Writing: Archaisms and Syllabic Spelling The orthography of the Kurigalzu statue inscription displays numerous peculiarities. Some of these are (more-or-less successful) attempts at archaizing, others are syllabic spellings. An example of an orthographic archaism is - m e - e n3 (instead of - m e - e n) for the ˜rst person copula (C iv), using the orthography of certain †ulgi royal hymns (see Klein 2000). Very curious is the use of u s5(U8) for the writing of the plural marker /es/ in /u/-verbs in C ii, viii and ix.14 The reading is con˜rmed by comparison with other verbal forms in this passage: C viii C ix

mu-un-na-an-sum2-mu4-us5 ib2-si-si-is mu-un-na-an-sum2-mu4-us5 mu-un-na-an-du3-us5

10. For this text, see most recently Wilcke (2006). For TU and l a l3 - a - s a g4 - g a see further Sallaberger (2005: 635–36). 11. Westenholz attributes the text to the Old Babylonian period, but this seems very unlikely. The format of the bilingual (Sumerian and Akkadian side by side, rather than interlinear) is typical for the Kassite period. The odd mix of earlier and later sign forms shows that the scribe tried to imitate an earlier script, as did the scribe of the Kurigalzu statue. 12. Syllabic for a d s a4. 13. The sign complex appears as UD.MUD.NUN.NA, UD.MUD.NUN.NA.KI or UD.MUD.NUN.KI. 14. Perhaps also in Ba i 3u–4u, reading m i - i n - [. . . - m] u4? - u s5.

32

NIEK VELDHUIS

All these verbal forms are plurals—as indeed are most verbs in this text. By contrast, A v has the regular writing b a - r a - a n - s u m2 - m u - u s. The concentration of these odd - (m u4) - u s5 forms in two successive columns makes one wonder whether more than one scribe was responsible for the writing on the statue. Whether this writing was meant as an attempt at archaizing remains unclear, but it certainly looks like it. A similar form is a l - n u2 - n u2 - u8 - d u6 - b a (C vi), where u8 and du6 are used syllabically. Examples of syllabic writing are more numerous: s u - h u - u l for s u h u l (A ii; “herd”), [z a] - r a - a h for z a r a h (A vi; “wailing”); z a . . . s a for z a g . . . s a4 (A vii etc.; “to rival”); and s e g a l for e s3 g a l (C x; “great shrine”). Concentrations of syllabic writings are attested in C iii and in C v. In C iii we ñd g^ i s z a l for g^ i z z a l (“wisdom”), NI-NI for NU-NU (“to spin”) and s u - u r2 for s u r (“to twine”) in a single sentence. A few writings seem to indicate that the scribe had sign names in mind rather than the appropriate readings. The dative dn a n n a - i r - r a (A vii) is rather puzzling, and so is the plural m u - n a - s a2 i s (A vii and C iv; but b i2 - i n - s i - s a2 - e s2 in D vi). One wonders whether in some way dn a n n a - i r - r a re˘ects a reading ds e s - k i - i r - r a and m u - n a - s a2 - i s a reading m u - n a - d i - i s. 3. Text and Translation The text was ˜rst published shortly after its discovery by Kramer et al. (1948).15 Notwithstanding its considerable interest, it has been all but ignored for more than half a century. Kramer acknowledged that much of his reading and translation was preliminary due to the fragmentary nature of the text, and the unusual Sumerian. The present edition has to make the same disclaimer. Almost sixty years later much more of the text may be understood, but at least as much is still unclear or open to diêrent interpretations. In addition to Kramer’s edition, I have consulted the unpublished transliteration by Margaret Green, referenced as Kurigalzu Inscription in the PSD volumes. I wish to thank John Carnahan, Terri Tanaka, and Laurie Pearce for reading through the text with me, and for many insightful suggestions and corrections. Kurigalzu’s inscription is presented here in transliteration and translation, following the order of fragments as designated by Kramer. Fragment A v talks about Nanna, and Bb iii mentions Dilimbabbar, another name of the moon god. Similarly, fragments C ix and D iv mention Inana, “the most competent one” (a n - z i b2). It is likely that such passages belong together, but how they are to be arranged is not clear, and no attempt has been made to establish the relationships between the fragments in more detail. Fragments Ba and Bb are diêrent surfaces of the same fragment. Again, the textual relationship between these surfaces remains unclear. Kramer’s publication includes photographs of all the pieces; additional photographs were published in Baqir 1944 and Baqir 1945. Occasionally, collation from these photographs has solved minor problems in the copies. In general the copies seem reliable.

15. Kramer’s translation is also published in James B. Pritchard, ed., Ancient Near Eastern Texts Relating to the Old Testament (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1950), 57–59.

One Line Short


33

Fragment A = IM 050009 (˜gs. 3, 4)16 A i “traces” A ii 1u. [. . .] URU 2u. [. . .] KA 3u. [. . .]-lu-a 4u–5u. [i]m-mi-in-bar-bar-re-es2 6u. ud dnun-gal

7u–8u. dig^ ir un3-na-ke4-ne 9u–10u. su-hu-ul-la2-bi 11u. ba-da-an-su2 12u–13u. in dnun-[gal]-a-ne 2 lines traces

. . . they saw(?). When the herd of the Igigi, the high gods, became clouded . . . A iii 1u. g^ [a2-la] 2u–3u. ba-ra-[x]-dag-ge 4u. nam-lugal-bi 5u–6u. gibil4-gibil4-a-as nun-na 7u–8u. igi mi-ni-in-zu-a-as

9u. da-ga-an 10u. kur-kur-ra-ta 11u. an-ta 12u–13u. mi-ni-in-g^ al2-la-[as] 1 line traces

. . . he will not neglect! For renewing its kingship, when he revealed the prince, when he raised him on high in the totality of all the lands . . . A iv 1u. x x-na UD? 2u. il2-i-de3 3u. a2-ag^ 2-g^ a2 4u. tur-tur

5u. sum2-sum2-mu-da 6u. sag4-ba 7u–9u. ka mu-si-in-bal-bal-es2 10u. [. . .]-e

. . . carrying . . . About the small tasks that they were giving them, they conversed in their hearts. Av 1u. [. . .]-da 2u. kug-ga-bi 3u–5u. nu-mu-ni-in-te-es-am3 6u. an-pa an gu3 7u–8u. ba-ra-an-sum2-mu-us 9u. dnanna 10u–11u. g^ i6 zalag-ge-da

12u. ud-da 13u. pirig^ -g^ a2 14u. ku-ku-da 15u. g^ iskim g^ i6-a 16u. [zu]-zu-da 17u. [. . . -n]i?

(. . .) and the holy . . . . they did not bring close, so that they will not roar in the zenith of the heavens! Nanna who lights up the night, and who sleeps during the day like a lion; who reveals the signs of the night . . . A vi 1u–2u. a2-bi-ne-ne-a 3u. tab-ba

4u. lukur nu-gig 5u–6u. TU lal3-a-sag4-ga

16. The museum numbers were recorded by Brinkman (1976: 210–11).

34

NIEK VELDHUIS

Fig. 3. Fragment A (IM 50009). Reproduced from Kramer and Baqir (1948). 7u. di dutu-kam 8u. g^ iskim 9u–10u. ib2-dug4-ga-e-a 11u–12u. en i-si-is la2-a 13u–14u. ni2 si-si-ig-ga-bi 15u. nam-mi2-us2-sa2

16u–17u. mu-ni-in-ak-es2 18u. tu-ra 19u. a-nir-ra 20u. [za]-ra-ah 21u. [. . .]-ak

. . . doubled(?) in their power. When the verdict of Utu was recognized and while the e n was wailing in fear and deadly silence, the l u k u r, n u g i g, TU and l a l a s a g a priestesses arranged the wedding rites. Illness, wailing, sorrow [disappeared?]


Fig. 4. Fragment A (IM 50009). Reproduced from Kramer and Baqir (1948). A vii 1u. [e2-u-gal] 2u. [an-na] 3u. [ki dig^ ir] 4u–5u. [dag^ al zu-u3-ta] 6u–7u. [dnun-gal-a-ne-er] 8u. [me-a-am3] 9u–11u. [za nu-un-sa-sa-a-de3] 12u. [ne-ne] 13u. [lugal] 14u–15u. [ka-silim-me-es2] 16u–17u. [dig^ ir kug-kug]-ga-me-es 18u. ki den-lil2 19u–20u. dnin-lil2-bi-ta 21u–22u. dnun-gal-a-ne-er 23u. me-a-am3 24u–26u. za nu-un-sa-sa-a-de3 27u. ne-ne

28u. lugal 29u–30u. ka-silim-me-es2 31u–32u. dig^ ir me gi-na-me-es 33u–34u. sag4 zu-u3-ta 35u–36u. dnanna-ir-ra 37u. su-luh 38u–39u. si mu-na-sa2-is 40u. e2-u-gal 41u. [SA]L?-zu 42u. [na]m?-mah 43u. [za3-mi2] 44u–45u. [da-da-ra-as] 46u. [pa ed2] 47u–49u. [dku-ri-gal-zu-me-en3] 50u–51u. [ud ul-li2-a-as] 52u–53u. [ud libir-ra mi-ni-gub]

35

36

NIEK VELDHUIS

[In the Eåugal of heaven, in the place of the broad-knowing gods, the Igigi who cannot be rivaled anywhere–they are kings of praise and holy] gods—at the place of Enlil and Ninlil, the Igigi, who cannot be rivaled anywhere—they are kings of praise and gods of the true m e s—in their knowing hearts they perform the puri˜cation rites for Nanna. [I am Kurigalzu, the one who made appear] the Eåugal [wrapped in] X, greatness, and praise; [I have set up there the old days (to continue) into the future]. A viii 1u. mu-[. . .] 2u. kig^ 2-[bi] 3u–4u. li-[bi2]-gi4-g[i4] 5u. ki-su-pes11 6u–8u. dig^ ir-re2-ne kug-kug-ga 9u. u8-bi 10u. bi2-gi4-gi4 11u. dig^ ir engur-ra 12u–13u. gi4-gi4-da-a-ne 14u. kig^ 2-bi

15u–16u. mu-ni-in-gi4-es2 17u–18u. nundum KA-KA-ba 19u. g^ is a-nim 20u–23u. zi-ge-da nam-he2 nig^ 2-g^ ar-ra 24u–25u. dirig-dirig-ge4-da 26u. zag-zag-ga 27u. UD-UD-a 28u. [. . .] DU 29u. [. . . D]U3?

[. . .] did not answer in extispicy. I established the ewe of the holy gods at the cult place. The gods of the Engur, who always answer, gave their message (in extispicy). To raise . . . and to multiply prosperity and riches, the beautiful(?), the shiny, . . . A ix 1u. M[I?- . . .] 2u. AN [. . .] 3u. NI x [. . .] 2 lines broken 6u. MIR [. . .] 7u. nu-k[us2] 8u. nam-g[ur4] (or nam-s[i-sa2]) 9u. inim hul2 10u–12u. mi-ni-in-dim2-ma-ba

13u. uz3-sag^ 14u–15u. mah i3-bi2-la 16u. ur5-re 17u–18u. pad3-da-na-as 19u. den-lil2 20u–21u. dnin-lil2-bi 22u. a-ne 23u–24u. ni2-gal-le x

. . . tireless. After creating pride and happy talk in order to choose the magni˜cent leader as heir by extispicy Enlil and Ninlil [clad] him in radiance. Ax 1u. AN [. . .] 2u. UR? [. . .] 6 lines broken Fragment B = IM 050140 (˜gs. 5, 6, 7) Ba i 1u. [. . . s]a? 2u. [. . .]-bi 3u–4u. [. . .] mi-in-[. . .] x U8 5u–6u. [. . . lu]gal? su2-[. . .] x-as

1 line traces 10. ZU [. . .]

7u. [. . .] x-ge 8u. [. . . u]r2?-x 9u. [. . .] UN


Fig. 5. Fragment B (IM 50140) side a. Reproduced from Kramer and Baqir (1948).

Fig. 6. Fragment B (IM 50140) side b. Reproduced from Kramer and Baqir (1948).

Fig. 7. Fragment B (IM 50140) sides a and b. Photograph reproduced from Baqir (1945). Another photograph of the same piece was published in Kramer and Baqir (1948).

37

38

NIEK VELDHUIS

Ba ii 2 lines traces 3u–4u. [. . .] ra x-ah-da 5u–6u. alan nam-lu2-u18-lu 7u–8u. dim2-dim2-me-da

9u. dim -[. . .] 10u. [s]i-si-d[a] 11u. nam-kug-babbar 12u. IM [. . .]

. . . fashioning an anthropomorphic statue . . . Ba iii 1u. ug^ 3 lu-a 2u. ug^ 3 sar2?-[ra]

3u. u8? [. . .] 4u. x [. . .]

. . . the teeming people, the numerous people . . . Bb i 1 line traces 2u. [. . .] en3 3u. [tar]-ra-na-as 4u. kig^ 2-bi

5u. a2-bi 6u–7u. bi2-in-zu-us 8u. nam-lugal-as 9u–10u. [m]u-ni-in-[. . .] IM

Because he inquired they revealed the procedure and the work(?). For kingship he/they . . . Bb ii 1u. an-ur2 2u. an-pa-a-as 3u. sag^ -gi6-ga 4u. me-lam2-a-ni 5u. su4-su4-a

6u. en-nu-ug^ 3 tur-tur 7u. tu-tu-da-as 8u. itu tes2-a u6? di 9u. ud 30-kam 10u–11u. g^ is hur-hur-r[e]-da

While his radiance from horizon to zenith covers the black headed people; so that the small watches are born, while looking at(?) all the months, to plan the thirty days . . . Bb iii 1 line traces 2u. pa e[d2] 3u–4u. ddil-im2-babbar2 5u. an uras-ta 6u. si-bi 7u. su4-su4-a 8u. an uras

9u. silig-ge 10u. kalam-ma 11u. bar-dag^ al-la 12u. sag^ -gi6-ga 13u. kar2-kar2 14u. ddam-[gal-nun-na]

. . . appearing. Dilimbabbar’s horns covering heaven and earth; the mighty one in heaven and earth, shining over the land and lighting up the black-headed people, Damgalnuna . . . Bb iv 1u. a[r? . . .] 2u. ri-[. . .] 3u. as-te 4u. g^ a2-g^ a2 5u–7u. g^ is nam-en hur-hur-ra ki

8u. g^ is ed2 9u. g^ issu4-a 10u. ban3-da 11u. tuku-a 12u. x [. . .]

. . . placing the throne; the one who designs e n - ship at the place where the tree came up; the one who owns a small stool. . . .


39

Fragment C = IM 050010 (˜gs. 8, 9) Ci 3 lines traces C ii 1u. [. . .] SAL 2u. [. . .] A† 1 line traces 9 lines broken 13u. [den-lil2] 14u–15u. d[nin]-lil2-[bi] 16u–17u. nam-nitalam

18u–20u. dpap-[suk]kal bi2-g^ a2-g^ a2 21u–23u. [. . .] mu-[ni]-in-[sum2?]-mu4-us5 24u. [e2]-u-gal 25u. [. . .] AN 26u. [. . .] MI 27u. [. . .]-a-ni 1 line traces

Enlil and Ninlil gave(?) as spouse to(?) Pap[sukkal] . . . The Eåugal . . . C iii 1u–2u. den-lil2 3u–4u. dnin-lil2-bi 5u. nam-se3 6u. [. . .]-UN? 10 lines broken 17u–18u. [. . .]-da-g^ al2-la 19u–20u. nu-un-fisifl-im-bar 21u–22u. nig^ 2 tum2-tum2-mu

23u. g^ is-zal 24u–25u. dag^ al-la-as tug2 26u–29u. sag9-ga-bi-ta NI-NI gu 30u. su-ur2 31u. ak-de3 32u. [d]en-lil2 33u–34u. [d]nin-[lil2]-bi 35u. [. . .]-x

Enlil and Ninlil . . . ... Very suitably and in broad wisdom, in order to make twined yarn that is spun for good quality cloth, Enlil and Ninlil . . . C iv 1u–2u. dig^ ir me gi-na-me-es2 3u–4u. sag4 zu-u3-ta 5u–7u. dnin-in-si-na-ra 8u. [s]u-luh 9u–10u. [si] mu-sa2-is 11u. [e2]-u-gal 12u. [X]-zu 13u. [nam]-mah 14u. [za3]-mi2 15u–16u. da-da-ra-as 17u. pa ed2

18u–20u. dku-ri-gal-zu-me-en3 21u–22u. ud ul-li2-a-as 23u–25u. ud libir-ra mi-ni-gub 26u. lugal 27u–31u. dne3-iri11-gal-ra mas2!(KUN)-sag^ !(KA) kur-ra ki 32u–34u. da-nun-na-ke4-ne 35u. te-g^ a2 36u. den-lil2 37u–38u. dnin-[lil2-bi]

[At the Eåugal of heaven, in the place of the broad-knowing gods, the Igigi who cannot be rivaled anywhere—they are kings of praise and holy gods—at the place of Enlil and Ninlil, the Igigi, who cannot be rivaled anywhere—they are kings of praise and] gods of the true m e s—in their knowing hearts they perform the puri˜cation rites for Nininsina. I am Kurigalzu, the one who made appear the Eåugal wrapped in X, greatness, and praise; I have set up there the old days (to continue) into the future. For King Nergal the foremost of the netherworld, drawing near to the place of the Anuna, Enlil, and Ninlil . . .

40

NIEK VELDHUIS

Fig. 8. Fragment C (IM 50010). Reproduced from Kramer and Baqir (1948). Cv 1u. dug4-ga 2u. ra-ah 3u–6u. si3-ki-dam sa-bi su2-ru-da 7u. a2-bi 8u–9u. tu-lu-a a2 10u–12u. g^ is-na2-ka si-si-da 13u–16au. u2-si4-an tug2-kisi16-kisi16-ur3 16bu–18u. dul-la su-gur-ra 19u. za-ra

20u–22u. nu-g^ al2-la tu-tu-da 23u. sag^ -su 24u. nu-ak-a 25u–26u. udug kar-kar-re 27u–28u. ka ba-dib-ba 29u. gu2 ki-a 30u–35u. e2-u-gal-se3 gu2 nu-un-si-g^ ar-ra-as RI-RI-ga 36u. UD? gal-bi


41

Fig. 9. Fragment C (IM 50010). Photograph reproduced from Kramer and Baqir (1948). . . . doing . . . those who beat and destroy; those with ruptured tendons; slackened arms; who ˜ll(?) the side of the bed, those who in the evening have no teaseled garment, no cover, no turban, no braided garment; those who do not fasten the headdress with a pin, the ˘eeing u d u g - demons, their mouths seized, do not bow their necks to the ground for the Eåugal. C vi 1u–2u. a-ne-er ki-a 3u–7u. su-nig^ in a-za-lu-lu al-nu2-nu2-u8-du6-ba 8u–10u. mu-un-na-an-ba-es2 11u. e2-u-gal 12u. an-na 13u. ki dig^ ir 14u–15u. dag^ al zu-u3-ta 16u–17u. dnun-gal-a-ne-er 18u. me-a-am3 19u–21u. za nu-un-sa-sa-a-de3

22u. ne-ne 23u. lugal 24u–25u. ka-silim-me-es2 26u–27u. dig^ ir kug-kug-ga-me-es 28u–29u. ki den-lil2 30u–32u. dnin-lil2-bi-ta 33u–34u. dnun-gal-a-ne-fierfl? 35u. me-a-am3 36u. za nu-[. . .]

. . . they allot to him all the living beings who are sleeping in the earth. At the Eåugal of heaven, in the place of the broad-knowing gods, the Igigi who cannot be rivaled anywhere—they are kings of praise and holy gods—at the place of Enlil and Ninlil, the Igigi, who cannot be rivaled anywhere—[they are kings of praise and gods of the true m e s—in their knowing hearts they perform the puri˜cation rites for . . . I am Kurigalzu, the one who made appear the Eåugal wrapped in X, greatness and praise; I have set up there the old days (to continue) into the future.]

42

NIEK VELDHUIS

C vii 1u–2u. -bi [ki]-bi g[i4?] 3u. an-e sa2-sa2 4u–7au. ni2-gal-bi dgira2ra-gin7 7bu–9u. dgansis gi6-gi6-ga 10u. bar erin2? AN 11u. bur2-ru-a 12u. dnun-gal 13u–17u. gal-gal-a-ne a-na-bi nu-ub-gu-ul nir 18u–19u. a-ne?-ir x-da

20u–21u. dnin-i3-li 22u. an-na 23u–24u. dirig-ga-as ki-a 25u–27u. sag3-ge-dam an-ub-ta 28u. da-gan 29u. kid-da 30u. ba-tab-ba 31u–32u. nam-dig^ ir sum2?-da 2 lines broken

. . . its restored . . . that equals heaven, its great radiance, shining like Gira in the black darkness . . . , the great Anuna do not destroy anything of it. Nin-ili, the lofty one, . . . , since she is larger than heaven, scattering over the earth from the quarters of the universe all that is woven or twined . . . C viii 1u–2u an-ub?-ta nig^ 2 3u–8u. a-ne-gin7 ba-ra-an-g^ al2-la-as e2-sag4-ga 9u. du3-a 10u–13u. e2-sag4-ga nig^ 2-sag9-ga g^ ar-ra 14u. g^ is-sub-se3 15u–17u. mu-un-na-an-sum2-mu4!(KU)-us5 18u–20u. nitalam nitalam2-se3

21u–23u. inim dug3-ga kus-bi ur5-bi 24u. te-te 25u. su-ni-se3 26u–27u. ib2-si-si-is 28u–29u. g^ is tuku-na igi 30u. zid [mu-un-si-in-bar]

. . . so that nothing like her’s may exist in the quarters of the universe. After the bedroom was built; putting pleasure into the bedroom they gave to her as her lot. Sweet words between wife and husband, soothing outside and inside, they gave her in her hand. While she listens she [looks] favorably [upon them]. C ix 1u–3u. an-zib2-ba dinana-ra 4u–8u. ha-la-as mu-un-na-an-sum2-mu4!(KU)-us5 9u–10u. tir gu-la ama5 11u–12u. nam-en-na-ni 13u–18u. dnin-i3-li-ir mu-un-na-an-du3-us5 ni2

19u. su tag 20u–22u. mu-un-na-an-dug4-[. . .] 23u. nam-[. . .] 1 line traces

. . . they gave to Inana the very competent one as her share. They built Tirgula (great forest) the women’s quarter of her e n - ship for Nin-ili. She decorated herself . . . Cx 1u–2u. bi2-[ib]-du3-[a] 3u–4u. su-bar-ra-bi 5u–6u. su sum2-ma-dam 7u. itima-bi 8u–10u. sulug-sulug-ga unu2-bi 11u–12au. kug-kug-ga

12bu–13u. se gal-bi 14u–15u. gibil4-gibil4-a-as 16u. GAR ta 17u. GAL2 [. . .] 18u. si [. . .] 19u. x [. . .]

. . . when it was built, half of it was entrusted; in order to renew its radiant bedroom, its shiny banquet hall, and its great shrine . . .


C xi 1u. zi [. . .] 2u. AB [. . .] 3u. kug-g[a] 4u. en? [. . .] 5u. u3 e[n?] Fragment D = IM 050011 (˜gs. 10, 11) 1 column traces D ii 1u. [. . . N]E? 2u. [. . . U]N 3u. [. . .] A2 4u. [. . .] x-ta 5u. [. . .] DU-a 6u. [. . .] x-bi 7u. [. . .]-la 8u. [. . .] sag^ ? 9u. [. . .]-g^ al2

43

6u–7u. ib2-g[u]-ul an 8u. dugud-da 9u. NINDA2-A 10u. MUNUS [. . .]

10u. [. . .] nam 11u. [. . .]-se3 12u. [. . .]-da 13u. [a-za]-lu-lu 14u. nam-kig^ 2 15u. ak-da 16u. nam-sag^ 17u. ki-g^ al2

. . . living beings doing the work(?); eminence; threshing ˘oor. . . . D iii 1u–4u. -NE lu2-ulu3 dara4-ra-as sa2-sa2-de3 5u. as-bar 6u. g^ isg^ espu-as 7u–11u. ka-silim-se3 dug4-ga lu2-lu2 as-bar-gin7

12u. g^ isdala2 13u–15u. tug2 gaba-bi du3-a as-bar 16u–19u. lu2-lu2-gin7 sag4-ga du3-[a]

. . . to make . . . equal to humanity in clothing . . . ; women performing wrestling for glori˜cation; men who like women fasten the robe with a pin on the chest; women who like men fasten it on the heart. . . . D iv 1u. -se3 [tes2-bi] 2u–4u. ba-ad-ra gu7-gu7-da 5u–7u. ser7-da-as sid-e-da 8u–9u. lu2 nig^ 2-erim2-bi

10u. dug3-dug3-ge!(ZI) 11u–15u. ki-in-gub-ba-bi e11-de3 an-zib2-ba 16u–18u. dinana-ra g^ is-sub-ba-na 19u. im-mi-[in-sum2-mu-us]

Those who ˜ght with the dagger; those who are counted as criminals, and those who make evil sweet, to lead them on their ways, they (gave) to the most competent Inana as her lot. Dv 1u. [dig^ ir kug-kug-g]a-[me-es] 2u–3u. ki [d]e[n-[lil2] 4u–6u. d[nin-lil2-bi-ta] 7u–8u. [d]nun-gal-[a]-ne-er 9u. me-a-am3

10u–12u. za nu-un-sa-sa-a-de3 13u. ne-ne 14u. lugal 15u–16u. ka-silim-me-es2 17u–18u. dig^ ir me gi-na-me-es2

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NIEK VELDHUIS

Fig. 10. Fragment D (IM 50011). Reproduced from Kramer and Baqir (1948). [At the Eåugal of heaven, in the place of the broad-knowing gods, the Igigi who cannot be rivaled anywhere—they are kings of praise and] holy gods—at the place of Enlil and Ninlil, the Igigi, who cannot be rivaled anywhere—they are kings of praise and gods of the true m e s—[in their knowing hearts they perform the puri˜cation rites for . . . I am Kurigalzu, the one who made appear the Eåugal wrapped in X, greatness, and praise; I have set up there the old days (to continue) into the future.] D vi 1u. -ra [. . .] 2u–4u. si bi2-in-si-sa2-es2 5u. u2 x

6u. la2 b[a- . . .] 7u. IGI [. . .] 2 lines broken

for . . . they perform . . . 4. Commentary Fragment A A ii 7u–11u For d i g^ i r u n3 - n a see Volk (1995: 177), who argues that “high gods” refers to constellations and planets. The writing s u - h u - u l is syllabic for s u h u l (†U2.MUL) which, following a suggestion by Civil (1994: 141–47) may well equal sugullu, “herd,” and thus be equivalent to (or a variant of) s u h u b2 (†U2.MUL).17 Herd, in this context, refers again to stars and s u2 equals erepu, “to become dark; clouded.” 17. This may well be another instance of two similar words, s u h u l and s u h u b2 written by the same sign combination †U2.MUL (compare k a l a g /k a l, z i g3/z i d, etc.). The most satisfying solution would be s u h u l = sugullu = herd and s u h u b2 = suhuppatu = boot and suhuppu = rim of a wheel, assuming that in both cases the Akkadian words are loans. However, the reading s u h u b2 in the expression g u d s u h u b2 (herding oxen) seems well founded; see Civil (1994: 141–47).


45

Fig. 11. Fragment D (IM 50011). Photograph reproduced from Kramer and Baqir (1948). The phrase d i g^ i r u n3 - n a - k e4 - n e s u - h u - u l - l a2 - b i is an example of the Kassite form of the anticipatory genitive, which is always constructed with -bi, independent of the gender of the possessor. The construction does not require a genitive morpheme and the two nouns thus joined are not necessarily contiguous. Other examples in this text are: A viii: dig^ ir-re2-ne kug-kug-ga u8-bi “the pure gods’ ewe.” Bb iii: ddil-im2-babbar2 an uras-ta si-bi “Dilimbabbar’s horns (cover) heaven and earth.” In these constructions -bi apparently translates Akkadian sa, which is also gender independent. The distinction between animate and inanimate is not abandoned; see, for instance, s a g^ - g i6 g a m e - l a m2 - a - n i s u4 - s u4 - a “(Nanna) covers the black-headed people with his rays.” A iii 1u–2u 5u–6u 7u–8u 9u–10u

For g^ a2 - l a . . . d a g (partly restored here) = “to cease, to be negligent,” and its use in royal literature see Tinney (1996: 183). The form NE.NE - a - a s is also found in C x; in both contexts “to renew” (reading g i b i l4 g i b i l4) appears to make sense, although one would rather expect g i b i l(4) - g i b i l(4) - l a - a s. The compound i g i . . . z u equals uddû, and may be translated as “to appoint,” or as “to reveal.” The ablative in d a - g a - a n k u r - k u r - r a - t a almost certainly carries locative meaning (in all the lands). Lexical texts provide ample attestations of t a = ina or ana.

A iv The subject of the verbs remains unknown. Is this a passage comparable to the beginning of Enuma Elis, where the great gods give tasks to lesser gods? Av 6u–8u

For g u3 . . . s u m2 = ragamu, “to roar,” see Karahashi (2000: 111–12).

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A vi 1u–2u

The su¯x - b i - n e - n e is a plural formation of the inanimate possessive - b i (see Poebel GSG p. 77). This su¯x appears relatively frequently in late lexical texts, where it is translated by sunu. An example is the entry k i - l a2 - b i - n e - n e = su-qul-ta-su2-nu (Ura I 47). An early attestation of the form is found in CBS 186218 rev. ii 19u (a late Old Babylonian copy of Ura I–II, probably, from the Sippar area), which diêrentiates between - a - n e - n e (as a plural of - a n i) and - b i - n e - n e (as a plural of - b i): Obv. ii 35u–37u (|| Ura I 144–147) su-ti-a income su-ti-a-ni his income su-ti-a-ne-ne their income Rev. ii17u–19u (|| Ura II 353–355). gu2-un load gu2-un-bi its load gu2-un-bi-ne-ne their load 4u–6u The copy has SAL.DI†, but the photograph clearly shows l u k u r (SAL.ME). For the priestly titles TU and l a l3 - a - s a g4 - g a see above §2.1. 8u–10u For g^ i s k i m . . . d u g4 = “to recognize,” see Attinger (1993: 547–50). 11u–12u The expression i - s i - i s l a2 is used for “to laugh,” or “to moan” (see Jaques 2006). 13u–14u The word s i - s i - i g equals, among many other things, sahurratum (“deadly silence”), which makes a good pair with n i2 = puluhtum (“fear”). Throughout the text - b i is used as a coordinating particle (fear and deadly silence). 15u The expression n a m - m i2 - u s2 - s a2 . . . a k in Ur III ditillas means “to act as brother-in-law,” which does not make much sense here. Perhaps Sumerian n a m - m i2 - u s2 - s a2 represents the Akkadian abstractum em¿tum here, which may mean “wedding.” 20u Instead of [z a] - r a - a h (“wailing;” usually written z a r a h = SAG.PA.LAGAB) one may also reconstruct [l a] - r a - a h = “di¯culty” (pusqu). A vii This passage is repeated at several places in the text; the only variable element being the name of a major god for whom hand washing rites are performed. The other occurrences are C iv and vi and D v. 24u–26u The expression z a . . . s a is an unorthographic writing for z a g . . . s a2 / s a4 = sananu I/2 = “to rival,” or “to compete.” 44u–45u The verb d a - d a - r a means “to clothe,” or “to tie” (see Lambert 1973: 279). The passage, which describes how Kurigalzu clad the temple Eåugal in greatness(?) and praise(?) may not be fully reconstructed; it is partly preserved here and in C iv: A vii C iv e2-u-gal [. . .]-u-gal ? [MU]NUS -zu [. . .]-zu [. . .]-mah [na]m?-mah traces; then break [zag?]-mi2 da-dara-as etc.

18. http://cdl.museum.upenn.edu/cgi-bin/cdlpager?prod=adhoc&input=P230219&project=DCCLT.


47

A viii 2u–4u 5u 6u–8u

For k i g^ 2 . . . g i4 see above §2.1. For k i - s u - p e s11 = “cult place,” see Klein (1980) with earlier literature. In d i g^ i r - r e2 - n e k u g - k u g - g a (the holy gods) the modi˜er follows after the plural ending. Note that in this same column one ñds d i g^ i r e n g u r - r a g i4 - g i4 - d a - n e, “the always answering gods of the Engur,” where the plural is placed at the end, as in standard Sumerian (also C vii dn u n - g a l g a l - g a l - a - n e). Word order within the noun phrase is freer in Kassite Sumerian. 10u The form b i2 - g i4 - g i4 is a writing for gi.n = kunnu (to establish), as often in late bilinguals. 17u–19u This phrase is entirely unclear to me. 26u In the translation, z a g - z a g - g a is taken as a writing for s a g9 - s a g9 - g a, but this seems dubious. Fragment Ba This passage talks about the statue itself (column ii). The reading u g^ 3 s a r2 - [r a] in column iii is questionable. Fragment Bb Bb ii No full verbal form is preserved so that it is impossible to understand the sentence structure. The passage talks about creating the “small watches” and designing months of thirty days. This column and the next reference the moon god and may have to be connected with A v–vii, but the spatial relation remains unclear. Bb iii 3u–7u 11u

The phrase dd i l - i m2 - b a b b a r2 a n u r a s - t a s i - b i s u4 - s u4 - a must mean “Dilimbabbar’s horns cover heaven and earth,” but what the function is of the ablative - t a remains unclear. For b a r - d a g^ a l see above §2.1.

Fragment C C ii 21u–23u For the writing - m u4 - u s5 see §2.2 and the form m u - u n - n a - a n - s u m2 - m u4 - u s5 in C viii and C ix. In the present case, the reconstruction m u - [n i] - i n - [s u m2] - m u4 - u s5 is problematic, because one hardly expects the verb s u m2 without a dative. C iii 23u–30u The writing g^ i s - z a l is for g^ i z z a l (ear, wisdom, understanding). NI-NI may be for n u - n u . r (to spin) and s u - u r2 for s u r (“to spin,” or “twist”). The theme of good clothing is turned into its opposite in C v, where unruly demons are described as having no proper clothing. C iv 1u–25u

These lines contain the second instance of the repeated passage; see at A vii for further commentary. 27u–31u The signs KUN KA are almost certainly to be read m a s2 - s a g^ , “foremost.” In A ix the expression u z3 - s a g^ appears, with the same meaning. Etymologically, the words mean “head billygoat” and “head she-goat,” respectively, but no such gender diêrentiation seems implied by our text. The dative postposition in dn e3 - i r i11 - g a l - r a m a s2 - s a g^ k u r - r a is placed before the quali˜er (incorrectly according to standards of earlier Sumerian).

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Cv This column continues the passage about Nergal at the end of column iv, discussing (netherworld) demons who do not honor the Eåugal properly. 1u–2u Perhaps to be read g u3 - b i! (GA) r a - a h: shouting. 3u–6u The verb s i3 . (k) is taken here as the equivalent of sapanu, “to destroy.” The verb s u2 - r u equals pararu/purruru = “to scatter, to rupture.” 9u–12u The phrase a2 g^ i s - n a2 - k a s i - s i - d a remains unclear to me. 13u–16u For t u g2 k i s i16 - k i s i16 u r3 see above §2.1 19u The writing z a - r a is syllabic for z a r a6 (TIL.A†) = “(braided) garment.” 20u–22u The word t u - t u - d a equals Akkadian dudittum, “togglepin.” Various Sumerian spellings are known (d u - d i - d a; t u - d i - t u m, etc.), but t u - t u - d a is not otherwise attested. C vi 1u–10u

It is likely that this passage still talks about netherworld aâirs and that sleeping in the earth is a euphemism for death. The rest of this column contains the third installment of the repeated passage; see A vii.

C vii 7bu–9u For dg a n s i s see above §2.1. 10u The meaning and reading of this phrase are unclear to me. 20u–21u The name dn i n - i3 - l i also appears in C ix, where it is used interchangeably with dInana. This identity is con˜rmed by An = Anum I 30 where dn i n - i3 - l i is equated with An-tum dIs-tar (Litke 1998: 25). The word or words preceding this name remain unclear. C viii This column talks about Nin-i3-li/Inana in her role as goddess of love. 14u The GI† in g^ i s - s u b - s e3 looks like KU in the copy but is clear on the photograph. 15u–17u For m u - u n - n a - a n - s u m2 - m u4! (KU) - u s5 (U8) see §2.2. C ix 1u

4u–18u

The sign ZIB2 is written TUM-gunû. Modern sign lists usually describe ZIB2 as NINDA2xE†, which is the form of the sign in the ˜rst millennium. In third-millennium paleography the sign belongs to the TUM family (see Civil 1983; Westenholz OSP I 135 with commentary; and Alster 1991–1992: 26) and the Old Babylonian sign is usually TUMxE† (although NINDA2xE† is attested as well; see Mittermayer 2006, no. 140). The writing TUMxE† survives in Middle Assyrian Ea (see MSL 14 454) and apparently also in ˜rst millennium Aa, but the passage is badly broken (MSL 14 464). For m u - u n - n a - a n - s u m2 - m u4 - u s5 and m u - u n - n a - a n - d u3 - u s5 see §2.2.

Cx 12u–13u s e g a l is a writing for e s3 g a l. 14u–15u For NE.NE - a - a s (g i b i l4 - g i b i l4 - a - a s), see also A iii 5u–6u. Fragment D D iii 1u–4u The word d a r a4 - r a - a s is interpreted as a spelling for d a - d a - r a - a s, “to clothe,” (see commentary at A vii 44u–45u), but not without misgivings. The main reason for this interpretation


5u 6u

7u–19u

49

is that the continuation of the column talks about clothing and toggle pins. The word order of the Sumerian seems badly scrambled. For a s - b a r = woman (amiltu) see above §2.1 The present reading assumes that the passage refers to a ritual wrestling match with gender inversion (for ritual wrestling, see Keetman 2008 with further literature). The sign combination GI†.RU may write various words: g^ i s - s u b (“lot”), g^ isi l l a r (a weapon), g^ isg^ e s p u (“hoop; wrestling”). The word g^ i s - s u b appears in C viii (g^ i s - s u b - s e3) and D iv (g^ i s - s u b - b a - n a) but does not seem to make much sense here. The form of the terminative (written - a s) may re˘ect the reading g^ e s p a (RU), as in P-Ea 600 (all other examples of - a s for the terminative in this text are preceded by the vowel /a/). In this passage the text uses a very archaic form of the sign LU2; column iv features the more regular form. Why this is the case is unclear.

D iv 2u–4u

The writing b a - a d - r a for b a - d a - r a (“dagger”) is attested in Ninmesara 108 (see Zgoll 1997: 481). For the expression t e s2 - b i g u7 “to ˜ght” see Michalowski (1989: 70). 11u–15u The word k i - i n - DU (malaku, padanu; see Klein 1981: 92–93) is to be read k i - i n - g u b here. I do not know of any other ˜rm evidence for the reading of the ñal sign. Dv See A vii References Alster, B. 1991– Early Dynastic Proverbs and Other Contributions to the Study of Literary Texts from Abu Salabikh. AfO 1992 38/39: 1–51. Attinger, P. 1993 Eléments de linguistique sumérienne. La construction de du11/e/di “dire.” OBO Sonderband. Fribourg: Universitaires Fribourg Suisse. Baqir, T. 1944 Iraq Government Excavations at çAqar Quf 1942–1943. Iraq Supplement. 1945 Iraq Government Excavations at çAqar Quf. Second Interim Report 1943–1944. Iraq Supplement. Böck, B. 2004 Überlegungen zu einem Kultfest der altmesopotamischen Göttin Inanna. Numen 51: 20–46. Brinkman, J. A. 1976 Materials and Studies for Kassite History, Vol. 1: A Catalogue of Cuneiform Sources Pertaining to Speci˜c Monarchs of the Kassite Dynasty. Chicago: The Oriental Institute of the University of Chicago. Civil, M. 1983 An Early Dynastic School Exercise from Lagas (Al-Hiba 29). BiOr 40: 559–66. 1994 The Farmer’s Instructions: A Sumerian Agricultural Manual. AuOrS 5. Sabadell: AUSA. Clayden, T. 1996 Kurigalzu I and the Restoration of Babylonia. Iraq 58: 109–21. Heimpel, W. 1993 Zu den Bezeichnungen von Schafen und Ziegen in den Drehem- und Ummatexten. BSA 7: 115–60. Jaques, M. 2006 Le vocabulaire des sentiments dans les textes sumériens: Recherche sur le lexique sumérien et akkadien. AOAT 332. Münster: Ugarit Verlag. Karahashi, F. 2000 Sumerian Compound Verbs with Body-Part Terms. Ph.D. dissertation, The University of Chicago.

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Keetman, J. 2008 Der Kampf im Haustor: Eine der Schlüsselszenen zum Verständnis des Gilgames-Epos. JNES 67: 161–73. Kienast, B. 1965 Igigu und Anunnakku nach den akkadischen Quellen. Pp. 141–58 in Studies in Honor of Benno Landsberger on His Seventy-Fifth Birthday April 21, 1965, eds. H. G. Güterbock and T. Jacobsen. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press. Klein, J. 1980 Some Rare Sumerian Words Gleaned from the Royal Hymns of †ulgi. Pp. ix–xxviii in Studies in Hebrew and Semitic Languages Dedicated to the Memory of Prof. Eduard Yechezkel Kutscher, eds. G. B. Sarfatti, P. Artzi, J. C. Green˜eld and M. Kadarri. Ramat-Gan: Bar-Ilan University Press. 1981 Three †ulgi Hymns. Sumerian Royal Hymns Glorifying King †ulgi of Ur. Bar-Ilan Studies in Near Eastern Languages and Culture. Ramat Gan: Bar-Ilan University Press. 2000 The Independent Pronouns in the †ulgi Hymns. ASJ 22: 135–52. Kramer, S. N.; Baqir, T.; and Levy, S. J. 1948 Fragments of a Diorite Statue of Kurigalzu in the Iraq Museum. Sumer 4: 1–38. Lambert, W. G. 1973 A New Fragment from a List of Antediluvian Kings and Marduk’s Chariot. Pp. 271–80 in Symbolae Biblicae et Mesopotamicae Francisco Mario Theodoro De Liagre Böhl Dedicatae, eds. M. A. Beek, A. A. Kampman, C. Nijland, and J. Ryckmans. Leiden: Brill. Litke, R. L. 1998 A Reconstruction of the Assyro-Babylonian God-Lists, AN: dA-nu-um and AN: Anu sa Ameli. TBC 3. New Haven: Yale Babylonian Collection. Michalowski, P. 1989 The Lamentation over the Destruction of Sumer and Ur. MC 1. Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns. Mittermayer, C. 2006 Altbabylonische Zeichenliste der sumerisch-literarischen Texte. Fribourg: Academic Press. Moran, W. L. 1976 The Kes Temple Hymn and the Canonical Temple List. Pp. 335–42 in Kramer Anniversary Volume. Cuneiform Studies in Honor of Samuel Noah Kramer, eds. B. L. Eichler, J. W. Heimerdinger, and Å. W. Sjöberg. AOAT 25. Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag. Oppenheim, A. L. 1948 Catalogue of the Cuneiform Tablets of the Wilberforce Eames Babylonian Collection in The New York Public Library. Tablets of the Time of the Third Dynasty of Ur. AOS 32. New Haven: American Oriental Society. Peterson, J. 2007 A New Source for Diri Tablet 7. N.A.B.U. 2007/5: 5–6. Sallaberger, W. 2005 Priester A.I. Mesopotamien. RlA 10: 617–40. Sjöberg, Å. W. 1960 Der Mondgott Nanna-Suen in der sumerischen Überlieferung. I. Teil: Texte. Stockholm: Almqvist & Wiksell. Slanski, K. E. 2000 Classi˜cation, Historiography and Monumental Authority: The Babylonian Entitlement narûs (kudurrus). JCS 52: 95–114. Tinney, S. 1996 The Nippur Lament. Royal Rhetoric and Divine Legitimation in the Reign of Isme-Dagan of Isin (1953–1935 B.C.). OPSNKF 16. Philadelphia: The University of Pennsylvania Museum. Veldhuis, N. C. 2000 Kassite Exercises: Literary and Lexical Extracts. JCS 52: 67–94. Volk, K. 1995 Inanna und †ukaletuda: Zur historisch-politischen Deutung eines sumerischen Literaturwerkes. SANTAG 3. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz. Westenholz, J. 2005 Sing a Song for †ulgi. Pp. 343–73 in “An Experienced Scribe Who Neglects Nothing”: Ancient Near Eastern Studies in Honor of Jacob Klein, eds. Y. Sefati, P. Artzi, C. Cohen, B. L. Eichler, and V. A. Hurowitz. Bethesda, MD: CDL.


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Wilcke, C. 2006 Die Hymne auf das Heiligtum Kes. Zu Struktur und “Gattung” einer altsumerischen Dichtung und zu ihrer Literaturtheorie. Pp. 201–37 in Approaches to Sumerian Literature: Studies in Honour of Stip (H.L.J. Vanstiphout), eds. P. Michalowski and N. C. Veldhuis. CM 35. Leiden: Brill. Zgoll, A. 1997 Der Rechtsfall der En-hedu-Ana im Lied nin-me-sara. AOAT 246. Münster: Ugarit-Verlag.

THE NAPTARU AT UGARIT Raymond Westbrook (The Johns Hopkins University)

In an article in JCS on the Old Babylonian term naptaru, I mentioned in a footnote that there is one reference to the term at Ugarit, in a contract of exchange.1 Although not indicated by the context, where it merely quali˜es one of the parties exchanging ˜elds, Nougayrol surmised that it might bear the meaning “délogeant” or “hôte temporaire,” which would conform to my interpretation “visitor” for the Old Babylonian sources.2 There is in fact a second reference, in a royal land grant.3 In his edition, Nougayrol translated the term “liberation,” taking it as a form of ipteru “rançon, prix de rachat.”4 The translation was not based on the context, which is even less helpful than in the ˜rst source, being a terse ñal clause with unique terminology. Nonetheless, there are analogous clauses in the Akkadian documents from Ugarit that throw light on the social conditions behind the clause in question and the purpose that it was intended to ful˜ll. Grants of land by the king of Ugarit to individual subjects frequently contain clauses regulating the grantee’s feudal services or dues. The most common is the pilku duty that is imposed with the land: for example, the grantee must “bear the pilku of the estate” (pi-il-ka4 sa É ú-bal).5 In other cases, the pilku duty is based on the grantee’s status, although still connected with the land. In RS 18.500:9–18 the grantee must “bear the pilku of the merchants” (pil-ka-su sa LÚ.ME† DAM.GÀR-ut-ti ú-ub-bal) and as long as he does so he is guaranteed tenure of the estate.6 Often, the purpose of the clause is to exempt the grantee from the duty: “there is no pilku on this land” (pil-ka ia-nu i-na A.†À.HI.A an-nu-ti).7 The duty linked to the land may be replaced by a duty linked to status—the grantee will bear the pilku of the maryannu of Ugarit instead.8 A signi˜cant status in this regard is that of m¿dû sarri (“intimate of the king”), apparently a type of courtier attached to the retinue of the king (or of the queen: RS 16.348).9 The m¿dû sarri must pay an

1. R. Westbrook, “The Old Babylonian Term naptarum,” JCS 46 (1994) 41 n. 1; see also 43 n. 18: RS 15.123+16.152 = PRU 3 89. 2. PRU 3 219, 223. 3. RS 16.239:15. 4. PRU 3 80, 220, 223. 5. RS 16.262:10–11 = PRU 3 67; see RS 16.142 = PRU 3 77; RS 16.204 = PRU 3 119–20. On the content of the pilku duty, see M. Heltzer, “Zum Steuersystem in Ugarit (pilku-ubdy und Ähnliches),” in Vorträge gehalten auf der 28. Rencontre Assyriologique Internationale in Wien 6.–10. Juli 1981, eds. H. Hirsch and H. Hunger. AfO Beiheft 19 (Horn: Ferdinand Berger, 1982), 112–17. 6. PRU 6 no. 30; see RS 16.162: 24–26 (he shall bear the pilku of the eunuchs; there is no other pilku on this land); 16.138; 16.204. 7. RS 15.145:19 = PRU 3 122–23; see RS 15.147, 15.132, 16.201, 16.256, 17.35, 19.98. Likewise, exemption is granted from ilku service: RS 15.140, 15.155. 8. RS 19.98:21–24 = PRU 6 no. 31. 9. See M. Heltzer, The Internal Organization of the Kingdom of Ugarit (Wiesbaden: Reichert, 1982), 161–63.

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annual sum in silver directly to the king.10 At the same time, he is exempted from certain feudal obligations, presumably in return for those payments.11 The m¿dû sarri is “free of the hand of the chariot captain and the mayor: neither of them shall approach him”(is-tu †U-ti lúUGULA gisGIGIR ù lúha-za-ni za-ki).12 Alternatively, “the mayor and the overseer of ˜elds shall not have authority over him” (lúha-za-nu URUki ù lúUGULA A.†À.ME† la-a i-mali-ik i-UGU-su).13 It is not clear whether this clause places the bene˜ciary totally beyond the jurisdiction of the local civil and military authorities or merely makes him exempt from standard obligations that they were entitled to impose, such as taxes (or levies) and corvée duty. At all events, another version speci˜es a particular burden that they cannot impose: “He is free of the hand of the chariot captain and the mayor: they shall not cause a foreign resident (ubru) to enter his house” (is-tu †U-ti lúUGULA gisGIGIR ù lúha-za-ni za-ki lúub-ru a-na É-su la ú-se-ri-bu).14 The same privilege is granted to a person appointed to the status of maryannu: “foreign residents (ubru) shall not enter his houses” (lú.mesub-ru [a-n]a É.HI.A-su ú-ul e-ru-ub).15 It also appears in a set of immunities granted to a person of unnamed status that includes an important variant: “a foreign resident (ubru) shall not enter his house, he will not serve as a [royal] messenger, the habiru shall not enter his house” (LÚ-lum ub-ru a-na É-ti-su la-a i-ru-ub ina DUMU.ME† sip-ru LUGA[L] la-a i-la-ak LÚ.ME† SA.GAZ.ZA a-na É-ti-su la-a i-ru-ub).16 At Ugarit and in the neighboring societies of the Late Bronze Age, the habiru are attested as dangerous brigands who on occasion could be integrated into the organization of the state, which suggests a role as mercenaries.17 The grantee’s privilege is therefore not to have to provide hospitality for foreign visitors or to have foreign mercenaries billeted on him (and not to be sent on mission as an envoy himself).18 Apparently, the mayor and military commander were responsible for the allocation of quarters for these civil and military guests among the local citizens. Against this background, we are able to elucidate the use of the term naptaru in our second source at Ugarit (RS 16.239:15). It occurs in a land grant by King Arhalbu to a certain Abdu, in a clause exempting Abdu from feudal obligations. Abdu is con˜rmed as both a maryannu and a m¿dû of the king, with the obligation to make a regular payment to the king. Lines 14–16 read: ù IÁRAD-du [a]-na re-sú-ti la i-lak ù na-ap-ta-ra la ú-bal

The ˜rst duty, “to go to the help of ” (ana resuti alaku), would appear on the basis of a normal usage of this phrase as attested at Ugarit, to be to furnish military aid.19 For an individual, it would mean

10. RS 15.137 = PRU 3 134–35; RS 16.143 = PRU 3 81–82. 11. I. Márquez Rowe, The Royal Deeds of Ugarit. AOAT 335 (Münster: Ugarit-Verlag, 2006), 240–41. 12. RS 16.250:17–19 = PRU 3 85–86. 13. RS 15.137:15–16 = PRU 3 134–35. Possibly also RS 16.348:10 = PRU 3 162–63 (broken). 14. RS 16.157:22–23 = PRU 3 83–84. On the position of the ubru as a foreigner residing at Ugarit, see P. Vargyas, “Immigration into Ugarit,” in Immigration and Emigration within the Ancient Near East: Festschrift E. Lipinski, eds. K. van Lerberghe and A. Schoors (Leuven: Peeters, 1995), 395–402. 15. RS 16.132:21–22 = PRU 3 140–41. On the status of maryannu, see Heltzer, Internal Organization of the Kingdom of Ugarit, 111–15. 16. RS 15.109+16.296:53–54 = PRU 3 102–3. 17. See J. Bottéro, Habiru, RlA 4 (1972–75), 14–27, esp. 27; M. Astour, “Les étrangers à Ugarit et le statut juridique des habiru,” RA 53 (1959) 70–76. 18. Astour, “Les étrangers à Ugarit,” 74–75; Vargyas, “Immigration into Ugarit,” 400; Márquez Rowe, Royal Deeds of Ugarit, 240. 19. CAD R 270b; at Ugarit: RS 19.68:29–32 (= PRU 4 284–86) “If (the enemy) attacks my country, Aziru shall come to my aid with his chariots and infantry.”

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serving among the reserves in a military campaign. The clause is therefore an exemption from military conscription, analogous to the exemption from missions as an envoy. The content of the second duty, “to bear a naptaru” (naptara abalu) is not immediately apparent, although the verb abalu con˜rms that the bearing of a feudal duty is at issue, as in the bearing of the pilku duty. On the analogy of the ˜rst duty, Lackenbacher translates the exemption as “ne fournira/ fournit pas de remplaçant.”20 The true analogy, however, is with the duty towards the foreign resident (ubru) seen above. In my discussion of Old Babylonian naptaru, I noted two sources where the naptaru and the foreign resident (ubaru) are placed in the same category.21 In the lexical list LÚ = sa, naptaru appears in a separate section containing a number of associated terms, the ˜rst of which is ubaru.22 In Codex Eshnunna §41, the naptaru, the ubaru, and the m¿dû are three types of persons who are vulnerable to exploitation by a taverness because, we suggested, they are all outsiders. The social standing of the Old Babylonian m¿dû is not known and does not appear to be the same as that of the m¿dû sarri at Ugarit. There is no question, on the other hand, that the widely attested term ubaru means the same as ubru at Ugarit. It is reasonable to deduce from this equivalence that the duty owed to the naptaru in the present document is of the same order as that owed to a foreign resident by citizens of Ugarit, namely to provide him with accommodation. The meaning that I proposed for Old Babylonian naptaru, “a visitor,” therefore ˜ts the situation at Ugarit perfectly. Accordingly, we can translate the exemption clause as follows: “Abdu will not serve among the reserves and will not bear the duty of (accommodating) a visitor.”

20. S. Lackenbacher, Textes Akkadiens d’Ugarit. LAPO 20 (Paris: Cerf, 2002), 303. 21. Westbrook, “The Old Babylonian Term naptarum,” 43–45. 22. GIR5 = ú-ba-ru / KA†4?.E.NE = i-sá-ra-a-nu / GA.AN.URÌ = nap-ta-ru: ND 4373 iii 11u–13u (MSL 12 141–42).

ZIGGURATS, COLORS, AND PLANETS: RAWLINSON REVISITED Peter James and Marinus Anthony van der Sluijs (London)

The Walls of Ecbatana Since at least the mid-nineteenth century, scholars have pondered the meaning of the colors, which, according to Herodotus (Hist. 1.98), adorned the seven concentric battlements of the royal city of Ecbatana in Media built by King Deioces in the late-eighth century BC: The building was so contrived that each circle of walls is higher than the next by the battlements only. The fact that the place chosen was itself a hill helps the design, but it was also much strengthened by contrivance. The circles of the walls were, in all, seven, and within the ñal circle are the royal palace and the treasuries . . . The battlements of the ˜rst circle are white, the second black, the third scarlet, the fourth blue, the ˜fth orange. Thus the battlements of those ˜ve circles are painted with colors; but of the last two circles, the one had its battlements coated with silver, the other with gold. (trans. Grene 1987: 80–81)1

Hence the color sequence was: white – black – dark red – blue – light red – silver – gold Sir Henry Rawlinson (1810–1895), traditionally the founding father of Assyriology, seems to have been the ˜rst to suspect an astronomical signi˜cance in these colors, proposing that each represented one of the seven traditional planets. His primary source for these associations was the twelfth-century Azerbaijani poet Nizami:2 This [Herodotus’ account] is manifestly a fable of Sabaean origin, the seven colours mentioned by Herodotus being precisely those employed by the Orientals to denote the seven great heavenly bodies, or the seven climates in which they revolve. Thus Nizámí, in his poem of the Heft Peïker, describes a seven-bodied palace, built by Bahrám Gúr, nearly in the same terms as Herodotus. The palace dedicated to Saturn, he says, was black—that of Jupiter

1. In Greek, the respective colors are: leukós, “white,” mélas, “black,” phoiníkeos, “dark red,” kânos, “blue,” sandarákinos, “light red,” katargyroménos, “covered with silver, silvered” and katakechrysoménos, “gilded.” For phoiníkeos, LSJ s.v. “foinÇkeoÍ”) give “purple-red, crimson, and (generally) red,” as well as “dark red,” from phoinix with the same meanings (p. 1948). Rawlinson (1858: 242) and Grene (above) legitimately translate it as “scarlet.” As for sandarákinos, Liddell and Scott (1996: 1582 s.v. “sandravkh”) give “of orange colour.” The adjective is derived from sandaráke, “red sulphide of arsenic, realgar” or “an orange pigment made therefrom”; cf. Latin sandaraca, “a red coloring matter” (Lewis and Short 1879: 1626). We have opted here for a simple distinction between phoiníkeos as dark red and sandarákinos as light red. 2. In Nizami’s romance Haft Paikar (“The Seven Beauties”), the hero Bahram meets seven maidens on seven successive days. Each has a diêrent color of eyes, garments, and sometimes hair, and occupies a pavilion with a corresponding color. The colors are linked to the planets governing the days of the week. For translation and commentary, see Wilson (1924).

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orange, or more strictly sandal-wood colour (Sandalí)—of Mars, scarlet—of the sun, golden—of Venus, white—of Mercury, azure—and of the moon, green—a hue which is applied by the orientals to silver. (Rawlinson 1841: 127–28)

He developed his views in 1854 when excavating parts of the great ziggurat temple of Nabû at Birs Nimr¿d (ancient Borsippa). According to a cylinder he discovered, the ziggurat had been renovated by Nebuchadrezzar II (604–562 BC). The cylinder states that the ziggurat was called é . u r4 . (m e) . i m i n . a n . k i, “house which gathers the seven (m e’s) of heaven and underworld” (George 1993: 157 s.v. #1193). Rawlinson took these mes to be “the planets of the seven spheres” (1861: 17–18).3 In keeping with this, he set out to identify seven stages in the ruins of the structure and satis˜ed himself that each had been decorated with a diêrent color. He reconstructed these, in ascending order, as: black – rich red brown – bright red – gold – yellow – blue – silver Then, using the “Sabaean” associations he had derived from Nizami, Rawlinson recognized in this sequence “the well known [planetary] order of Saturn, Jupiter, Mars, Sol, Venus, Mercury, and the Moon . . .”: Saturn black

Jupiter rich red brown

Mars bright red

Sun gold

Venus yellow

Mercury blue

Moon silver

For Rawlinson this was proof that the Babylonians were not only interested in the order of the planets, but that they had arrived at the most accurate system possible within the limits of a geocentric perspective.4 The design of both Birs Nimr¿d and Ecbatana apparently presupposed knowledge of this planetary sequence. Rawlinson felt that “hints” from a tradition about the variegated ziggurat of Borsippa could have fed into the story of the walls of Ecbatana (1861: 18 n. 1). However, as the reconstructed sequence at Borsippa did not match that given by Herodotus for Ecbatana, he was forced to conclude that the reported color order was irrevocably muddled.5 The Borsippa Ziggurat But what did Rawlinson actually ñd at Birs Nimr¿d? Starting with the lowest level of the ziggurat he reported the following: 1. 2.

3.

The well-preserved lowest tier was “thickly coated with bitumen,” providing the black color associated with Saturn (Rawlinson 1861: 18). Burnt bricks of high quality, “a rich, red brown.” Despite his admission that “it is not very certain what color we are to attribute to Jupiter,” the logic of his wider assumption led Rawlinson to associate this stage with that planet (1861: 19). Brighter red bricks, which to Rawlinson indicated Mars (1861: 9, 19–20), universally recognized in the ancient world as “the red planet.”

3. The meaning of the word m e is among the most debated of the Sumerian lexicon. Terms such as “power” or “decree” are currently preferred; for a discussion see Averbeck (2000: 418 n. 2). 4. The outer planets (Saturn, Jupiter, and Mars) are given in their correct order, starting with the most distant from the Earth, and are correctly separated from the inner planets Venus and Mercury. The Moon is in its correct position as the nearest body to the Earth. 5. His brother George experimented with a weekday sequence of planets for Ecbatana but similarly had to conclude that Herodotus had “accidentally reversed the places of black and white, and of scarlet and orange” (1858: 242).

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4.

5. 6.

7.

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Pinkish bricks, which Rawlinson thought were originally clad in gold, representing the Sun, but subsequently plundered; he found the fourth stage severely damaged, as if by pickaxe (Rawlinson 1861: 20). Yellow bricks. Without specifying his sources (evidently Islamic), Rawlinson (1861: 21) opined that “Venus was ˜gured in the temple of Borsippa as a light yellow.” Gray. Using a highly elaborate argument (see below), Rawlinson (1861: 22) argued that this level had originally been encased in a coating of burnt blue slag. He asserted that “The sphere of Mercury . . . is everywhere represented as blue.” Gray, weather-beaten bricks. Rawlinson (1861: 23–24) explained the absence of a silver coating, corresponding to the Moon, again by plundering.

Planetary associations aside, Rawlinson’s own words reveal the highly prejudiced nature of his decisions regarding the “original” colors by which the stages were distinguished. Rawlinson admitted particular problems regarding the great pinnacle of brickwork at the top of the ruin, thought to represent the sixth and seventh levels, plus a presumed chapel on the summit: It may be objected that the whole extent of the standing pile exhibits, at present, one uniform appearance of dark, weather-beaten brickwork, and that there is no trace of its having been divided into two stages, or having supported a superstructure. (1861: 22, 23)

Rawlinson’s explanation for the absence of the expected color (blue) from the sixth stage (the base of the “pile”) was even more ingenious than that for stages #4 and #7. Here he appealed to “the large detached masses of vitri˜ed matter, now cumbering the upper platform” (1861: 22). Described by him as “blue slag,” more of it was “strewn about the surface of the mound, and in some instances . . . rolled down into the plain” (1861: 7). In Rawlinson’s opinion, it “most unmistakably split oˆ from the lower portion of the pile” and hence originally formed the exterior casing of the sixth stage (1861: 22, 7). The reasoning involved the idea that this stage of the ziggurat had been deliberately ˜red: “all this portion of the building had been arti˜cially vitri˜ed at the time of its construction,” the intense ˜re converting its exterior into “one uniform mass” of blue slag which had subsequently split oˆ “under the action of the elements” (1861: 6, 7). The weakness of these arguments is self-evident. The idea that the ˜re was due to a deliberate process, intended to convert the sixth stage into “slag,” is extraordinary. Such a method is without parallel in the architectural history of ancient Mesopotamia.6 As observed by Julius Oppert (1863: 202), who examined the structure shortly before Rawlinson, the intensity of the ˜re had been enough to warp some layers of brickwork to the extent that they were no longer horizontal. The burning must thus surely have been unintentional on the part of the builders. Extensive merging of the ostensible brick colors in the interior clearly caused Rawlinson (1861: 8, 21) considerable di¯culty. For example: The pink and yellow layers are so intermingled, where the zones, as exposed in the trenches, appear to join, and generally, indeed, wherever the bricks can be examined around the slope of the mound, that it is impossible to say exactly where one division ends, or the other begins.

Likewise, Rawlinson’s distinction between the red brickwork of layers 2 and 3 (see above) was hardly compelling. 6. Rawlinson may have been in˘uenced by an idea widespread in the late-eighteenth century, according to which the socalled vitri˜ed forts of Scotland had been deliberately ˜red, a proposition laid to rest in Wilson (1851: 413–18).

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Indeed, so ruinous was the condition of the ziggurat that it seems extremely doubtful that Rawlinson was able to examine any exterior surface (as opposed to interior brickwork) as it was intended by its builders, apart from the bitumen coating on the ˜rst tier (Koldewey 1911: 57; see also Allinger-Csollich 1998: 103) and the blue-glazed bricks that were not found in situ. Because of this, Robert Koldewey (who carried out the ˜rst properly scienti˜c excavations at Babylon in 1902) concluded from his visit to Birs Nimr¿d that the alleged color distinction between the stages was nothing but fantasy (1911: 58). Most recently, the Austrian excavators working at Borsippa between 1980 and 1996 (Allinger-Csollich 1998) have not discerned any signi˜cant diêrence in the colors of the core brickwork. Aside from the black and the blue exterior decoration, it seems clear that the color diêrences perceived by Rawlinson in the interior were due to the accident of using diêrent batches of bricks, varying in color either because of the clay source used and/or the degree of ˜ring. To conclude, it appears that wishful thinking misled Henry Rawlinson in his interpretation of Birs Nimr¿d, reading Nizami’s colors into the ruins. The only colors supported by archaeological evidence are the black and blue of the exterior decoration. That the latter was clearly not produced by ˜ring a whole stage of the ziggurat follows from Nebuchadrezzar’s cylinder, which, though fragmentary, states with respect to the ziggurat at Babylon: “with glazed bricks of pure blue color I raised it to its summit” (trans. Beaulieu 2000: 310).7 The same text, among others, also con˜rms that the Babylonians decorated temples with precious metals: “I applied shining gold (glaze) instead of plaster. Ezida I built anew and with silver, gold, choice gems, copper, musukkanu-wood (and) cedar-wood, I completed its work.” Additional examples could be supplied. The Rise and Fall of Astral Interpretations Despite the manifest ˘aws in Henry Rawlinson’s understanding of Birs Nimr¿d, it was accepted quite uncritically by many leading orientalists of the late-nineteenth to early-twentieth centuries.8 A paradigm had been set for the interpretation of ziggurats. Henry Rawlinson’s notion that the Babylonians possessed advanced knowledge of the planets was promulgated by his brother George Rawlinson (1879: 571–79) and spawned a plethora of “astral” interpretations of Mesopotamian myth and religion. By the early 1900s, these were ˘ourishing in a—largely German—movement referred to as PanBabylonianism (Schmidt 1972: 97–102; Parpola 2004). Its central tenet was that the Babylonians were extremely accomplished astronomers, who had invented the zodiac as early as 3000 BC and possessed not only sophisticated mathematical learning and an accurate calendar, but knowledge of such matters as the phases of Venus and even the precession of the equinoxes. Notable early critics of Rawlinson included Jensen, who objected that the alleged Borsippa correspondences could not be meaningfully applied to the sequence of decorative colors found on the Khorsabad ziggurat (1890: 143; see below); and Jastrow, who outrightly rejected any association of these colors with planets (1898: 618). Scepticism appeared to be warranted when, only a few years afterwards, Koldewey’s inspection of the ruins of Birs Nimr¿d repudiated Rawlinson’s claim that diêrent colors could be discerned in the brickwork of the various stages. By the mid-twentieth century, mention of Rawlinson’s planetary color scheme for Borsippa was fading from the literature, and along with it the very idea that there was a link between seven-staged ziggurats and the planets. More broadly, Pan-Babylonianism turned out to be a remarkably short-lived trend in scienti˜c history. By the early-twentieth century, it was failing to sustain broadsides from a number of critics, including, most notably, the brilliant Jesuit scholar Franz Xavier Kugler (1907). Its

7. Whether this passage implies that blue-glazed bricks decorated the actual summit of this building is unclear. 8. E.g., Budge (1884: 13–14); Sayce (1887: 115); Jeremias (1911: 17).

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excesses of interpretation were rightly exposed, but the resulting embarrassment meant that scholarship drew in its horns generally with respect to astral interpretations of Mesopotamian religion. It has yet to fully recover from the backlash (see Parpola 2004).9 The Ziggurats of Khorsabad and Ur The issue might have been entirely laid to rest, were it not for the fact that Herodotus’s sequence of colors appears to have been largely con˜rmed by archaeological work at the sites of Khorsabad and Ur. Sargon II (721–705 BC) founded Khorsabad (D¿r †arrukÿn) in Assyria.10 A French team that explored its ziggurat in the mid-nineteenth century uncovered four surviving levels. The excavators, Victor Place and Felix Thomas, discovered that these stages were still partly covered with colored stucco— the lowest stage white, the second black, the third reddish purple, the fourth blue (1870: 79). Among the ruins, they reported numerous fragments of enamelled bricks colored vermilion, silver-gray, and gold. They took this as proof that there had been three further stages to the ziggurat, decorated with these colors.11 It did not go unremarked that the whole array matches the very colors listed by Herodotus (Babelon 1906: 74–75), allowing that vermilion (a vivid red or orange-red) is equivalent to Herodotus’s sandarákinos (or light red—see n. 1 above).12 The precise order in which the hypothetical upper stages would have appeared remains conjectural, but it seems reasonable to suppose that they continued Herodotus’s sequence, ˜rst because of the good match provided by the colors of the four surviving levels, and second because the placement of the most expensive decoration—silver and gold on top—makes good sense in purely practical terms, making it extremely plausible that the vermilion stucco belonged to the ˜fth tier. Place and Thomas’s observations were largely con˜rmed by the twentieth-century excavations of Khorsabad. Henri Frankfort, one of the excavators, gave the colors of the extant stages as follows: There were actually three stages, and part of the fourth was preserved. . . . Each of them was eighteen feet high and decorated with recesses; each was painted a diêrent colour: the lowest white, the next black, the third red, and the fourth white. (1970: 78–79)

As for the last, Frankfort allowed that this was: “Perhaps bleached blue, for the succession of colours of the three lowest stages correspond with Herodotus’s report on the tower of Babylon [sic], where the fourth stage was blue.”13 Frankfort was evidently working from his own observations, for had he relied on Place and Thomas solely he would have simply given blue for the fourth color. 9. Perhaps the nadir of astral interpretation was Jacobsen’s understanding that the deity Inanna originated as the “numen of the date storehouse” (1976: 135), with her well-documented astral aspects (relating to the planet Venus, the star Sirius, and cometary imagery) being of secondary importance. More recent research has shown that the association of Inanna with a celestial body, probably Venus, is apparent not only from the early-second millennium BC (Heimpel 1982: 10–11) but from the very earliest Sumerian (Archaic) texts of the late-fourth millennium BC (Szarzynska 1993: 9–10). 10. Interestingly, Deioces of Media, the traditional founder of Ecbatana, may well have been a contemporary of Sargon II. For the various dates ascribed to Deioces see Scurlock (1990); Henige (2004). 11. “Chacun des sept étages de l’Observatoire était peint d’une couleur particulière. La peinture des quatre premiers étages se voyait encore sur la ruine; celle des trois autres a été restituée, avec les étages eux-mêmes, et suivant les données que nous avons déjà fait connaître. Les sept couleurs, blanche, noire, rouge, bleue, vermillon, argent et or, sont de larges teintes plates, hautes chacune de 6 mètres . . .” (Place and Thomas 1870: 79). 12. Place and Thomas must have had reasons to opt for such a technical word, rather than “orange” or “rouge,” especially given that Thomas was an artist. Vermilion represents the brighter end of the red spectrum, gravitating towards the orange. The analogy with Herodotus’s sandarákinos is therefore close. 13. Herodotus, of course, did not report colored stages for the ziggurat of Babylon. Frankfort’s uncharacteristically sloppy remark here is compounded by another in the same volume, where blue has even changed position (1970: 52): “Babylon, where Herodotus observed that each of the seven stages had a diêrent colour, the uppermost being blue.” A similar mistake was made by Woolley (1954: 219).

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Evidence of colored stages has also been retrieved from the ziggurat at Ur. In its original form, as constructed by Ur-Namma and his son †ulgi (ca. 2100–2050 BC) of the Third Dynasty of Ur, the tower consisted of four stages. According to its excavator, Sir Leonard Woolley, the Neo-Babylonian king Nabonidus (555–539 BC) expanded the building into seven stages, leaving only the ˜rst level of the original intact (1925: 219; 1939: 135–43). In his initial report, Woolley summed up his ñdings: The shrine, as we have seen, was bright blue, shining in the sun. The top was red: it was built of large lightly ˜red bright red bricks and was covered with plaster of the same colour. Below this the whole ziggurat, walls and steps alike, was black, the brickwork covered with a thin coat of bitumen applied with a brush. Below this again was the white-washed columned wall of the court. (1925: 14)

Here Woolley connected the blue bricks with a shrine forming the fourth stage but in his ñal report (1939: 141) the blue is assigned to the shrine at the hypothetical seventh stage of the ziggurat. The matter is inconclusive because the bricks were not found in situ. In an accompanying note, Gadd invited comparison with the colors found at Khorsabad, con˜rming en passant the validity of Place’s reconstruction (in Woolley 1925: 14 n. 1 and 1939: 142 n. 1). Ecbatana: A Fresh Approach Although Rawlinson’s analysis cannot in any way be used as a yardstick by which to assess the value of Herodotus’s Ecbatana account, the archaeological evidence from Khorsabad and Ur warrants a reinvestigation of a possible connection between ziggurat colors and planets—especially as the planetcolor associations argued by Rawlinson have left an indelible mark on the literature, notably in disciplines other than Assyriology and despite the decline of Pan-Babylonianism (see, e.g., Golzio 1983: 56– 57). The matter is somewhat tangled, but one that we trust is worth the unravelling. In the following pages, the respective presuppositions of Rawlinson’s argument will be reexamined in this order: in architecture: • whether it is legitimate to compare the legendary “battlements” (promacheonés) of the royal citadel complex of Ecbatana to the stages of a ziggurat; • whether some ziggurats consisted of seven stages; • whether Babylonian architects, at least at some point, worked with a prescribed color system in the decoration of ziggurats; in astronomy: • whether Babylonian astronomers had a concept of seven planets, grouping the Sun and Moon together with the ˜ve “proper” ones; • whether they assigned a speci˜c symbolical color to each of the planets; and hence: • whether the respective stages of certain Babylonian ziggurats represented planets. To begin with the ˜rst, the common assumption since Rawlinson’s time has been that the tradition of the seven-colored battlements of Ecbatana may have arisen from con˘ation with the tiers of a ziggurat (see, e.g., How and Wells 1912: 104; Singor 1992: 408). From an archaeological perspective, the battlements story has always seemed unlikely. Moreover, there was a long tradition of ziggurat building in the Iranian world, of which a striking example is that at Choga Zanbil (thirteenth century BC) in Elam (Potts 1999: 223–26). The tradition continued through Neo-Assyrian times (e.g., the ziggurat at Susa described and depicted by Assurbanipal; Parrot 1949: 47–48), while the tomb of the sixth-century


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Persian king Cyrus (allegedly a descendant of Deioces) is like a miniature seven-tiered ziggurat, with the temple-shaped tomb placed on a series of six plinths (Parrot 1949: 50–51). In this light, it is legitimate to compare the seven colors given by Herodotus for the battlements of Ecbatana to the sevencolored stages of ziggurats. The Seven-Tiered Ziggurats Turning to the second question, Gadd (in Woolley 1925: 14 n. 1 and 1939: 142 n. 1) countered Rawlinson’s planetary theory with the objection that ziggurats often had less than seven stages, commonly three or four. Indeed they did, but this does not preclude the possibility that ziggurats with seven stages may at some point have exempli˜ed an idealized prototype. No intact examples of ziggurats have been found, and, as we have seen, their poor condition typically does not permit con˜dence about the original number of stages. Nonetheless, in some excavated examples of the ˜rst millennium BC, it has been surmised that seven was the original number of tiers. At Borsippa, for example, Allinger-Csollich counted ˜ve stages in the ruins of Nebuchadrezzar’s restoration, but allowed for the possibility of two additional top stages that left no archaeological remains (1998: 103). At Ur, Woolley discovered three or four stages (depending on whether the white court is included in the count), but, on the basis of architectural projections, he suggested that Nabonidus’s intention had been to transform the existing structure into one of seven stages.14 At Khorsabad only four stages were discerned, but Frankfort thought it reasonable that there had been three further stages, as the height of the structure would then have matched the base “and this was, according to Strabo, the case in Babylon” (1970: 79).15 Reconstructions aside, what do iconography and texts tell us about the number of stages? Parrot’s survey includes numerous illustrations, for example, a three-tiered structure on an Old Babylonian cylinder seal, four- to ˜ve-tiered towers on Assyrian cylinder seals, and the ˜ve-tiered ziggurat of Susa on a relief sculpture depicting Assurbanipal’s Elamite campaign (1949: 37–50). In addition, a considerable body of literary and pictorial evidence documents the concept of a ziggurat with seven stages: 1.

2.

The so-called Esagila tablet from Uruk (AO 6555), ˜rst noticed by George Smith in 1876, dates to 229 BC (Parrot 1949: 22–24.; Wiseman 1991: 71) and is now also known from a partial duplicate in the British Museum (BM 40813); they are thought to be copies of an original no later than the early-seventh century BC (George 2005/2006: 75, 78; Allinger-Csollich 1998: 290–94). This sets out the dimensions of the temple tower Etemenanki (é . t e m e n . a n . k i) of the Esagila complex in Babylon, which was completed by Nebuchadrezzar II. Seven stages are described, with their respective dimensions (AO 6555 ll. 36–42). The height of the structure is equal to the base, a fact supporting Strabo’s statement and Frankfort’s deduction regarding the original height of the ziggurat at Khorsabad. George (2005/2006: 77, 86) regards it as “an ideal of how the tower was meant to look,” not “a physical survey of a built structure.” A broken Neo-Babylonian stele (MS 2063) in the Schøyen Collection depicts a king, apparently Nebuchadrezzar II, “standing before a seven-storey ziqqurrat drawn in outline and labelled [é] . t e m [e n] . a n . k i [z] i - q ú - r a - a t b a b i l i (k á . d i n g i r . r a)ki ‘E-temen-anki, ziqqurrat of Babylon.’ The tower is as high as it is wide.” (George 2005/2006: 79).

14. Woolley’s considerations (1939: 137–41) included the distinct changes made by Nabonidus’s builders to the lower levels, calculations from the amount of debris covering the ruins, suggesting that it originally stood to a considerable height, the layout of the ˘ights of stairs and their angles, plus an idealized plan providing the best symmetry possible. 15. See Strabo, Geog., 16.1.5, where the “tomb of Belus” (Belou táphos) is described as a quadrangular structure a stadion both in length and height.

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3.

4.

5.

6. 7.

8.

9.

Around 430 BC, Herodotus (Hist. 1.181.3) reported eight stages for the temple of “Zeus Belus” in Babylon, which can only have been the Etemenanki. Comparison with #1 and #2 shows that Herodotus’s count was inaccurate, but it is easy to think of plausible explanations for the apparent discrepancy (George 2005/2006: 76 n. 2; Drews 1973: 180 n. 118). A Late Babylonian tablet from Babylon (BM 38217; Wiseman 1972; 1991: 71; Allinger-Csollich 1998: 316–19) depicts the six lowest stages of a ziggurat. Wiseman showed that the top of the tablet, broken oˆ, most likely showed a seventh level whose dimensions formed a cube. An unprovenanced fragmentary Babylonian tablet in Berlin (VAT 8322 + 12886), of uncertain date, gives a drawing of six concentric squares. Jakob-Rost (1984) read the inscription on the upper margin of the tablet as the “ziggurat of Marduk,” suggesting that the assumed temple on top of the structure counted as the seventh stage and wondering if the plan could have represented the ziggurat of Borsippa or an earlier form of the one at Babylon. More recently, George (2005/2006: 76) has disputed this reading, though allowing that the diagram is “in any case, clearly schematic” and may have represented at least an idealized ziggurat. As seen, the name of the ziggurat at Borsippa (é . u r4 . (m e) . i m i n . a n . k i) may imply a sevenfold structure. A fragmentary tablet from Nippur now kept in Jena (HS 200a; Oelsner 1984, 1989) gives the ˘oorplan of a building in the form of seven concentric squares with proportionally decreasing dimensions. The inscription does not identify the edi˜ce, but Suter (1997: 5–6) convincingly argues that it can hardly have been intended for anything other than a ziggurat. While Oelsner thought the palaeography may suggest the Old Babylonian or Kassite period, Suter (1997: 6) has proposed an Ur III date. The ziggurat of Istar at Uruk was called (é) . g i6 . p à r . i m i n . (n a / b i), “house of seven giparu’s” (George 1993: 93 s.v. #384), giparu meaning the residence of the high priestess (Weadock 1975). A passage in the Temple Hymns (16.201–202) arguably refers to this structure when it characterizes Eanna as é . u b . i m i n, “house with seven corners” (ETCSL 4.80.1) or “of seven niches” (George 1993: 154 s.v. #1154). In practice, it is hard to conceive how else a building with seven “corners,” “niches,” or “angles” (Hübner and Reizammer 1985: 1092–93 s.v. “ub I,” “ub II,” “ub III,” “ub IV’) could have been realized architecturally other than in the form of seven stages, unless it were a heptagon (as translated in Edzard 1997: 143). A byname given by Gudea, ruler of Lagas (ca. 2100 BC), to the é.PA of Ningirsu, either at Girsu or at Lagas, was é . u b . i m i n, “house of seven niches” (George 1993: 94 s.v. #393; 154 s.v. #1154, #1155) or “of seven corners” (Sjöberg and Bergmann 1969: 91–92), the same name as that given to the Eanna at Uruk (see #8). It has long been thought that the é.PA was a ziggurat (Barton 1923, but see Falkenstein 1996: 132–34).

The cumulative eêct of this evidence is di¯cult to brush aside. It would appear that, possibly as early as the late-third millennium BC, the ziggurat in optima forma consisted of seven tiers. Even if, in some cases, the original intention had been to build ziggurats of seven stages, this may not always have been possible for architectural and economic reasons, in the same way that European cathedrals have not always been brought to completion (see George 2005–2006: 86). As a further analogy, hundreds of medieval churches were carefully aligned to the cardinal points, but the fact that just as many were not does not disprove the former. Similarly, solar alignments were built into the layout of Stonehenge, but while this may suggest that one of its functions was a Sun temple, this hardly applies by default to every circle of standing stones in prehistoric Britain. It only demonstrates diêrences in the priorities of the builders. Diêrent Mesopotamian cities were “owned” by distinct gods, and there may have been complex theological and as yet unfathomed reasons for building towers with diêring numbers of stages. Short


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Ziggurats and Colors The next step is to reevaluate the possible association of the tiers of the ziggurat to colors. To what extent might a uniform pattern of colors have been at work in the design and decoration of ziggurats, particularly those erected or refurbished in the ˜rst millennium BC? At Khorsabad, Place and Thomas (allowed by Frankfort) found the sequence white – black – red – blue. This matches exactly that at Ur, if one includes the white courtyard as Woolley did: “The four colours in their order, white, black, red, and blue” (1925: 14). The same sequence may also have underlain the arrangement at Borsippa, where, despite other uncertainties, we know that the base was black and that blue-glazed bricks once decorated a higher stage (see above). Though limited, the evidence raises the possibility that a consensus color scheme was employed in the decoration of ziggurats during the ˜rst millennium BC—at least with respect to the relative order of the colors white, black, red, and blue. This is, of course, the very sequence given by Herodotus for the four outermost “battlements” of Ecbatana, reviving the question of whether his account may, after all, have re˘ected a blueprint from the Neo-Babylonian period. With regard to the remaining colors in the Ecbatana sequence (light red, silver, and gold), one should not be too skeptical given that Place and Thomas reported the discovery of glazed tiles around the Khorsabad ruin sporting these very colors. Further, the restriction of silver and gold decoration to the topmost stages is credible enough, for purely practical considerations. As it happens, silver and gold are mentioned in characters drawn at the center of the seven-staged ziggurat plan on the Jena tablet (Suter 1997: 5). Instead of Suter’s hunch that these signify some sort of treasure preserved in the building, they could have been the intended colors of the top two levels of the ziggurat, if only to a token degree. The alleged color sequence discerned by Rawlinson at Borsippa ˘atly contradicted that given by Herodotus, with the result that he was tempted to “correct” the tradition regarding Ecbatana. A hundred and ˜fty years of further archaeological research have produced a very telling result. We have seen that Rawlinson’s color scheme at Borsippa was largely imaginary. By contrast, the Ecbatana tradition has been partly con˜rmed by the evidence from other sites (Khorsabad and Ur). A reexamination of the possible meaning of this color sequence (hereafter “the Ecbatana/ziggurat sequence”), especially where it has been con˜rmed by excavation, is thus long overdue. Aside from the placement of precious metals on the topmost levels and the protective function of the bitumen at the base, it is hard to imagine any practical reason for the positioning of the other (betterattested) colors, namely, white, red, and blue. All the more since they appear to have occurred in a ˜xed sequence. One understandably turns, therefore, to the likelihood that their arrangement had some religious or cosmological signi˜cance. But did this concern a sequence of planets, as Rawlinson had assumed?

Intermezzo: Rawlinson’s Sources As Graeco-Roman astronomers have long been known to have linked the respective planets to speci˜c colors (see conveniently Boll 1916: 20)—primarily based on their appearance—Rawlinson’s assumption, in his day, that the Babylonians matched colors to planets, is in general perfectly reasonable. Yet to what extent can his sources be said to be representative of Babylonian astronomy? Rawlinson’s statement that “Herodotus’ story [regarding Ecbatana] was a fable of Sabaean origin” (1841: 127) implies anachronistically that the Sabaeans, a gnostic sect of northern Syria, predated Herodotus. In addition, and by his own admission, Rawlinson relied almost exclusively on the twelfthcentury AD poet Nizami for an alleged Sabaean tradition, and even this source he did not follow consistently. Speci˜cally, Rawlinson elected to assign the colors yellow and silver to Venus and the Moon (1861: 21), instead of Nizami’s white and green (Wilson 1924).

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There is a more fundamental problem with Rawlinson’s reliance on Nizami. Rawlinson may not have been unjusti˜ed in his belief that the Sabaeans of Harran had inherited a measure of ancient Mesopotamian planet lore; their eclectic religion comprised a mixture of hermeticism, Jewish gnosticism, Neo-Platonism, and indigenous Assyrian beliefs (Green 1992). But was Nizami a reliable mouthpiece of Sabaean traditions? It seems unlikely. Nizami’s Haft Paikar was not a work on astrology, but a romance and, although contemporary with the Sabaeans, Nizami’s background was Azerbaijani. A far more reliable, though later, witness to the Sabaeans would be the Arab geographer al-Dimasqÿ († 1327 AD), who gave a detailed description of the pagan temples of Harran, including the statues, colors, and metals associated with each of the seven planet gods venerated there (Nuhbat al-Dahr, 1.10.1–8; 2.4.1, trans. Mehren 1874: 41–47; 71; see also Chwolsohn 1856: 381–96).16 His writings, together with those of the tenth-century AD scholar al-Nihawandÿ (apud Ibn al-»awzÿ, in Hjärpe 1972: 69–88), reveal the following sequence of correspondences between planets, colors, and metals: Saturn black lead

Jupiter green tin

Mars red iron

Sun gold gold

Venus blue / white copper

Mercury brown mercury

Moon silver / white silver

Thus, Rawlinson’s alleged “Sabaean” colors compare very poorly with those known from more representative sources. There are only four matches (Sun, Moon, Saturn, Mars), but there is complete disagreement on Jupiter (Rawlinson: red; Harran: green), Venus (Rawlinson: yellow; Harran: blue/white), and Mercury (Rawlinson: blue; Harran: brown). It transpires that Rawlinson’s much-vaunted “Sabaean” system was not Sabaean at all. Rawlinson’s cavalier approach to the archaeology of Birs Nimr¿d was thus compounded by use of inappropriate source material. In addition, when reconstructing the colors at Borsippa, Rawlinson invoked “the well known [planetary] order of Saturn, Jupiter, Mars, Sol, Venus, Mercury, and the Moon. . . .” But well known to whom? This was in fact the “Ptolemaic” sequence prevailing in late Hellenistic and Roman times, which was often referred to as the “Chaldaean” order of planets (Evans 1998: 348–49; Neugebauer 1975: 691). The placement of the Sun in the center of the sequence re˘ects a quasi-heliocentric system, which the consensus of scholarship would not date any earlier than the second century BC, certainly not in a Babylonian context. The Rawlinsons never addressed this chronological di¯culty, believing that the Babylonians . . . had notions not far from the truth with respect to the relative distance from the earth of the sun, moon, and planets . . . probably based upon a knowledge, more or less exact, of the periodic times which the several bodies occupy in their (real or apparent) revolutions. From the diêrence in the times the Babylonians assumed a corresponding diêrence in the size of the orbits, and consequently a greater or less distance from the common centre. (Rawlinson 1879: 577)

Yet the only evidence oêred for such claims, bordering on circularity, was that “the arrangement of the great temple at Borsippa . . . is a su¯cient proof. . . .” The Pan-Babylonianists, who followed the Rawlinsons’ leads in many respects, are generally guilty of having back-projected Hellenistic concepts into earlier times (Parpola 2004: 239). Counting Seven Planets Despite the weakness of Rawlinson’s case, his core idea of linking a seven-tiered ziggurat with the notion of seven planets is still worthy of examination. While it is often overlooked, it is clear that Baby16. Long before Rawlinson, al-Dimasqÿ (1.10.11) curiously attributed the Sabaean belief system to the “Chaldaeans.”

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lonian astronomers did conceptualize a grouping of seven planets (Horowitz 1998: 153; Reiner 1995: 4). Although their astronomical texts tend to exclude the Sun and the Moon from lists of planets, a number, ranging from the MUL.APIN to the Seleucid era, group all seven bodies together. MUL.APIN (ca. 1000 BC, but see Geller 1990) states that the Sun, Jupiter, Venus, Mars, Mercury and Saturn, respectively, all travel “the (same) path the Moon travels,” concluding with the words: “Together six gods who have the same positions, (and) who touch the stars of the sky and keep changing their positions” (II i 1–8, trans. Hunger and Pingree 1989: 70–71).17 Thus as Horowitz (1998: 172) observes, “all seven ancient planets were to be found along a single band of the sky.” The so-called Great Star List (Neo-Assyrian; ll. 242–244, trans. Koch-Westenholz 1995: 200–201) enumerates: “The moon and the sun Jupiter Venus / ‘Wild Sheep’: Saturn Mercury / Mars” and concludes with the summary statement “Seven planets.”18 The seven bodies are also listed together on two mid-seventh-century tablets from Nineveh, both of which list Moon – Sun – Jupiter – Venus – Saturn – Mercury – Mars (K. 2067, 19–21, in Weidner 1915: 19–20; K. 4386 = A n - t a - g á l, G. 303–309, ed. Cavigneaux et al. 1985: 229).19 The date of these attestations, unlike those in Seleucid texts (e.g., AO 6460 obv. 22–24, trans. Sachs 1969: 338; Rochberg-Halton 1988, 324–25, 328), precludes Greek in˘uence. Matching Planets and Colors In testing a possible link between ziggurat colors and planets, an obvious advantage today is that speci˜c associations between planets and colors can now be inferred directly from excavated texts unavailable in Rawlinson’s time. While Neo-Babylonian omen texts generally feature the planets in a variety of colors, depending on atmospheric and other conditions (e.g., for Venus; Reiner and Pingree 1998: 19), at least one text (K 2346 54) gives what appears to be a “standard” list of planetary colors: The white star is Jupiter, the Red Star is Mars, the Green star is Venus, the Black star is Saturn, variant: Mercury. (Reiner and Pingree 1998: 249; Brown 2000: 143)20

For three of these planets, the respective colors given are readily con˜rmed in other sources (Reiner and Pingree 1998: 248–49; Eilers 1976: 79–80, 93). A common Babylonian name for Jupiter was mulb a b b a r, “white star,”21 Mars, conspicuous for its redness, was known as mulSA5, “red star,” and Saturn, widely associated with black in the ancient world, is described in Babylonian texts as mulg í g, “dark star” or mulMI (see Gössmann 1950: 28).22 The color associations of Venus and Mercury require further discussion. As Sumerian and Akkadian made no distinction between green and blue (Landsberger 1967: esp. 139), the notion of a “green” Venus is arguably con˜rmed by the intimate association of the goddess of Venus, Inanna-Istar, with lapis lazuli, a blue mineral that was valued in the cults of the gods generally, 17. The names used for these bodies are Sin, †amas, †ulpaea, Dilibat, Salbatanu, †ihtu sa Ninurta, and Kajamanu. 18. The respective terms are d30 u, du t u, ds u l . p a . è, m u l d i l . b a t, m u l u d u . i d i m, m u l s a g . u s, du d u . i d i m . g u4 . u d, and m u l S a l - b a t - a - n u, in all “7 m u l u d u . i d i m . m e s.” 19. The names used in A n - t a - g á l are dA.KU = ds i n (30), d kas-se-biGUD.LUGAL = dUTU, dda-pi-nu = ds u l - p a - è - a, d zibZIG = d d i l - b a t, dl u - l i m = dUDU.IDIM.SAG.U†, dbi-ib-bu = dUDU.IDIM.GU4.UD, and ds i - m u - u d = dSal-bat-a-nu. 20. The Sumerian terms are MUL BABBAR, “white star,” MUL SA5 “red star,” MUL SIG7, “green star” and MUL MI, “black star” or “dark star.” 21. Plato (Republic, 617a) alludes to Jupiter as the “whitest” (leukótatos) of the seven planets and to Venus as deúteron . . . leukóteti, the “second whitest.” Despite that, white has been assumed by many (from Rawlinson to Parpola) to correspond to Venus, even though there seems to be no Babylonian source ascribing this color to Venus, with the exception of one di¯cult omen text in which it is described as “white and black”; Reiner and Pingree propose that this simply refers to the planet being bright or obscured (1998: 19). 22. Similarly in India, Saturn was known as Kala, “the black one” (Eilers 1976: 93). Maimonides (Commentary on the Misna, ‘Abodah Zarah, 3.1, in Chwolsohn 1856: 485), too, described Saturn as black. See Ptolemy, Tetrabiblos 2.9; Nigidius Figulus, apud Lucan, Pharsalia 1.651–657; Celsus, apud Origen, Contra Celsum, 6.22.

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but among the planetary deities especially so with Istar. Many references can be found to support this. For example, in Inanna’s Descent to the Netherworld, when the goddess prepares for her descent she grasps a measuring rod and line of lapis lazuli and dons a necklace of two lapis lazuli beads (ll. 107, 113). When appealing to the gods Enlil, Nanna, and Enki to save her life, she repeatedly refers to herself as the stone: “Don’t let your precious lapis lazuli be split there with the mason’s stone.” (ll. 45, see also 54, 62, 187, 201, 214; trans. ETCSL 1.4.1) In the so-called Uruk text, Inanna is given the epithet “her of the lapis lazuli (gems)”; a date-gatherer presents her with lapis lazuli from the “gem-revealing heap” underneath a date-palm ( Jacobsen 1976: 34–35). Most importantly, a Kassite-period list of magical correspondences from Nippur, of which a partial Neo-Assyrian copy survives, directly links lapis lazuli (uqnû) with the planet Venus (dd i l i . b a t).23 Indeed, a blue/green color for the planet, whatever its rationale,24 is attested in at least one classical source25 and ethnographic sources from some other cultures with no demonstrable link to Mesopotamia.26 Mercury is associated with a red hue, in at least one Babylonian omen text: “If Venus wears a red crown—Mercury stands in front of her” (K. 148.13; Reiner and Pingree 1998: 58–59; Brown 2000: 60).27 Finally, the association of gold and silver with the Sun and Moon is universal and requires no further comment. To sum up, the following planet-color associations may be viewed as standard for Neo-Babylonian times: Jupiter (white), Mars (red), Venus (green/blue), Saturn (black), Mercury (red), Sun (gold), Moon (silver). The Ziggurat Planet Order? While the backlash against the Pan-Babylonianists has receded, allowing astral interpretations of Mesopotamian religion and myth to be discussed afresh, this time with more restraint (e.g., Heimpel 1986), discussion of a connection between the ziggurats and planetary astronomy has remained in the doldrums. It required the boldness of an eminent Assyriologist to raise the matter in recent years. Stressing the archaeological evidence, Parpola has revived the idea of a planetary meaning for the colors of the Khorsabad ziggurat and Ecbatana battlements: Remains of colouring on the ziggurat of the Assyrian capital city Dur-†arruken show that each of its stages was painted in a diêrent colour, the sequence of colours corresponding to the colouring of the seven concentric walls of Ecbatana in Herodotus I 98 (white, black, purple, blue, orange, gold, silver) and probably symbolizing the seven planetary spheres (Venus, Saturn, Mars, Mercury, Jupiter, Sun, and Moon). (1997: XCII; 2000: 199) 23. Livingstone (1986: 175–87, esp. 176–77). The collation (involving ˜ve manuscripts) given by Livingstone supersedes the incomplete version published by Langdon (1919: 330–43). 24. Venus easily shifts to the blue to the unaided eye. Livingstone (1986: 182) remarked: “Similarity in appearance may underlie connection of lapis lazuli with Venus.” 25. Pseudo-Callisthenes, Life of Alexander, 1.8 (Armenian and Syriac versions). 26. For example, one of the names assigned to Venus as evening star by the Mescalero Apache of New Mexico is suu ≥ s≥ bik? edalatl? izhe?, “star blue/green under it”; apparently, this “gives emphasis to the characteristic glow of color Apaches perceive to be a part of Venus.” (Farrer 1986: 60). The Mexican Annals of Cuauhtitlan (Codex Chimalpopoca, 3.56–4.2) report that the god Quetzalcoatl “was placed in his mother’s belly when she swallowed a piece of jade” (trans. Bierhorst 1992: 28). The same god was thought to have metamorphosed into Venus’s aspect as morning star, in the guise of a quetzal bird. (Codex Chimalpopoca, 7.27– 46.) The quetzal bird (Pharomachrus mocino) has red feathers on the chest, but green wings and tail feathers. 27. In this text, the various colors of Venus’s “crown” are ascribed to the in˘uence of occultating planets. The cuneiform for “red” is SA5. This is the same term as that used for Mars and in several texts of the same period also Jupiter (although the latter is never called “the red planet”), so in this text at least there is no distinction between “dark red” and “light red.” The connection of Mercury with red may relate to Plato’s (Republic 617a) quali˜cation of Mercury as xanthóteros, the comparative of xanthós, “yellow, of various shades, freq. with a tinge of red, brown, auburn . . .” (LSJ 1187 s.v. “xanqovÍ”; cf. the brown of the Sabaeans, above). Vettius Valens associated Mercury with ochrós (Boll 1916: 20), “pale, wan, of complexion . . . esp. pale-yellow, sallow . . .” (LSJ 2042 s.v. “w˚crovÍ”).

One Line Long


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Unfortunately, the detail of this proposal is subject to the objection raised by Jensen to Rawlinson’s theory in 1890 (above): the deduced sequence of planets is unrecognizable either in astronomical terms or in the planetary orders familiar from Assyro-Babylonian texts. But this is because Jensen (and Parpola, too) relied on the manifestly unreliable planet-color correspondences oêred by Rawlinson. Would a more intelligible order emerge if the planet-color associations given in cuneiform sources were applied to the Ecbatana/ziggurat sequence? The experimental result would be as follows: white Jupiter

black Saturn

dark red Mars

blue Venus

light red Mercury

silver Moon

gold Sun

A signi˜cant improvement on Rawlinson, this analysis relies on eighth- to seventh-century BC cuneiform sources contemporary with the construction of the ˜rst-millennium ziggurats. Intriguingly, the sequence reconstructed above produces a meaningful result in astronomical terms, as its constituents neatly fall into three groups: lowest are the outer planets ( Jupiter, Saturn, and Mars); then come the inner planets (Venus and Mercury); and uppermost are the two major luminaries (Moon and Sun). The position of the latter is perhaps supported by the single or double pair of horns reported to surmount some ziggurats.28 These possibly represent the crescent of the moon god Sîn, typically envisioned as a bull,29 or the sun god †amas, who could also be referred to as a bull.30 With respect to the ˜ve traditional planets, their order is astronomically “correct” from a geocentric perspective, except for the reversal of the two outermost planets, Saturn and Jupiter. Yet it can hardly be coincidence that this order including the inversion is identical to that given in the ˜rst/second century AD by pseudo-Eratosthenes (Catasterismi, 43) and in the late-˜rst century by Hyginus (Poetica Astronomica, 2.42).31 In switching the positions of Saturn and Jupiter, as compared to the standard systems in vogue in Greece from the fourth century BC onwards, this order is aberrant and possibly archaic. The astronomical ceilings known from Egyptian tombs from the mid- to late-second millennium BC reveal a sequence—like that reconstructed from the Ecbatana/ziggurat color order—which similarly distinguishes the outer from the inner planets and features the same reversal of Saturn and Jupiter, leaving Mars as the lowest of the outer planets: The usual order in which the planets appear on the monuments prior to the Graeco-Roman period is Jupiter, Saturn, Mars, Mercury and Venus, with the ˜rst three, the outer planets, separated from the last two, the inner planets, by . . . triangle decans . . . (Neugebauer and Parker 1969: 175, also 3; see also Clagett 1995: 124)

The Egyptian New Kingdom evidence thus refutes the possible objection that Babylonian astronomers of the eighth and seventh centuries BC could not yet have conceived a planetary order re˘ecting fairly accurate knowledge. The question of possible exchange of knowledge between Mesopotamia and Egypt on these matters will require further study. 28. “Bovine horns are depicted at the tops of ziggurats and other buildings throughout the ancient Near East . . .” (Horowitz 1998: 124) The locus classicus is En¿ma Elis VI.66, where with respect to the ziggurat built by Marduk, it states: “To the base of Esharra its horns look down” (Speiser 1969: 69; Horowitz 1998: 123). See also the reference in Assurbanipal’s “annals,” eighth campaign: “I destroyed the ziggurat of Susa, which was made of blue bricks. I cut oˆ its horns made of shining cast copper . . .” (Horowitz 1998: 124). A relief of Assurbanipal depicts the same ziggurat, formed of ˜ve tiers with two pairs of horns on top (Parrot 1949: 47–48). 29. E.g., Sîn’s epithet “the red wild bull” (Eilers 1976: 32). 30. E.g., Lugalbanda and Enmerkar (ll. 223–24), where Lugalbanda addresses the Sun as “Bright bull, emerging from heaven’s base” (Heimpel 1986: 143). In the Gilgamesh Epic (IV, Ha1 10–13; trans. George 1999: 37) Enkidu interprets the “wild bull” of a dream as †amas. 31. Some manuscripts of Hyginus also swap the names Phaenon and Phaethon, so that the usual Hellenistic assignment of Phaethon to Jupiter and of Phaenon to Saturn is restored, but Phaethon/Jupiter occupies the highest orbit (Le Boeu˙e 1983: 178 n. 7).

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Fig. 1. Planetary Pentagram. The Neo-Babylonian Planet Order A more serious objection to the hypothetical planet order reconstructed on the basis of ziggurat decoration would be that it con˘icts with the standard sequence of the ˜ve “proper” planets known from Neo-Babylonian astronomical texts (Brown 2000: 143; Rochberg-Halton 1988: 323, 327–28; Neugebauer 1975: 690):32 Jupiter – Venus – Saturn – Mercury – Mars The con˘ict here may only be apparent, however. As it happens, the Ecbatana ziggurat order can be correlated with the standard Neo-Babylonian sequence by means of a pentagram,33 by plotting either on the corners and reading along the diagonal lines (˜g. 1).34 Such a result is not a mere curiosity. It is well known that, in imperial Roman times, the sequence of the weekdays (by their tutelary deities) was derived from the quasi-heliocentric (“Chaldaean”) planet order then in vogue (Cassius Dio 37.18–19; Boll 1911: 372–75; Neugebauer 1957: 169; 1975: 691) by taking leaps of two. While the precise origins of this weekday system—still adhered to—remain shrouded in fog (Zerubavel 1985: 8–9; Sarton 1959:

32. The same sequence survived in Greek horia astrology (Rochberg-Halton 1988: 323). Variant orders are seen in MUL.APIN (II i 1–6: Sun – Jupiter – Venus – Mars – Mercury – Saturn, with the Moon) and during the Seleucid period ( Jupiter – Venus – Mercury – Saturn – Mars; e.g., TCL VI.41, 23–24, trans. Sachs 1969, 338; see Neugebauer 1975: 690; Rochberg-Halton 1988: 323; Brown 2000: 143). 33. As a symbol, the pentagram is known from the Uruk and Jemdet Nasr periods (Falkenstein 1936: 118–19 s.v. #453; Goˆ 1963: 77, 113). Intriguingly, the pentagram was the Sumerian sign for u b, ˜rst attested in the Uruk IV period and used for the “regions” or “corners” of the world (De Vogel 1966: 292). While, in relation to cardinal directions, these were most frequently counted as four, the names of some ziggurats testify to a notion of “seven corners” as well (see above). De Vogel concludes: “It is certain that the pentagram comes from Babylon. . . . The pentagram, perhaps originally a geometrical ˜gure, acquired a cosmic signi˜cance as early as in the third millennium B.C. (the connotation of heavenly region or quarter, already in the Fara texts, say c. 2600), while somewhat later it was connected with the planets” (1966: 292, 296). A heptagram shown on an intriguing late Babylonian tablet from Nippur was evidently used as a mathematical device of some sort (Horowitz 2006). Waerzeggers and Siebes have suggested it depicts the seven strings of the harp, while stressing “that the present interpretation of CBS 1766 rests on a number of emendations to the edition by W. Horowitz that could not yet be con˜rmed by collations” (2007: 45). Yet, even if the tablet concerns musical tuning, it is worth asking if this precludes an astronomical connotation, as originally considered by Hilprecht (1903: 530). 34. This approach was explored by Tetens (in Jensen 1886: 267; 1890: 133), Winckler (1905: 192–93), and Boll (1911: 373–75).


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Fig. 2. Planetary Heptagram. 326–33; Gandz 1948–1949: 215–16; Colson 1926: esp. 6, 18, 22), there is no doubt that it originated as a mathematical adaptation of the so-called Chaldaean order.35 Signi˜cantly, one way in which this adaptation could conveniently be visualized was the use of a heptagram (˜g. 2) as a graphic device (Winckler 1905: 192; Jeremias 1911: 43; Sarton 1959: 332–33). Although none of the extant textual sources spells this out, Hellenistic astrologers are known to have positioned the planets at the respective corners of a hexagon, with Bel or Jupiter in the center—in Palmyra, Zaghuan (Tunisia), and possibly Baalbek, where “the hexagonal court becomes a symbol of the days of the week and the month. . . .” (Brown 1939; Palmyrene image in Wood 1753: pl. XIX A). The quasi-heliocentric planetary system underlying the weekday order must, of course, have been known to the Babylonian astronomers of the Hellenistic (Seleucid) period, if only because a full-blown heliocentric (Aristarchean) model had been advocated by the Babylonian astronomer Seleucus in the second century BC (Sarton 1959: 295; Plutarch, Platonic Questions, 8.1 [1006C]). Yet neither this nor the earlier Platonic-Aristotelian geocentric order is attested in any extant cuneiform text. Instead, texts from this period continued to place Jupiter and Venus at the front of the sequence, as had been customary in the Neo-Babylonian period, while the relative positions of Mercury, Mars, and Saturn varied (RochbergHalton 1988: 325, 328). As Rochberg-Halton (1988: 323) notes, this positioning . . . has nothing to do with a spatial arrangement of the planets in the cosmos, in contrast to the following planetary arrangement in Greek astronomy and astrology: . The Greek model represents the order of the planets in

35. Zerubavel (1985: 14) quali˜ed “the astrological seven-day week” as “essentially a Hellenistic invention,” which “most probably evolved sometime during the second century B.C. at the very heart of the Hellenistic world, namely Alexandria,” almost concurrently with the Ptolemaic sequence itself.

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depth according to their periods of sidereal rotation. No such “natural” explanation can be oêred for the Babylonian sequence.

As Rochberg-Halton explains, the order typically followed in Seleucid literature is an astrological one, determined by the bene˜c and male˜c aspects of the respective planets (1988: 323–25; see also Neugebauer 1957: 169). This is amply illustrated by a Seleucid text that gives the following order of planets, with accompanying glosses: Jupiter (favorable)—Venus (calm)—Mercury (heroic)—Mars (ambiguous)—Saturn (dark, disturbed). The reasons behind these astrological associations are beyond the scope of the present study—though it must be signi˜cant that Jupiter and Venus are the two brightest planets, Saturn the dimmest—except to note that their origins well predate the Seleucid period.36 The astrological planetary order was used in all literary genres, not just the astronomical.37 That a scienti˜c order is unattested in Seleucid cuneiform texts, when astronomers must have been thoroughly aware of developments in “Greek” astronomy, suggests that it was proscribed for magico-religious reasons. In plain terms, a “taboo” appears to have been operating. One is reminded here of the secrecy of Egyptian and “Chaldaean” astronomers stressed by Strabo (Geog. 17.1.29). According to him, Greek access to “barbarian” knowledge of the planets was a protracted process. At ˜rst the information was deliberately withheld, rather “concealed,” by their savants, and only gradually revealed to those (like Eudoxus during his long sojourn in Egypt) who had the patience to “prevail upon them in time and by courting their favour,” This report is consistent with the so-called Geheimwissen formula attached to some Babylonian astrological tablets, according to which “knowledge of the contents of the tablet is reserved for the initiated, lit. ‘the one who knows,’ and that showing it to an uninitiated person is a crime as bad as destroying the tablet itself. . . . In a sense, all astrology, including the series En¿ma Anu Enlil, was certainly considered a part of the secrets of the great gods” (Koch-Westenholz 1995: 95). As the colophon of one tablet states, “Reading of (what has to do with) the great gods is the secret lore of Heaven and Earth. Reading the commentary is the secret lore of the scholars” (Ki 1904-10-9, 94: 26–30, in Koch-Westenholz 1995: 96). These considerations require us to reexamine the problem of the standard Neo-Babylonian order of the planets, which, like the Seleucid, conspicuously evades any “natural” explanation in terms of astronomical distance. As both the Neo-Babylonian and the Seleucid “auspicious” orders begin with Jupiter and Venus, one must accept Rochberg-Halton’s opinion that the same astrological thinking (that of bene˜c and male˜c planets) underlay both schemes. Given this, as in the case of the Seleucids, one should be wary of denying Neo-Babylonian scholars any interest in a diêrent, scienti˜c order of the planets—though such may not have been “written” it may have been encoded in the color decoration of ziggurats. In conclusion, while direct evidence is lacking for the planetary signi˜cance of the Ecbatana/ziggurat color sequence as reconstructed here, three lines of evidence strongly support it: (a) that it is meaningful in astronomical terms, (b) that it is similar to the planet order attested in some Greek and Latin writings and sources from the Egyptian New Kingdom, and (c) that the device of the pentagram apparently links it to the known standard planetary order of Neo-Babylonian times. There may be thus be good reason to reappraise the persistent tradition of the Greeks that they learnt about the planets from the Babylonians and Egyptians.38 This tradition con˘icts with the current understanding that the Greeks “invented” the concept of a planetary order based on relative distance, while the Babylonian view of

36. As Rochberg-Halton (1988: 328) observed, “the bare traces [of the schema] . . . are already found in apodoses of En¿ma Anu Enlil and its Old Babylonian forerunners.” See Rochberg-Halton (1988: 326) for the example of Mars. 37. “Regardless of textual genre, therefore, the planets were enumerated by convention. In my view, that convention was originally shaped by the underlying astrological schema identifying planets as either bene˜c or male˜c” (Rochberg-Halton 1988: 328). 38. See, e.g., Philip of Opus, Epinomis 986D–987D; Aristotle, Cael. 2.12 (292a8–9); Diodorus Siculus 2.30; Seneca, Nat. 7.3.1–2; Proclus, In Platonis Timaeum Commentarius, III.125.28–30.


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the stars was a purely arithmetical one, with the stars and planets all existing together on one undiêrentiated plane (Vernant 1983: 176–89; Rochberg-Halton 1988: 323; Lloyd 1991: 294–95; Pedersen 1993: 63; Evans 1998: 320). From “Heavens” to “Planetary Heavens” The case of the Neo-Babylonian ziggurats strongly suggests the concept of a sevenfold strati˜cation of the cosmos. Does any independent evidence support such a concept? In the literature on ziggurats, a fact that has often been overlooked is that Babylonian texts attest to a strati˜ed view of the heavens. While some texts describe the heavens as having three layers, respectively the Upper, Middle, and Lower Heavens (Horowitz 1998: 8–15), many others refer to “seven heavens” or “seven heavens and seven earths” (Horowitz 1998: 208–20, 244). The evidence largely comes from Sumerian incantations, known at least from the Old Babylonian period onwards. The motif is apparently re˘ected in later ( Jewish and Arab) traditions concerning seven superimposed ˜rmaments and underworlds. It would seem that the term “seven heavens and seven earths” relates to the layers of the sky and their infernal counterparts, respectively. Like the layered sky, the underworld was conceived as having seven zones, each guarded by its gateway and gatekeeper, as known from Inanna’s Descent to the Netherworld and Nergal and Ereskigal (contra Horowitz 1998: 358). The concept of “seven heavens” and “seven earths” could well have found its architectural expression in the seven-tiered ziggurats. In the annual Akÿtu ritual, Marduk was symbolically imprisoned in Etemenanki, as explicitly stated in Marduk’s Ordeal (VAT 9555+9538; ND 812(a), l. 13; Livingstone 1986: 236–37, also 212–13, l. 40): “[That which] they do [on] the ziggurat: Because the gods imprisoned him he disappeared and was held captive inside.” He was released from captivity by Nabû (ll. 8–9), the tutelary deity of astronomy to whom the Borsippa ziggurat was dedicated. This, in combination with Strabo’s reference (16.1.5) to the ziggurat of Babylon as the Belou táphos, the “tomb of Belus [Marduk],” indicated to many scholars, though not all, that Marduk’s enacted imprisonment can be seen in terms of a ritual death scheme, suggesting that the ziggurat acted as a representation of the underworld (Pallis 1926: 102–10, 243; Frankfort 1948: 322–23; Livingstone 1986: 230–31; Naydler 2005: 56; more generally, Busink 1938: 48–49; but see Bidmead 2002: 87).39 That there was an infernal component to the symbolism of ziggurats may also be inferred from the use of the Sumerian word k u r both for a mountain and for the underworld (e.g., Katz 2003: 110), as ziggurats were often conceived as forms of a cosmic mountain (Busink 1938: 48–49; Walton 1995: 159– 62). Indeed, in Marduk’s Ordeal (ll. 6, 7), the place where the messenger comes to ñd Marduk is described as the h u r - s a - a n or “mountain” (Pallis 1926: 221–22, 242).40 The question remains whether and when ziggurats, as a model of a sevenfold cosmos, may have become connected with the planets.41 As seen, analysis of the ziggurat/Ecbatana sequence indicates that by Neo-Babylonian times the planets could have been associated with seven-tiered ziggurats. The

39. In keeping with this, Parpola opined that the seven stages of a ziggurat symbolized the seven gates of the underworld (2000: 199) and that “through its seven-staged colouring the ziggurat is associated both with the rainbow and the descent and ascent of Istar” (1997: XCII). If Inanna’s ziggurat at Uruk did indeed have seven stages, as suggested above (#8 in the list of seven-staged ziggurats), this raises the possibility that the narrative of the goddess’s descent, in which she is gradually divested of garments and ornaments referred to as me, accompanied a ritual performed on this ziggurat. 40. Livingstone’s translation “the place of the river ordeal” is less literal (1986: 237). Gelb et al. (1965: 253–54), s.v. “hursanu A (hursanu),” give hursanu as “mountain.” 41. If the color scheme of ziggurats symbolized a planetary order, it remains as yet unclear why the outermost planets would have been associated with the bottom and not the top of the structure. At the very least, such an arrangement would conveniently have allowed the topmost stages, decorated with the most costly ornaments, to be dedicated to the two major luminaries.

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respective stages of the ziggurat may not have been associated with individual planets from the start, but a tendency to do just that may well have developed in subsequent times, culminating in a ˜rst-millennium trend of ziggurats with seven “planetary” colors. It would be simplistic to argue that ˜rst-millennium ziggurats were built mainly or even largely to represent the seven planets. Yet even if this was not the primary function of ziggurats, some may have acquired such symbolism over time, as a “bonus” coming on top of the more fundamental associations such as those with the cosmic mountain or the underworld. Conclusions We have come a long way from our starting point, which was to reassess the meaning of Herodotus’s description of the colored “battlements” built by Deioces at Median Ecbatana about 700 BC. It was Herodotus’s account that inspired Henry Rawlinson to investigate the possibility that the speci˜ed colors spelled out a sequence of planets and that this could provide a major clue to ancient astronomical knowledge. It was a potentially brilliant insight. Yet when he applied it to Borsippa, Rawlinson eêctively demolished his own case by an over-imaginative interpretation of the archaeology and an inappropriate use of a color sequence from an allegedly “Sabaean” tradition, leading him to an absurd position where he had to throw into doubt the order given by Herodotus. Had more cuneiform sources been available to him, he may well have come to a diêrent conclusion, that is, that a Neo-Babylonian color-planet order matching that of Ecbatana was applied to ziggurat architecture. Our reinvestigation has led to three key insights, which are valid independently of each other, namely, that the Assyro-Babylonians did conceive of seven-tiered ziggurats; that the stages of some ziggurats were decorated in diêrent colors; and that a particular symbolical color was assigned to each of the planets. These three threads may have converged into a single system during the ˜rst millennium BC. Without any doubt, a very similar planet order to that reconstructed here for the Neo-Babylonian period existed much earlier in Egypt, in which the outer and inner planets were correctly distinguished. The implications for the development of Greek knowledge of the solar system are considerable, restoring con˜dence in the Greek claim that their knowledge of the planets derived from the ancient Near East. Such questions—in a post-Pan-Babylonianist phase of scholarship—need serious reexamination. The Babylonians and Egyptians seem to have shared a model of a strati˜ed cosmos that involved a rudimentary concept of planetary distance and, at the very least, the distinction between inner and outer planets. This may have represented a large part of the knowledge gift for which Greek thinkers felt so indebted. The Greek contribution to these matters would not, then, have been the perception of the universe in geometric terms per se (planetary distance), but the introduction of circular geometry in terms of planetary orbits, to which the names of Pythagoras and Parmenides have traditionally been attached.42 Once introduced, the idea of circular orbits (rather than simple strati˜cation) led to the growth of planetary astronomy proper. The resolution of a “minor” puzzle of archaeoastronomy, namely, Rawlinson’s interpretation of the Ecbatana colors, may thus have wider rami˜cations for the history of astronomy than one might expect. Acknowledgments This article could not have been completed without the invaluable support of the Mainwaring Archive Foundation and the Caeno Foundation. We are also extremely grateful to Simo Parpola, Mark 42. Diogenes Laertius, Life of Pythagoras, 25–26, 48; Life of Parmenides, 21; see also Theo of Smyrna, Mathematics, 150.18; Van der Waerden (1979: 445, 453). For a discussion of the pioneers in the related concept of a spherical cosmos, see Kahn (1970).


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Geller, Claudia Suter, John Bimson, Ev Cochrane, Nick Thorpe, and an anonymous JCS referee for reading drafts and providing comments, extra references and encouragement; to Wilfrid AllingerCsollich, Andrew George, Alan Gri¯ths, Baruch Halpern, Hermann Hunger, Joachim Marzahn, and Wilfred van Soldt for providing information and answering questions; and to Seong Hee Jo for help with the illustrations. References Allinger-Csollich, W. 1998 Birs Nimrud II. “Tieftempel”—“Hochtempel”: Vergleichende Studien Babylon—Borsippa. BaM 29: 95–330. Averbeck, R. E. 2000 The Cylinders of Gudea (2. 155). Pp. 417–33 in The Context of Scripture, Vol. 2: Monumental Inscriptions from the Biblical World, eds. W. W. Hallo and K. L. Younger. Leiden: Brill. Babelon, E. 1906 Manual of Oriental Antiquities. London: Grevel. Barton, G. A. 1923 The Form and Nature of E-Pa at Lagash. JAOS 43: 92–95. Beaulieu, P. A. 2000 Nebuchadnezzar II’s Restoration of E-Urimin-Ankia, The Ziggurat of Borsippa (2.122b). Pp. 309–10 in The Context of Scripture, Vol. 2: Monumental Inscriptions from the Biblical World, eds. W. W. Hallo and K. L. Younger. Leiden: Brill. Bidmead, J. 2002 The Akÿtu Festival; Religious Continuity and Royal Legitimation in Mesopotamia. Gorgias Dissertations: Near Eastern Studies 2. Piscataway, NJ: Gorgias. Bierhorst, J. 1992 History and Mythology of the Aztecs: The Codex Chimalpopoca. Tucson: The University of Arizona Press. Boll, F. 1911 Zur babylonischen Planetenordnung. Zeitschrift für Assyriologie und verwandte Gebiete 25: 372–76. 1916 Antike Beobachtungen farbiger Sterne. Abhandlungen der Königlichen Bayerischen Akademie der Wissenschaften: Philosophisch-philologische und historische Klasse 30.1. Munich: Königlich Bayerischen Akademie der Wissenschaften. Brown, D. 2000 Mesopotamian Planetary Astronomy-Astrology. CM 18. Groningen: Styx. Brown, D. F. 1939 The Hexagonal Court at Baalbek. AJA 43: 285–88. Budge, E. A. W. 1884 Babylonian Life and History. By-Paths of Bible Knowledge 5. London: R. T. S. Busink, Th. A. 1938 De Toren van Babel: Zijn Vorm en zijn Beteekenis. Batavia Centrum: Noordhoˆ-Kolˆ. Cavigneaux, A.; Güterbock, H. G.; and Roth, M. T., eds. 1985 The Series Erim-hus = anantu and An-ta-gál = saqû. MSL 17. Rome: Ponti˜cium Institutum Biblicum. Chwolsohn, D. 1856 Die Ssabier und der Ssabismus II. St. Petersburg: Buchdruckerei der kaiserlichen Akademie der Wissenschaften. Clagett, M. 1995 Ancient Egyptian Science, A Source Book: Calendars, Clocks, and Astronomy II. Philadelphia: American Philosophical Society. Colson, F. H. 1926 The Week: An Essay on the Origin and Development of the Seven-Day Cycle. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. De Vogel, C. J. 1966 Pythagoras and Early Pythagoreanism: An Interpretation of Neglected Evidence on the Philosopher Pythagoras. Assen: Van Gorcum.

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Horowitz, W. 1998 Mesopotamian Cosmic Geography. Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns. 2006 A Late Babylonian Tablet with Concentric Circles from the University Museum (CBS 1766). JANES 30: 37–53. How, W. W., and Wells, J. 1912 A Commentary on Herodotus 1. Oxford: Clarendon. Hübner, B., and Reizammer, A., eds. 1985 Inim Kiengi II; Sumerisch-Deutsches Glossar 2. Marktredwitz: H. Troeger. Hunger, H., and Pingree, D. 1989 MUL.APIN: An Astronomical Compendium in Cuneiform. AfO Beiheft 24. Horn: F. Berger. Jacobsen, T. 1976 The Treasures of Darkness: A History of Mesopotamian Religion. New Haven: Yale University Press. Jakob-Rost, L. 1984 Zur Zikkurrat von Babylon. Forschungen und Berichte; Staatliche Museen zu Berlin 24: 59–62. Jastrow, M. 1898 The Religion of Babylonia and Assyria. Boston: Ginn. Jensen, P. 1886 Der Kakkab mísrîå der Antares. Zeitschrift für Assyriologie und verwandte Gebiete 1: 244–67. 1890 Die Kosmologie der Babylonier: Studien und Materialien. Strassburg: Trübner. Jeremias, A. 1911 The Old Testament in the Light of the Ancient East; Manual of Biblical Archæology. Theological Translation Library 28. London: Williams & Norgate. Kahn, J. C. 1970 On Early Greek Astronomy. JHS 90: 99–116. Katz, D. 2003 The Image of the Netherworld in the Sumerian Sources. Bethesda, MD: CDL. Koch-Westenholz, U. 1995 Mesopotamian Astrology: An Introduction to Babylonian and Assyrian Celestial Divination. CNIP 19. Copenhagen: Museum Tusculanum Press. Koldewey, R. 1911 Ausgrabungen der Deutschen Orient-Gesellschaft in Babylon; I: Die Tempel von Babylon und Borsippa. WVDOG 15. Leipzig: Hinrichs. Kugler, F. X. 1907 Sternkunde und Sterndienst in Babel; assyriologische, astronomische und astralmythologische Untersuchungen I–II. Münster: Asschendorˆsche Verlagsbuchhandlung. Landsberger, B. 1967 Über Farben im Sumerisch-Akkadischen. JCS 21: 139–73. Langdon, S. 1919 Sumerian Liturgies and Psalms. Publications of the Babylonian Section X. 4. Philadelphia: The University Museum. Le Boeu˙e, A. 1983 Hygin: L’Astronomie. Paris: Les Belles Lettres. Lewis, C. T., and Short, C., eds. 1879 A Latin Dictionary. Oxford: Clarendon. Livingstone, A. 1986 Mystical and Mythological Explanatory Works of Assyrian and Babylonian Scholars. Oxford: Clarendon. Lloyd, G. E. R. 1991 Methods and Problems in Greek Science. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Mehren, A. F. 1874 Manuel de la cosmographie du moyen age, traduit de l’arabe “Nokhbet ed-dahr ˜ ’Adjaib-il-birr walbah’r” de Shems ed-Dÿn Abou-’Abdallah Moh’ammed de Damas. Copenhagen: Reitzel. Naydler, J. 2005 Shamanic Wisdom in the Pyramid Texts; The Mystical Tradition of Ancient Egypt. Rochester, VT: Inner Traditions.

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Neugebauer, O. 1957 The Exact Sciences in Antiquity. 2nd ed. Providence, RI: Brown University Press. 1975 A History of Ancient Mathematical Astronomy II. Berlin: Springer. Neugebauer, O., and Parker, R. A. 1969 Egyptian Astronomical Texts III. Decans, Planets, Constellations and Zodiacs. Brown Egyptological Studies 6. Providence, RI: Brown University Press. Oelsner, J. 1984 Ein Zikkurrat-Grundriss aus Nippur. Forschungen und Berichte; Staatliche Museen zu Berlin 24: 63–65. 1989 Ein Zikkurrat-Grundriß aus Nippur—Addendum. Forschungen und Berichte; Staatliche Museen zu Berlin 27: 51. Oppert, J. 1863 Expédition Scienti˜que en Mésopotamie Exécutée par Ordre du Gouvernement de 1851 a 1854 par MM. Fulgence Fresnel, Félix Thomas et Jules Oppert 1. Paris: Imprimerie Impériale. Pallis, S. A. 1926 The Babylonian Akitu Festival. Historisk-˜lologiske Meddelelser XII,1. Copenhagen: K. Dansk Vidernskabernes Selskab. Parpola, S. 1997 Assyrian Prophecies. SAA 9. Helsinki: Helsinki University Press. 2000 Monotheism in Ancient Assyria. Pp. 165–209 in One God or Many? Concepts of Divinity in the Ancient World, ed. B. N. Porter. Transactions of the Casco Bay Assyriological Institute 1. Chebeague Island, ME. 2004 Back to Delitzsch and Jeremias: The Relevance of the Pan-Babylonian School to the MELAMMU Project. Pp. 237–47 in MELAMMU Symposia IV, eds. A. Panaino and A. Piras. Milan: Università di Bologna & Istituto Italiano per l’Africa e l’Oriente. Parrot, A. 1949 Ziggurats et Tour de Babel. Paris: Albin Michel. Pedersen, O. 1993 Early Physics and Astronomy: A Historical Introduction. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Place, V., and Thomas, F. 1870 Ninive et l’Assyrie 2. Paris: Imprimerie Impériale. Potts, D. T. 1999 The Archaeology of Elam. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Rawlinson, G. 1858 The History of Herodotus. London: John Murray. 1879 The Five Great Monarchies of the Ancient Eastern World II. London: John Murray. Rawlinson, H. C. 1841 Memoir on the Site of the Atropatenian Ecbatana. Journal of the Royal Geographical Society of London X:I: 65–158. 1861 On the Birs Nimrud, or the Great Temple of Borsippa. JRAS 18: 1–34. Reiner, E. 1995 Astral Magic in Babylonia. Transactions of the American Philosophical Society Held at Philadelphia for Promoting Useful Knowledge 85:4. Philadelphia: The American Philosophical Society. Reiner, E., and Pingree, D., eds. 1998 Babylonian Planetary Omens. Part Three. CM 11. Groningen: Styx. Rochberg-Halton, F. 1988 Bene˜c and Male˜c Planets in Babylonian Astrology. Pp. 323–28 in A Scienti˜c Humanist: Studies in Memory of Abraham Sachs, eds. E. Leichty, M. deJ. Ellis and P. Gerardi. Occasional Publications of the Samuel Noah Kramer Fund 9. Philadelphia: The University Museum. Sachs, A. 1969 Akkadian Rituals. Pp. 331–45 in Ancient Near Eastern Texts Relating to the Old Testament, ed. J. B. Pritchard. Princeton: Princeton University Press. Sarton, G. 1959 A History of Science 2. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Sayce, A. 1887 Lectures on the Origin and Growth of Religion as Illustrated by the Religion of the Ancient Babylonians. Hibbert Lectures. London: Williams and Norgate.


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Schmidt, W. 1972 The Origin and Growth of Religion: Facts and Theories. New York: Cooper Square. Scurlock, J. A. 1990 Herodotos’ Median Chronology Again?! (sun “including” or “excluding”). Iranica Antiqua 25: 149–63. Singor, H. W. 1992 The Achaean Wall and the Seven Gates of Thebes. Hermes 120: 401–11 Sjöberg, Å. W., and Bergmann, E. 1969 The Collection of the Sumerian Temple Hymns. TCS III. Locust Valley, NY: Augustin. Speiser, E. A. 1969 Akkadian Myths and Epics. Pp. 60–119 in Ancient Near Eastern Texts Relating to the Old Testament, ed. J. B. Pritchard. Princeton: Princeton University Press. Suter, C. E. 1997 Gudeas vermeintliche Segnungen des Eninnu. ZA 87: 1–10. Szarzynska, K. 1993 Oêrings for the Goddess Inana in Archaic Uruk. RA 87: 7–26. Van der Waerden, B. L. 1979 Die Pythagoreer: Religiöse Bruderschaft und Schule der Wissenschaft. Die Bibliothek der Alten Welt. Zürich: Artemis. Vernant, J. P. 1983 Myth and Thought among the Greeks. London: Routledge/Kegan Paul. Waerzeggers, C., and Siebes, R. 2007 An Alternative Interpretation of the Seven-Pointed Star on CBS 1766. NABU 2007/2: 43–45. Walton, J. H. 1995 The Mesopotamian Background of the Tower of Babel Account and its Implications. Bulletin for Biblical Research 5: 155–75. Weadock, P. N. 1975 The GIPARU at Ur. Iraq 37: 101–28. Weidner, E. F. 1915 Handbuch der babylonischen Astronomie, 1: Der babylonische Fixsternhimmel; Beiträge zur ältesten Geschichte der Sternbilder. AB 23. Leipzig: Hinrich. Wilson, C. E. 1924 The Haft Paikar (The Seven Beauties): Containing the Life and Adventures of King Bahram Gur, and the Seven Stories Told him by his Seven Queens / By Nizami of Ganja; Translated from the Persian, with a Commentary. London: A. Probsthain. Wilson, D. 1851 The Archaeology and Prehistoric Annals of Scotland. Edinburgh: Sutherland and Knox. Winckler, H. F. 1905 Altorientalische Forschungen iii. 2. Leipzig: Eduard Pfeiêr. Wiseman, D. J. 1972 A Babylonian Architect? AnSt 22: 141–47. 1991 Nebuchadrezzar and Babylon. The Schweich Lectures of the British Academy. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Wood, R. 1753 The Ruins of Palmyra otherwise Tedmor, in the Desart. London. Woolley, C. L. 1925 The Excavations at Ur, 1923–1924. The Antiquaries Journal V.1: 9–15. 1939 Ur Excavations, Vol. V: The Ziggurat and Its Surroundings. Publications of the Joint Expedition of the British Museum and of the University Museum, University of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia to Mesopotamia. London: Oxford University Press. 1954 Excavations at Ur: A Record of Twelve Years’ Work. London: Ernest Benn. Zerubavel, E. 1985 The Seven Day Circle; The History and Meaning of the Week. New York: The Free Press.

THE CAREER OF A NEO-BABYLONIAN COURT SCRIBE Shalom E. Holtz (Yeshiva University)

Ileååi-Marduk, descendant of the Eppes-ili family, began work in the vicinity of Babylon as a member of a limited group of court scribes who recorded legal proceedings overseen by the Neo-Babylonian royal judges.1 Later in life he moved from the Babylon region to Uruk, where he advanced beyond his original position as scribe. His career sheds light on the administration of justice outside of Babylon proper, and provides an example of how a career as a scribe was the ˜rst step towards a more advanced legal vocation in Neo-Babylonian Mesopotamia. Royal Judges, Royal Notaries, and Court Scribes The evidence for Neo-Babylonian court scribes, in general, is closely related to the evidence for two other professions, namely, royal judges and royal notaries. Studies of Neo-Babylonian legal texts have shown that both professions were restricted “collegia” organized into a discernable hierarchy.2 The royal judges are known in Akkadian as dayyan¿ sa sarri or dayyan¿ sa RN (“judges of the king” or “judges of RN”). They are attested in “trial documents” (Prozeßurkunden), which are records of legal decisions composed in a regular form.3 The trial documents are sealed by the judges, whose names also appear in the documents themselves, following the recorded proceedings. The royal notaries, known as tupsarr¿ sa sarri (“scribes of the king”),4 are attested in a separate group of land-transfer documents that they sealed.5 There are also a number of land-related legal texts sealed by both the royal notaries and the royal judges.6 The sealing of the tablets is a marker of both the trial documents and the royal notary documents.7 From the point of view of actual writing, however, there is an important diêrence between the two 1. A version of this paper was read at the 2008 annual meeting of the American Oriental Society. I am grateful to the members of the audience for their comments, as well as to C. Wunsch and an anonymous referee from JCS. Any faults remain my own. Absolute dates follow R. A. Parker and W. H. Dubberstein, Babylonian Chronology 626 B.C.–A.D. 75 (Providence: Brown University Press, 1956). 2. C. Wunsch, “Die Richter des Nabonid,” in Assyriologica et Semitica: Festschrift für Joachim Oelsner, eds. J. Marzahn and H. Neumann, AOAT 252 (Münster: Ugarit-Verlag, 2000), 567–74; H. D. Baker and C. Wunsch, “Neo-Babylonian Notaries and Their Use of Seals,” in Proceedings of the XLVe Rencontre Assriologique Internationale, Vol. 2, eds. W. W. Hallo and I. J. Winter (Bethesda, MD: CDL, 2001), 199–201. 3. Wunsch, “Die Richter des Nabonid,” 558. 4. Wunsch, “Die Richter des Nabonid,” 562 and 200. 5. Baker and Wunsch, “Neo- Babylonian Notaries,” 197–99. See also H. D. Baker, The Archive of the Nappahu Family, AfOBeih 30 (Wien: Institut für Orientalistik der Universität Wien, 2004), 13–14. 6. Wunsch, “Die Richter des Nabonid,” 562. 7. See Wunsch, “Die Richter des Nabonid,” 562–63 for other characteristics of these texts.

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groups of texts. The royal notaries, as be˜ts their formal designation as “scribes,” not only sealed their texts, but also wrote them as well.8 Trial documents, on the other hand, were not written by the judges themselves, but by court scribes, entitled LU2.UMBISAG or LU2.DUB.SAR (Akk. tupsarru, “scribe”). The names of the court scribes occur in the same position as the names of scribes in other Neo-Babylonian legal texts, and without the scribes’ seals.9 The trial documents show that court scribes, like the notaries and royal judges, also belonged to a limited circle. Of fourteen trial documents that can be dated between years 2 and 12 of Nabonidus (554–543 BCE),10 nine record the names of the same two court scribes, Nadinu descendant of Paharu and Nabû-suma-iskun descendant of Rab-banê.11 Nadinu and Nabû-suma-iskun also wrote other texts that record litigation involving the royal judges, but which are not trial documents per se.12 These other texts provide further con˜rmation of the scribes’ connection to the royal judges. The number of trial documents is rather small, and any conclusions reached based on them must consider the question of how representative this sample of texts actually is.13 It is certainly possible that other, unattested court scribes wrote trial documents between years 2 and 12 of Nabonidus. Nevertheless, the members of the judicial “collegia” who act in these texts remain the same in most cases.14 So, even if in Babylon between years 2 and 12 of Nabonidus there were other royal judges and court scribes, the attested “collegia” of royal judges consistently worked with the attested pair of court scribes, Nadinu and Nabû-suma-iskun. Because only two court scribes are known in Babylon during these years, it is di¯cult to say much about how—and if—they were organized. Nevertheless, there are some parallels between how the names of court scribes, royal judges, and royal notaries appear in the texts. The names of all three functionaries are written without the father’s name; only the personal name and the family name appear, with the title (“scribe” or “judge”) between them. This suggests that the court scribes enjoyed a professional status similar to that of the royal judges and the royal notaries. Furthermore, whenever both Nadinu and Nabû-suma-iskun appear together in a text, Nadinu’s name always precedes Nabû-suma-iskun’s. The names of the royal judges and royal notaries obey a similarly consistent order, which is understood as an indication of rank.15 Thus, as far as can be seen from the limited data, Nadinu may have ranked higher than Nabû-suma-iskun. Since royal judges and notaries are attested in Babylon before year 2 of Nabonidus and after year 12, the circle of court scribes existed then, as well. The scribe mNabû-mutÿr-gimilli descendant of Gahal8. Baker and Wunsch, “Neo-Babylonian Notaries,” 199. 9. Wunsch, “Die Richter des Nabonid,” 562 includes this fact among other features that distinguish trial records from land sales. For general discussion of sealing practices in the Neo-Babylonian period and the proliferation of sealing in the latter part of the ˜fth century BCE, see M. Jursa, Neo-Babylonian Legal and Administrative Documents: Typology, Contents and Archives, Guides to the Mesopotamian Textual Record 1 (Münster: Ugarit-Verlag, 2005), 4–6. 10. Nbn 64, 356 and 495; M. T. Roth, “The Material Composition of the Neo-Babylonian Dowry,” AfO 36/37 (1989/1990) 1–55, no. 1; TCL 12 86 and 122; C. Wunsch, “Und die Richter berieten . . . ,” AfO 44/45 (1997/1998) 60–100, nos. 6, 13, 20, 21, 22, and 23; C. Wunsch, Das Egibi Archiv: Die Felder und Gärten, CM 20 (Groningen: Styx, 2000), no. 84; YOS 19 101. For the dating of these texts, see Wunsch, “Die Richter des Nabonid,” 570–71. Note that YOS 19 101 is not included in Wunsch’s catalogue. 11. Nbn 64 356, and 495; TCL 12 86 and 122; Wunsch, “Und die Richter berieten . . . ,” nos. 6, 20, and 23; Wunsch, Das Egibi Archiv, no. 84. In the remaining ˜ve trial documents, Nadinu’s name is preserved in Wunsch, “Und die Richter berieten . . . ,” no. 21 and Nabû-suma-iskun’s is preserved in YOS 19 101. Nabû-suma-iskun is also attested in Wunsch, Das Egibi Archiv, no. 90/TCL 13 219, dated to year 13 of Nabonidus. The names of the scribes are not preserved in Roth, “The Matieral Composition of the Neo-Babylonian Dowry,” no. 1 and Wunsch, “Und die Richter berieten . . . ,” nos. 13 and 22. The role of two scribes in the production of a single document remains unclear. 12. Nbn 668 (Nadinu and Nabû-suma-iskun) and Nbn 608 (Nabû-suma-iskun). Both may also have written I. L. Holt, “Tablets from the R. Campbell Thompson Collection in Hashell Oriental Museum, the University of Chicago,” AJSL 27 (1910–1911) 216. 13. See Wunsch, “Und die Richter berieten . . . ,” 61. For a more general discussion of the nature of Neo-Babylonian archives and the evidence they provide, see Baker, The Archive of the Nappahu Family, 4–6 and Jursa, Neo-Babylonian Documents, 1–6. 14. See the data collected in Wunsch, “Die Richter des Nabonid,” 570–71. 15. See Wunsch, “Die Richter des Nabonid,” 567–74 and Baker and Wunsch, “Neo-Babylonian Notaries,” 199–201.

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Marduk wrote two trial documents during the reign of Neriglissar16 and the scribe mBel-iddina descendant of Atû wrote two trial documents during the later years of Nabonidus,17 which suggests that these earlier and later scribes held positions similar to that of Nadinu and Nabû-suma-iskun. Royal judges, diêrent from those active in Babylon, are also attested in documents from other cities.18 Presumably, they were organized like the judges in Babylon, and probably made use of court scribes, as well. Tracing the career of Ileååi-Marduk descendant of Eppes-ili, a court scribe who worked outside of Babylon oêrs insights into the administration of justice and the position of the court scribe where the data are otherwise scarce. Ileååi-Marduk as a Court Scribe Between years 13 and 17 of Nabonidus (543–539 BCE), Ileååi-Marduk descendant of Eppes-ili, wrote ˜ve documents belonging to the extensive archive of the Egibi family.19 All ˜ve documents are records of litigation, including one trial document that involved Itti-Marduk-balatu, also known as Iddinaya, son of Nabû-ahhe-iddin, descendant of the Egibi family.20 The ˜ve documents pertain to just three cases: three concern the transfer of escrow once held by Itti-Marduk-balatu’s father,21 while the other two relate two separate cases regarding slaves owned by Itti-Marduk-balatu himself.22 Although this man belonged to the Babylonian branch of the Egibi family, the documents were not written in Babylon itself, but in Bab-nar-†amas23 and the city of Bÿt-sar-Babili.24 The judicial authorities they mention are diêrent from those who were active in Babylon at the same time.25 The names of several authorities occur in more than one of these cases. A sukkallu named Sîn-sezib is mentioned in the case from Bab-nar-†amas26 and in one case from Bÿt-sar-Babili.27 A judge named Nergal-aha-usur and a kizû named Kiribtu are mentioned in both cases from Bÿt-sar-Babili, and may have been the local authorities there.28 Only one judge, named †uma-ukÿn, is mentioned among the authorities in all three cases, even though these cases were heard in two diêrent locations.29 Perhaps he was a circuit judge of sorts, who joined the local authorities.30 Alternatively, the fact that all three cases involve the same litigant, Itti-Marduk-balatu, may indicate a connection between him and the judge †uma-ukÿn. †uma-ukÿn was probably a royal judge of equivalent standing to his contemporaries in Babylon. It is true that the documents themselves never refer to him as a “judge of Nabonidus,” or as a “judge of the

16. Wunsch, “Und die Richter berieten . . . ,” no. 5. and C. Wunsch, “Eine Richterurkunde aus der Zeit Neriglissars,” AuOr 17– 18 (1999–2000) 241–54. 17. J. M. Durand, Textes babyloniens d’époque récent (Paris: A.D.P.F., 1981), no. 60; Wunsch, “Und die Richter berieten . . . ,” no. 26. Nabû-mutÿr-gimilli is attested as a notary, as well. See Baker and Wunsch, “Neo-Babylonian Notaries,” 211. 18. For a list of texts from the reign of Neriglissar and Nabonidus, see Wunsch, “Die Richter des Nabonid,” n. 33 (567–68). 19. Nbn 738, 1047, 1048, and 1113; TCL 12 120. 20. Nbn 1113. For this man’s position as holder of the Egibi archive, see Jursa, Neo-Babylonian Documents, 65. 21. Nbn 1047 and 1048; TCL 12 120. 22. Nbn 738 and 1113. 23. Nbn 738. 24. Nbn 1113, 1047 and 1048; TCL 12 120. For geographic information on these locations, see R. Zadok, Geographic Names According to New- and Late- Babylonian Texts, RGTC 8 (Wiesbaden: Reichert, 1985). 25. See Wunsch, “Die Richter des Nabonid,” n. 33 (568). 26. Nbn 738:10–11. 27. Nbn 1113:28. 28. Nbn 1113:29 and sides; TCL 12 120:22–23. 29. Nbn 738 seal; Nbn 1113:29 and sides; TCL 12 120:24. 30. The role of the sukkallu, who heard the case at Bab-nar-†amas but only one of the cases at Bÿt-sar-Babili, requires further investigation.

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king.” Nevertheless, his name is always followed by the title LU2.DI.KU5 (dayyanu, “judge”), including twice in the inscriptions beneath his seal. This titular convention applies to the names of royal judges in Babylon and, it may be assumed, in Bab-nar-†amas and Bÿt-sar-Babili, as well.31 If †uma-ukÿn was a royal judge, it follows that Ileååi-Marduk was a court scribe. Like Nadinu and Nabû-suma-iskun, Ileååi-Marduk served the same judge and composed the same kinds of documents. Unlike the court scribes from Babylon, however, Ileååi-Marduk wrote documents for the same judge in more than one location. This fact suggests a particularly close connection between the judge and his court scribe. Ileååi-Marduk in Uruk Three documents written in Uruk, from the Eanna temple archives, attest to the activities of a man named Ileååi-Marduk descendant of Eppes-ili. In year 9 of Cyrus (530 BCE), he was the court scribe who drew up a trial record of the decision by several members of the Eanna administration, sealed by a judge named Bau-eres.32 Ileååi-Marduk is mentioned in two texts written three years later, in year 3 of Cambyses (527 BCE).33 In both texts, he appears alongside a royal judge named Rÿm¿t. In one, IleååiMarduk, Rÿm¿t, and a vellum scribe named Bau-eres issue an order concerning ˜sh oêred in the Eanna.34 The other is a preliminary protocol of the proceedings in a case of cattle that has gone missing from the Eanna.35 Ileååi-Marduk and Rÿm¿t are the two authorities who hear the initial accusation and who send messengers to ñd the accused culprit. In these three texts from Uruk, Ileååi-Marduk advances from the position of court scribe to the position of adjudicating authority. In all three texts, he still bears the title “scribe,” but only the earliest text from Uruk was clearly written by him.36 Three years later, when he and Rÿm¿t heard the accusation about the Eanna’s cattle, another scribe, but not Ileååi-Marduk, wrote the protocol of the proceedings.37 In fact, even though Ileååi-Marduk’s title is “scribe,” the text implies that he functioned as a royal judge, like Rÿm¿t. The introductory lines of the text mention only one judge; they state that the accusation was made “before Rÿm¿t, the judge of the king, and Ile’i-Marduk, the scribe.”38 But after the accusation is quoted, the text states that “the judges sent a messenger” (LU2.DI.KU5.ME LU2.DUMU! sip-ri . . . ispu-ru-ma).39 Since the text does not mention any other authorities before this point, the plural subject (marked clearly with a ME sign), and the plural verb in this sentence must refer not only to Rÿm¿t, but to Ileååi-Marduk as well. Both men were understood to be judges.40 If the adjudicator Ileååi-Marduk is 31. See Wunsch, “Die Richter des Nabonid,” 558 for discussion of this titular convention. 32. OIP 122 38. For discussion of the case see D. B. Weisberg, Neo-Babylonian Texts in the Oriental Institute Collection, OIP 122 (Chicago: The Oriental Institute of the University of Chicago, 2003), 70–74. For prosopography of the Eanna administration, see H. M. Kümmel, Familie, Beruf und Amt in spätbabylonischen Uruk, Abhandlungen der Deutschen Orient-Gesellschaft 20 (Berlin: Gebr. Mann, 1979). 33. YOS 7 151 and YOS 7 159, as noted in Kümmel, Familie, Beruf und Amt, 114. 34. YOS 7 151. For a discussion of this text, see K. Kleber, “Die Fischerei in der spätbabylonischen Zeit,” WZKM 94 (2004) 147–48. Note that Bau-eres in YOS 7 151 may be the vellum scribe (sepÿru) of Gobryas in OIP 122 38, which would further con˜rm the association between Ileååi-Marduk and royal (or viceroyal) functionaries. I am grateful to the JCS referee for this reference to Kleber and for the interpretation of the Bau-eres connection. 35. YOS 7 159. For discussion, see S. von Bolla, “Drei Diebstahlsfälle von Tempeleigentum in Uruk,” ArOr 12 (1941) 117–20. 36. OIP 122 38:47. 37. YOS 7 159:27. 38. YOS 7 159:2–3. 39. YOS 7 159:7. 40. The title “scribe” may mean that Ileååi-Marduk became a notary, rather than a judge. What is important, however, is that the text itself refers to him as a judge. Ileååi-Marduk’s position should not be confused with the position of the “Scribe of the Eanna,” on which see Kümmel, Familie, Beruf und Amt, 108–34 and R. H. Sack, “The Scribe Nabû-bani-ahÿ, son of Ibnâ, and the Hierarchy of Eanna as seen in the Erech Contracts,” ZA 67 (1977) 42–52.

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the same man named in the Egibi texts, he was already a seasoned, experienced court scribe by the time he began to hear cases in the Eanna. But are the two court scribes named Ileååi-Marduk descendant of Eppes-ili actually the same person? Because court scribes’ names were written without a patronymic, it is di¯cult to be perfectly certain that a scribe attested in the Eanna archive is the same as one in the Egibi archive. Nevertheless, since the circle of quali˜ed court scribes was limited, names of court scribes that recur are likely to belong to the same person. The Ileååi-Marduk texts date from the sixteen years between year 13 of Nabonidus and year 3 of Cambyses, a plausible span of activity for one person.41 Finally, the attestation in diêrent archives need not indicate that diêrent people are involved. It is possible that Ileååi-Marduk relocated from the vicinity of Babylon to Uruk between year 17 of Nabonidus, when he is last attested in the Egibi archive, and year 9 of Cyrus, when he is ˜rst attested in the Eanna. If the scribe Ileååi-Marduk who worked for †uma-ukÿn near Babylon is the same as the scribe Ileååi-Marduk who worked in Uruk nine years later, his move from one city to another demands explanation.42 He probably did not move to Uruk in order to join the Eanna bureaucracy. Ileååi-Marduk was a secular o¯cial who participated in legal cases involving the Eanna, but was not part of the Eanna administration.43 The fall of the Neo-Babylonian kingdom to Persia may have caused him to move. A formal “transfer” by the new government seems unlikely, however, given that the positions of royal judges in Babylon were not aêcted by this change.44 A possible explanation for Ileååi-Marduk’s move emerges from comparison between his career and the career of Nabû-ahhe-iddin, a well-known descendant of the Egibi family.45 Although Nabû-ahheiddin was a member of a Babylonian family and functioned as a royal judge in Babylon itself, before he assumed this position he performed a “tour of duty” as a scribe outside Babylon, in Opis, during year 40 of Nebuchadnezzar (565 BCE), when he wrote several court-related documents.46 Ileååi-Marduk’s stint as the court scribe of the judge †uma-ukÿn might have been an analogous period of service away from his native city, which could well have been Uruk, rather than the vicinity of Babylon. When this period of service was over, Ileååi-Marduk returned to Uruk, where he continued to serve as a court scribe until his position advanced. 41. The career of Nabû-ahhe-iddin descendant of Egibi, a royal judge who also started out as a scribe, lasted over twenty years, from year 40 of Nebuchadnezzar through at least year 12 of Nabonidus. See G. van Driel, “The Rise of the House of Egibi: Nabû-ahhe-iddina,” JEOL 29 (1985–1986) 54–57. 42. For general discussion of the question of the mobility of specialized workers in Mesopotamia, see C. Zaccagnini, “Patterns of Mobility among Ancient Near Eastern Craftsmen,” JNES 42 (1983) 245–64. 43. His position is thus analogous to the royal judge in OIP 122 38. For other examples of royal judges involved in aâirs of the Eanna, see V. Scheil, “La libération judiciaire d’un ˜ls donné en gage sous Neriglissor en 558 av. J.-C.,” RA 12 (1915) 1–13; J. M. Durand, Textes babyloniens, no. 60; and YOS 7 161. 44. See Wunsch, “Die Richter des Nabonid,” 572–73. 45. See Jursa, Neo-Babylonian Documents, 65–66 and the literature cited there. 46. Van Driel, “The Rise of the House of Egibi,” 55. Although none of these earlier documents is actually a trial record, Nabûahhe-iddin was certainly familiar with the formal requirements of these texts. He was one of two court scribes who wrote a trial record dated to Nabonidus’s ˜rst year (Nbn 1128). Note that this text is later than his earliest attestation as a judge (Nbn 16).

A JUDGMENT OF DARIUS THE KING John MacGinnis (McDonald Institute for Archaeological Research, Cambridge) Caesar dum magnus ad altum fulminat Euphraten bello victorque volentis per populos dat iura Georgics IV 560–562

Although the impact of Achaemenid rule on Babylonia was profound, it took time for changes to ˜lter through on the ground to the extent that they become visible in the recoverable material and administrative remains.1 There is a delay in the manifestation of change in the material culture. As put by Gibson, “the problem we are dealing here is one of time lag. Archaeological periods and historical periods are not necessarily coterminous. Artifacts thought typical of a period may continue in use some time after the historical era has ended.”2 This phenomenon has been observed with regard to coins, seals, ceramics, and sculpture. But equally it applies to the written record, where both the formatting of the tablets and the archival situations that they record lag behind the change of dynasty (Stolper 1989b: 92 n. 23). As regards the advent of Achaemenid rule in Babylonia, there is at ˜rst very much a continuity with the bureaucracy of the Neo-Babylonian period. Changes appear during the reign of Darius I3 and a convenient cut-oˆ point is provided by the reign of Xerxes I.4 In the case of the temple communities, in many ways business seems to have gone on as usual, at least until the time of the revolts in the second year of Xerxes.5 This pictures holds for the Ebabbara in Sippar. There are a few instances where we may note the use of Persian terms (hamarakara, pasaådu, padas¿tu)6 but in each case these are really just synonyms for the Akkadian equivalents (tupsarru, rikis qabli, ilku), and though serving to remind of the presence of a new regime, they do not of themselves denote any more far-reaching transformation than that. Similarly, references in the archives of 1. For summaries of the impact of Achaemenid rule on Babylonia see Oppenheim (1985), van Driel (1987), Jursa (2007), Kuhrt (1988), and Dandamayev (1994), as well as passages in Briant (2002), Dandamayev (1989), and Dandamayev and Lukonin (1989); for a more speci˜c discussion of the relations between the Ebabbara and the state in the sixth century BC see MacGinnis (1994). I would like to thank Mohammed Dandamayev, Michael Jursa, Amélie Kuhrt, Cornelia Wunsch and Stefan Zawadzki for their help and comments. 2. Gibson (1974: 13), quoted by Zettler (1979: 268). 3. Zettler (1979: 266–67). Another case in point is the term sepÿru bel temi, which appears in the reign of Darius and is found throughout the empire (Stolper 1989a: 298–99); this seems to have denoted a roving royal commissioner and in Babylonia would therefore be equivalent to the earlier res sarri. Note however that Jursa will shortly suggest that the Achaemenid equivalent to res sarri was ustarbaru (personal communication). 4. Due to the fact that there is an abrupt breaking oˆ of the recovered cuneiform record at this time, that there is a new character to the texts when the documentation resumes, and that numerous archives from the temple communities of northern Babylonia come to an end in the second year of this king. 5. On which see most recently Waerzeggers (2003). 6. hamarakara: MacGinnis (2007: no. 3); pasaådu: Jursa (1999: 99–100), MacGinnis (2002b: 180); padas¿tu: Jursa (1995b).

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the Ebabbara to Persian o¯cials are very rare, and only a very small number of Iranians are attested by name.7 Study of the sealings on the letter orders from Sippar demonstrated that there are a few developments in the iconography that may be attributed to Persian in˘uence, but equally these have to be seen as discrete elements entering a corpus that was otherwise very much in the mainstream tradition of ˜rst-millennium glyptic (MacGinnis 1995a: 171–72). The super˜cial impression is therefore that the life of the temple changed very little. In part this may actually be true but it must also be the case that the documentation as recovered fails to reveal fully the underlying changes. In light of this, the following text from the Sippar Collections of the British Museum is of extraordinary interest. Not only does it add materially to our knowledge of Iranian individuals active in the land, but in the process aôrds a glimpse of the channels connecting the Achaemenid court to the communities of the empire. BM 79541 Darius 19/-/7 8.0 x 4.1+ cm Transliteration obverse 1 si-pir-tu4 sá mBa-ga-un-du ù lúki-na-at-t[a-sú] 2 lúDI.KUD.ME† sá É mUn-da-pa-ar-na-aå a-na pa-ni [(X X X)] 3 mI-na-É.SAG.ILA2-li-bur lúKID.BAR UD.KIB.NUNki [lúDUB.SAR.ME†] 4 u lú[TU].É.ME† sá É.BABBAR.RA mTa-ha-ma-as-pa-da lú[X X X (X)] 5 lútas-li-sú sá mBa-ga-aå-pa-na ù mPar-su-ú lúsi-rik ªdº[EN] 6 lútas-li-sú sá lúEN.NAM É.SAG.ILA2 is-su-nu [(X X X)] 7 sat-ra um-ma mDa-ri-åa-a-wus LUGAL tè-e-mu il-ta-[kan] 8 um-ma KÙ.BABBAR sá mªBa-gaº-[un-du . . . 9 ªxº[. . . reverse 1u sá x [. . . 2u bit-qa ªx x x x xº[. . . 3u ni-is-hi na-sá-aå PAP 1 GÚN KÙ.BABBAR qa-lu-ú mI-na-É.S[AG.ILA2-li-bur] 4u lúSANGA Sip-par ki mdEN-MU mdNÀ-†E†.ME†-GI lúDUB.SAR.ME† u m[. . . 5u a-na mBa-ga-fifiunflfl-åu-un-du mPa-ar-na-ás mTa-ta-x-[. . . 6u lúDI.KUD.ME† id-din-nu ina GUB-zu sá mKI-LUGAL-TIN lúGAL-ni-ªikº-[ka-si sá] 7u lúGAR-UMU† GÚ.DU8.Aki mdNÀ-ma-a-lik lúma-da-a-a lúGAL-n[i-ik-ka-si] 8u m†E†.ME†-sá-a-a DUMU-sá mdEN-ú-se-zib DUMU mE-tè-ru md[X X (X) A-sú sá] 9u mdNÀ-PAP-A A mdRe-mut mdNÀ-ba-nu-nu DUB.SAR DUMU lúS[IPA AN†E.KUR.RA.ME† GNki itiX] 10u UD-20-1-LAL KÁM MU 7 KÁM m Da-ri-åa-wus LUGAL ªKUR.KURº NA4.KI†IB l[ú. . . 11u NA4.KI†IB mdNÀ-ma-a-lik NA4.KI†IB lúGAL-ni-ik-k[a-si . . . 7. Thus a Mede by the name of B¿masa is the recipient of dates in the letter order CT 55 43 (Darius year 4; cf. MacGinnis 1995a: 123 n. 142). BM 54107, to be published as text No. 7 in MacGinnis (in press), records that 6 kur of barley, imittu of the bÿt qasti of a certain Artumazza, is against the account of Bagadata the slave of Udaranaå (Darius year 1). BM 68810 mentions mUn-dupa-ri-iå (rev. 5) and É mUn-du-pa-a[r-iå] (rev. 2u). It may be of relevance that the obverse deals with issues of rations to the workers of the qÿpu going to Elam. Note also the mention of Magi in Darius year 26 (Dandamayev 1995). For the latest on Iranian names in ˜rst-millennium Babylonia see Zadok (2004).

A JUDGMENT OF DARIUS THE KING

BM 79541 obverse

5

reverse

5u

10u

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Notes l. 1 The same word sipirtu is also used when the temple receives a communication from Nabonidus in Temaå (MacGinnis 1998: 207, no. 1; see also the references in CAD sipirtu). l. 4 The erib bÿti were the senior temple prebendaries with duties that required them to have access to all parts of the temple.8 They were not part of the inner temple command (sangû, scribes, qÿpu, sepÿru), and though exceptional it is not without parallel for the erib bÿti to be included in the listing of the temple executive; compare for example their appearance in the masåaltu investigation BM 101913. l. 6 The bel pÿhati of Esagila is an enigmatic ˜gure. The nature of his role remains unknown— Esagila also had a satammu and a qÿpu—but the evidence of the present text demonstrates that he was at least a senior o¯cial. For references see CAD pÿhatu in bel pÿhati 2.2u.b (CAD P: 369). rev. 3u For a brief discussion of nishu see van Driel (2002: 289). The term may have had multiple connotations; as a tax it could denote “a levy on (leased) land burdened with military obligations.” rev. 4u Apart from the qÿpu, who would at this period be listed immediately after the sangû, MacGinnis (1995a: 117; 1995b: 23–24), the remaining member of the temple high command was the sepÿru, and very likely his name and title are to be restored at the end of this line. The sepÿru at this time was Nidintu (MacGinnis 1995: 131; Bongenaar 1997: 559). rev. 6u The basis for the restoration at the end of the line is that there is not enough room for another personal name and that it is unlikely that Itti-sarri-balatu would have been designated “master accountant, governor of Cutha.” If anything the order of the titles would have been the other way round, but in fact the combination is highly unlikely. It is therefore much more plausible that Itti-sarri-balatu was the master accountant of the governor of Cutha.9 Translation The letter that Bagaåundu and [his] colleagues the judges of the household of Undaparnaå brought to Ina-Esagila-lilbur the sangû of Sippar, [the scribes] and the [erib] bÿti of the Ebabbara, Tahamaspada the [. . . . . .], the third man of Bagapana and Parsû the sirku [of Bel], the third man of the governor of Esagila, was written as follows: Darius the king has reached a decision as follows: the silver of Baga[undu . . . . . . . .] (long break) . . . . . . . which [. . . . . . . . . .] repair [. . . . . . the . . .] of the nishu has been brought. Ina-Esagila-lilbur the sangû of Sippar, Bel-iddin (and) Nabû-ahhe-usallim the scribes and [PN the . . .] have given a total of one talent of reñed silver to Bagaåundu, Parnas (and) Tata-[. . .] the judges. In the presence of Itti-sarri-balatu, the chief accountant [of ] the sakin temi of Cutha, Nabû-malik the Mede the chief [accountant], Ahhesaya son of Bel-usezib son of Eteru, [PN son of ] Nabû-nasir-apli son of Rem¿t, Nabû-banûnu the scribe of the Horse[herd family. City, month], day 19, year 7 Darius king of the world. Seal of the [. . .]. Seal of Nabûmalik. Seal of the chief accountant [. . . . . .]. Prosopography (i) Individuals with Babylonian names Ina-Esagila-lilbur (l. 3, rev. 3u) Well known as the sangû of Sippar over the period Darius years 1–12, Bongenaar (1997: 558).

8. Bongenaar (1997: 158–59); Jursa (1999: 53–54); van Driel (2002: 88–89, 112–13). 9. See Dandamayev (2006: 382) for what limited data there is on the sakin temi of Cutha. For the most recent publication of texts from Cutha see Jursa (2003).


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Bel-iddin (rev. 4u) A well-known scribe of the Ebabbara; Bongenaar (1997: 558). Nabû-ahhe-usallim (rev. 4u) Another well-known scribe of the Ebabbara, attested from Cyrus year 3 to Darius year 28; Bongenaar (1997: 558). Nabû-banûnu (rev. 9u) Nabû-banûnu of the family Re’i-sÿse is also attested as the scribe in Smit Collection 111.36; Bongenaar (1997: 490). The date of that text is Darius 10/7/7, the same year as our present text. Parsû (l. 5) Not previously known. The restoration as a sirku of Bel is a conjecture based on the fact that he is a dependent of the bel pÿhati of Esagila. Itti-sarri-balatu (rev. 6u) Speci˜ed as a rab nikkase in this text. An individual of this name is attested as a res sarri, borrowing silver, in Cam. 368: 3 (Cambyses year 7). It is impossible to say on present evidence whether or not our Itti-sarri-balatu is the same man. Nabû-malik (rev. 7u, 11u) Speci˜ed as a Median rab nikkase in this text, otherwise unknown. As he has a Babylonian name it is likely that he was an acculturated Mede, probably born in Babylonia.10 Ahhesaya/Bel-usezib/Eteru (rev. 8u) Not otherwise known. Nabû-nasir-apli/Rem¿t (rev. 9u) Not otherwise known. (ii) Individuals with Iranian names Bagaåundu (l.1, rev. 5u) Evidently the senior judge in the establishment of Undaparnaå. A Bakunda appears in the Persepolis Forti˜cation Texts in year 23; Hallock (1969: 674, PF 1816, 1817). Undaparnaå (l.2) This probably represents the same name as the Umintaparna (Herodotus’ Intaphernes), recorded in the Behistun inscription as the general of Darius I who suppressed the revolt of Nebuchadnezzar IV at the beginning of Darius’ reign (Dandamayev 1992: 136). However it is certainly not the same individual as that Intaphernes was executed soon after (Herodotus III.18–19). But the Undaparnaå here was nevertheless clearly a high-status individual, as demonstrated by the fact that there were judges attached to his household. It is conceivable that Undaparnaå was himself governor of Babylonia and Across-theRiver (i.e., assuming the post in succession to Ustanu11); certainly it would not be surprising for the governor of the province to be included in a document such as this.

10. Dandamayev (1992: 154); cf. Jursa (2003b: 172 n. 21). 11. Ustanu was governor of Babylon and Across-the-River certainly up to 516 BC (Darius year 6); cf. Stolper (1989a: 290–92); Dandamayev (2006: 377).

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Tahamaspada (l.4) The name itself is the same as the individual mentioned in the Behistun inscription as the general in charge of the army that suppressed the revolt of Sagartia in 521 BC (Dandamayev 1989: 121, 129). A Takmasbada appears in the Persepolis Forti˜cation texts, evidently with ten horses under his control (see Hallock 1969: 759); he also appears as an apportioner in PF 77. That Takmasbada may or may not be identical with the general of Darius, but will certainly not be the same as the individual of the present text if I am correct in understanding him as a taslÿsu of Bagaåpana. Bagapana (l. 5) A Bagapana is attested in Cam. 316 (Cambyses year 6), which records contributions paid “for the kisru of Bagapana” (a-na ki-sir mBa-ga-a-pa-na) from various sources including Bab-Nar-†amas (Zadok 1982: 137); it is notable that the measurements in that text are in artabas. Although we have no further context for this information, it is perfectly plausible that the Bagapana of Cam. 316 is the same as the one in our present text. In both cases the high probability is that the man was a ˜efholder.12 There is also a Bagapana attested as governor of Babylon in 503 BC (Darius year 19),13 and once again it is not impossible that this is the same individual. Moving on to the evidence from Persepolis, a Bagapana is attested as a priest in the Forti˜cation tablets; as a very high functionary in Susa/Elam, posited to be the satrap there under Darius I; and as a functionary in the Fars bureaucracy.14 Parnas (rev. 5u) According to this text a judge in the college of Bagaåundu. No individual of this name is otherwise known from the period in question. Tata-[. . .] (rev. 5u) According to the present text, a judge in the college of Bagaåundu. A name Tatakka is known as one of two Cimmerians in charge of boats in Cambyses year 6, Dandamayev (1992: 124). It is possible that the name in the present text is to be restored Ta-ta-k[a] though the last sign might also be a du, qu or tu4. Discussion BM 79541 records a ruling made by Darius in a matter involving silver, the sangû, scribes and erib bÿti of the Ebabbara, Persian judges from the household of one member of the Persian aristocracy, the taslÿsu of another, the taslÿsu of the governor (bel pÿhati) of Esagila, an accountant of the sakin temi of Cutha and a Median accountant. It is surprising that there is no mention of the qÿpu. As it happens, there is a gap in our knowledge of the holders of this o¯ce at this time. The last known attestation of †arru-l¿-daru as qÿpu is in the seventh month of Darius year 7, while the earliest attestation of Ina-sillisarri is in year 9 (month not known).15 BM 79541 dates from Darius year 7 but, due to the fact that the

12. The traditional assumption regarding chariot ˜efs was straightforward—that they existed to resource a chariot together with its crew and support personnel. However van Driel (2002: 233) has suggested a more extensive situation in which the chariot ˜ef was grouped together with a swathe of bow ˜efs, so that in times of war the chariot was eêctively in command of an integrated ˜ghting unit. If this is correct, it should mean that the kisru of Bagapana was just such a unit. On present evidence we are unable to say on what scale this would have been constituted. 13. Dandamayev (1992: 58). Incidentally the name is the same as the Bagophanes reported by Curtius as the last treasurer of Babylon at the time of Alexander’s entry; Dandamayev (1989: 327; 1992: 59). 14. Priest: PF 337 (Darius 22); high functionary: Koch 1993: 8–12 (Darius years 18–28); functionary in the Fars bureaucracy: PF 58 (Darius 18). 15. Bongenaar (1997: 49); cf. Tarasewicz (2005).


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month name is not preserved, we cannot say whether it was written before or after the last attestation of †arru-l¿-daru. If it does come from later, it may be that there was a gap in the tenure of the o¯ce and that this accounts for the fact that no qÿpu is mentioned. Alternatively, the omission could be because the authors of the text knew that the qÿpu was absent from Sippar; it is not inconceivable that the qÿpu had in fact gone either to Babylon or even further a˜eld in order to present evidence at the hearing before Darius himself. The fact that BM 79541 lists the presence and epigraphs of the sealings but without the sealings themselves indicates that it is a copy and not the original text. At a guess the original cuneiform text may have been ˜led in Babylon, while the possibility remains that this may itself have been based on a primary document conveying Darius’s decision written on parchment in Aramaic.16 In any event, it would seem likely that a copy was placed in the archives in Susa and/or Ecbatana (cf. Ezra 6). It appears probable that the protagonists in BM 79541 were all connected with ˜efs in this northern corner of Babylonia. Certainly the use of the term nishu would be consistent with this. The mention of “third men” (taslÿsu) suggests that these were chariot ˜efs. Conceivably these third men actually lived on the land and managed it on a day to day basis. The implication would be that the commanders of the chariots (mar damqi17 ), were the proprietors of the ˜efs themselves (most likely as absentee landlords). There is nothing to determine whether the driver (mukÿl appati) resided on the estate or traveled with his master. The precise grounds for the case are lost, though it would appear to involve silver handled by Bagaåundu, while the occurrence of chief accountants suggests that there was a degree of intricacy trying to sort these matters out. It must be stressed that we do not know what scale of landholdings is being dealt with. In addition to the concession of plots for a single chariot/bow ˜ef, there was also the level of the vast estates granted to close supporters of the king.18 The fact that the household of Undaparnaå included judges indicates that his estate must certainly have belonged to this latter category.19 In the other cases there is insu¯cient evidence to tell. A taslÿsu of the bel pÿhati of Esagila is also mentioned. This suggests that if the case did revolve around ˜efs, the estates had connections with Babylon as well as Sippar and Cutha. This is not in itself improbable. Babylon, Cutha, and Sippar were all connected by the hydrological network of northern Babylonia20 and it is not surprising to ñd that tracts of land might have relations with all three cities. Most strikingly this is illustrated by Dar. 9, a text recording the allocation of work along a stretch of the Sumandar canal. The stretch in question went through the land of Babylon, Borsippa, Cutha, and Sippar and bÿt narkabtis are also mentioned. Evidently the holdings (or responsibilities) of †amas covered a stretch from the border of the land of Bel to the border of that of Nergal. Other evidence from the time of Nabonidus similarly documents the sangû of Sippar coordinating workforces from Babylon, Borsippa, and Cutha in working on the construction of the Nar sarri (Zawadzki 2005: 390). The appearance of even one rab nikkase as a witness is unusual and the appearance of two—indeed the lead witnesses—requires comment. Bongenaar, who evidently knew this text (Bongenaar 1997: 131), lists Itti-sarri-balatu but not Nabû-malik, presumably on the interpretation that the former was a rab nikkase of the Ebabbara while the latter was not. But it is not certain that either was an o¯cial of the

16. In some ways one might expect the Persian court to have communicated with Persian o¯cials in Old Persian, but if this ever actually happened there is no proof of it. 17. Presumably actually pronounced mar damq in Neo-Babylonian. The term is most often written lúDUMU dam-qa, perhaps due to the fact that it was quicker to write qa than qu, qi or qí. 18. For landholdings in the Achaemenid Empire see Dandamayev and Lukonin (1988: 134–35) and Briant (2002: 442–43). Xenophon provides a description of one such estate in Anabasis 7.8.8. 19. Thus “The owners of the large estates had at their disposal their own military detachments, judicial-administrative management, police, civil servants, and an entire staˆ of managers, chiefs of the storehouses and bookkeepers” (Dandamayev and Lukonin 1988: 141). Parysatis maintained a judge in her household; see BE 10 97: 14; RlA sub Parysatis; Stolper (2006: 465). 20. See, for example, the maps in Gasche and Tanret (1989: 49, 51, 156).

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Ebabbara, ˜rstly because this is not stated, and secondly because this text is clearly a copy (see the remarks on sealings above) and it is equally clear that the original was not drawn up in Sippar. Furthermore, if the case involved a ñancial irregularity on the part of the Ebabbara, it could well be that the rab nikkase of the Ebabbara would speci˜cally not have been among the o¯cials witnessing the decision, though it must be fairly certain that he will have been thoroughly questioned during the investigation. As regards Nabû-malik, we have already noted that he would appear to be an acculturated Mede. We do not know which institution he was attached to (as an accountant), though a department of the state rather than a temple bureaucracy would seem likely. The alternative would be that he was a freelance agent carrying out work on behalf of the crown—certainly a Mede trained in Babylonian accounting practices would have been a prized asset. Clearly Nabû-malik was exceptionally quali˜ed to participate in investigations that grappled with the interface between the Persian administration and the application of its rule on the ground as manifest in the bookkeeping of local Babylonian bureaucracies. Evidence for royal investigations into temple aâirs is not new. The roots go back into the earlier Neo-Babylonian period21 but there is also direct evidence for such interventions in the Achaemenid period. In Sippar, to date, this comes exclusively from the reign of Darius. Apart from BM 79541, there are two other principal texts to consider. The ˜rst of these is BM 62561, published by Jursa (1997), a record of a legal hearing revolving around silver ilku payments in Darius year 15. The individuals concerned initially made a statement to the sangû of Akkad and the qÿpu of the Eulmas and after due consideration the sangû of Akkad delivered his verdict in the popular assembly of Akkad. This verdict is made “in accordance with the law of Darius the king” (a-ki-i da-a-tu4 sá mDa-ri-a-mus LUGAL; BM 62561:20). The phrasing does not make it clear whether this was a verdict rendered according to the principles of the data, or whether the data is in fact this very decision. In this respect the situation is diêrent from that in BM 79541, which speci˜cally records the ipsissima verba of Darius’ decision (though the word data is not used). The second piece of evidence relevant to our discussion is Dar. 451 which, though fragmented, also records a personal ruling of Darius. We follow the edition of Jursa (1995a: 107). Dar. 451 BM 75849 Darius 21/10/17 6.5 x 4.5 + cm obverse 1 UD 21 KÁM sá itiAB MU 17 KÁM mDa-ri-ia-wus 2 sá mdNÀ-NUMUN-DÙ lúse-pi-ir ù 3 lúki-na-at-ti-sú ina UD.KIB.NUNki 4 iq-bu-ú um-ma mDa-ri-åa-sú LUGAL 5 tè-e-mu il-ta-kan um-ma 6 ªNÍG.†IDº sá mBul-ta-a lúGAL gisBÁN 7 [sá] ªdºUTU lu-ú ú-ma-åe-r[u] (break of a few lines)

21. Frame (1991); cf. MacGinnis (2002a: 225). There is evidence for producing documents from as far back as the time of Ashurbanipal: YOS 19: 92; cf. Dandamayev (2001: 701). A royal judge is also mentioned in BM 68713: rev. 4 (year 13, probably of Nabonidus). Evidence for Persian involvement in temple aâirs is furnished by Darius’ part in appointing a new lesonis o¯cial in the temple of Khnum at Elephantine (Martin 1996: 291). For a more general review of Achaemenid policy with regard to temples see Dandamayev and Lukonin (1988: 360–61).

One Line Short


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reverse 1u ù gisDAmes-sú ù ú-ìl-timmes-sú 2u ªli-mur-åº [ki]-ªiº ri-ha-[ni]-sú 3u ina IGI lúªENGARº [ME† u lúNU.GI†].†AR.ME† 4u i-ba-ás-s[u-ú lúENGAR.ME†] u lúNU.GI†.†AR.ME† 5u lúSANGA Sip-par[ki ù lúUMBISAG].ME† 6u li-is-si-r[u-ma a-n]a É 7u DINGIR.ME† lid-din-n[u-su]-nu-[tú] Note l. 2 The particle sa appears here to have the meaning of “when.” rev. 2u rehetu (of dates) are also recorded in BM 76019: rev. 4u and BM 101820: rev. 4u. Translation Day 21 of the month of Tebetu of Darius year 17 when Nabû-zer-ukÿn the sepÿru and his colleagues said in Sippar: Darius the king has made a decision, saying “I have ordered an accounting of Bultaya the rab s¿ti [of ] †amas. [. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .]. Let [. . .] inspect his writing boards and debt notes! If there are still outstanding assets of his with the farmers and gardeners, let the sangû of Sippar and the [scribes] demand (them) [from the farmers] and gardeners so that they give them to the temple.” Discussion Although the damage to Dar. 451 does not allow a deñitive interpretation, it is nevertheless clear that it too transmits a personal ruling of Darius himself. But in contrast to BM 79541 and BM 62561, Dar. 451 is not a fully formatted document with details of judges, interested parties and witnesses—it is just a short note recording this ruling. This does seem surprising. The most likely explanation is that the ruling was conveyed in Aramaic—hence the prominence of the sepÿru (as opposed to the sangû, qÿpu, and scribes)—and that Dar. 451 is simply a brief note recording this ruling, translated into Akkadian in cuneiform. Nevertheless, it is evident that Dar. 451 deals with the s¿tu concession of Bultaya (a wellknown rab s¿ti). Considering the fact that Dar. 451 is the last attestation of Bultaya as rab s¿ti, it is highly plausible that it conveyed a decision from Darius ordering Bultaya to surrender his concession. No reason is given, but given the nature of Darius’ rule it is legitimate to ask whether this was not a case of fraud or embezzlement and that Bultaya was in reality being relieved of his position. In this light, a ñal item of interest is a text in the possession of Westminster College, Cambridge,22 a dialogue contract dated to Darius year 8 in which a certain Iqîsa-Marduk son of Etel-pÿ-†amas relinquishes his s¿tu concession (incidentally this is the ˜rst known case of such a step). Iqîsa-Marduk was not the rab s¿ti of the time—this was still Bultaya (Bongenaar 1997: 428)—and again no reason is given for the relinquishing. It could have been for any number of reasons, such as shortage of workmen, or perhaps he was too old, or himself unequal to the task, but here too we may wonder whether IqîsaMarduk was not forced into this position by a crackdown on corruption.

22. Westminster C9/15/4 No.2 (MacGinnis 2007: No. 1).

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Darius and the Rule of Law BM 79541 presents new evidence for the discussion of the legal regime in force in the Achaemenid empire, a topic on which much has been written.23 With regard to data, prevailing opinion has moved away from the implication that Darius promulgated a uniform law code throughout his empire; according to Dandamayev and Lukonin “In all probability, reference here is to the general legal order established by the Achaemenids, and not to a single uniform legal code which, despite Olmstead’s opinion to the contrary, scarcely existed at all.”24 The conclusion of Briant, who marshaled evidence from all parts of the empire—Egypt, Judah, Babylonia, Elam and Lycia—was that “All of these comparisons con˜rm that the translation of data as “law” is at best ambiguous; in every case, the translation ‘regulation’ is probably closer to the administrative reality” (Briant 2002: 957). In the words of Stolper, “the edict’s [datu] force was not so much juridical as administrative, that is, it was not a ‘law’ . . . aêcting the legal behavior of the society at large, but a standing order instructing temple personnel in how to handle assets in which the crown held an interest” (Stolper 1993: 61). To the extent that we know of disputes over temple land that were indeed ruled on “according to the data of Darius the king” there is truth in this: the ruling concerning the Eulmas of Akkad mentioned above is a case in point, as of course is our present text. However, it is very probable that our judgement is skewed by the fact that temple archives constitute such a major proportion of our sources; in reality the force of the datu must have applied to all aspects of life in Babylonia. Indeed, in a recent addition to the data, a ruling on a case concerning the illegal appropriation of a slave woman,25 the authors point out that this is the ˜rst evidence for data bearing on criminal oênces. They also postulate the existence of “a royal rulebook regulating diêrent cases of disputes over the status of slaves.” This may or may not be correct; another interpretation of the fact that “the Sinmagir and the judges opened the (royal) regulation” (lú.d30-ma-gi-ir ù [lúDI].KUDmes lúki-na-atmes-sú da-a-ti ip-tu-ú-å-i)26 could be that this refers to the opening of an Aramaic scroll recording the decision. All this notwithstanding, it still remains possible and in fact probable that even if he did not promulgate a unitary code across the empire, Darius may at any rate have commanded a recension of Babylonian law. The best support for this comes from the fact that this is exactly what happened in Egypt. In this case we know that Darius sent a letter to his satrap in Egypt ordering him to assemble a group of experts chosen from priests, soldiers, and scribes and commissioned them to gather in writing all the old laws of Egypt down to year 44 of the Pharaoh Amasis (i.e., up to the eve of the Persian invasion; Briant 2002: 474, 477). No direct record of their work survives, however an insight into what Darius’s Egyptian law may have been like is aôrded by comparison with the “Legal Code of Hermopolis West,” a document from the Ptolemaic period that does survive and that is thought to have been modeled on Darius’s work. In Briant’s words, “More than a law code in the strict sense, it is a collection of legal precedents dealing basically with leases and property disputes. The judge could easily ñd the path to follow in each case that turned up” (Briant 2002: 474; cf. Dandamayev and Lukonin 1989: 125). As with Babylonia, the fact that the actual cases we know about concerned temples is probably just a re˘ection of the sources at our disposal.

23. Olmstead (1948: 119–20, 128–29); Oppenheim (1985: 547–48); Kuhrt (1988: 132); Dandamayev and Lukonin (1989: 116–17, 191, 301); Joannès (1990: 179); Dandamayev (1992: 9, 42, 134); Stolper (1993: 260; 1994: 338–41); Briant (2002: 474, 477, 510–11, 948, 955–57, 982); Jursa, Paszkowiak, and Waerzeggers (2003–2004: 259). 24. Dandamayev and Lukonin (1989: 117). The translation in the Babylonian version of the Behistun inscription of data as dÿnatu does little to resolve the matter as dÿnu can mean lawsuit, verdict, punishment as well as a law (see Dandamayev 1992: 42; CAD dÿnu). 25. Jursa, Paszkowiak, and Waerzeggers (2003–2004: 255). 26. Jursa, Paszkowiak, and Waerzeggers (2003–2004: 256 l. 14).


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It is highly likely that what was carried out in Egypt will have been repeated in other parts of the empire, and for the same reason: In order to perform their duties correctly, it was essential for the judges of the king to be fully acquainted with native law. The complete law in Achaemenid Babylonia will therefore have consisted of indigenous law,27 collected and redacted as above, supplemented by the case law of rulings by the king, the data sa sarri. A corollary to this is that the precepts of the data were not universal but rather satrapy-speci˜c, that is, a ruling with regard to a temple in Egypt might very well have been incorporated into Egyptian case law, but is unlikely to have been held as applicable to the temples of Babylonia and elsewhere. In conclusion, fragmentary though it is, BM 79541 presents us with a coherent picture of an adjudication of a dispute between the native administration and the Persian aristocracy. If our interpretation is correct, the text deals with a con˘ict of interest that arose between the temple communities and individuals in possession of chariot ˜efs in the Babylon-Sippar-Cutha triangle. The case was evidently referred to the judges of the king and thence on to Darius himself. Damage to the text means that the exact nature of the dispute is not known, but it is highly probable that it involved the processing of payments of silver incumbent on the enfeoêd land. In any event, the upshot was that the Ebabbara had to pay one talent of silver to the judges. Whether this was because the Ebabbara had acted fraudulently or whether it was due to an administrative confusion between the parties involved we cannot say. But the fact that at least two master accountants were involved—one of whom was a Mede, the other from the Cutha administration—demonstrates that the aâir was resolved by close inspection of the books. The fact that the eventual verdict was made by Darius himself illustrates the strong leadership and command of detail that made his rule so robust. Whatever the rights or wrongs of the case, Darius clearly came down in favor of his nobles. This tablet aôrds us an extraordinary snapshot into the machinations of power and interest in Achaemenid Babylonia. References Briant, P. 2002 From Cyrus to Alexander: A History of the Persia Empire. Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns. Dandamayev, M. A. 1989 A Political History of the Achaemenid Empire. Leiden: Brill. 1992 Iranians in Achaemenid Babylonia. Costa Mesa, CA: Mazda. 1994 Achaemenid Mesopotamia: Traditions and Innovations. Pp. 229–34 in Proceedings of the Last Achaemenid History Workshop, ed. H. Sancisi-Weerdenburg, A. Kuhrt, and M. C. Root. Leiden: Brill. 1995 The Ebabbar temple and Iranian Magi. AoF 22: 34–36. 2001 Review of P.-A. Beaulieu, Legal and Administrative Texts From the Reign of Nabonidus (YOS 19). JAOS 121: 700–702. 2006 Neo-Babylonian and Achaemenid State Administration in Mesopotamia. Pp. 373–78 in Judah and Judeans in the Persian Period, ed. O. Lipschits and M. Oeming. Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns. Dandamayev, M. A., and Lukonin, V. G. 1989 The Culture and Social Institutions of Ancient Iran. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Frame, G. 1991 Nabonidus, Nabû-sarra-usur and the Eanna Temple. ZA 81: 37–86. Gasche, H., and Tanret, M. 1998 Changing Watercourses in Babylonia: Towards a Reconstruction of the Ancient Environment in Lower Mesopotamia, Vol. 1. Mesopotamia History and Environment Series II Memoirs V. Chicago: The Oriental Institute of the University of Chicago. 27. In the context of which it is highly probable that the Code of Hammurapi was known to the Persian judiciaries. It was still being copied and studied in the Neo-Babylonian period and, as is well known, some provisions were still in force, notably the thirty-fold repayment of property stolen from the temple; MacGinnis (1998: 211) with references, also the remarks of Kozuh (2006: 121–22).

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Gibson, G. McG. 1974 Coins as a Tool in Archeological Surface Survey. Pp. 9–14 in Near Eastern Numismatics, Iconography, Epigraphy and History: Studies in Honor of George C. Miles. Beirut: American University in Beirut. Joannès, F. 1990 Pouvoirs locaux et organisation du territoire en Babylonie achéménide. Transeuphratène 3: 73–89. Jursa, M. 1995a Die Landwirtschaft in Sippar in neubabylonischer Zeit. Vienna: Institut für Orientalistik. 1995b Zu NABU 1995/4. NABU 1995/3 No. 61. 1997 Nochmals Akkad. WZKM 87: 101–10. 1999 Das Archiv des Bel-remanni. PIHANS 86. Istanbul: Nederlands Instituut voor het Nabije Oosten. 2003a Spätachämenidische Texte aus Kutha. RA 97: 43–140. 2003b Observations on the Problem of the “Median” Empire on the Basis of Babylonian Sources. Pp. 169–79 in Continuity of Empire(?)—Assyria, Media, Persia, ed. G. Lanfranchi, M. Roaf, and R. Rollinger. Padova: SARGON. 2007 The Transition of Babylonia from the Neo-Babylonian Empire to Achaemenid Rule. Pp. 73–94 in Regime Change in the Ancient Near East and Egypt: From Sargon of Agade to Saddam Hussein, ed. H. Crawford. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Jursa, M.; Paszkowiak, J.; and Waerzeggers, C. 2003– Three Court Records. AfO 50: 255–68. 2004 King, L. W. 1915 Bronze Reliefs from the Gates of Shalmaneser, King of Assyria B.C, 860–825. London: Trustees of The British Museum. Koch, H. 1993 Achaemeniden-Studien. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz. Kozuh, M. 2006 The Sacri˜cial Economy: On the Management of Sacri˜cial Sheep and Goats at the Neo-Babylonian/ Achaemenid Eanna Temple of Uruk (c. 625–520 BC). Ph.D. dissertation, University of Chicago. Kuhrt, A. 1988 Babylonia from Cyrus to Xerxes. Pp. 112–38 in Cambridge Ancient History, Vol. 4, ed. J. Boardman. 2nd edition. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. MacGinnis, J. D. A. 1994 The Royal Establishment at Sippar in the Sixth Century BC. ZA 84: 198–219. 1995a Letter Orders from Sippar and the Administration of the Ebabbara in the Late Babylonian Period. Poznan: Bonami. 1995b The satammu of Sippar. WO 26: 21–26. 1996 A Further Note on the zazakku. NABU 1996/1 No. 29. 1997 Kizû’s of the Ebabbara. RA 91: 81–87. 1998 Ordering the House of †amas: Management Texts from the Neo-Babylonian Ebabbara. Iraq 60: 207–17. 2002a The Use of Writing Boards in the Neo-Babylonian Administration at Sippar. Iraq 64: 217–36. 2002b Working in Elam. Pp. 177–82 in Mining the Archives: Festschrift Christopher Walker, ed. C. Wunsch. Dresden: ISLET. 2007 Fields of Endeavour: Leasing and Releasing the Lands of †amas. JEOL 40. In press The Arrows of the Sun: Armed Forces in Sippar in the First Millennium BC. Dresden: ISLET. Martin, C. J. 1996 Demotic Texts. Pp. 277–385 in The Elephantine Papyri in English, ed. B. Porten. Leiden: Brill. Mayrhofer, M. 1973 Onomastica Persepolitana. Vienna: Österreichische Akademie der Wissenschaft. Olmstead, A. T. 1948 History of the Persian Empire. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Oppenheim, A. L. 1985 The Babylonian Evidence for Achaemenian Rule in Mesopotamia. Pp. 529–87 in Cambridge History of Iran, Vol. 2, ed. I. Gershevitch. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.


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Porten, B. 1996 The Elephantine Papyri in English: Three Millennia of Cross-Cultural Continuity and Change. DMOA 22. Leiden: Brill. Stolper M. W. 1989a The Governor of Babylon and Across-the-river in 486 B.C. JNES 48: 283–305. 1989b Registration and Taxation of Slaves in Achaemenid Babylonia. ZA 79: 80–101. 1993 Late Achaemenid, Early Macedonian and Early Seleucid Records of Deposit and Related Texts. AION Supplement 77. Naples: Istituto Orientale. 1994 On Some Aspects of Continuity Between Achaemenid and Hellenistic Babylonian Legal Texts. Pp. 329–52 in Achaemenid History VII Continuity and Change, eds. H. Sancisi-Weerdenburg, A. Kuhrt, and M. Root. Leiden: Brill. 2006 Parysatis in Babylon. Pp. 463–71 in “If a Man Builds a Joyful House”: Assyriological Studies in Honor of Erle Verdun Leichty, ed. A. K. Guinan, et al. Leiden: Brill. Tarasewicz, R. 2005 A New Data Concerning qÿpu of the Ebabbara Temple from Sippar. NABU 2005/3 No. 58. van Driel, G. 1987 Continuity or Decay in the Late Achaemenid Period: Evidence from South Mesopotamia. Pp. 159–81 in Achaemenid History I: Sources, Structures and Synthesis, ed. H. Sancisi-Weerdenburg. Leiden: Brill. 2002 Elusive Silver—In Search of a Role for a Market in an Agrarian Environment: Aspects of Mesopotamian Society. Leiden: Brill. Waerzeggers, C. 2003 The Babylonian Revolts against Xerxes and the End of the Archives. AfO 50: 150–73. Wunsch, C. 2000 Die Richter des Nabonid. Pp. 557–97 in Assyriologica et Semitica: Festschrift für Joachim Oelsner, eds. J. Marzahn and H. Neumann. AOAT 252. Münster: Ugarit-Verlag. Zadok, R. 1982 Iranian and Babylonian Notes. AfO 28: 135–39. 2004 Old Iranian Anthroponyms in Late Babylonian Sources. RA 98: 109–20. Zawadzki, S. 2005 The Building Project North of Sippar in the Time of Nabonidus. Pp. 381–92 in Approaching the Babylonian Economy, eds. H. D. Baker and M. Jursa. AOAT 330. Münster: Ugarit-Verlag. Zettler, R. 1979 On the Chronological Range of Neo-Babylonian Seals. JNES 38: 257–70.

REVIEW ARTICLE SCHRIFT UND PHONEME IM REICHSAKKADISCHEN Jan Keetman (Istanbul)

In der Entwicklung der syllabischen Keilschrift bedeutet die Zeit des akkadischen Reiches, insbesondere die zweite Hälfte unter Naram-Suåen und †arkalisarrÿ eine wichtige Stufe. Das Schriftsystem der etwas älteren Texte aus Ebla ist für eine sprachliche Untersuchung weit weniger geeignet. Dies gilt auch für die älteren semitischen Zeugnisse aus Mesopotamien selbst, die ohnehin spärlich sind. Damit kommt den sargonischen Texten eine besondere Rolle für die Semitistik zu. Rebecca Hasselbach hat nun diesen Texten eine Monographie gewidmet1, die das schon seit längerem überholte Standardwerk von Ignace J. Gelb, Old Akkadian Grammar and Writing in Teilen ersetzt2. Mein ursprünglicher Plan war es, einen Review Article zu verfassen, der nur einige Thesen Hasselbachs herausgreift, aber nicht allen Kleinigkeiten nachgeht. Bei der genauen Lektüre ergaben sich aber so viele Probleme, dass sich der Autor gezwungen sah, doch auch Erbsen zu zählen. Vokale In den letzten Jahren hat vor allem Walter Sommerfeld die Erforschung des Reichsakkadischen3 vorangebracht. Insbesondere gelang ihm der Nachweis, dass e und i im Reichsakkadischen besser getrennt werden als im späteren Akkadischen. Ein wesentlicher Unterschied Hasselbachs zu Sommerfelds Arbeiten besteht darin, dass Sommerfeld dazu neigt, ein o im Reichsakkadischen zu vermuten, während Hasselbach skeptischer ist. Es emp˜ehlt sich, hierzu beide Autoren zu lesen, da Hasselbach Sommerfelds Argumente nicht vollständig referiert. Bei der Analyse der Zeichenpaare DU/TU, GU/KU vermutet Hasselbach, Sommerfeld beziehe sich bei seinem sehr vagen Hinweis auf die Möglichkeit von u/o auf die Verben I-w (S. 57–58) und ñdet das Präsens *tawassab > tussab/*tossab als einzige mögliche Quelle für die Bildung von o (S. 59). 1. Hasselbach (2005), hier nur durch Angabe der Seitenzahl zitiert. 2. Gelb (1961). Für das Ur III-Akkadische vgl. mittlerweile Hilgert (2002). Es fehlt im wesentlichen eine Aufarbeitung der semitischen Personennamen vor Ur III speziell unter sprachlichen Gesichtspunkten. 3. Seitdem der Begriˆ Altakkadisch/Old Akkadian ausgedient hat, fehlt ein passendes Wort für das Akkadische zur Zeit des Reiches von Akkad. Weit verbreitet sind die Bezeichnungen Sargonic und Presargonic, doch sie bezeichnen eine Zeitstufe, keine Sprachstufe und werden beispielsweise von PSD auch für das Sumerische verwandt. Deshalb mein Versuch, mit der zugegeben etwas geschwollenen Bezeichnung „Reichsakkadisch“. Mit dieser Benennung kommt auch die Ansicht zum Ausdruck, dass die Entstehung eines Großreiches zur Veränderung der Schrift, wahrscheinlich auch zu Veränderungen in der Sprache beigetragen hat, obwohl es keine ganz einheitliche Schriftsprache des Reiches von Akkad gab.

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Ein wirkliches Argument für o würde sich nur ergeben, wenn es eine exklusive Schreibung genau für diese Form gäbe. Zu akzeptieren wäre noch eine Analogiebildung des Präteritums mit o. Das Zeichen TU steht aber auch in anderen Fällen, insbesondere für den maskulinen Plural und den Subjunktiv nach Dental und gelegentlich auch sonst. Sommerfelds Kontrastbeispiel, nämlich Formen der Wurzel tkl, geschrieben mit DU für /tu/ (Sommerfeld 1999: 21), kommt weitgehend aus den Personennamen und wird von Hasselbach nicht erwähnt, obwohl sie an anderer Stelle die Personennamen berücksichtigt. Hier wäre eine Untersuchung des Verhältnisses der Orthographie der Personennamen zur normalen Orthographie dringend notwendig gewesen. Hingewiesen sei auf Sommerfelds Beispiel für einen Unterschied zwischen den Zeichen DU und TU is-du-tu = /jisdud¿/ „sie zogen“, wobei das du über ein gelöschtes tu geschrieben wurde (Sommerfeld 1999: 21). Zu DU führt Hasselbach aus, DU für Dental + /u/ sei außerhalb von Personennamen „hardly used at all“ (S. 59). Es folgen 4 Belege, von denen sie indirekt sagt, dass es alle seien4. Nicht erwähnt werden der wichtige Beleg is-du-tu sowie drei weitere Belege zum Präteritum von sadadum, die sich in ihrem Index ñden (S. 284) und das von ihr selbst u.a. ebenfalls im Index zitierte ib-du-kam /jiptuqam/ (OSP 2 16 iv 8). Kritisieren kann man auch Hasselbachs Ausführungen zur Schreibung der Wurzel kwn5. Sommerfeld hatte die Verteilung der Zeichen GU/KU bei dieser Wurzel etwas ungenau aber nicht völlig falsch beschrieben: „Bei den Präteritalformen des Verbums kânum ,dauerhaft sein‘ ñdet regelmäßig das Zeichen GU Verwendung (. . .) KU dagegen ist hier nur ganz vereinzelt in Satznamen (. . .) anzutreên“ (Sommerfeld 1999: 21). Den zweiten Teil dieser Aussage übergeht Hasselbach völlig6 und kommt so zu ihrer vernichtenden Kritik: „Most of the attestations are found in personal names, and the evidence here is far from being uniform. Of the names quoted under this root in MAD 3, only four are written with GU, the other 13 are written with KU“ (S. 60). Hier stellt sich auch die Frage der Abgrenzung zwischen Akkad-Zeit und Ur III. Außerdem oênbart Hasselbach, dass sie selbst keine Sammlung zu den Eigennamen angelegt hat, die zwar nicht zu dem von ihr abgegrenzten Thema gehören, aber für Vergleiche herangezogen werden sollten und von ihr auch herangezogen werden, wenn auch völlig unsystematisch.

4. S. 59 „ . . . half of its attestations defy certain interpretation. Only two can be analysed with certainty“. 5. Ich konnte keine Stelle ñden, an der Hasselbach auf die andere Auâssung solcher Wurzeln als k¿n, dÿn etc. eingehen würde. Da sie aus der angenommenen Existenz eines Gleitlautes Schlüsse zieht (z.B. S. 61), hätte sie das Problem wenigstens kurz erwähnen müssen. Für eine andere Auâssung vgl. z.B. GAG 3 § 104; Ungnad 1969: § 82; Buccellati 1996: § 44. Wer an kwn festhält, muss zumindest zugeben, dass man, aus welchen Gründen auch immer, die Formen dieser Verben nicht erhält, indem man w bzw. j einsetzt und dann die üblichen Lautgesetze anwendet. Wir müssten einen Inñitiv *kawanum ansetzen, haben jedoch babyl. kânum, assyr. kuanum, vgl. jedoch awatum „Wort“. Der Stativ wird assyr. als ken, babyl. kÿn gebildet, der Stativ von lawûm „umgeben, belagern“ aber als lawi. Babyl. ist das Präsens ilawwi belegt (RA 40 [ ] 91, 33: i-la-a-wi), der D-Stamm von kwn lautete aber ukÿn, assyr. ukaååin. In njk „beschlafen“ müssten wir ausgehend vom Inñitiv *najakum annehmen, dass das j, obwohl zur zweiten Silbe gehörend, die erste Silbe beein˘usste, schwand und durch Stimmabsatz ersetzt wurde, um zum Inñitiv niakum zu kommen, während majjalum „Lager“ nicht zu *mijalum bzw. *mialum wurde etc. Ein Beispiel, das zu denken geben sollte, sind auch die stark instabilen Bildungen im †-Stamm der Verben I-w, wo Formen vom Typ us¿sab, usasab, usesib zum Teil bei der gleichen Wurzel wechseln. Vgl. GAG 3 § 103s, u, v. Der Schluss aus alledem sollte zumindest sein, dass sich Lautgesetze nicht mit Hilfe der theoretischen Formen schwacher Verben aufstellen lassen, weil sie entweder tatsächlich nicht von j/w ausgehen oder weil andere Analogiebildungen die Zusammenhänge zu den theoretischen Ausgangsformen nach dem Vorbild des starken Verbums längst überlagert haben. Die Vernachlässigung des Problems rächt sich wenn Hasselbach Schwierigkeiten bekommt zu erklären, warum bei Antritt von Vokalen nach Verben III-j nicht die sonst für jV gebräuchlichen Zeichen verwendet werden und zwar durchgehend. S. 89–90. 6. Man kann natürlich die Meinung vertreten, bei der Untersuchung der Aussprache sollte es nicht so relevant sein, ob ein Wort für sich oder in einem Satz gebraucht wird. Doch zunächst sollte deskriptiv gesagt werden was ist und erst dann die Analyse folgen. Es ist auch nicht prinzipiell auszuschließen, dass sich orthographische oder sprachliche Besonderheiten gerade in den Satznamen erhalten haben.

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Genaueres über die Schreibung von kwn erfährt man von Hilgert. Hilgert stellt fest, dass Satznamen vom Typ Ik¿n-GN und Ik¿n-pÿ(-GN) sowohl in Ur III-Zeitlichen als auch Akkad-Zeitlichen Texten mit KU geschrieben werden7. Hingegen folgt auf die Dominanz von Schreibungen mit GU in der AkkadZeit bei Jik¿num, ein wechselnder Gebrauch von GU und KU bei diesem Namen in der Ur III-Zeit8. Außerdem nennt Hilgert 8 Belege für die Schreibung des Namens Tak¿na als da-gu-na in der AkkadZeit9 und weist auf den Ur III-Zeitlichen Namen is-ku/GU-un-é-a als Vergleich hin (Hilgert 2002: 127). Mit großer Wahrscheinlichkeit handelt es sich einfach um traditionelle Schreibungen10, wobei KU die mehr traditionsgebundene, GU die freiere Variante verkörpert. Dafür spricht, dass KU in diesem Zusammenhang nicht nur für /ku/, sondern auch für die geschlossene Silbe /k¿n/ gebraucht wird11 und dass GU als phonetisches Hilfszeichen für KU in diesem Zusammenhang gebraucht werden kann12 und schließlich das Hereinragen der Bevorzugung von KU bei Satznamen in die nächste Epoche. Die bei Götternamen, wie z.B. dé - a, dè r - r a, dz a - b a4 - b a4 usw. in allen Epochen häu˜g anzutreênden von der normalen Orthographie abweichenden traditionellen Schreibungen ñden sich in geringerer Zahl auch in den nichttheophoren Elementen von Personennamen. Z.B. wird in der Ur III-Zeit bù/pù ausschließlich in Personennamen verwendet, á nur in einem bestimmten Typ von Personennamen13. Trotz allem könnte Hasselbach mit ihrer Skepsis Recht haben, schließlich hat auch Sommerfeld nicht behauptet, seine Beobachtungen zu DU/TU, GU/KU würden einen Wechsel o/u beweisen, sondern deutet diese Möglichkeit nur an (Sommerfeld 1999: 22 oben). Andererseits liegt oênsichtlich keine zufällige Verteilung vor und daher drängt sich die Vermutung auf, dass wir die Gründe für die Verteilung der Zeichen weiter nicht verstehen. Sommerfeld versucht nur in einem Zusammenhang, o wirklich zu beweisen. Er stellt die maskulinen Su¯xe des Genitivs -su und des Akkusativs -su4 den entsprechenden femininen Su¯xen -sa und -si gegenüber. Für den strickt durchgehaltenen Wechsel in der Schreibung macht er eine analoge Aufspaltung in den hohen Vokal /u/ und den niedrigeren /o/ verantwortlich, so dass sich nun zwei vordere und zwei hintere Vokale gegenüberstehen14, die sich jeweils nach der Mundöˆnung unterscheiden. Die Unterschiede sind dann mit Genitiv a zu u und Akkusativ i zu o maximal gewählt. Dies würde erklären, warum su4, außer in der Diyala-Region, wo ein anderer Zeichengebrauch vorliegen mag, nicht mit su wechselt. Für die angenommene sprachliche Entwicklung verweist Sommerfeld auf Beispiele aus anderen Sprachen. So lange es keine überzeugenden weiteren Beispiele für eine Diêrenzierung zwischen u und o im Reichsakkadischen gibt, ist man nicht gezwungen, Sommerfelds Erklärung zu folgen.

7. Die Regel ist nicht ganz ohne Ausnahme. Siehe È-GU-da-gan, OSP 1 47 v 8 (Akkad-Zeit); I-GU-ì-lí , ELTS 15 vi 19 (Fara-Zeit oder wenig später). 8. Hilgert (2002: 126). Genauer gesagt ist GU auf Girsu/Lagas und „Botenlohnurkunden“ auch außerhalb von Lagas beschränkt. Siehe Hilgert (2002: 126 Anm. 67 und S. 361) sowie Index s.v. Die „Botenlohnurkunden“ erweisen sich auch sonst als eine Quelle ungewöhnlicher Schreibungen für das Ur III-Akkadische. 9. Hilgert (2002: 127 mit Anm. 71). Für Jik¿num, geschrieben i-gu-núm, vgl. z.B. MAD 4 4 (Tell Asmar); Tutub 12, 33u; 30, 7; Di 3, 2, CNI 3, 15, 5 i-gu-n[úm] (Nippur). In beiden Fällen sind mir keine Gegenbeispiele für Schreibungen mit KU aus der Akkad-Zeit bekannt. 10. Sommerfeld (1999: 21) denkt an eine „diêrente Artikulation“ aufgrund von Akzentverlagerung in den Satznamen. Eine solche These bräuchte aber Unterstützung durch andere Beispiele. 11. Die Schreibung nur mit KU erscheint etwas zu oft, um jeweils anzunehmen, dass das n immer einer Verkürzung des Namens zum Opfer gefallen ist. Zur Schreibung von KVK-Silben nur mit KV-Zeichen in der Fara-Zeit vgl. Krebernik (1998: 271). 12. Siehe I-guKU-DINGIR = jik¿n-il(um), ELTS 35 i 6 und I-KUgu-il 37 iii 4 (beide präsargonisch) OIP 99 113 Rs. i 3; 268 x 13; 479 (Kolophone, Tell Ab¿ Salabÿh). 13. Vgl. die Zeichenliste bei Hilgert (2002). 14. Da man a kaum als vorderen Vokal bezeichnen kann, wäre es besser von einem Paar mit gespreizten Lippen und einem Paar mit gerundeten Lippen zu sprechen.

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Hasselbach referiert und kritisiert Sommerfelds Überlegung mit nur einem Satz, den sie in die Fußnoten setzt: „Sommerfeld suggested that the diêrence of the two spellings might be one of vowel quality (Sommerfeld 2003: 576), but he does not provide any phonological explanation why one of the two su¯xes should have changed its original vowel“15. Hasselbachs eigene Erklärung der Opposition su : su4 hängt aber nicht weniger in der Luft als Sommerfelds Idee. Nach Hasselbach hat eine Vermischung des Akkusativsu¯xes mit dem anaphorischen Pronomen stattgefunden. Dieses sei als *suåa zu rekonstruieren16 und habe sich über *suå zu *s¿ entwickelt. Hasselbach fügt dann hinzu, dass dies nicht bedeuten muss, dass sargonisch noch ein phonetischer Unterschied bestand (S. 155). Hasselbach stützt ihre Argumentation mit einem Hinweis auf die femininen Formen des Akkusativsu¯xes ab, die nur im Akkadischen i haben und daher wahrscheinlich in Analogie zum anaphorischen Pronomen gebildet wurde (S. 155 Anm. 28). Eine Aufteilung von SU = /su/ und SU4 = /s¿/ ist aber nicht nachzuweisen und ähnliche Darstellungen einer Vokallänge ebenfalls nicht. Dieser Einwand ist nicht dadurch zu entkräften, dass man diesen Unterschied in eine unbestimmte Vergangenheit projiziert. Der Wechsel von -sù zu -su bei dem Possessivsu¯x (S. 71) spricht auch eher für graphische Diskontinuität, wenn es keinen besonderen Grund für Kontinuität gab. Das macht es noch unwahrscheinlicher, dass eine alte Spezialisierung SU4 = /s¿/ zwar aufgegeben wurde, die davon abgeleitete Verwendung aber dann doch an einigen Stellen als graphische Kontinuität überdauert hat. Das anaphorische Pronomen der 3. P. m. Sing. im Akkusativ lautet sargonisch noch immer su4-a und nur im Nominativ su4. Nach Hasselbach sollte der Akkusativ *suåa lauten und *su-a geschrieben werden. Entsprechendes gilt für den Plural des Akkusativs m. der su4-nu-ti geschrieben wird und als *sun¿ti (sun¿ti) zu rekonstruieren ist. Außerdem würde Hasselbachs Theorie bedeuten, dass sich das Akkusativsu¯x nach dem anaphorischen Pronomen des Nominativs, nicht des Akkusativs richtete. Es sei denn man baut einen weiteren Schritt -suåa > -suå > -s¿ (> -su) ein. Denkbar ist ein Kompromiss zwischen Sommerfelds und Hasselbachs Ideen: Im Akkusativ färbte das folgende a das u von *suåa17 zu o18. Dieses o wurde auch für das Su¯x übernommen, wobei dieser Vorgang dadurch unterstützt wurde, dass so das von Sommerfeld angenommene symmetrisch verteilte Quartet der femininen Su¯xe -sa, -si und der maskulinen Su¯xe -su, -so entstand. Gleichzeitig müsste man annehmen, dass dieses o für die m. anaphorischen Pronomen paradigmatisiert wurde. Damit wäre der Gegensatz o zu i auch bei den anaphorischen Pronomen aufgenommen worden. Das Su¯x des Akkusativs im Plural -su-nu wäre nicht erfasst worden, vielleicht weil der Kontrast -sunu/-sina ausreichte. Doch auch dieser Kompromiss steht ohne weitere Argumente für o auf schwachen Füßen19. Hasselbach hält die Interpretation von É als h + ä anstelle von h + a durch Westenholz20 für nicht notwendig, denn die volle Hebung a > e in Gegenwart von h, geschrieben mit e sei im sargonischen Akkadischen belegt. „Furthermore the sign É is also used in environments in which we would not expect a change in vowel quality such as the word /hawatum/ ,word‘ “21. 15. S. 155 Anm. 26, ähnlich S. 71 Anm. 139. 16. Der gegenwärtige Autor würde *suåa rekonstruieren, s.u. 17. Vgl. die Ausführungen zu s unten. 18. Eine Vereinfachung uåa zu oa könnte vom Sumerischen angestoßen worden sein, denn das Sumerische vermeidet die unmittelbare Folge zweier Vokale in Wurzeln fast völlig und kombiniert auch selten u und a. 19. Beachte auch, dass SU4 = SI-gunû auch die Lesung s i4 hat. Geht man von dem Prinzip aus, dass einem akkadischen Lautwert ein nicht notwendig identischer, aber ähnlicher sumerischer Lautwert zugrunde liegt, so spricht das Splitting su4/si4 eher gegen /so/. 20. S. 101 zu Westenholz (1974a: 22). Vgl. auch Keetman (2004a). Ich hatte Westenholz an dieser Stelle übersehen. 21. S. 101. Das Beispiel /hawatum/ steht wohl alleine. Es gibt noch É-zum neben A-zum „zornig“ (MAD 1 192, 3–4 Tell Asmar). Der Wechsel mag mit der Schwierigkeit der Darstellung von çain zusammenhängen und ist daher kein Beweis für die Qualität des Vokals und wird von Hasselbach folgerichtig auch nicht zitiert. Um solchen Fragen nachzugehen wäre eine Zeichenliste mit Belegstellen, wie sie Markus Hilgert für das Ur III-Akkadische geschaên hat, notwendig gewesen.


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In den Fällen, in denen das Zeichen E geschrieben wird, ist h in keiner Weise in der Schrift markiert und es ist daher möglich anzunehmen, dass a > e stattgefunden hat und h geschwunden ist. Also sagen diese Belege nichts über den Klang eines a in Gegenwart von h. Eine andere Erklärung wäre, dass E zwar wie É für die Vokalqualität ä gebraucht werden konnte, dass aber É ausgesondert wurde, um im Akkadischen h + ä zu schreiben. Das Sumerische, aus dem die Lautwerte letztlich entliehen sind, hatte mit großer Wahrscheinlichkeit ein stark oênes ‰, das einem ä nahe kommen könnte (Keetman 2005: 10). É wird anscheinend nie einfach für /a/ gebraucht, außer in Gegenwart von h, h und vielleicht Ø. Dabei ist h der bei weitem häu˜gste Fall. Mithin spricht nichts dagegen, dass dieses Zeichen eine Behelfslösung zur Schreibung von h war und dann ebenfalls behelfsmäßig für h verwandt wurde. Möglichkeit von aj > e > ÿ Bezüglich des Lautwandels aj > e führt Hasselbach aus, dass er nicht notwendig eine Isoglosse zum Assyrischen darstelle. Der Lautwandel könnte im Babylonischen in zwei Schritten vollzogen worden sein, nämlich aj > e > ÿ (S. 91 Anm. 186). Der zweite Schritt setzt aber im Babylonischen oênbar den ersten voraus, denn sonst bleibt e erhalten. Ein Lautwandel kann aber kaum auf eine Form Rücksicht nehmen, die längst nicht mehr gesprochen wurde. Mithin müsste Hasselbach zwei lange Vokale zwischen a und i annehmen. Hasselbach bringt zwar keine weiteren Argumente aus dem Akkadischen vor, aber immerhin fallen auf diese Weise alle wichtigen Gemeinsamkeiten, die das Reichsakkadische mit dem Assyrischen verbinden und vom Babylonischen trennen weg22. Die sonstigen Übereinstimmungen mit dem Assyrischen, wie der gelegentliche Gebrauch der Subjunktivendung -ni, lassen sich mit Hasselbach als Archaismen quali˜zieren, die im späteren Babylonischen einfach ausgefallen sein können. Dagegen verbinden die Formen der Imperative, sowie Inñitive und Verbaladjektive von D- und †-Stamm, purris, supris, purrus und suprus das Reichsakkadische mit dem babylonischen Dialekt23. D.h. das von Hasselbach vorgeschlagene Lautgesetz aj > e > ÿ würde die Trennung des Reichsakkadischen von beiden Dialekten unnötig machen und damit eine Ungereimtheit beseitigen. Nun gibt es für e im Babylonischen außer ay nur zwei Quellen: 1) a > e in Nachbarschaft zu den alten Pharyngalen h, çain und vielleicht von À und Längung. 2) Fernwirkung eines Pharyngals (oder von À) mittels der babylonischen Vokalharmonie. Dass die beiden Prozesse nicht in einem Schritt zur gleichen Vokalqualität führen, ist durchaus einsichtig. Die Verschmelzung von aj oder ai liefert am ehesten einen langen Vokal in der Mitte zwischen a und i, den wir e schreiben wollen und der vermutlich auch späterem e im Akkadischen entsprach. Pharyngale bedeuten per deñitionem eine Engebildung im Rachen, die auch mit der hinteren Zunge möglich ist. Diese Position der Zunge kommt einem der beiden Merkmale des Kardinalvokals a nahe, nämlich der zurückgezogenen Zunge, die damit hinten eine Enge bildet. Es fehlt das zweite

22. Vgl. die Zusammenstellung bei Sommerfeld (2003: 572–73). Der dort genannte Plural m. cas. obl. Reichsakkadisch und Assyrisch -e, babyl. -ÿ geht wohl ebenfalls auf -ai zurück. Vgl. Hasselbach S. 179–80 Anm. 100; Cross (2003: 355–56). Noch oênsichtlicher ist dies beim Stativ der Verbaladjektive der Verben II inf. Vgl. paris zu ken (assyr. Reichsakkad.), kÿn babyl. 23. Abschnitt 4. 5. 8 auf S. 210 und 4. 5. 10 mit Anm. 178 auf S. 211. Beim Imperativ des †-Stammes der Verben I-w ist im Reichsakkadischen nur s¿- belegt, nicht se- wie im Assyrischen normal. Bei den übrigen Formen ergibt sich jedoch ein anderes Bild. Im Süden wird mit -s¿- gebildet, in einem Text aus Kis wie im Altbabylonischen überwiegend mit -sa-, ansonsten von Kis an nach Norden, wie im Assyrischen mit -se-. Doch ist die Bildung des Vokals nach dem s des †-Stammes bei den Verben I-w im Akkadischen durchweg durch konkurrierende Formen und Unstetigkeiten geprägt. Z. B. gehört wabalum altbabyl. zur a-Klasse, mittelbabyl. zur e-Klasse. Vgl. Belege und Diskussion S. 224–26.

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Merkmal, die maximale Mundöˆnung. Dies führt zu einer Annäherung an die Stellung von ä24. Bei einer Verschmelzung eines Pharyngales mit a könnte also ä herauskommen, während ein Vokal mit mittlerer Mundöˆnung eine hintere Enge erschwert25 und außerdem weiter von der Mundöˆnung bei a entfernt ist26. Nehmen wir als Ergebnis dieser Prozesse zunächst ä bzw. langes ä (hier behelfsmäßig ä+ geschrieben) an und für aj > e ein mehr geschlossenes e, so können wir die weitere Entwicklung zum Babylonischen als parallele Erhöhung und Verschiebung nach Vorne der beiden langen Vokale beschreiben: ä+ > e, e > ÿ. Da ein kurzes e nicht auf aj zurückgehen kann, gab es nur ein kurzes ä und folglich nur ä > e, aber keinen e > ÿ parallelen Lautwandel e > i. Als Motor für die letzten Schritte kann man den Versuch sehen, bei den kurzen Vokalen gleiche Abstände zwischen a, e, i herzustellen. Die Bereinigung bei den langen Vokalen wäre dann dieser Entwicklung gefolgt. Man kann sich dies noch in zwei Schritte aufgeteilt denken. Zunächst e in der Mitte zwischen a und i, sowie ä+ nahe an a. Dann ein Ausgleich, der gleiche Abstände zwischen den vier Vokalen herstellt. Schließlich in Analogie zu den kurzen Vokalen die Bereinigung des Systems zu 3 Positionen. Dadurch würde das Ausweichen von älterem e vor e aus ä+ etwas plausibler. Die babylonische Vokalharmonie wäre dann zunächst eine Angleichung von a an ä gewesen, vermutlich unter dem Ein˘uss der Wurzelharmonie des Sumerischen. Im Assyrischen, wo es diese Angleichung nicht gab und ä+ folglich schwächer vertreten war, wäre dann ä+ einfach an e angeglichen worden und die Anhebung und Vorverlagerung von e aus aj zu ÿ ist unterblieben. Dass die angenommenen Zwischenstufen nur theoretisch erschlossen sind, aber nicht aus dem Gebrauch der Silbenzeichen abgeleitet wurden, ist kein gültiger Einwand, denn bei den Silbenzeichen war man auf das Sumerische angewiesen. Zwar wurden sumerische Lesungen im Akkadischen sicher nicht zu 100% so ausgesprochen wie im Sumerischen, sonst hätten sie das Akkadische wohl kaum darstellen können, aber die Veränderung hatte Grenzen. Wenn es im Sumerischen z.B. ä aber kein e gab, dann musste ein Silbenzeichen mit ä oder i zur Darstellung der Silbe mit e verwendet werden. Dass andere Vokale gut voneinander getrennt werden, ist ebenfalls kein Gegenargument, denn das Problem kann sehr wohl auf einen bestimmten Teil des Vokalsystems beschränkt gewesen sein. Ein Ausweg war die willkürliche Festsetzung eines Zeichens für einen bestimmten Lautwert, wie im Falle von be6 (PI) für wa, wi, wu. Doch dieser Weg wurde selten beschritten, wie man daran sehen kann, dass das Syllabar insgesamt weit davon entfernt ist, für jede Silbe eine eindeutige Schreibung zu erlauben. Ursprungsgebiet des Lautwandels a > e Rebecca Hasselbach hat die Personennamen nicht in ihre Untersuchung einbezogen, „because they often re˘ect an earlier stage of the language and are di¯cult to analyse because of the absence of su¯ciant grammatical context“ (S. 20–21). Dem kann man zwar ohne weiteres zustimmen, doch sollte das Resultat nicht der Ausschluss des in den Personennamen enthaltenen Materials, sondern seine getrennte Behandlung sein. Das zeigt sich bei der Geschichte des Lautwandels a > e (in herkömmlicher Schreibweise). Hasselbach schreibt: „(. . .) the change of /a/ and /i/ to /e/ in any environment was more advanced in the northern periphery,

24. Dazu ausführlich und mit Erörterung der akustischen Wirkung, Keetman (2004a). 25. Diese könnte, statt mit dem hinteren Teil der Zunge auch mit den Pharynxmuskeln erzeugt werden. Doch wir gehen von nicht absichtlich herbeigeführten Eêkten bei der Bildung der Vokale aus und betrachten deshalb nur die Bewegung der Zunge. 26. Die zentralisierende Wirkung der Pharyngale auf Vokale zeigt auch das Patach Furtivum im Hebräischen. Dass h dabei eingeschlossen ist, kann man so deuten, dass es leicht pharyngalisiert gesprochen wurde.


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that is in the Diyala region, than in northern and southern Babylonia. The sound change probably originated in the North and then gradually spread further South“ (S. 120). Das steht im oênen Widerspruch zu der Untersuchung von Piotr Steinkeller zu der Wurzel bçl „Herr“ in Personennamen der Fara-Zeit und präsargonischen Zeit, mit Belegen insbesondere aus Fara und Isin, also Südbabylonien (Steinkeller 2004: 12–14). Die Träger dieser Namen scheinen zum guten Teil längere Zeit in dem Gebiet ansässig gewesen zu sein. Bei der Wurzel smç „hören“ ergibt sich sogar, dass die älteren Namen aus Babylonien bereits e haben, während es in der sargonischen Zeit einen Rückgriˆ auf a in den nun verfügbaren Textbelegen gibt. In Lagas arbeitete unter Lugalanda und Irikagina ein in den Urkunden häu˜g genannter Brauer mit Namen ì-lí-be6(PI)-lí 27. Vgl. auch das Lehnwort be6-lu5-da < bel¿tum „Herrschaft“28. In einer Fara-Zeitlichen oder wenig jüngeren Kaufurkunde wird mehrfach ein „Bauer“ (engar) isme-ì-lum erwähnt29, der beim Verkauf dabeisitzt. Vermutlich ein Nachbar30, der mit seiner Anwesenheit bekräftigt, dass er keine Ansprüche erhebt. Jedenfalls jemand, der nicht auf der Durchreise ist. Im gleichen Text kommt der Name bé-li-li vor31. Der Träger ist Zeuge des Feldverkaufs und mithin mit Sicherheit ortsansässig. Dieser meist BE-lí-lí geschriebene Name steht fast sicher für bel-ilÿ oder belÿ-ilÿ „Mein Gott, ist der/mein Herr“32 Das Zeichen BI = bé ist sowohl im Sumerischen als auch im Reichsakkadischen das normale Zeichen für /be/ (Cf. Sommerfeld 2003: 572). Der Name begegnet auch in Fara selbst als Bé-li-li33 in einer Rationenliste(?), die Leute mit verschiedenen Berufsbezeichnungen wie „Schreiner“, „Baumeister“, „Schreiber“ auˆührt. Soweit erkennbar sind die übrigen Namen fast alle sumerisch und mehrere haben als theophores Element die Stadtgottheit von Fara/†uruppak ds ù d. Die Alternative, in Bé-li-li einen „banana name“ zu sehen (s.u.) ist unwahrscheinlich, weil „banana names“ in Fara sehr selten sind34. Aus Fara gibt es dann noch die Schreibung des Namens als be6-li-li (RTC 12 iii 2). In den syllabischen Texten der Akkad-Zeit gibt es hingegen in Südbabylonien nur einen Beleg für a > e in Gegenwart von Ø. Der Verfasser des betreênden Briefes ist ein Mann namens Me-zi35. Zugleich ist Me-zi auch der einzige Absender, der Briefe in Akkadisch und Sumerisch schreibt. Einen Brief fängt er mit akkadischer Einleitungsformel an, schreibt den eigentlichen Brief aber auf Sumerisch (Kienast und Volk 1995: 43). Es ist daher möglich, dass Mezi aus einer südlichen, mehr an

27. VS 25, 41 v 10; AWL 43 iii 8; 64 ii 4; Nik I 22 vii 2 passim. 28. Ukg. 4 vii 26 = 5 vii 9. Vgl. Selz 1998: 324 mit Anm. 195 und Literatur dort. 29. ELTS 15 i 24; ii 23; iii 21 passim. 30. Gelb, Steinkeller und Whiting (1991: 237–38) stellen fest, dass ENGAR hier für ENGAR.US steht und dass ihnen und dem „(˜eld) scribe“ bei Hausverkäufen der „master house surveyor“ und der „street herold“ gegenüberstehen. Daraus schließen sie, der ENGAR(.U†) müsse „a high administrative o¯cial in charge with agricultural activities“ sein. Andererseits ist die Bedeutung U† = ús „angrenzen, benachbart sein“ altsumerisch gut bezeugt (Behrens und Steible 1983: 361–62). Nehmen wir nun eine Parallele zwischen dem „master house surveyor“ (u m - m i - a l ú - é - é s - m a r) und dem „(˜eld)scribe“ (d u b - s a r - [g á n a]) an, so steht der „street herold“ (n i m i r - s i l a) dem e n g a r - (ú s) gegenüber. Während die ersten beiden Berufe mit Vermessung, bzw. Niederschrift zu tun haben, dient der n i m i r - s i l a wohl der Bekanntmachung der neuen Verhältnisse im Viertel. Auf dem Land gibt es weniger Nachbarn und es reicht vielleicht, wenn man sie einfach bittet, doch beim Kauf anwesend zu sein. 31. ELTS 15 xii 20; xiii 4. 32. Vgl. Di Vito (1993: 94), mit Hinweis u.a. auf sargonisch EN-ì-lí, be-lí-DINGIR und Ur III EN.DINGIR.MU. Als ältere Form zum präsargonisch in Lagas belegten ì-lí-be6-lí ist belÿ-ilÿ (bzw. ba‘lÿ-ilÿ) wegen der Veränderung der Wortstellung zu erwarten. Siehe Di Vito (1993: 289–90). Die einzige reale Möglichkeit für einen Irrtum wäre, dass uns ein „banana name“ einen Streich spielt. Zwar gibt es in ELTS 15 einen ähnlichen „banana name“ Ki-lí-lí, doch ñdet sich bé/be6-li-li auch in Fara, wo diese Namensbildung ziemlich unüblich ist. 33. NTS† 569 Rs.(?) iii 6u. 34. Der im gleichen Text Rs.(?) i 3u genannten Namen ha-li-li ist wegen ha-lí-lum, WF 22 ix, vermutlich als hal-ilÿ „Mein Gott ist ein Onkel (mütterlicherseits)“ zu deuten. Für ähnliche Namen vgl. AHw 314b oben. 35. Ad 3, 17–19: BE-lí É-wa-a-ti [l]i-ªis-meº „Mein Herr möge mein Wort hören!“ Das letzte Wort ist stark beschädigt, aber nach der Kopie hinreichend sicher.

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Zweisprachigkeit gewöhnten Gegend stammte, als seine nur in Akkadisch schreibenden Kollegen und auch sein Akkadisch mehr das Akkadische des Südens ist. Zugegeben, die Belege für den Vollzug des Lautwechsels a > e in Gegenwart von Ø in Namen von sicher ortsansässigen Personen aus Süd- und Mittelbabylonien vor dem Reich von Akkad sind spärlich. Die sargonischen Namen, die a > e dokumentieren, etwa aus Nippur und Umma, könnten mit den Sargoniden gekommen sein, auch wenn sie nicht deren Dialekt dokumentieren. Doch zwei Faktoren werten unsere Beispiele auf: Sie stammen aus einem eher konservativen sprachlichen Material und so weit der Autor sieht stehen ihnen keine Belege für den Erhalt von a in Gegenwart von Ø in präsargonischen Personennamen aus dem Süden gegenüber. Die Beobachtungen passen ferner zu Walter Sommerfelds „vorläu˜gem Ergebnis“, dass das geschriebene Akkadisch der Akkad-Zeit, „konsequent als o¯zielle Sprache eingeführt wurde“36. Man kann sie vielleicht insofern abwandeln, dass das Akkadisch, welches wir in Babylonien, vor allem im Süden ñden, das Akkadisch einer mit den Sargoniden gekommenen, eventuell nur dünnen Schicht ist und dass dieses Akkadisch dem ebenfalls mehr archaischen Akkadisch der Königsinschriften nahe stand (vgl. S. 231). Auch Rebecca Hasselbach erwägt die Trennung der akkadischen Texte aus dem Süden von einem einheimischen Akkadisch, bleibt aber bei der Feststellung, die Diyala-Region sei „the linguistic most innovative area in the Sargonic period“. Ein wesentliches Kriterium hierfür ist a > e und der Wegfall der Pharyngale und von À. Nach dem gesagten ist die Lokalisierung des Beginns von a > e aber völlig oên. Vielleicht wegen ihrer Feststellungen über den innovativen Charakter des Akkadischen der DiyalaRegion erwägt es Hasselbach nicht, in Schreibungen des Verbalprä˜xes der 3. Person mit ú- im D- und †-Stamm und ù- im G-Stamm I-W anstelle von U = ju (siehe Belege S. 88) den Beginn des Abfalls des j zu sehen, der bereits während der Ur III-Zeit vollzogen erscheint (Hilgert 2002: 120–21). Nur zwei der fünf Texte37 mit dieser Schreibung lassen sich lokalisieren. Einer kommt aus Umm el»ÿr (BIN 8, 144), der andere ist die Beschwörung MAD 5 8 aus Kis, die aber möglicherweise auf einen anderen Dialekt zurückgeht (s.u.). Nur einer dieser Texte mischt Schreibungen mit u- und ú-, bedarf aber vielleicht der Kollation38. Bei ji- kann ein Abfall des j nur indirekt beobachtet werden, indem das Zeichen I nun auch für /i/ gebraucht wird. Dies muss nicht sofort geschehen und außerdem sind auch ú-/ù- statt U nur in wenigen Texten belegt. Ein Vokalzeichen für /i/ wird in der reichsakkadischen Orthographie auch selten gebraucht. Deshalb lässt sich aus der Verteilung I = /ji/, Ì = /i/ kein Gegenargument gegen den Beginn der sprachgeschichtlich zu erwartende Ablösung von j ableiten. BE und belum In Ebla ist BE oênsichtlich ein Akkadogramm für belum „Herr“ (Steinkeller 1981). Würde man in Mesopotamien durchweg BE als /be/ lesen, so wäre der Lautwandel a > e in Personennamen mit dem Wort belum nur in seiner Endstufe dokumentiert, während für samaçum „hören“ Schreibungen 36. Sommerfeld (2003: 585); ähnlich Westenholz (1999: 33). Allerdings spielt bei beiden Autoren auch noch der Übergang aj > e statt ÿ wie im Altbabylonischen eine Rolle bei der Trennung des Reichsakkadischen vom lokalen Akkadisch Babyloniens. 37. MAD 4 10 (4: ú-su-ri-dam) und MAD 4 11, der einzige Text mit ù- für 3. Person I-w haben aufeinander folgende Museumsnummern und stammen daher wahrscheinlich von der gleichen Stelle. Zu den anderen Texten gleich. 38. Frag 3 i 4u–6u u-sa-za-za-su4 GE†TUG ú*-wa-ti-[r]a-sum „ . . . lässt er ihn hintreten. Den Verstand hat er ihm überragend gemacht“. In Kolumne ii ist am Anfang einer stark beschädigten Zeile noch ein u- zu erkennen. Das Objekt ist eine weiße Marmorvase „Presumably neighborhood of Babylon“. Es gibt nur die Kopie von Hilprecht, BE 1/1 pl. 7 No. 12 (1893) wonach das ú beschädigt ist. Cf. Gelb und Kienast (1990: 124).


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mit má und me dokumentiert sind. Doch aus diesem Dilemma gibt es nach mehreren Richtungen Auswege. Steinkeller, der selbst BE = belum für Ebla reklamiert hatte, zeigt auf, dass es seit der FaraZeit Schreibungen von belum mit be6 (PI) gibt und der Lautwechsel also schon vollzogen sei (s.o.). Krebernik tritt hingegen für BE = bax ein (Krebernik 1984b: 165; 1985: 53; 1991: 136). Da das sargonische Material sonst beide Enden des Lautwechsels zeigt, haben beide Interpretationen Schwierigkeiten. Deshalb und weil be (und ebenso bax) eine singuläre Schreibung wäre, kehrt Hasselbach wieder zu der Interpretation als Logogramm zurück (S. 39). Unabhängig von der Lesung lässt sich aber zeigen, dass BE in sargonischen und präsargonischen Texten aus Mesopotamien schwerlich ein Logogramm sein kann. In den Originalinschriften der akkadischen Könige kommt BE im Manistusu-Obelisk achtmal als BE-lu GÁNA „die Herren des Feldes“ und einmal als †E† BE-lu GÁNA „Die Brüder, die Herren des Feldes“ vor39. Zwei weitere Belege für BE-lu „Herren“ kommen aus Kish40. Ein Fall, dass BE alleine oder BE.BE den Plural bezeichnet, ist mir nicht bekannt. Ins Auge springt, dass im Manistusu-Obelisk „Herren des Feldes“ durchgängig BE-lu GÁNA, „Zeugen des Feld(verkaufs)“ aber AB + Á†.AB + Á† GÁNA geschrieben wird41. Dass ein Logogramm mit phonetischem Kompliment geschrieben wird, ist in den akkadischen Inschriften äußerst selten. In den Personennamen kommt BE ebenfalls fast nur mit ausgeschriebener Endsilbe, meist BE-lí, vor und zwar sehr häu˜g42. Ignorieren muss man bei der These, BE sei Logogramm, die altbabylonischen Abschriften von Inschriften des Rÿmus, die i-be-al „er beherrscht“ schreiben (Kienast 1994: 191b). Natürlich kann be hier eine altbabylonische Neuerung sein, beachte jedoch, dass sich diese Schreibung in mehreren Abschriften ñdet und dass das folgende al nicht aus dem Altbabylonischen zu begründen ist. Der seit der Fara-Zeit gelegentlich belegte Wechsel von Schreibungen mit BE mit solchen mit be6 (PI) führt ebenfalls zu einer singulären Verwendung eines Lautwertes und stellt damit eines von Hasselbachs Argumenten weiter in Frage. Schließlich kann man noch die lange Reihe der „banana names“ vergleichen: Be-lu-lu, Ì-la-la, Ì-lulu, I-le-le, I-lu-lu, I-lu5-lu5, A-la-la, A-le-le, A-lí-lí, Al-lú-lú, E-le-le, E-lí-lí, E-lu-lu, É-le-le, É-lí-lí, È-lí-lí, Tu-le-le43. Wie auch immer diese Namen zu interpretieren sind, jedenfalls sind sie oênsichtlich syllabisch geschrieben und damit wäre auch BE als Silbenzeichen zu interpretieren. Unklar ist ob Ì-lí-lí und Be-lí-lí/Be6-lí-lí zu dieser Gruppe gehören, denn sie erlauben eine Interpretation als „il-ilÿ“ „mein Gott, ist Gott“ oder entsprechend mit belum „Herr“ s.o. Doch für Be-lu-lu44 könnte man höchstens Tillu-lu als Alternative lesen, doch dies ist u.a. schon deshalb unwahrscheinlich, weil diese Namen ganz selten mit einem KVK-Zeichen beginnen45. Eine sumerische Beschwörung aus Ebla hat in beiden Textzeugen die Zeile miss i n i g ú r - b e de n - k i d n i n - k i „Die Tamariske, ihre Wurzeln (sind die) Enki(-) und Ninki(-Gottheiten)“46. Hier steht BE für

39. ELTS 40 A iv 5; A2 viii 2; A3 ix 5; B viii 9; C1 vii 16; C2 xii 4; C3 xiii 8; D iv 7; †E† be-lu GÁN D vi 2. 40. MAD 5, 3, 3; 102, 14. 41. ELTS 40 A3 xvi 17. Ebenso einfach „Zeugen“ C3 xviii 12; xxiii 16. 42. Vgl. die Zusammenstellung bei di Vito (1993: 130–59). 43. Nach Sommerfeld (1999: 26), ergänzt um Al-lú-lú, I-lu5-lu5, Tu-le-le doch ohne Anspruch auf Vollständigkeit. Auâllend ist die Häufung von Namen mit lV-lV, aber auch andere Konsonanten sind bezeugt, z.B. A-da-da, A-hu-hu, A-ka-ka, E-mu-mu, En-nana, La-ba-ba, Mu-tu-tu, Da-bí-bí usw. Zu den meisten dieser Namen existiert übrigens auch ein Name, der so aussieht, als sei er um die erste Silbe gekürzt. Z.B. Lu-lu, Li-li, Da-da, Tu-tu, Ba-ba, etc. 44. Tutub 1 iii 10; iv 3. 45. Die Zeichen für BE, die Sommerfeld für Tutub kopiert hat, zeigen tatsächlich die Charakteristik von BE nicht TIL, allerdings nicht immer sauber, wobei man bei unserem Namen allerdings auf Sommerfelds Umschrift angewiesen ist. Für einen ähnlichen Namen vgl. Ba-lu-lu, ELTS 41 iii 9 („Sippar Stone“, Akkad-Zeit). 46. TM 75 G 1519 i 3 = TM 75 G 1621 i 4 – ii 1. Siehe Krebernick (1984a: 102–3).

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das meist -bé geschriebene Possessivsu¯x der Sachklasse. Eine Lesung /be/ oder so ähnlich muss also bereits existiert haben47. Mithin ist eine Lesung von BE als Logogramm sargonisch und präsargonisch recht unwahrscheinlich. Man könnte aber annehmen, dass wie má in is-má für /maç/ BE in BE-lí ursprünglich für /baç/ stand. Anders als má wurde BE aber nach Ausfall des çain und a > e nicht durch ein anderes Zeichen ersetzt, sondern machte die Veränderung mit und nahm den Lautwert /be/ an. Das entspräche dem Wechsel I = /ji/ zu I = /i/. Mit dieser Vermutung werden die altbabyl. Kopien zu getreuen Abschriften der bestmöglichen Schreibung von /jibaççal/ als ji-baç-al und /baçal/ als baç-al (Na C3: 56) wozu auch der unter Manistusu in Assur belegte Göttername Baç-al-SI.SI zu stellen ist (Man B 1, 7). Darstellung von À Unsicher ist das Verbum saåarum „besiegen“. Weil die Schreibweise nicht mit der normalen Schreibung von Wurzeln mit *À übereinstimme, zieht Hasselbach einen Vergleich mit arab. sår „(Blut-)Rache nehmen“, von Sodens Vorschlag arab. sÀr „durchbrechen“ vor. Diese normale Schreibung ist aber nicht besser belegt. Weil der Übergang a > e noch nicht stattgefunden hat, schließt Hasselbach, dass in den Formen sa-ah-ra, sa-ha-ar-tim von sÀr „klein“ À gemeint ist, obwohl die Wurzel auch später mit { -Zeichen geschrieben wird, die dann sicher nicht mehr für À stehen. Es gibt jedoch auch jüngere Formen, in denen a erhalten ist, vor allem im Assyrischen. Zu Gunsten von Hasselbachs Argument könnte man vorbringen, dass ausgerechnet der nächste Nachfolger des Reichsakkadischen, das Altbabylonische fast nur in einigen festen Ableitungen a statt e bei dieser Wurzel hat48. Trotzdem steht das Argument wegen der jüngeren Formen mit a auf schwachen Füßen. Ein zweiter Einwand ist, dass babylonisch (!) auch r den Lautwandel a > e auslösen kann (GAG 3 § 9b), womit *saÀarum > saharum > seherum möglich erscheint. Die in dieser Hinsicht vergleichbaren Worte ersetum „Erde“49 und seberum „zerbrechen“50 haben im Reichsakkadischen ebenfalls noch a. Der einzige weitere Beleg für die Vertretung von *À durch { ist ru-úh-ti „Speichel, Geifer“. Im gleichen Text (MAD 5 8) steht ba-ki sa ru-ga-tim wofür „drooling mouth“ vorgeschlagen wurde51. Die selbe arab. Wurzel rÀw „schäumen“ steckt nach AHw auch hinter ru-úh-ti. Der Gebrauch von GA für etymologisches À ist in Ebla wenigstens einmal bezeugt52. Ein weiterer Eblaismus ist möglich, wenn nämlich ti-ib-da-ad-ga eine Verbalform darstellt53, so bezeugt sie das Prä˜x ti-, welches in Ebla neben ta- vorkommt54.

47. Zumindest im südlichen Altsumerisch steht bé für /b‰/ womit ein „e“ in der Nähe von a gemeint ist. Siehe Keetman (2005: 10). 48. Vgl. die Worte suhar(t)um, „ Junge/ Mädchen“ und sahharum, die auch altbabylonisch so lauten. 49. MAD 3 66 in Namen. 50. OSP 1 7 i 5u Nippur. 51. Kogan (2001: 276). Gelb (1970: 9) interpretiert paki sa rûqatim, „thy mouth far-away“, was mehr romantisch als überzeugend klingt. 52. VE 295 [ú-n]ág-gamusen = ga-rí-bù, „Rabe“, (Text K) neben a-rí-bù-(um) (Text A, O). 53. MAD 5 8, 11. Vgl. S. 191 mit verschiedenen Meinungen zu dieser Zeile. 54. Huehnergard und Woods (2004: 253). Vgl. auch Hasselbach S. 192. Eine weitere Besonderheit ist der durchgängige Gebrauch von sonst nur (?) in Eigennamen gelegentlich gebrauchtem ur4 statt ur (S. 68). Dabei handelt es sich allerdings nicht um einen Eblaismus. Vgl. bù-ur-tum VE 0305; ur-pù-um VE 1263u. Ungewöhnlich ist ebenfalls me für /mi/ in da-me-iq Z. 7, u-me-is-sa Z. 20. Wenn ich den Text richtig verstehe wird auch dreimal ein auslautendes m nicht geschrieben: t u - u r4 - d a Z. 8 (wrd/t*rd ?); ti-ib-da-ad-ga Z. 11 (btq/ptq ?); u-me-is-sa Z. 20 (wohl j¿misam, „täglich“). Eine lexikalische Besonderheit ist sawarum, „Hals“ (MAD 5 8, 35–36). Abgesehen von MAD 5 8 kommt nicht nur das Wort, sondern auch die Wurzel im Akkadischen nicht vor. Siehe AHw 1087a.


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Die regen Verbindungen zwischen Ebla und Kis in der Zeit kurz vor dem Reich von Akkad sind bekannt und auch der Austausch von Beschwörungen zwischen Fara und Ebla, also noch etwas weiter als Kis. Unser Text könnte also gut eine sargonische Ab- oder Niederschrift einer Beschwörung aus Ebla sein55. Die Orthographie ist aber überwiegend doch sargonisch und unsere Anhaltspunkte sind zu dünn, um eine Verbindung zu Ebla zu beweisen. Wie dem auch sei, Beschwörungen weichen sehr oft von der Sprache des Fundortes ab56. Deshalb sollten weder ru-ùh-ti noch ru-ga-tim als Beispiele für die Schreibung von À im Reichsakkadischen verwandt werden. Etymologisches À hat recht unterschiedliche Spuren im späteren Akkadisch hinterlassen. Es ist zu vermuten, dass À teilweise zu ‘ain wurde und in diesen Fällen a > e auslöste, denn dieser Wechsel wird von Pharyngalen ausgelöst. Belegt ist dies allerdings nur spärlich57. Die Existenz von s Späteres babylonisches s ist aus drei Konsonanten entstanden. Einer ist arab. Ï von Hasselbach durch *q und in Umschriften auch einfach als q wiedergegeben. Ein weiterer ist ¶ und ziemlich sicher ursprünglich ein Lateralfrikativ (Steiner 1977). Der dritte wurde früher als s aufgefasst, wird heute allerdings von den meisten Autoren als noch im Reichsakkadischen vorhandenes ursprüngliches s angesehen. Gelb bezeichnete diesen Laut als s1, ¶ als s2 und *q als s3. Wir wollen diese Bezeichnung beibehalten, weil sie es erlaubt, die Phoneme nach etymologischer Herkunft zu trennen ohne gleich die noch zu diskutierende Aussprache festzulegen. Unstrittig ist weitgehend, dass zwischen s1 und s2 im Reichsakkadischen nicht unterschieden werden kann und dass ein von Gelb angenommenes 4. Phonem s4 („z“) nicht existiert58. Geschrieben wird s1–2 überwiegend mit S-Zeichen, s3 mit †-Zeichen. Die Bezeichnung dieser Zeichen folgt ihrer altbabylonischen Verwendung, wo S-Zeichen etymologisches Samekh bezeichnen, sofern dieses bereits aus ts zu s geworden ist, während die †-Zeichen für s1–3 stehen. Die Verschmelzung von s3 mit s1–2 setzt schon im Reichsakkadischen ein. Eine gleichzeitige Veränderung q > s und s > s, wobei s erst durch diesen Prozess entstehen würde, erscheint aber nicht allzu wahrscheinlich. Wer mit Hasselbach also an s1–2 = s festhält, sollte annehmen, dass q > s früher stattgefunden hat und dass der Zusammenfall Ausdruck von s > s ist. Dies suggeriert auch die Schrift, die S-Zeichen werden mit Verzögerung auf Samekh übertragen, die †-Zeichen bleiben bei s3 und übernehmen noch s1–2. Sieht man sich den Übergang jedoch in seinen Einzelheiten an, so ñdet man nicht nur †-Zeichen nun auch für s1–2, sondern auch S-Zeichen für s359. Daraus kann nur der Schluss gezogen werden, dass S-Zeichen auch für s gebraucht wurden. Damit ist aber auch der Gebrauch von S-Zeichen für s1–2 kein 55. Als Vergleich für die unsichere Stelle ba-ki ru-ga-tim, MAD 5 8, 12 bieten sich dann aus Ebla KA.LI rí-ga-tum (VE 188), KA.DÚB rí-ha-tum, a-hi-núm (VE 189) an. Geht man davon aus, dass auch rehû, „begatten; sich ergießen“ und ruhû, „Bezauberung“ mit arab. rÀw „schäumen“, zusammenhängen, so schließt sich ein Kreis, denn ruhû hat u.a. die Gleichung us7(KAxLI)ri-a vielleicht wie „geifern“ zu deuten, womit natürlich Verwünschung und Beschwörung zusammenhängen (KAxLI = tu6 etc.). In Unserer Beschwörung hat r¿htum oder r¿Àtum wahrscheinlich die Bedeutung ruhû „Zauber“ und ruÀatum die mehr wörtliche Bedeutung „geifern“. 56. Van Dijk konnte bei einer Gruppe altbabylonischer Beschwörungen aus der Gegend von Larsa, die Sprachen Akkadisch, Sumerisch, Hurritisch und Elamitisch nachweisen. Vierzehn weitere Texte waren in unbekannten Sprachen geschrieben. Siehe Dijk, Goetze, Hussey (1985: 4–5). 57. Siehe vor allem Kogan (2001), mit Ergänzungen UF 34 (2002) 315–18. Vgl. auch Keetman (2004a: 7 Anm. 7). 58. GAG 3 § 30a*, Sommerfeld (2003: 575). 59. Zahlreiche Beispiele S. 139 u. 142.

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Beweis für eine Aussprache /s/ anstatt /s/. Der andere Grund, der zu der heute weitgehend üblichen Annahme /s/ statt /s/ geführt hat, nämlich das Lautgesetz s1–3 + † (Su¯x) > ss könnte eine Analogiebildung zu t, d, t, ts, dz, ts + s > ss (bzw. ts, auch bei s + s gelegentlich so, d. h. mit Z-Zeichen geschrieben!) sein. Die bisherige Theorie ist an diesem Punkt nicht besser, denn auch sie bräuchte eigentlich eine Erklärung dafür, warum das angenommene Lautgesetz /s/ > /s/ an dieser Stelle nicht vollzogen wurde. Dabei ist nicht zu entscheiden ob diese Veränderung schon reichsakkadisch eingetreten ist, da SZeichen nach unserer Auâssung sowohl s als auch s vertreten konnten. Der Autor bleibt deshalb bei seiner Vermutung, s1–2 = /s/ geschrieben mit sumerischen S-Zeichen, weil es im Sumerischen kein s, sondern nur s gab (Keetman 2004: 374b). Sumerische Wörter wie ursam „Held“ müssen dann notwendig bei Übernahme ins ältere Akkadische s > s ergeben, also ursanum, weil es ein s im Akkadischen noch nicht gab oder höchstens als Allophon in einer festen Umgebung. Über die Aussprache von s3 und sumerischem † braucht man bei diesem Ansatz zunächst keine Aussage zu machen, außer dass s3 und † untereinander ähnlich, aber beide von s verschieden waren. Die spätere Einteilung der Zeichen beruht auf einer vom Akkadischen beein˘ussten Veränderung von † im Sumerischen zu /s/ und der Aufgabe von s3 als letztem Phonem seiner Triade. Es sind diese beiden Phänomene, die wir in der Schrift beobachten, wenn †-Zeichen für s1–2 und S-Zeichen vorübergehend auch für s3 gebraucht werden. Allgemeine Bemerkungen zur Silbenschrift und ihrer Entwicklung 1) Herkunft der Lautwerte: Aus den akkadischen Lesungen von Logogrammen sind nach Hasselbach „pù from Akkadian pûm and el from Akkadian ellum, id from idum, and iz from isum“ gewonnen. Drei dieser Ableitungen kann man hinterfragen. Akkadisch pûm „Mund“ entspricht sumerisch KA, nicht KAx†U bzw. KAxKÁR = bù/pù. Der Lautwert begegnet spätestens ab Ur III auch in sumerischen Texten zur Schreibung der meist bu(-r) geschriebenen Verbalwurzel mit der Bedeutung „ausreißen“60. Für el geben weder Hasselbach noch Gelb einen eindeutigen Beleg61. Wegen i-zi, iz-zi = igaru (CAD I/J 34–35) ist es möglich, dass iz ebenfalls ein sumerischer Lautwert ist und nur zufällig an mis = isum „Baum“ erinnert. Aber selbst wenn wir vier akkadische Lautwerte zugestehen, ist das noch immer sehr wenig. Außerdem erscheinen sie ohne jede Systematik eingeführt zu sein, jedenfalls beheben sie nirgend die gravierenden Mängel bei der Darstellung der semitischen Phoneme. 2) KV-, VK- und KVK-Zeichen sind indiêrent gegenüber der Unterscheidung stimmhaft/stimmlos/ „emphatisch“. Bereits Krecher war der Gegensatz KU = /ku/, GU = /qu/ in den Originalinschriften der Sargoniden aufgefallen, wo er durch das Nebeneinander beider Schreibungen in den Fluchformeln besonders ins Auge springt (S. 61; Krecher 1969: 161 Anm. 7). Der exklusive Gebrauch von GU für /qu/ ist aber auf diese Texte beschränkt, auch die altbabylonischen Abschriften von Inschriften akkadischer Herrscher weichen ab, obwohl GU für /ku/ gegen die altbabylonische Orthographie verstößt. Möglich, dass diese Besonderheit mit der Gleichung gu = qûm „Hanf; Faden, Schnur“ zusammenhängt. Jedenfalls stellt ein eigenes Zeichen für einen „emphatischen“ Konsonanten, so weit wir den Gebrauch der Zeichen beurteilen können, einen Sonderfall dar62.

60. PSD B 162. 61. S. 35 Anm. 25 bemerkt Hasselbach, Sommerfeld würde in seiner unpublizierten Habilitationsschrift die Schreibung el-lum in MAD 1 303, 1 wegen der Möglichkeit SIKILlum anzweifeln. Dies sei „one of the very few Sargonic attestations for the value /el/ “. Der Leser weiß aber nicht, ob andere Belege den Lautwert absichern. Da schon Gelb kein eindeutiges Beispiel für die Akkad-Zeit nennt, bleibt die Lesung el recht zweifelhaft. 62. Vgl. sìla = qû, ein Hohlmaß und Gefäß und SÌLA = /qa/.

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3) Abgesehen von denjenigen Konsonanten, für die ohnehin nur ein ungenügendes Zeichenrepertoire vorhanden ist, trennen die KV- und VK-Zeichen die Phoneme im Reichsakkadischen gleich gut. Es gibt aber eine bemerkenswerte Ausnahme, die schon Gelb aufgefallen war, aber bisher kaum zu weiteren Nachforschungen geführt hat. Es gibt keine Möglichkeit s1–2 nach /a/ und /u/ von s3 zu trennen (siehe Übersicht S. 35). Nach /i/ wird s3 durch I†11 (LAMxKUR) und È† geschrieben, die nicht für s1–2 verwandt werden. Das Zeichen für /i/ + s1–2 ist I†. D. h. das einzige Zeichen, das s1–2 in der VK-Reihe von s3 trennt, wird später nicht wie die KV-Zeichen für s1–2 für Samekh, sondern für s verwendet. I† wird in einigen wenigen Fällen auch für s3 gebraucht, was Hasselbach mit der generellen Vermischung der Zeichenreihen erklärt (S. 72). 4) Wenn man die späteren Möglichkeiten bedenkt und zugleich den Umstand, dass wir aus späteren Listen und aus Lehnworten kaum Hinweise auf j im Sumerischen haben, überrascht die relativ gute Darstellung des Gleitlautes /j/. Es wird /ji/ durch I, /ju/ durch U dargestellt. /je/ gelegentlich auch /ji/ wird durch È dargestellt. Nur für /ja/ scheint es keine sumerische Vorgabe zu geben, denn man behilft sich mit ì + a (wie später mit i + a) wobei Ì für /i/ steht. Außerdem gibt es sogar jVK-Silbenzeichen, nämlich ÍL = /jil/63, vielleicht IM4(= DU) = /jim/64, ÌR = /jer/65. Dass KVK-Zeichen zur Darstellung von j willkürlich festgelegt wurden, ist nicht wahrscheinlich. Dies könnte dazu führen, j im Sumerischen am Wortanfang anzunehmen, trotz der Gegenargumente, die aber fast durchweg auf jüngerem Material beruhen. In diesem Review Article wurde viel Kritik an Rebecca Hasselbachs Arbeit geäußert. Wichtige Argumente werden übergangen oder nicht richtig dargestellt, Belege unzureichend zitiert und teilweise Neuerungen reklamiert, die schon längst gängig sind66. Der selektive und höchst ungenaue Rückgriˆ auf das Material der Personennamen führt zu falschen Einschätzungen. Die Orthographie der Personennamen hätte vollständig erfasst und mit der Orthographie der Texte systematisch verglichen werden müssen. Andererseits wurde der methodische Ansatz, das Material der Texte nach Textgattungen und Regionen getrennt zu behandeln, von Hasselbach erstmals konsequent durchgeführt und hat sich als fruchtbar erwiesen. Trotz seiner Kritik möchte der Autor betonen, dass die Arbeit von Rebecca Hasselbach auch eine Reihe wesentlicher Fortschritte bringt. Dazu gehören insbesondere ihre Überlegungen zur Dialektgliederung und viele Diskussionen zu speziellen Fragen. Wegen der genannten Probleme sollte das Buch aber mit Vorsicht zur Hand genommen werden. Referenzen Behrens, H., und Steible, H. 1983 Glossar zu den altsumerischen Bau- und Weihinschriften. FAOS 6. Wiesbaden: Steiner. Buccellati, G. 1996 A Structural Grammar of Babylonian. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz. 63. S. 63–64. Nicht erwähnt wird das Gegenbeispiel li-íl-qù-tá! Frag C 7 Rs. iii 3u. Der Text hat aber noch mehr ungewöhnliche Schreibungen, insbesondere i-be-el Vs. ii 12 und ma-ta-a-am Vs. ii 6. TA für /ta/ kommt erst Ur III zögerlich auf, die Pleneschreibung und wenn wirklich matum, „Land“ gemeint ist, auch noch an der falschen Stelle, ist ebenfalls ungewöhnlich. 64. S. 66, Hasselbach zu Recht skeptisch. Beachte dass MAD 4 10 im Text zweimal im-hur schreibt, den Namen Jimtalik jedoch im4-da-lik. Der Text fällt auch dadurch auf, dass er ú-su-ri-dam /us¿ridam/, „er brachte herab“, schreibt, statt zu erwartendem u-su-ri-dam /jus¿ridam/. Also doch ein Unterschied DU = /jim/, IM = /im/, älter auch /jim/? 65. S. 67–68 und Westenholz (1978: 162). 66. Z.B. schreibt Hasselbach nach einer Auseinandersetzung mit Gelbs Ablehnung von I = /ji/ ohne irgendjemand anderen zu erwähnen: „In this study, it will therefore be assumed that the sign I always stood for /yi/ in Sargonic Akkadian“ (S. 87). Vgl. jedoch GAG 3 (1995) §§ 22c*; 75e*; Sommerfeld (1999: 18 Anm. 27; 20 Anm. 29); Hilgert (2002: 120) u.a.

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Cross, F. M. 2003 Some Problems in Old Hebrew Orthography with Special Attention to the Third Person Masculine Singular Su¯x on Plural Nouns [-âw]. S. 351–56 in Leaves from an Epigrapher’s Notebook, Hrsg. F. M. Cross. Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns. Dijk, J. van; Goetze, A.; und Hussey, M. I. 1985 Early Mesopotamian Incantations and Rituals. YOS 11. New Haven: Yale University Press. GAG 3 1995 W. von Soden, Grundriss der Akkadischen Grammatik. 3. Au˘. AnOr 33. Rome: Ponti˜cium Institutum Biblicum. Gelb, I. J. 1961 Old Akkadian Writing and Grammar. 2. Au˘. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Gelb, I. J.; Steinkeller, P.; und Whiting, R. 1989 Earliest Land Tenure Systems in the Near East: Ancient Kudurrus. OIP 104. Chicago: The Oriental Institute of the University of Chicago. Hasselbach, R. 2005 Sargonic Akkadian: A Historical and Comparative Study of the Syllabic Texts. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz. Hilgert, M. 2002 Akkadisch in der Ur III-Zeit. IMGULA 5. Münster: Rhema. Huehnergard, J., und Woods, C. 2004 Akkadian and Eblaite. S. 218–87 in The Cambridge Encyclopedia of the World’s Ancient Languages, Hrsg. R. D. Woodard. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Keetman, J. 2004a Der Verlust der „Kehllaute“ im Akkadischen und der Lautwandel a > e. AoF 31: 5–14. 2004b Verschlusslaute, Aˆrikaten und Frikative im Sumerischen. ArOr 72: 367–83. 2005 Die altsumerische Vokalharmonie und die Vokale des Sumerischen. JCS 57: 1–16. Kienast, B. 1994 Glossar zu den altakkadischen Königsinschriften. FAOS 8. Stuttgart: Franz Steiner. Kienast, B., und K. Volk 1995 Die sumerischen und akkadischen Briefe. FAOS 19. Stuttgart: Franz Steiner. Kogan, L. 2001 À in Akkadian. UF 33: 263–97. (Erg. in UF 34). Krebernik, M. 1984a Die Beschwörungen aus Fara und Ebla. Hildesheim: Olms. 1984b Zur Lesung einiger frühdynastischer Inschriften aus Mari. ZA 74: 164–67. 1985 Zur Entwicklung der Keilschrift im III. Jahrtausend anhand der Texte aus Ebla: Ein Vergleich zwischen altakkadischem und eblaitischem Schriftsystem. AfO 32: 53–59. 1991 Rezension zu Gelb und Kienast, Die altakkadischen Königsinschriften. ZA 81: 133–43. 1998 Die Texte aus Fara und Tell Ab¿ Salabÿh. S. 237–430 in Mesopotamien: Späturuk-Zeit und frühdynastische Zeit, Hrsg. J. Bauer, R. Englund, und M. Krebernik. OBO 160/1. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht. Krecher, J. 1969 Verschlusslaute und Betonung im Sumerischen. S. 157–98 in lisan mithurti: Fs. Wolfram Freiherr von Soden, Hrsg. W. Röllig. AOAT 1. Neukirchen-Vluyn: Butzon & Bercker Kevelaer und Neukirchener Verlag des Erziehungsvereins Neukirchen Vluyn. Selz, G. 1998 Über mesopotamische Herrschaftskonzepte: Zu den Ursprüngen mesopotamischer Herrscherideologie im 3. Jahrtausend. S. 281–344 in dubsar anta-men. Studien zur Altorientalistik. Fs. Willem H. Ph. Römer, Hrsg. M. Dietrich und O. Loretz. AOAT 253. Münster: Ugarit Verlag. Sommerfeld, W. 2003 Bemerkungen zur Dialektgliedrung, Altakkadisch, Assyrisch und Babylonisch. S. 569–86 in Festschrift für B. Kienast, Hrsg. G. Selz. AOAT 274. Münster: Ugarit Verlag. Steiner, C. 1977 The Case for Fricative Laterals in Proto-Semitic. AOS 59. New Haven: American Oriental Society.


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Steinkeller, P. 1981 Studies in Third Millennium Palaeography, 1: The Signs TIL and BAD. ZA 71: 18–28. 2004 On the Writing of belum in Sargonic and Earlier Sources. NABU 2004/1: 12–14. Tutub 1999 W. Sommerfeld, Die Texte der Akkade-Zeit. I. Das Diyala-Gebiet: Tutub. Münster: Rhema. Ungnad, A., und Matous, L. 1969 Grammatik des Akkadischen. 5. Au˘. München: Beck. VE – Nummern des „Vocabolario di Ebla“ 1982 G. Pettinato, Testi lessicali bilingui della biblioteca L. 2769. Parte I: Traslitterazione dei testi e ricostruzione del VE. MEE 4. Napoli: Istituto Universitario Orientale di Napoli. Vito, R. di. 1993 Studies in Third Millennium Sumerian and Akkadian Personal Names: The Designation and Conception of the Personal God. Studia Pohl SM 16. Rome: Ponti˜cium Institutum Biblicum. Westenholz, A. 1974 Old Akkadian School Texts. AfO 25: 95–110. 1999 The Old Akkadian Period: History and Culture. S. 17–117 in Mesopotamien: Akkade und Ur III-Zeit, Hrsg. W. Sallaberger und A. Westenholz. OBO 160/3. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht.

CRITICAL REVIEWS Nicole Maria Brisch, Tradition and the Poetics of Innovation: Sumerian Court Literature of the Larsa Dynasty (c. 2003–1763 BCE). Alter Orient und Altes Testament 339. Münster: Ugarit-Verlag, 2007. Pp. xii + 303. Reviewed by Gonzalo Rubio, Pennsylvania State University. This intellectually engaging book consists of a study of the Sumerian literary corpus concerning the dynasty of Old Babylonian Larsa and an edition of most of its compositions. The ˜rst part of the volume includes four chapters, which dwell on various literary and philological aspects of this corpus. In the second part, fourteen literary compositions are edited. When more than one manuscript is preserved, both a composite text and a matrix-based score are provided. The book ends with various indexes and a set of plates that includes generally ñe photographs of some of the texts and some excellent copies of others. The Introduction sketches the main goals and framework of the book. The uniqueness of this corpus is stated upfront: the transmitted Larsa corpus is small in comparison to other Old Babylonian corpora; most compositions are attested in a single manuscript; and, more importantly, their language and ornate style depart substantially from what is considered the mainstream Sumerian literary tradition. Moreover, the author addresses the question of whether royal inscriptions can be classi˜ed as literary or not. Her contention is that Larsa royal inscriptions are literary compositions, although they do not lie at the core of the Larsa literary corpus, which comprises hymns and literary letters. This would seem at odds with the modern curricular approach to Sumerian literature, which seeks to reconstruct what Mesopotamian scribes may have regarded as literary in the light of their scholastic canon (e.g., Veldhuis 2004: 45–47). Nevertheless, the connotative function of a given text does not necessarily preclude the presence (and even abundance) of denotative devices. For instance, an essential part of the canonical prose of eighteenth- and nineteenth-century American English was produced by the likes of Thomas Jeêrson and Abraham Lincoln, in a milieu in which the utilitarian purpose of their words did not undermine the aesthetic eêct that original audiences evidently appreciated and which still resonates with modern readers. Moreover, it is often the case that compositions that may seem of dubious literariness are ultimately linked to the literary corpus through a web of allusions and intertextual kinship (Rubio 2003). More importantly, as Brisch notes (pp. 18–19), some hymns may well have been originally inscribed on monuments, since, for instance, some are attested in multi-column tablets, a format that could be used for copies of monumental inscriptions. The introduction ends with a brief re˘ection on the relation between history and literature, which follows Liverani in deñing ideology as a “virtual inversion of reality” and propaganda as “the deliberate manipulation of reality to make it ˜t into ideology. The traditional Marxist approach to ideology can be nuanced with Gramsci’s understanding of hegemony, that is, the set of ideas used by the ruling class to 117

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win the majority’s consent (e.g., the “common sense” of the bourgeoisie). Thus, propaganda would simply be the mechanism to manufacture such consent. Nonetheless, the concept of ideology is elusive and cannot be limited to a Marxist framework. Foucault’s recycling of episteme and his use of “discourse” (now common currency) seem more functional, even if the former is metatheoretical and the latter inherently linguistic. The ˜rst chapter (“Hymns, Genre, Schools, and Letters”) explores the nature of the hymnic and epistolographic genres and their place within the school setting. The discussion of the term e n3 - d u / e n8 - d u in contrast with s i r3 is particularly interesting (pp. 16–19), as the former (sometimes quali˜ed as e n3 d u l u g a l) is the native term for “(royal) hymn.” It is important to stress the diêrence between song (s i r3 ) and hymn (e n3 - d u). As the author notes (p. 17), e n3 - d u does not occur as a subscript, whereas s i r3 is a common one. Nevertheless, most subscripts (Unterschriften) in Sumerian manuscripts have a musical connotation (Rubio 2009: 23, 63–70): musical instruments, as is often the case with royal hymns (b a l a g, t i g i, a - d a - a b); s i r3 or one of its compounds (s i r3 - g i d2 - d a, s i r3 - n a m - s u b, s i r3 - n a m g a l a); and other aspects of performance, such as b a l - b a l - e (perhaps “multi-modal song”; Kilmer, RlA 8: 470) and u3 - l u - l u - m a - m a (“ululation song”). Only a couple of subscripts have no explicit musical meaning or do not include the term s i r2: e r2 - s a3 - h u n - g a2 “wail or dirge to soothe the heart (of an irate god)” and s u - i l2 - l a “the raising of the hand (in a praying posture).” (In this respect, the meaning of k u n - g a r remains elusive.) Thus, it is not surprising that e n3 - d u does not occur in subscripts. It is perhaps possible that e n3 - d u refers to hymnic compositions that were chanted or simply recited, as opposed to those that were properly sung, with or without instrumental accompaniment; the latter would have been placed under the general umbrella of s i r3. In fact, the same composition may well have known both performative modalities. Furthermore, the Larsa royal hymns exhibit a new subscript, which starts with Sîn-iddinam and Rÿm-Sîn and continues in use all the way to Hammurabi and Samsuil¿na (p. 116): KING’S NAME l u g a l - m u (e.g., dri-im-dsîn l u g a l - m u). In at least one composition (Rÿm-Sîn C, UET 6/1 102), this subscript is followed, after the line count, by s u d3 - d e3 an “prayer of An” (61). The label s u d3 - d e3 appears in stark contrast with s i r3 and may also imply that these hymns were not sung, as the author observes (p. 116). Regarding content, the very term “hymn” conveys the unique impression these compositions leave on the modern reader. In the classical theory of genres, a hymn is devoted to a deity, to abstractions (as in Shelley’s “Hymn to Intellectual Beauty”), or to other non-human entities, such as rivers, the night, and so forth (Novalis and Hölderlin come to mind). A composition praising a mortal is an encomion (or a panegyric). The distinction between encomion and hymn is explicit in Plato (Republic 607a) and implicit in Aristotle (Poetics 1448b). However, it was not uncommon for the Greeks to call any song a hymn (Ford 2002: 131). In Sumerian, labeling these royal encomia as “hymns” turns out to be quite ˜tting if one thinks of the nature of Mesopotamia political theology, in which kings “were beyond category; they did not combine human and divine aspects, rather they existed above and beyond this fundamental classi˜catory distinction” (Michalowski 2008: 41). Nevertheless, the author, explicitly aware of the pitfalls of the term “hymn,” often opts for “praise songs” instead. Concerning the genesis of genres within the realm of literary letters, Brisch puts forward a sound critique of Hallo’s theory that letter-prayers originated as an inexpensive alternative to votive gifts. Of all the author’s arguments against this theory, perhaps the only one that seems problematic pertains to the complexity of the literary language of these letter-prayers, “which would not have been comprehensible to the masses” (p. 33). The trouble is that, cross-culturally, prayers are often regarded with more awe when their language departs substantially from the spoken language, even if this jeopardizes their understandability. The very use of Sumerian, by now essentially no one’s mother tongue, would be su¯cient proof of the linguistic arti˜ciality and intended artfulness of the letter-prayers. Chapter 2 (“The Larsa Court Literature, Part 1: Songs of Praise”) reviews, king by king, this corpus of royal hymns in their literary and historical context, the latter paying special attention to royal inscripOne [Body] Line Long

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tions. This chapter is exemplary of the author’s ability to deal with the ñest details of philology while producing a sophisticated literary analysis of the texts. For instance, the author (p. 64) addresses Steible’s theory that Rÿm-Sîn E and G were coronation hymns. As Brisch points out, references to royal regalia may simply constitute a literary device to stress the importance of such symbols in articulating a discourse about kingship. This is representative of a cautious and intelligent approach to the relation between literature and realia (history, rituals). This chapter ends with a comparison between the Larsa royal hymns and those from Ur III and Isin. The author notes that some important motifs and elements present in Ur III and Isin compositions are absent in Larsa; for example, the theo-political topos of “sacred marriage” and the king’s glori˜cation in the scribal schools. Moreover, the most important question is why the Larsa royal hymns did not make it into the Nippur curriculum, in which only Gungunum A and Rÿm-Sîn E are attested. Brisch puts forward some sensible possibilities (pp. 73–74), which may have acted in conjunction. First, if the Babylonian rulers had any in˘uence on the making of the scribal curriculum, they may have had no particular interest in the transmission of poems singing the praises of the kings some of them had recently defeated. Secondly, the style and poetics of the Larsa hymns sets them apart from the Ur III and Isin compositions. Finally, the Larsa rulers, as in the case of the kings of Babylon, paid little attention to Nippur in their edicts. This fact poses a stark contrast with the role of Nippur during Ur III—especially through the b a l a - tax system, which served to sustain the temples and the cultic life at Nippur—as well as the special treatment aôrded to Nippur by the Isin kings, whose edicts often exempted it from taxes and the military draft. Chapter 3 (“The Larsa Court Literature, Part 2: Letters of Petition”) studies the royal letters-prayers from Larsa, which constitute a very small corpus: two from Sîn-iddinam to Nin-Isina and to Utu, and two addressed to Rÿm-Sîm (from Ninsatapada and from Nanna-mansum). The letter from the priestess and princess Ninsatapada to Rÿm-Sîm is one of the rare examples—along with the legendary tradition about Enheduanna—in which the authorship of a composition is attributed to a woman. As the author stresses (pp. 87–89), the label “royal correspondence” seems here a misnomer, since these compositions do not constitute a body of political correspondence, but rather letters of petition. Brisch addresses previous theories that connected these literary letters with ex-voto oêrings to gods (Hallo, Böck). As the author notes (pp. 88–89), the verb g u b used in these compositions does not mean “to erect, to stand,” but rather “to write,” as in Enmerkar and the Lord of Aratta 503 and Rÿm-Sîn B 52. Moreover, the curricular context of the genre of letters of petition does not seem to support the personal cultic purpose. Letter Collection B, which comprises several letters of petition and one votive inscription, also includes one letter from the Royal Correspondence of Ur, a few letters of Isin rulers, letters to unknown rulers, a letter from a monkey to his mother, the Tummal inscription, and even the public announcement of a lost seal. No wonder that Michalowski has suggested renaming this collection Sumerian Epistolary Miscellany (p. 32). It is, therefore, rather clear that letters of petition were regarded as part of the materials belonging in the scribal curriculum. Moreover, concerning contents, as the author concludes, these letters are much closer to the genre of wisdom texts, such as the Babylonian Ludlul bel nemeqi. Chapter 4 (“Larsa Sumerian”) dwells on various linguistic matters, including synchronic and diachronic variation in Sumerian (e.g., e m e - s a l and the death of Sumerian) and, more importantly, the main grammatical features of the Larsa corpus in comparison to other corpora (chie˘y Ur III, Isin, and OB Nippur).1 A few points deserve particular attention. The seemingly locative function of the ablativeinstrumental case ending -ta in an expression such as s a h a r - t a . . . t u s may actually originate in a change of verbal valency (Balke 2006: 108 n. 457). This is probably what lies behind the very limited case variance one actually ñds in this expression, which is far more common with the expected locative (s a h a r - r a) than with the ablative-instrumental su¯x: 1. Aside from the references included by Brisch (pp. 92–93), further arguments in favor of the death of Sumerian as anyone’s mother tongue during Ur III can be found in Rubio (2006).

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• s a h a r - r a . . . t u s occurs with the conjugation pre˜x ba- and the singular hamu stem: b a - d a - a n t u s (Gilgames, Enkidu and the Netherworld 253; Inanna’s Descent 308, 331; Sargon Legend TRS 73 rev. 7; Lamentation over Sumer and Ur 410); b a - a n - d a - t u s (TMH nF 4.84 obv. 18u); b a - a n - t u s (Uruk Lament 21); and b a - e - t u s (UET 6 24 obv. 6u). The only exceptions are forms with the modal pre˜x he-, such as s a h a r - r a h e2 - e m - t a - t u s in Gudea Stat. B ix 11.2 • s a h a r - t a seems to occur only once in the literary corpus, with the plural stem d u r u nx (= d u r2 d u r2 = TU†-TU†), in Enki and Ninhursag 222 (s a h a r - t a i m - m i - i n - d u r u nx - n e - e s). Most allegedly locative functions of the ablative-instrumental case marker can be explained as strictly idiomatic (as in k a k - t a . . . l a2 “to hang on a nail,” but Spanish colgar de un clavo, literally “to hang from a nail”) or as sporadic shifts in verbal valency, as when actual speakers produce similar misconstructions in any modern language. Concerning the occurrence of the locative-terminative su¯x /-e/ with a strictly locative function, instead of the proper locative /-a/, in Old Babylonian compositions (pp. 97–98), this may simply be a confusion caused by Akkadian interference. In Akkadian the prepositional system does not show the same distinction between both functions: Akkadian ina and ana do not ful˜ll the same syntactical functions performed by the locative /-a/ and the locative-terminative /-e/ in Sumerian; one may think, for instance, of the use of these Sumerian cases with compound verbs and causative constructions. Moreover, the di¯culty of using this feature for dating cannot be overlooked. In a scribal corpus as miscellaneous as the Decad, which includes compositions with roots in the third millennium (e.g., The Kes Temple Hymn and †ulgi A), along with others that can be dated to the Old Babylonian period only (e.g., Lipit-Estar A and The Song of the Hoe), the occurrences of /-e/ in lieu of /-a/ in diêrent manuscripts of the same composition pertain mostly to the locative-terminative marking the second object of a compound verb versus the locative marking the same function (Delnero 2005: 409–30). This phenomenon mirrors the hierarchy of markedness of syntactical functions in Sumerian, in which the locative is more marked than the locative-terminative (Karahashi 2000: 70). Thus, the immediate cause of the occurrence of /-e/ instead of /-a/ in those textual variants is a corollary of markedness: the locative-terminative (less marked) is a more common case ending for the second object of a compound verb, so it often constitutes a lectio facilior in the mind of the scribe. The section on verbal morphology begins with some insightful remarks about the “breakdown of animacy” in Old Babylonian Sumerian (pp. 103–4), which explains the use of the pronominal pre˜xes /-n-/ and /-b-/ as if they were interchangeable, as well as some occurrences of the pronominal inanimate possessive and determinative su¯x -bi instead of the animate su¯x -ani, although -bi sometimes functions as a conjunction of sorts, “and, along with” (pp. 100–102). This leads Brisch to address the nature of compound verbs in Sumerian. Here Attinger’s theory on noun incorporation and Karahashi’s on lexical compounding are summarized. However, in Sumerian, one may generally analyze the nominal element in a compound verb simply as a direct object that has become part of a lexicalized sequence (Rubio 2007: 1368–69). Attinger’s argument regarding the frequent absence of a pronominal pre˜x (/-b-/) marking the direct object (the nominal element) with marû forms does not pose a real obstacle, since this happens also with many verbs that are not compound. Thus, Sumerian compound verbs do not really pertain to the realm of morphology but to that of syntax. In this regard, it is misleading to analyze them in the light of noun incorporation in other languages, since the latter is primarily a morphological mechanism, sometimes productive (as in American Indian languages), sometimes unproductive and frozen in time, e.g., Latin credere “to believe,” from the root of Latin cor “heart” and the Indo-European root *dheh1- “to place.”

2. On /ba-/ with t u s and other verbs involving “body-action events,” see Woods (2008: 226–31).

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Having said this, the Larsa corpus is unique in this respect, since in it this syntactical phenomenon would seem to have crossed over to the realm of morphology and become truly noun incorporation (pp. 105–7). For instance, constructions such as these show actual noun incorporation in the morphology of Larsa verbs: dn a n n a dn i n - g a l - b i s u h e2- e b - s u - t e - g a2 - n e “may Nanna and Ningal accept it (s u – t e)” (Rÿm-Sîn F 44); l u g a l s u e2 - a ªh e2 - g a l2º m a - r a - s i - s a2 “O king, the temple prepares abundance for you” (Rÿm-Sîn G 19). Whereas in the former example, the double occurrence of s u, within and outside the verbal form, marks a transitional stage between a syntactical and a morphological phenomenon, in the latter example, the single occurrence of s i within the verbal form constitutes a full-˘edged instance of noun incorporation. Outside Larsa, there are just a handful of instances of this morphological compounding, which pertain to s i – s a2 “to prepare” and to s u – d u7 “to complete,” and are attested mostly in manuscripts from places other than Nippur (106; and Karahashi 2000: 27 n. 12). Nevertheless, in most instances, the nominal part of the compound occurs twice, within and outside the verbal form (as in Rÿm-Sîn F 44). Thus, rather than actual noun incorporation, what we have here is most likely a matter of Akkadian interference: scribes would have reinterpreted compound verbs as single lexical units, as Brisch notes (p. 106). There are further examples that point to a lack of understanding of the syntactical nature of Sumerian compound verbs on the part of Larsa scribes (pp. 108–9). In the realm of syntax, Brisch points out that the Larsa texts exhibit a particular agentive construction (pp. 110–12). The so-called Mesanepada construction is attested in the personal name m e s - a n - n e2 p a d3 - d a /m e s a n - e p a d3 - a/ (lad An-ERG call-NOMINALIZER) “the lad called by An.” Diachronically, the pattern AGENT-e VERB-a is the most common in the inscriptions of kings of the Ur III dynasty, but the pattern VERB-a AGENT-ak is most frequently used in pre-Sargonic and Gudea texts (Civil 1996: 165). In an Ur III literary text, one ñds the same construction characteristic of the Gudea and pre-Sargonic texts: a gestu2 sum-ma de n - k i - k a “semen given wisdom by Enki” (6N-T450 obv. 11, about Gilgames). The Larsa literary texts show a peculiar pattern, a variation on the word order of the Mesanepada construction: VERB-a AGENT-e; for example, s i p a m u p a d3 - d a a n k u3 - g e “shepherd named by pure An” (Rÿm-Sîn C 1). On this point, the author’s proposal (p. 112) that this construction may stem from a confusion between the case endings /-a/ and /-e/ would only make sense if the verb exhibited the ergative ending and the agent the nominalized (a hypothetical **VERB-e AGENT-a). Chapter 4 ends with a short section on the possible semantic change exhibited by the verb d u8 (pp. 112–13), which is based on a variant in line 30 of the letter from Sîn-iddinam to Utu, in which one manuscript has u r u - g a2 m e3 ªs e n - s e n b a?º - a n - t u k u, where another one has i t iªki º - g a2 s e n s e n - n a l a - b a - d u8. Brisch argues that this variant may stem from the interference of the semantic range of the Akkadian verb patarum (especially its N-stem). In her conclusions (pp. 115–20), the author focuses on the signi˜cance of the Larsa corpus for the history of the Sumerian literature. She states the case she has built so convincingly throughout the previous chapters: the Larsa royal hymns moved from a traditional set of devices and generic conventions to a more innovative framework and style. The absence of traditional subscripts and the presence of the aforementioned subscript KING’S NAME l u g a l - m u, sometimes followed by s u d3 - d e3 “prayer,” sets the genre of these Larsa hymns aside from the hymns devoted to Ur III and Isin kings (pp. 72, 116–17). Whereas the latter are focused on the exaltation of the king’s physical and intellectual abilities, the Larsa hymns concentrate on the king’s ritual activities and his divine-like benevolence. One could argue here that the Larsa royal hymns articulate a more sophisticated theo-political discourse of kingship, superseding the mere encomion of an individual’s allegedly exceptional nature and replacing it with a contextualized understanding of the value of kingship. In modern, and admittedly anachronistic, terms, this would represent a move from a (totalitarian) cult of personality in Ur III and Isin to a purportedly rationalized justi˜cation of (dictatorial) power in Larsa and later on in Babylon.

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The distinctive nature of the Larsa royal hymns stands in contrast to the most miscellaneous tone of the literary letters in the same corpus (pp. 117–19). For instance, whereas the petition letters from Sîniddinam to Nin-Isina and Utu portray the king in a negative light, Rÿm-Sîn’s letters praise the king for his physical and intellectual activities, not unlike a typical Ur III or Isin royal hymn. It is within this tension between tradition and innovation that Brisch places the Larsa literary corpus, which seems amply supported by her study of its literary, ideological, and linguistic features. Furthermore, whereas only a couple of Larsa royal hymns are attested in the Nippur curriculum, at least three of the petition letters are known in Nippur manuscripts, including one (from Sîn-iddinam to Utu) that exists in a NeoAssyrian bilingual version (pp. 162–67, 269). The ñal chapter ends with an appealing suggestion (p. 120). It has been noted before that all the Ur manuscripts of Rÿm-Sîn’s poetic compositions were found at house no. 7 on Quiet Street, the dwelling of the priest Enamtisud, who was probably still alive during the beginning of the southern insurrection against Babylonian occupation. The rebellion was started by a certain Rÿm-Anum at Uruk during the eighth year of the reign of Samsuil¿na but eventually continued by Rÿm-Sîn II, who was probably the king of Larsa and son of Warad-Sîn (Rositani 2003: 15–26; Charpin 2004: 337–40). The compositions devoted to Rÿm-Sîn would have taken on a new meaning during the revolt against the Babylonian king, and their being copied at Ur may have been part of the local atmosphere of dissent and political opposition. The annotated editions with matrix-based scores and composite texts of most of the Larsa literary corpus (fourteen compositions) appear in a series of appendixes, which actually constitute more than a half of the book: three royal hymns of Sîn-iddinam (A–C) and eight of Rÿm-Sîn (A–H), along with two petition letters from Sîn-iddinam (to Nin-Isina and to Utu) and one to Rÿm-Sîn (from Ninsatapada). The ˜fteenth appendix consists of a catalogue of the Larsa literary corpus. These annotated texts editions, along with the ñal photographs and copies, provide scholars and interested readers with the bulk of the Old Babylonian Larsa literary corpus. The commentary to the editions is sometimes rather austere, but it does not fail to dwell on serious problems. The philological work seems both sound and reliable. As it pertains to the annotations, this reviewer would make only a couple of minor additional observations. Brisch notes (125) that a grammatical di¯culty is found in Sîn-iddinam A, CT 42 45 13u: dn i n - l i l2 l a2 m i2 z i n a - m u - u n - e “Ninlil spoke kindly to him” (but most likely n a - ªm u - u n - d u g4?º in the Ur version, UET 6/1 98:6). In Old Babylonian literary texts, a number of occurrences of /na-/ with marû stems, especially with e, seem to be simply “agrammatical,” since some marû forms with /na-/ are clearly epistemic or a¯rmative (see references in Thomsen 1984: 195; Attinger 1993: 290–91). This can be compared to the complicated textual transmission of lines 151–52 of Gilgames, Enkidu and the Netherworld, in which the Nippur manuscripts have (s i l i m) n a - m u - u n - e, whereas the Ur ones have (e l l a g) n a - m u - u n - e3 or n a - m u - u n - e3 - d e3 (Attinger 1993: 676; Gadotti 2005: 366–67). Moreover, as Civil (2000: 37–38) has pointed out, the epistemic /na-/ marks reported speech in a very general sense (including the opening passages of narrative compositions), and it can occur with formulas introducing direct speech, such as forms of the compound verb s i l i m - s e3 – d u g4, in which the verbal stem is often marû.3 In dealing with an expression in line 16 of the letter from Sîn-iddinam to Utu (p. 168), the author refers to a Hammurabi bilingual of di¯cult classi˜cation (BM 90842 = CT 21 40–42 = King, LIH

3. The opposite problem would occur in Enlil and Ninlil 40, 47, and 49, verses in which /na-/ occurs with the hamtu stem in what seems to be a deontic modality (prohibitive): g i s3 - b i n a - m u - u n - d u g4 n e - b i n a - m u - u n - s u - u b (47 and 49). As Cooper points out, these forms could hardly be a¯rmative (epistemic), since Enlil has not had sex with Ninlil yet in the composition (1980: 181–82).

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no. 60), which was inscribed on the torso of an Old Babylonian statue. In spite of the author’s remarks in this regard, this composition is indeed mentioned by Wasserman (2003: 185–86, 195 no. 61), who places it in the context of “a few inscriptions with distinctive hymnic phraseology.” In fact, the very lines mentioned by Brisch are discussed by Wasserman (2003: 112). Moreover, Wasserman (1992) has put forward a convincing case for this Hammurabi bilingual to be regarded as a royal hymn. This composition is now also attested in a large fragment of a four-column tablet from Sippar (IM 124468; Fadhil and Pettinato 1995). This tablet probably dates to the Neo-Babylonian period but exhibits an archaizing ductus intended to mimic the Old Babylonian script that appeared on the original inscription of which this tablet is most likely a copy. Concerning the occurrence of g e s t u2 - g e s t u2 in Rÿm-Sîn B 2 (192), to the attestation in Inanna and †ukaleduta 48 mentioned by the author, one should add at least two others: †ulgi B 305 (g e s t u2 g e s t u2 - g a d i r i - g a - m u - s e3 “because of my supreme wisdom”) and Inanna-Dumuzi T 15 (TCL 16 70:15). In the latter, it is spelled with g e s t u (PI) instead of g e s t u2 (GI†.TUG2.PI): k u3 - s i g17 g e s t u g e s t u s a l - l a i n - p a d3 - d e3 g e s t u2 - n a m u - u n - g a2 - g a2 “she ñds the ñe gold earrings and puts them in her ears” (Sefati 1998: 247–49). In sum, this book constitutes a solid piece of scholarship, in which the author’s detailed philological work leads to a wide array of conclusions that should interest all Assyriologists, as well as readers preoccupied with Mesopotamian and ancient Near Eastern literature. Among its many virtues, this book brings a reñed level of literary awareness to the study of Sumerian literature, which is both refreshing and comforting. Brisch does not fall into the all-too-common trap of searching for alleged “historical kernels” and stays away from reading literature as encoded historiography. Although the author seems constantly aware of the historical setting and the ideological and propagandistic elements involved in the conception and transmission (or often times lack thereof outside Larsa) of the compositions under study, she treats them ˜rst and foremost as literary works and as cultural artifacts. One can only welcome a work of this intelligence and congratulate the author for her important contribution to the ˜eld. References Attinger, P. 1993 Eléments de linguistique sumérienne: La construction de du11/e/di. OBO Sonderband. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht. Balke, T. E. 2006 Das sumerische Dimensionalkasussystem. AOAT 331. Münster: Ugarit-Verlag. Charpin, D. 2004 Histoire politique du Proche-Orient Amorrite (2002–1595).” Pp. 23–480 in Mesopotamien: Die altbabylonische Zeit, eds. D. Charpin, D. O. Edzard, and M. Stol. OBO 160/4. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht. Civil, M. 1996 Literary Text about Ur-Namma. AuOr 14: 163–67. 2000 Modal Pre˜xes. ASJ 22 (FsYoshikawa): 29–42. Cooper, J. 1980 Review of H. Behrens, Enlil und Ninlil: Ein sumerischer Mythos aus Nippur (Rome, 1978). JCS 32: 175–88. Delnero, P. 2006 Variation in Sumerian Literary Compositions: A Case Study Based on the Decad. Ph.D. dissertation. University of Pennsylvania. Fadhil, A., and Pettinato, G. 1995 Inno ad Hammurabi da Sippar. Orientis Antiqui Miscellanea 2: 173–87. Ford, A. 2002 The Origins of Criticism: Literary Culture and Poetic Theory in Classical Greece. Princeton: Princeton University Press.

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Gadotti, A. 2005 Gilgames, Enkidu and the Nertherworld’ and the Sumerian Gilgames Cycle. Ph.D. disseratation. The Johns Hopkins University. Karahashi, F. 2000 Sumerian Compound Verbs with Body-Part Terms. Ph.D. dissertation. University of Chicago. Michalowski, P. 2008 The Mortal Kings of Ur: A Short Century of Divine Rule in Ancient Mesopotamia. Pp. 33–45 in Religion and Power: Divine Kingship in the Ancient World and Beyond, ed. N. Brisch. Oriental Institute Seminars 4. Chicago: The Oriental Institute of the University of Chicago. Rositani, A. 2003 Rÿm-Anum Texts in the British Museum. Nisaba 4. Rome: Di.Sc.A.M. Rubio, G. 2003 Early Sumerian Literature: Enumerating the Whole. Pp. 131–42 in De la tablilla a la inteligencia arti˜cial: Homenaje al Prof. J.L. Cunchillos, Vol. I, eds. J.-P. Vita and A. González Blanco. Zaragoza: Instituto de Estudios Islámicos y del Oriente Próximo. 2006 Shulgi and the Death of Sumerian. Pp. 167–79 in Approaches to Sumerian Literature (FsVanstiphout), eds. P. Michalowski and N. Veldhuis. CM 35. Leiden: Brill. 2007 Sumerian Morphology. Pp. 1311–64 in Morphologies of Asia and Africa, vol. 2, ed. A. S. Kaye. Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns. 2009 Sumerian Literature. Pp. 11–75 in From an Antique Land: An Introduction to Ancient Near Eastern Literature, ed. C. Ehrlich. Lanham: Rowman & Little˜eld. Sefati, Y. 1998 Love Songs in Sumerian Literature. Ramat Gan: Bar-Ilan University Press. Thomsen, M.-L. 1984 The Sumerian Language. Mesopotamia 10. Copenhagen: Academic Press. Veldhuis, N. 2004 Religion, Literature, and Scholarship: The Sumerian Composition “Nanse and the Birds.” CM 22. Leiden: Brill/Styx. Wasserman, N. 1995 CT 21, 40–42: A Bilingual Report of an Oracle with a Royal Hymn of Hammurabi. RA 86: 1–18. 2003 Style and Form in Old-Babylonian Literary Texts. CM 27. Leiden: Brill/Styx. Woods, C. 2008 The Grammar of Perspective: The Sumerian Conjugation Pre˜xes as a System of Voice. CM 32. Leiden: Brill.

Aaron Shaêr, Ur Excavation Texts VI. Literary and Religious Texts, Third Part. With a contribution by Marie-Christine Ludwig. London: The British Museum Press, 2006. 36 pp., 100 pl. ISBN 0-71411161-9; 978-0-7141-1161-2. L45.00. Compte rendu de P. Attinger, Université de Berne. Ce volume très attendu clôt la publication des textes littéraires, religieux et scolaires découverts à Ur durant les fouilles poursuivies par Sir Leonard Woolley entre 1922 et 1934. Il est essentiellement l’oeuvre du regretté Aaron Shaêr, qui y travailla quelque quarante ans (avant tout durant ses vacances), mais ne put l’achever avant sa mort en avril 2004. La tâche de mener à terme l’ouvrage fut reprise par C. Walker, assisté par M.-C. Ludwig. Mme Ludwig ˜t une nouvelle copie de 23 textes (certaines des copies de Shaêr s’étaient détériorées au cours des années) et “checked all of the other copies in detail against the original fragments and made changes where necessary” (p. 9). Après une introduction de M.-C. Ludwig et C. Walker suivent un catalogue des textes établi par Shaêr (je l’aurais souhaité un peu plus détaillé; pp. 11–26), l’indication des dimensions des tablettes (pp. 27–31),

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Gadotti, A. 2005 Gilgames, Enkidu and the Nertherworld’ and the Sumerian Gilgames Cycle. Ph.D. disseratation. The Johns Hopkins University. Karahashi, F. 2000 Sumerian Compound Verbs with Body-Part Terms. Ph.D. dissertation. University of Chicago. Michalowski, P. 2008 The Mortal Kings of Ur: A Short Century of Divine Rule in Ancient Mesopotamia. Pp. 33–45 in Religion and Power: Divine Kingship in the Ancient World and Beyond, ed. N. Brisch. Oriental Institute Seminars 4. Chicago: The Oriental Institute of the University of Chicago. Rositani, A. 2003 Rÿm-Anum Texts in the British Museum. Nisaba 4. Rome: Di.Sc.A.M. Rubio, G. 2003 Early Sumerian Literature: Enumerating the Whole. Pp. 131–42 in De la tablilla a la inteligencia arti˜cial: Homenaje al Prof. J.L. Cunchillos, Vol. I, eds. J.-P. Vita and A. González Blanco. Zaragoza: Instituto de Estudios Islámicos y del Oriente Próximo. 2006 Shulgi and the Death of Sumerian. Pp. 167–79 in Approaches to Sumerian Literature (FsVanstiphout), eds. P. Michalowski and N. Veldhuis. CM 35. Leiden: Brill. 2007 Sumerian Morphology. Pp. 1311–64 in Morphologies of Asia and Africa, vol. 2, ed. A. S. Kaye. Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns. 2009 Sumerian Literature. Pp. 11–75 in From an Antique Land: An Introduction to Ancient Near Eastern Literature, ed. C. Ehrlich. Lanham: Rowman & Little˜eld. Sefati, Y. 1998 Love Songs in Sumerian Literature. Ramat Gan: Bar-Ilan University Press. Thomsen, M.-L. 1984 The Sumerian Language. Mesopotamia 10. Copenhagen: Academic Press. Veldhuis, N. 2004 Religion, Literature, and Scholarship: The Sumerian Composition “Nanse and the Birds.” CM 22. Leiden: Brill/Styx. Wasserman, N. 1995 CT 21, 40–42: A Bilingual Report of an Oracle with a Royal Hymn of Hammurabi. RA 86: 1–18. 2003 Style and Form in Old-Babylonian Literary Texts. CM 27. Leiden: Brill/Styx. Woods, C. 2008 The Grammar of Perspective: The Sumerian Conjugation Pre˜xes as a System of Voice. CM 32. Leiden: Brill.

Aaron Shaêr, Ur Excavation Texts VI. Literary and Religious Texts, Third Part. With a contribution by Marie-Christine Ludwig. London: The British Museum Press, 2006. 36 pp., 100 pl. ISBN 0-71411161-9; 978-0-7141-1161-2. L45.00. Compte rendu de P. Attinger, Université de Berne. Ce volume très attendu clôt la publication des textes littéraires, religieux et scolaires découverts à Ur durant les fouilles poursuivies par Sir Leonard Woolley entre 1922 et 1934. Il est essentiellement l’oeuvre du regretté Aaron Shaêr, qui y travailla quelque quarante ans (avant tout durant ses vacances), mais ne put l’achever avant sa mort en avril 2004. La tâche de mener à terme l’ouvrage fut reprise par C. Walker, assisté par M.-C. Ludwig. Mme Ludwig ˜t une nouvelle copie de 23 textes (certaines des copies de Shaêr s’étaient détériorées au cours des années) et “checked all of the other copies in detail against the original fragments and made changes where necessary” (p. 9). Après une introduction de M.-C. Ludwig et C. Walker suivent un catalogue des textes établi par Shaêr (je l’aurais souhaité un peu plus détaillé; pp. 11–26), l’indication des dimensions des tablettes (pp. 27–31),

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une liste des numéros de chantier et des provenances des tablettes publiées dans UET VI/1–3 (pp. 32– 35), une liste des “joins” (p. 36), quatre photos d’UET VI/10 + 433 (texte S de la Descente d’Innana aux Enfers) et 96 planches contenant les autographies. Cet ouvrage est d’une très grande richesse. On y trouve non seulement des duplicats d’un bon nombre de compositions déjà connues, mais également bien des oeuvres nouvelles, avant tout sumériennes, mais aussi akkadiennes (par ex. le no 919, un texte pseudo-épigraphique de date néobabylonienne dans lequel le roi Sulgi nous narre, à la première personne, sa victoire sur Assur et les Scythes(?); édité dans Frahm 2006). Les pages qui suivent seront consacrées essentiellement aux nouvelles leçons que nous livrent les textes d’UET VI/3 pour les “classiques” de la littérature sumérienne1. Si le duplicat était jusqu’alors inconnu, je relève aussi systématiquement que possible les divergences par rapport à la dernière édition ou, en l’absence d’édition moderne, par rapport au texte composite d’ETCSL. Si le texte a déjà été utilisé dans la dernière édition, mais l’autographie n’avait pas encore été publiée (par ex. no 489 = Gi{ A, texte UrA), je ne mentionne que les cas où mes lectures divergent de celle de l’éditeur2. Si en revanche les autographies ont déjà été publiées antérieurement (cela vaut surtout pour les nos 417–419 = Innana et †ukaleduda), je ne fais pas de commentaire. Depuis sa parution, UET VI/3 a été l’objet de deux comptes rendus substantiels (Römer 2007 et surtout Bauer 20073) et d’une note NABU importante où sont proposées quelques nouvelles identi˜cations (Zólyomi 2006). Je ne répéterai normalement pas leurs remarques — ni naturellement celles du catalogue d’UET VI/3. Mon compte rendu doit donc être utilisé conjointement avec les travaux de mes devanciers. Voyage d’Enki à Nippur: 415–416. Edition: Al-Fouadi (1969). Nouveaux dupl.4: Attinger (1993: 34); ajouter Sommerfeld (1992: 151/161), IB 1896 (3–7); BBVOT 3, 79 (i = 11–25; ii = 44–53; iii = 81–95; iv = 113–124); SLTNi 43 (Zólyomi 2003: 95–108). L. 12: s u t e s2 - b i b[a-. . .] (416:7) // s u - t a3 b a - n i - i n - d u11 //; comp. s u - t a b (-) b a - n i - i [n - x] dans H? — L. 17: G e6 (-) r i!?(MU†3 )5(-) i m- (416:12; sandhi pour G e6 a r2 i m-). Innana et Ebih: 744 (Zólyomi 2006). Editions: Attinger (1998); Jaques (2004; édition partielle). Descente d’Innana aux Enfers: 420–4366, 437 face-revers 1–6, 456 (123–127). Editions: Sladek (1974), Alster (1996; édition partielle). Nouveaux dupl.: Attinger (1993: 39); ajouter Veldhuis (2000: 74 sq./90), UM 29-16-35 face (26–35; version cassite divergente).

1. A l’exception des dialogues (nos 629–642), dont il n’existe ni édition ni texte composite dans ETCSL. Mme Catherine Mittermayer m’a fait plus d’une suggestion concernant la lecture de passages di¯ciles (infra C.M.); qu’elle trouve ici l’expression de ma reconnaissance. Pour le système de translittération adopté, v. Attinger dans Mittermayer 2006 et Attinger 2007. Les abréviations utilisées sont en général celles usuelles en assyriologie (pour les compositions sumériennes, v. toutefois Attinger 1993: 31–59). 2. Delnero 2006, qui contient les partitions de la décade (pp. 1858–2474), n’a pas été utilisé comme texte de référence, car l’ouvrage (non encore publié) est de diûsion très restreinte. 3. Qui contient aux pp. 400–403 une très précieuse concordance entre les anciens et les nouveaux numéros d’UET VI/3. 4. Dans les pages qui suivent, je signale les duplicats parus après (/omis dans) la dernière édition. 5. Delnero (2006: 2250) lit ar. 6. 425: ll. 5u–8u = 139–142; 432: le fragment copié est UET VI/3, 890; C.B.F. Walker publiera UET VI/3, 432 dans un avenir prochain.; 433: v. aussi Ferrara 2006 (la tablette ayant déjà été translittérée et traduite par S.N. Kramer et B. Alster [catalogue p. 11], les variantes n’ont pas été relevées ici).

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L. 9b (// E i 6u): u r i m5ki - ªaº e2 - d e l m u n - n aki [. . .] (437:5u). — L. supplémentaire après 9b: ªa r a r m a(2)ºki - a e2 - m [e]? - u [r4? - u r4 . . .] (437:6u). — L. 10: a d a bki (437:9u; omet le locatif). — L. 11: ªn i b r uºki (437:4u; omet le locatif). — L. 12: e2!? - h u r - s a G - [k a l a m - m a] (437:10u). — L. 17: [tu9s] u - g u r k a r a2 - d a ªxº [. . .] (437:16u). — L. 18: [x] - ªxº - a au lieu de h i - l i (437:17u). — L. 20: ªxº - n i au lieu de g a b a - n a (437 rev. 2). — L. 28: [x] - a - n i g a - s a - a n - a n - [. . .] (437 rev. 3). — L. 29: s u g a l7 z i ªs a3? e2 a nº - [n a . . .] (437 rev. 4). — L. 31: ªr aº - g a b a e - n e - ªxº g e - e n - g [e . . .] / ªe - n e - fie G3 (?)fl s a - r a - a b d u11 - g a - G u10 [. . .] (437 rev. 5 sq.; version divergente). — L. 64: ªdºi n n a n a au lieu de dg a - s a - a n - n a (420:5u). — Ll. 124–126: [. . .] - n i - t a Ges-tu9ªG e s t uº b [a -. . .] / [. . .] u m u n7 - b i ªs iº - G a r ªb i2? - xº - [. . .] / [. . .] ªx u m u n7º - b i ªs iº - G a r h e2 - ªxº - [. . .] (456:2u–4u); pour la l. 126, comp. le dupl. CT 58, 49:12u: [. . .] u m u n7 - b i s i - G a r - b i bar(MA†) - b i b i2!? - i b2 - u s2. — L. 127: [d]i n n a n a (421:3u; - r a omis). — L. 162 ou 163d7: s i - a m e k u r - r a - k e4 (. . .) (424 rev. 3u; omet di n n a n a). — Ll. 163a–163e = K 13u–17u // P 6– 10 // 423:7u–[11u] (omises dans les textes composites de Sladek et d’ETCSL). Texte reconstruit: KA2.GAL m i n - k a m - m a (// [a] s3 - k a m - m a) k u4 - k u4 - d a - n i - ªt aº / h i - l i s a G - k i - n a l u2 b a - d a a n - z i / [t] a - a m3 (// [a - n a - a] m3 ) e - n e (//) / [s i - a d]i n n a n a m e k u r - r a - k e4 / k a s u a l - d u7 - d u7 / ªdº ªi n n a n aº G a r z a k u r - r a - k e4 k a - z u n a - b e2 - e (P // n a - a n - [. . .] (K)). — L. 164: GIR.GIR - n a m? m a - n i uu g u6 - n i - s e3 l u2 ªxº [. . .] / ªz i2 - z i2 - LIº - m a - n i8 ªi g iº - n i - s e3 i m!? - m a!? - a n - ªxº [. . .] (424 rev. 5u sq.), [GI]R?.G[IR?-. . .] / NUN.NUN - m a - ªxº [. . .] (426:1u sq.). GIR.GIR (aussi dans P [Ur]: GIR.GIRma-ni) est énigmatique; comme il est attesté dans probabl. trois duplicats, ce ne saurait guère être une graphie non-standard de la version principale GAM.GAM - m a (- a) - n i (comp. aussi l. 122). ªz i2 - z i2 LIº a les apparences d’être une graphie non-standard de z i l - z i l, mais le -ma- suivant NUN.NUN (122 L, 164 E(?), O(?), c(?) et 426:2u) et z i2 - z i2 (-LI) (P et 424 rev. 6u) est inexplicable. — L. 166: Ges!?(GA2) g u z a (-) n i n - a - ªxº [. . .] (426:4u); repose sur une réinterprétation (sous dictée?) de Gesg u - z a - n i - t a. — L. 167: d a - n u n - k e4 - e - n e [. . .] (426:5u). — L. 168: ªi g iº m u - u n - s i - b a r (MA†) [. . .] (426:6u). — L. 170: s a G m u - d a -TUKU4.TU[KU4 . . .] (426:7u); comp. 356 S (Ur) ªs a Gº [m u - u] n - d a -TUKU4.TUKU4 g u3 n a m d a6 d u g u d - [d a m] // g u3 i - NE - d e2 (glose i-si-si-ma) g u3 n a m - d a6 - d a6 - g a (glose sa-se-e ar-ni) (U) // (C.M.). — Ll. 171–172: ªx (x)º d u17 - r a9 ªu s u3 n i G2º s [a G . . .] / Gesg a g - t a [. . .] (426:8u–9u); d u17 r a est une graphie non-standard de d u r11 - r a “malade”. — L. 185: [m u - l u k u r - r a] - k e4!? (427:7u); l u2 k u r - r a n a - b a - d a - a [n -. . .] (428:2). — L. 187: [. . . z a d i m(?)] - ªk e4º (429:1u). — L. 188: [. . .] n a G a r!? k e4 (429:2u). — L. 190: [dn i n - s u] b u r!? - r a - k a (429:4u). — L. 191: b i2!? - d u11 k i - g a l - s [e3? . . .] (429:5u). — L. 209: u r [u2 - z i2 - i bki] (430:1u). — L. 211: i g i a i a ªdº[. . .] (430:3u). — Ll. 348–353: 42610 a une version partiellement diˆérente: Gesh a s h u r g u - l a [k u l] - a b a4ki ªxº [. . .] / dd u m u - z [i] p a r a10 - m a h - [. . .] t u s / m a h - a [t u] s - a [d u r2 b i2] - i n - G a r / 350) G u l l a!? (KAR) - ªeº!? - [n e] ªxº - a - n i [b i2] - ªi nº? - d a b5 / [. . .] m u - n a - r a - d u b - d u b - b [u - x] / [. . .] m u - n a -TUKU4.TUKU4 - ªeº - [x] / [. . .] ªm u] - [u n] - ªt a3º t a3 - [. . .]. Lugale: 476–479. Edition: van Dijk (1983). Textes: B5: aussi AUWE 23, 110; e1: aussi CTN 4, 197. Nouveaux dupl.: Attinger (1993: 49); ajouter Al-Rawi (1995; 4 textes); St.M. Maul, CTMMA 2 202/pl. 61 no 43 (l. 311). L. 19: d u10 - g e - d a - a - ªn iº (476 f.! 17u). — L. 21: n [a m t] a r - r e - d a - ªaº - n i (476 f.! 19u). — L. 22: [m i n i] - i n - G a l2 (476 f.! 20u). — L. 50: [. . .] - i b2 - g e4 (476 rev.! 25).

7. Pour 163a–163e, v. infra ad loc. 8. Comp. z i2 - z i2 - ªm aº? - n i dans P (Ur). 9. ªeº - n e - r a est épigraphiquement possible, mais ne donnerait guère de sens ici; ªm u n u sº - a d u17 - r a n’est pas non plus exclu, mais serait grammaticalement di¯cile (-a). 10. Considéré originellement, mais probablement à tort, comme un fragment de S; cf. catalogue p. 12 à propos des nos 433 et 436.

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Ninurta et la tortue: 480, 655(?), 715(?) (Zólyomi 2006). Edition: Alster (2006). Voyage de NinGeszida aux Enfers: 481. Edition: Jacobsen/Alster (2000). L. 61: g e4 - b i (481 rev. 2u). Gilgames, Enkidu et les Enfers: 482–488. Editions: Shaêr (1963), Cavigneaux/Al-Rawi (2000; édition partielle), George (2003: 743–77 et 898–905; édition partielle). Nouveau dupl.: SLFN 87, 3 N-T 916, 352 (Cavigneaux/Al-Rawi 2000: 1 n. 3; f. implaçable, rev. = 218–228).11 L. 69: s a G G e s i3 - [. . .] (482:4u). — L. 70: [d] i - ªt aº (482:5u). — Ll. 79–80: [. . .] ªl iº - b i2 - i [n - d] u11? / [. . .] b i2 - i [n - d] u11? / [. . . l i] - b i2 - i [n] - d u11 / [. . .] ªb i2 - i n? - d u11º? (483:6u–9u). — L. 86: [a] m a r - b i (483:14u). — L. 87: [s a b aba] - b i (484:3u; omet le locatif). — L. 100: dg a - s a - a n - k i - g a l - l a (485:1). — L. 113: i b2 - r a - r [a] (483 rev. 3u). — L. 114: [G]esd a s g a r i d i - t a au lieu de Gesh a - l u - u b2 d i - t a - a m3 // (483 rev. 4u). — Ll. 161–164: 485 rev. 1u–6u a une version partiellement divergente: 161) [a2 g u2 z i g] a - t a z i - ªz iº - d[ a? - n i(?)] / [. . .] ªxº - a - n i a b - u5 - ªxº12 / 161a) [a g] u2 - G u10 a ªi b2º - G a2 i r2 i m G a2 - G a2 - n [e?] / 162) [s u d u3] - d u3 - a n u - m u - u n - k u s - n [e] / [i - d]ªu t uº k i - s i k i l t u r - r a - t a / [Gese l l a2 - a - n i] u3 Gese - k e4 - m a - n i d u r2 k [u r - r a (- s e3 )] b a - a n - d a - [s u b] “Comme il se levait au [petit matin], ayant (recommencé à) chevaucher là où il avait fait une marque13 — ‘Oh, ma nuque! oh, mes hanches!’, disaient-ils en pleurant —, à la suite des accusations des veuves et des [appels] à Utu des jeunes femmes, sa boule et son maillet tombèrent au fond du kur”. — L. 202: Dans 486:2, le premier signe est soit ªd u10º soit ªmurº; d u10 me semble en revanche clair dans H et dans InDesc. 232 E. — L. 208: G e s g e m b a - n i - ªi nº - [. . .] (486:6). — L. 210: i r - s i m - b i - s e3 b a - e - [. . .] (486:8). — L. 212: b a - e - [. . .] (486:10). — L. 214: k i t i m b a - e - d e3 - ªu r4º - [. . .] (486:12). — L. 216: d u11 - d u1114 (486:14). Aux lignes 194 et 216, on a probablement deux versions: à Nippur, l’idée semble être “ébranler le kur” v.s. ([d u9 d] u9 G a2 - G a2 [Y 194] // ªTUKU4!?.TUKU4º!? G a r [V 216] // d u6 - d u6 G a r [Z 216] //), à Ur15 “faire du bruit/crier dans le kur” (g u3 G a2 - G a2 [r 194] // d u11 - d u11 [. . .] (notre texte)). — L. 228: s a G d u3!? - a (487:4u; C.M.); pour la forme de DU3, comp. le IN au rev. 9u. — L. 230: n u - m u - u n - d e3 - g u b (487:5u). — L. 241a: [u r - s a G] s u l du t u dn i n - g a l - [e d u2 - d a] (487 rev. 5u); comp. rr (u r - s a G s u l du [t u . . .]) et GE XII 85. — L. 243: i m - m a - ªd a - r a - a b - e11 - d e3º (487 rev. 7u). — L. 244: [g u2] - ªn iº g u2 - d a ªm uº - u n l a2 - l a2 - e - n e (487 rev. 8u). — L. 245: [e] n3 - ªt a rº - r e i m - m [a] - ªn iº - i n - k u s2 - u3 (487 rev. 9u) “Il (Gilgames) le presse de questions”; les autres duplicats ont une 3e pl. (“Ils se pressent de questions”; comp. Lugalb. II 225–226 // 233–234). — L. 245a: [n u - u s - m a] - a b - b e2 - e n g u5 - l i - G u10 n u - u s - m a - a b b e2 - e n (487 rev. 10u; comp. 247); la ligne semble peu heureuse avant 246, mais cette variante a son répondant dans GE XII 90 sq. — L. 246: [a2 a G2] - G a2 k u r - r a - ªk e4º i g i b i2 - d u8 - a m3 (487 rev. 11u). — L. 249: z e4 - e t u s - a i r2 - r a G [e26 - e . . .] (488 rev.! 5u). — Ll. 250–253: Ces quatre lignes soulèvent des problèmes considérables, que le nouveau duplicat ne contribue guère à résoudre. Je donne ci-dessous la partition16 et une discussion succincte. 11. V. maintenant A. Gadotti, Gilgamesh, Enkidu and Netherworld and the Sumerian Gilgamesh Cycle. Ph.D. Diss., The Johns Hopkins University (2002); je n’ai malheureusement pas eu accès à cette dissertation. 12. // k i g^ e s - ªh u r i nº - h u r - r a i b2 - u5 - a (P, Nippur) // k i g^ e s - h u r i n - h u r - r e - n i i b2 - b a u5 - a (r, Ur; réinterprétation). 13. Ainsi la version de Nippur; cf. l. 159: “Ayant marqué (son endroit de la boule placée =) l’endroit où se trouvait sa boule”. 14. d u11 - d u1 dans Bauer (2007: 395) est une coquille. 15. Et dans la version akkadienne (GE XII 22 et 42), qui est généralement beaucoup plus proche d’Ur que de Nippur. 16. Omis est le texte V, dont je ne suis pas sûr qu’il doive être rangé ici; Ur10 = UET VI/3, 488 rev. 6u–9u.

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250) H rr Ur10 GE XII 96

[G e s3 s] u b i2 - i n - t a3 - ªg a s a3 - z uº b a - e - h u l2 G e s3 (-) U† [. . .] G e s3 s u b i2 - i n - [. . .] [ib-ri(?) i/u2-s]a2?-ªraº sa2 tal-pu-tu-ma lib3-ba-ka ih-du-u

251) H rr Ur10

[. . .] - s i - d u - u n b i2 - i n - d u11 G e s3 GesG u s u r [. . .] G e s e2 U†2 - a GAL? [. . .]

252) H BB CC rr Ur10 GE XII 97

[. . .] ªaº - g e n7 e h ix (U{) b i2 - i n - t [a3?] [. . .] - ªg e n7º e h ix b i2 - ªi nº!? - [. . .] [. . . m e (?)] - ªn aº? - [. . .] g a l l a4 la m e17- [. . .] [g a l l a4]la m e - n a - ªa m318 TAG?º traces [. . .] [. . . lu(?)-b]a?-ri la-bi-ri kal-ma-tu e/[i]k-kal

253) H [g a l l a4 la(?) k i] - i n - d a r - g e n7 s a h a r - r a a b - ªs iº BB [. . . - d] a r!? - r a - g e n7 s a h a r - r a a - a b - s i CC [. . .] - ªxº - r a - g e n7 ªxº [. . .] rr g a l l a4 la k i - i n - [d a r - . . .] Ur10 [g a l l a4 l]a (?) ªk i - i nº - d a r - ªg e n7º [. . .] GE XII 98 [. . . ta]l-pu-tu-ma lib3-ba-ka ih-du-u(2) GE XII 99 [. . . - t]i e-pe-ri/ra ma-li “(Ton coeur s’était réjoui du pénis qu’elle avait touché =) Après qu’elle avait touché (ton) pénis, ton coeur s’en était réjoui. Elle avait dit: ‘Tu vas aller/Je vais aller . . . pénis [comme(?)] une poutre’19. (Sa) vulve est devenue (maintenant) la proie de la vermine comme [. . .]20, c’est la poussière qui remplit (sa) vulve21 comme une crevasse”. L. 260: [kus]u m m [u3 d a g - s] i? - ªk aº a n a8 - [n a8] (486 rev. 6u). — L. 264: e2 - g a l - l a (486 rev. 10u). Gilgames et {uwawa A: 489–494. Edition: Edzard (1990, 1991). L. 4, UrB: s a G t i l - l e - b i2. — L. 148a, UrG: n i2 - t e - n i m i n - a m3 n i2 - t e - n i e [s5 - a m3]. — L. 150, UrG: G u r g u2. — L. 152c, UrG: e s g i r i K[A . . .] (George 2003: 9 n. 25). — L. 155, UrA: nu-su (pour nu-zu). 17. George (2003: 760) lit tuba. 18. Une lecture tuba s u m u n d i s!? (LI†) - ªa m3º, aussi tentante soit-elle (comp. la version akkadienne), est à peine crédible, entre autres raisons parce que tuba est pratiquement toujours précédé de tu9 à l’époque paléobab., alors qu’il ferait ici défaut dans deux duplicats; dis serait par ailleurs inexplicable. 19. Ainsi peut-être rr. La variante d’Ur10 ne m’est pas claire; y est-il question de la maison de la mort? 20. Ainsi peut-être la version de Nippur (H, BB), littéralement “On a fait la vermine toucher [(sa) vulve] comme [. . .]”; la version d’Ur a probablement “(Sa) vulve, c’est quand que . . . [. . .]?”. 21. Attendu aurait été g a l l a4la (loc.-term.) s a h a r - 0 a - a b - s i v.s. J’admets que s a h a r - r a (dans deux duplicats) recouvre s a h a r - a m3, ce qui reste un peu ad hoc. L’alternative serait de traduire “(Sa) vulve est ‘enfoncée’ (si-g + locatif) dans le sable comme une crevasse”. Cette interprétation ne donnerait de sens que si les morts gisaient sur le dos dans le kur, ce qui me semble plus que douteux!

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Enmerkara et le seigneur d’Arata: 497 (= Mittermeyer 2007, texte Wu). Edition: Mittermayer (2007). Malédiction d’Agadé: 506–507, 741 (Zólyomi 2006). Edition: Cooper (1983). Nouveaux dupl.: Alster (1993: 1–3 et 7), NBC 11119 (177–182); AUWE 23, 111 (251–258). Lamentation sur Ur: 450 (159–165 ou 149–151, 151a–151c, 152), 50822–509. Edition: Römer (2004; à compléter par ETCSL 2.2.2). Nouveaux dupl.: ISET 1, 176, Ni. 9623 (173–179); TAD 8/II, Lev. XXX, Ni. 4116 (168–173); v. aussi Attinger (1993: 46–47). L. 160: b a r - r a - b a - r a - ªa bº - [. . .] (450:2u), graphie non-standard pour b a - r a - b a - r a - a b - (cf. AA). — Ll. 162–164: h e2 - e m - m a - a G2 - e s - a - [b a] (450:4u–6u). Lamentation sur Sumer et Ur: 510–514, 552 (Bauer 2007: 397). Edition: Michalowski (1989). Nouveau dupl.: ISET 1, 146, Ni. 4348 (f.! = 203–17, rev.! = 257–69). L. 2, DD et DDb: marmaru (TE). — L. 32: [n u] - t u s - d e3 (552:2u). — L. 69, DDa: n a m - l u2 - l u7 e223 n i2 t e - b i - [. . .] — Ll. 90–94: 512 (LL) 2u–6u contient probablement les ll. 90–94; cf. surtout 2u (90) [. . .] b a l a - [. . .]; 5u (93) [. . .] ªx x (x)º - d u8 - [. . .]; 6u (94) [. . .] ªi3 - l a2 - eº? (-) a [. . .]24. — L. 312, GG: g u d ªu d uº g u7 (-) s e [m -. . .]; sandhi pour g u7 (- a) u2 - s e m? — L. 316, GG: m u - k ux (DU). — Ll. 335–336, NN: [. . .] i3 n u - [. . .] / [. . .] ªl u2º g a n [u -. . .]. — Ll. 341–342, NN: a - n a m a? - [. . .]. — L. 347, NN: ªd u6º - u r2 // d u6 - u r3 (cf. Sallaberger 1993, I: 130 avec n. 612 et Waetzoldt 2005: 337–38). — L. 423, MM: p i r i G - G a2 (de même JJ et probabl. E); ug “lion” n’a pas une ñale en /G/. Lamentation sur Uruk: 516–517. Edition: Green (1984). Nouveau dupl.: ISET 1, 146, Ni. 4348 (f.! = 203–17; rev.! = 257–69). 2.22u: e d i n - e (517 rev. 3). — 4.18, H: copié m e3 b a - z u. Sulgi B: 780 + UET VI/1, 80 (Zólyomi 2006). Texte composite: ETCSL 2.4.2.2. Amar-Suen A: 523–524. Texte composite: ETCSL 2.4.3.1; v. aussi Zólyomi (2000) et Bauer (2007: 397). Isme-Dagan A + V: 526–529. Texte composite: ETCSL 2.5.4.1. L. 80: ªxº - i n - g [e] (526 iv 1u). — L. 82: [h a - m a] - n i - g u b (526 iv 6u). — L. 167: ªn u - s a - r a - g e4º (527 vii 3u). — L. 168: h e2 - ªe m - m iº - d a b5 - d a b5 (527 vii 5u). — L. 192: k a - b a h e2 - e m - m i - g e4 (527 viii 4u; comparer par ex. Ur-Namma C 91). — L. 220: n i G2 - [x] au lieu de si s a2 - e (527 ix 4u). — L. 246: ªxº25 †U.KAD4?.†U.K[AD4? . . .] (528 x 6u). — L. 337: a - r [a2 - h i] (529 iiu 2u). — L.338: n a r g a l a n - z u - e - n e / m a - a n - G a r - r e - e s - ªa m3º (529 rev. iiu 6u–7u). — L. 339: k i d u12 - a - [x] (529 iiu 9u). — L. 341: m u - k a r a2 a - G a2 (529 iiu 15u; cf. Frayne 1998: 15). — L. 342: m i - n i - z a l a g - g e (529 rev. iiu 17u). — L. 343: l a h5 l a h5 - e - G [a2] (529 rev. iiu 19u). — L. 345: m u - u8 - s i - ªi nº - b a r - r a (529 rev. iiu 23u). — L. 369: [x (x)] 22. 23. 24. 25.

Les ll. 9u–11u = 119 et 121–122. E2 (pas LU) aussi dans BB (comp. l. 67 k u r - k u r - r e ªe2º n i2 - t a - b i - a) et peut-être TT. En N, la copie a plutôt i3 - m e - e (pas i3 - m e - a), mais i3 - l a2!? - e n’est pas exclu. Frayne (1998: 13) propose a2, ce qui n’est pas exclu.

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a d - b a?26 / [n i r m] i - n i - G a l2 - l a (529 rev. iiiu 10u–11u). — L. 400: [h u - m u] - n a - AK - e (529 rev. ivu 5u; - n a - AK - e = {ni + AK + e}). Lipit-Estar A: 530–53227. Texte composite: ETCSL 2.5.5.1. L. 52: e2 - ªk u rº - r e (532:4u). Sîn-iddinam B: 533. Edition: Brisch (2007: 130–36 et pl. I–II). Lettre d’Urdugu à Sulgi (RCU 1): 557 (“joins” à Michalowski 1976, texte I). Edition: Michalowski (1976: 135–46). P. Michalowski va publier dans un avenir prochain une nouvelle édition de la correspondance royale d’Ur, laquelle contiendra entre autres choses une partition de la composition. Lettre de Puzur-Sulgi à Ibbi-Sîn (RCU 21): 558 (= Michalowski 1976, texte O). Edition: Michalowski (1976: 253–68). V. supra à propos de la Lettre d’UrduGu à Sulgi. Lettre de Sîn-iddinam à Ninisina: 559 (= Brisch 2007, texte Ur 1). Edition: Brisch (2007: 75–77, 142–56 et pl. VII–IX). L. 8: Lire m u7 - ªm u7º - G a2 - ªxº (attendu -ni) “son marmonnement”; pour m u7 - m u7 - G “marmonnement”, cf. Cavigneaux (1995: 90–91). — L. 13: La copie a u3 ªx (x)º [x] - ªm uº - k u - ªxº - [x]28. — L. 15: Lire peut-être b a - t a - k e3 (k e3 = k i G2), quoique - t a - fasse di¯culté. Lettre d’Ursaga à un roi (SumLet. B 6): 560. Texte composite: ETCSL 3.3.1. Textes: A: aussi AUWE 23, 114; B: aussi AUWE 23, 115. Nouveaux dupl.: Attinger (1993: 55–56); ajouter Krebernik (1992: 105–7 et pl. 56), IB 1706 (1–ñ). L. 13: m u - u n - ªxº - [. . .] au lieu de n a m - m u - d a - a n - k a r - r e // (560:2u). Enlil dans l’Ekur (Enlil A, den-lil2 sud-ra2-se3 ): 565–566, 567 revers. Edition: Reisman (1969: 41–102). Nouveaux dupl.: Attinger (1993: 35–36); ajouter ISET 1, 195, Ni. 9906 (Zólyomi 2003a: 7–15); Molina/Böck (1997: 36/39), MM 478 (20–28); SLFN 83, 3 N-T 905, 209 (Zólyomi 2003b: 86–91, 98–103). L. 29: ªi r iºki (567 rev. i 2u). — L. 34: s u3 - u d - d a m (567 rev. i 7u). — L. 38: ªi l2 - g e n7º!? (567 rev. i 11u). — L. 81: e n - e n - e - n e (566:9u ([e n] -), 567 rev. ii 5u). — L. 82: s i ªm uº - u n - n [e] - ªe b - x - xº (566:10u). — L. 84: z i b a r - r a - z u au lieu de i g i z i b a r - r a - z u (566:12u). — L. 85: ªi l2 - l aº - z u - s e3? (567 rev. ii 9u). — L. 88: Au lieu de d u8 - a, 566:16u a d [u7? - . . .], 567 rev. ii 12u [d] u7? - a. — L. 91: s i b i2 - s a2 (567 rev. ii 15u). — L. 92: ªm aº - s a - r e (-) s i - i m - m i - i n - t u m3, sandhi pour m a - s a r - r e - e s i m - (566 rev. 3); i m m i - i n - DU (567 rev. ii 16u). — L. 95: s i - b i2 - i n - AK (566 rev. 6). — L. 97: p a r a10 - g e4 (567 rev. ii 21u). — L. 98: s i - g i bib (566 rev. 9), s i - i m - ªg i bºªibº (567 rev. ii 22u)29. — L. 99: [d i r i - g] a - a m3 (566 rev. 10), d i r i - g a - ªa m3º n i2 - b i (567 rev. ii 23u). — L. 101: da - n u n - k e4 - n e (567 rev. ii 25u). — L. 131: s u3 - [g a -

26. Sur la photo, s a4 me semble exclu (Ludwig 1990: 167 n. 438 est plus nuancée). 27. La tranche gauche de 532 = l. 78; pour 531, cf. Bauer (2007: 397), qui contient toutefois quelques petites imprécisions: 98 k u3 d [u10 - . . .]; 99 di n n a n a - k [e4 . . .]; 100 m a - ªxº - [. . .] (attendu m a - n i - i n - g e - e n); 102 n i g^ 2 d [u10 . . .]. 28. Je n’excluerais pas - k u - k [u!? - u n], mais les traces vont mal. 29. g i bib probabl. aussi dans Q (copie ª{E2 - i bº) et SS (Reisman 1969: 52 “- h é - i b?”); g i bib dans Delnero (2006: 2151–52).

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a] m3 (567 rev. iii 3u). — L. 132: [n u - s a2] - e - d e3 (567 rev. iii 3u). — L. 134: [. . . - G a] l2 - m a? (567 rev. iii 5u). — L. 136: [. . .] - ªxº - u4 au lieu de i3 - z u - z u (567 rev. iii 7u). Innana B (L’exaltation d’Innana, nin me sar2-ra): 567 face, 568–569. Edition: Zgoll (1997). Nouveaux dupl.: Molina/Böck (1997: 37/41), MM 1174 revers (1–7); Robson (2005: 109–39; v. aussi Attinger 2006). L. 50, UrF: [m a - r] a - a n - s a r - r e - e s. — L. 52, UrF: [b] i2 - e s - a m3. — L. 53, UrF: copie [G i r] i3 - b a h e2 e m - g e4. — L. 55, UrF: n a m - m a - a b - b e2. — Ll. 61–65, UrF: Restes du dernier signe omis par Zgoll. — L. 101, UrF: ªh e2º - b [i2-. . .]. — L. 102, UrF: b a - ªr a - b i2º - [. . .]. — L. 105, UrF: b a - ªr a - a nº - d a l. — L. 106, UrF: ªb i2 - i nº - [. . .]. — L. 107, UrF: a g a3 z i n a m - e n!? - n a!?. — L. 108: [b] a - a d - r a (569:6u; comp. UrB), a - r a - d u (id.; d u = d u7 ). — L. 111, UrF: k i a G2 ªx (x) - k aº. — L. 112, UrF: a n - u r2 a n - p a n i n (NIN9 ) g a [l - b] i - i m. — L. 113, UrF: ªg u2 G e sº b a -. — L. 114, UrF: n i n (NIN9 ) ªx b aº? - t a - m e!? - e n (très incertain); ªb aº? - t a = b a n d a3 da? — L. 116, UrF: k i - s u - u b ªm a - r aº - [. . .]. — L. 117, UrF: n u - m u - t i l ªd iº. — L. 145: s a3 k u3 di n n a n a - k e4 (568:5u). — L. 146: u4 b a - a n - n a (sic) l a - l a b a - s i3 - s i3 h i - l [i . . .] b a - r a - a n - [. . .] (568:6u; s i3 - s i3 = s u3 - s u3 ). Innana C (in-nin sa3 kur4-ra): 570–571. Edition: Sjöberg (1975). Nouveau dupl.: Attinger (1993: 41); ajouter Michalowski (1998), Kelsey Museum 89404 (158–159). Ll. 122uu–139uu: La face de 570 contient les ll. 122(?)–126, le revers les ll. “132–139”; comme il n’y a pas de lacune entre la dernière ligne de la face et la première ligne du revers, cela implique que les ll. 126– 130 contiennent le début des ll. “131–135” (126 = 126 + “131”, 127 = 127 + “132”, etc.). Dans le détail, le texte reste toutefois di¯cile à reconstruire30. — L. 184: m u - u n - k e3 - n e (571:2). — L. 185: s u8 - g e e s (571:3). — L. 186: n [i2 g a l] k a - t a r - k a - t a r z i DUL - g e n7 m e - m u4 g a b a n i r m e - t i l - l e - n [e]? (571:4). — L. 187: ªb aº - r a - t i l - l e (571:5). — L. 188: Cf. Zgoll (1997: 402 et n. 1110). — Ll. 189–191: Cf. Bauer (2007: 398). Nisaba A: 579–584. Edition: Hallo (1970); à compléter par ETCSL 4.16.131. Nouveaux dupl.: CT 58, 47 (1–9); ISET 1, 198, Ni. 9942 (30–34); AUWE 23, 222 (47). L. 7, C: u s u m g a l u n k e n - e d a l l a e3; u n k e n - e aussi dans A, F et probabl. G. — L. 8: Lire e n i m d u11 - d u11, pas k a - k a d u11. — L. 9: Traduction akk. par it!?(DA)-ªti xº [x] u4-mi-s[a-am] ta-am-ta[lik(?)32] “Elle délibère journellement avec . . .” dans 580:2u–4u. La version sum. d’Ur a k i n i2 s i u4 - d a s a3 k u s2 - u3 (C) // k i [x] s i u4 - ªd aº [. . .] (F); elle semble reposer sur une réinterprétation de k i n i G2 a s e26 - [d] e3 s a3 k u s2 - ªu3º (ainsi A; comp. H (Nippur) [. . . s] e26? - d a s a3 k u s2 - u3 ). Le sens reste peu clair. — L. 10, F: Aussi kur ªi3º h [i] - n u n - t a, comme les autres textes d’Ur (C, 580:5u, 584:1u); Hallo (1970: 124) omet la variante. — L. 11: [Ges]-tu9G e s t u g a l - l a (C), [Ges-tu9]ªG e s t u g a l - l aº (F). — L. 14: a b s i n3 pour a b - s i n2 (584:6u), une graphie très rare à l’époque paléobab. — L. 19, F: [n a m] - ªm iº - i n s u (s u pour s u - u b). — Ll. 35–36, 581:1–7u: 35) [Ges]-tu9G e s t u n u n g a l a m - [m a (?) s a G] - ªeº - e s r i [g7 g a] = [u]z-nu-um ru-ba-tum na-ªxº-[x33 a-na] ªseº-ri-ik-tim sa-ar-ªkuº?-u[m?] / 36) [a b z] u2? m e n g a l e r i d u[ki x] ªh a lº - h a l - [l a] = [. . .] ªx xº [. . .]. — L. 41: e r i d uki (584 rev. 1u; omet le génitif). — L. 45, F: e2

30. Dans 570 rev. 3 = 129 + “134”, lire plutôt ªs a3 k u s2 —º h u g^ - e que s à - ªk ú sº - s è - e (ainsi Bauer 2007: 398). 31. Remarquer que tous les textes à part A ont la séquence “44-47-45-46-48”, à laquelle la préférence devrait en conséquence être donnée. 32. 3e fém. sing.? Pas de place pour -[li-ki]. 33. Certainement une forme de la racine nkl.

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Ges-tu9

G e s t u - k a - k e4. — L. 46, D: g u b - b a - a - [n i]; traduction akk.: [da]-ªlaº-at ªuzº-ni-[im i-na(?)34 s]upe-el-t[i?-x]. — L. 47: Dans 584 rev. 5u, le premier signe est clairement TE (= temen?), pas u n u2 (ainsi ETCSL); TE semble également possible dans les autres duplicats (A, D, E et F). Traduction akk. de D: ªxº [(-x)]-ªli-isº ra-bi-is i-n[a . . .]-ªxº-li. — L. 50, F: emeda. — L. 51, D: [. . .] ªulº-du-u2-si (-si sous la ligne). — L. 52, D: [a m a s] - e. — L. 55: g u2 g u r - g [u r!?] (C) // [g] u2 g u r - g u r (D) // g u2 ªg u r - xº (F): 0 g u r g u r n’est attesté qu’en A, aucun duplicat n’a sûrement g u2 g u r (ainsi ETCSL). Nungal A: 593–594. Edition: Attinger (2003). L. 23: E.NE.KA2 ªs i - i lº? traces; KA2 et DAG sont sporadiquement confondus dès l’époque paléobab. Hymnes aux temples: 597–601. Edition: Sjöberg/Bergmann (1969). Nouveaux dupl.: Attinger (1993: 58). L. 52, F2: Traduction akk. partiellement cassée et obscure. — L. 53, F2: sum. [k u5] - r u - z u, akk. [. . .]-ki i7 - l u2 fi- r ufl - ªg u2º [. . . d]i-in ma-tim. — L. 54, F2: akk. [. . .] sar-ti-im (ªxº) [. . .] wa-pu(-)ªx xº [. . .] ªxº GI ªxº [. . .]. L. 55, F2: sum. [. . .] - ªxº - z u!?(KU) (comp. F1), akk. [. . .] ªxº-RI2? el-lu-tim [. . .] pa-si-su-tim. L. 56, F2: sum. [dn u - n a] m - n i r - r a (comp. F1), akk. [. . . pa]-ti-in den-lil2 sar-ri-im. L. 57, F2: akk. [be]-el-ka ªrubuº-um ma-lik den-lil2 [x] ªxxxº bi-tim ra-bi-im. L. 58, F2: akk. [. . .] ªxº e2-kur ªraº-ab sa-am-x35-ri-iT d n u s k a; l’obscur ªraº-ab sa-am-x-ri-iT dn u s k a traduit k i G2 - g a l dn u s k a. — L. 199: h i - l i n i2 g u r u3 ou h i - l i - i m g u r u3 (599 iu 7u36). — L. 212: i n n i n (MU†3 ) pour i n - n i n9 (599 iiu 2u). — L. 214: u8 l u ªr aº (599 ii 5u). — L. 246: ªh aº - m u n - n a ªSI4? - aº (600:2u37 ) au lieu de h a - m u n - n a RI - a. — L. 248: a n - e s u8 - g a - [x] (599 rev. iu 6u). — L. 265: 601:5u sq. est épigraphiquement di¯cile; la copie a [(x)] ªxº KU4? (s u d!?) GI†GAL? (i r i m m a!?) BA (ªk u3º!?) [. . .] / [. . .] - ªs e3º A[K - a] (lecture partiellement due à C.M.). — L. 266: e [s2? - b a r] (601:7u). — L. 274: [. . . n] u n - n a (599 rev. iiu 3u). — L. 275: [. . . a] b - b a / [. . .] - d a b a (599 rev. iiu 4u); lire en conséquence AB - e (O) a b - e, pas e s3 - e. — Ll. 276–277: 599 rev. iiu 6u–9u a une version apparemment divergente: [. . .] MU†3 / [. . . a - G] e6 / [. . .] u5 [. . .] ªxº / [. . .] ªANº. Hymne à Kes: 602–605. Edition, texte composite: Gragg (1969), Wilcke (2006). L. 26: m u s2 (605:7u). — L. 29–30: - d a pour - t a dans [s a3 - b] i - d a et [a - g a - b i] - d a (605:10u–11u). — L. 40: g u r u n (604:4u; omet le locatif). — L. 85: a - b a au lieu de a - b a - a (603 rev. 3u). — L. 112: ªEN.SIG7.PAP.NUNº.M[E? . . .] (602:10). — L. 113: 602:11 a si au lieu de SU, qui doit donc être lu su (de même Delnero 2006: 2229 et Wilcke 2006: 234), pas k u s. — L. 114: u r u16 - u r u16 pour u18 - r u - u18 r u // (602:12), m u - u n - n i - i b - b [e2 (- e) - n e] (id.). — L. 115: s i a m - k e4!? - e s g u m2 - g a mx (GUM2) (602:13). — L. 11738: s i ªh a - b aº - [. . . - s a2] (602:15). Dialogue entre un père et son ˜ls désobéissant (Edubbâ 2): 619 (= Sjöberg 1973, texte Ur2 + Ur3 ). Edition: Sjöberg (1973). Nouveau dupl.: SLFN 69, 3 N-T 902, 82 (122–28; 133–37). L. 34: s a2 d a - g a - a [b], graphie non-standard de s a2 d u11 - g a - a b. — Ll. 35–38: UET VI/2, 164 + 161 i 1u–4u semble porter le dernier signe des ll. 35–38, ce qui impliquerait que les deux fragments ont été joins de manière imprécise (décalage d’une ligne). Si tel est le cas, lire alors 35–3839: [a - g a - a s n] a m 34. 35. 36. 37. 38. 39.

Pas de place pour ina s¿qim ina. TE serait épigraphiquement possible (C.M.). Bauer (2007:399) lit h i - l i i m - g ù r!. ªd u6? - aº (Bauer 2007: 399) est également envisageable. Cf. Edzard (1974: 111). Pour les ll. 35 sqq., v. en dernier lieu (Volk 2000: 20 avec n. 93) et Wilcke (2002: 20–21).

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b a - a n - ªn aº - g e4 - ªg e4º - [d] e3 / [g i4 - m e - a s - z u - n e] ªs uº n [a m? - . . . - KAR2].KAR2? - ªxº / [t u k u m - b i a l - G e n - n e] - e n / [e n - n a - m e - s e3 a l] - d u. — L. 77: [. . . e] g i r g u d - d a - k a g u b - b a!? b a - r [a - r a d u11]. — L. 81: ªk i G2? - x a lº - AK - d e3. L’homme et son dieu: 621–622. Texte composite: ETCSL 5.2.4. L. 71: s a3 - G a2 (621 ii 3u). — L. 72: d u m u i r2 †E†4.ª†E†4º - g e [n7] (621 ii 4u). — L. 74: e2 i m - m [a - . . . t u5(?)], graphie non-standard pour a (e4!) t u5 (621 ii 6u). — L. 75: n i G2 - g e17 - g e17 - g a - b i (621 ii 7u). — L. 77: G a2 - ªl aº l a - b [a -. . .] (621 ii 9u). — L. 78: g u2 - d a m u - [. . .] (621 ii 10u). — L. 7940: a2 (DA) ªm uº [. . . - t a l2 - t a l2] (621 ii 11u); u r2 (au lieu de a2/DA) n’est pas attesté sûrement dans les textes publiés. — L. 115: G u r u s - z u (622:3u). — L. 118–119: G u r u s - m e - e n (622:6u–7u). — L. 123: e n i m aa r2 - ªxº [. . .] au lieu de enim a - r a - z u - a (622:11u). — L. 124: Dans 622:12u, le premier signe n’est pas ªs u d u3º, le second probabl. pas ªk u3º; d i G i r - r [e - . . .] (622:12u). Houe araire: 625–626. Edition: Civil (1965). Nouveaux dupl.: Attinger (1993: 38–39); ajouter AUWE 23, 116 (28–46); TIM 9, 12 (Zólyomi 2003b: 53–64). Pour les textes d’Ur, v. en général Bauer (2007: 399); autres variantes: L. 77: i m - m a - g u b - b e2 - e n (626:6u). — L. 78: [t u m u] - m e r - e (626:7u; de même M et Auu). — L. 86: m a - r a - r a - d u8 - [. . .] (625:6u). — L. 90: a - s a3 ªk i G2º (pas n i G2) AK (625:10u). — L. 112: d a l - l a (625 rev. 14; de même S et U). — L. 113: a u m - t a - s u [h(10) - . . .] (625 rev. 15). — L. 114: u m - t a - AK - e - [e n] (625 rev. 16). — L. 115: ªm u - n i i b2º - s i12 - s [i12 (- x)] (625 rev. 17). — L. 124: i m i3 - l u341- m e - e n s e g12 i3 - d u8 - e n (626 rev. 5u; d u8 = d u3 ) “Je brasse l’argile, j’enfonce42 des briques”. — L. 125: u s8 “fondement” au lieu de u s (626 rev. 6u). Oiseau poisson: 627–628. Texte composite: ETCSL 5.3.5. L. 85: m u - ªu nº - n a - n i - ªi bº - g e4 - g e4 (62743:24); [m u (- u n)] - n a - n i - ªi b2º - g e4 - g [e4] (628:3u). — L. 87: [n] a m - n u - z u - a g u3 m u - u [n - x] - ªxº - IM44 n i2 - z u - u m a [d l i - b i2] - i n - [. . .] (627:27). — Ll. 88–90: 628:6u–8u a une version divergente: [. . .] g a - k a - b i (pour ka-ka-bi?) s a3 - g a l - g a l u4 s u2 - s u2 [(. . .)]45 / [. . .] z i m u - e - d a - a n - i r - A? - ªxº [(. . .)]46 (= 90) / [. . .] - l a d a l - d a l - ªxº G a2 - G a2 [(. . .)]47. ISET 2, 72, Ni. 9673 rev.! 4u–5u a une version qui n’est pas sans analogie: [. . .] ªd a lº - d a l - e - z u a - n a - a m3 (= 47) / [. . .] ªxº - b i? s a3 - g a l u4 s u2 - u s - e (comp. 123). — L. 91: m u s e n - e n a m - m a h - G u10 n u - z u e g i r - G a2 n u z u k u m2 - z u k u m2 b a r!?48- m e? ªe n3º? l i - [. . .] (627:25); [. . .] - z u k u m2 - z u k u m2 (628:9u). — L. 92: ªs iº!? g a k a l a - g a - G u10 n u - e - d a - ªa nº - z u (627:26). — L. 95: [G] e26 - e k u6 - e, t e s2 - b i G a r - ªr aº - [. . .] (627:28). — L. 96: e2 - k u r - r [a z a (?)49- g] i n2? (627:29; [z a (?) - g] i n2 = z a - g i n3 ). — L. 97: [d]e z i n a m2 m a!? (BA) - g e n7, b a - G a l2 - m e - e n (627 rev. 1). — L. 99: m u - u n - d a - h u l2 - ªl eº (627 rev. 2). — L. 100: m u 40. Cf. Jaques (2006: 22). 41. Ici clairement l u3, pas p a r a10; à la l. 13, C a l u3, Auu plutôt p a r a10 (collation de E. Fluckiger-Hawker), les duplicats non publiés p a r a10 (Civil 1965: 59, 66 et 100). Comme le remarque Civil (p. 100), un verbe b a r a2 (= p a r a10) est sinon inconnu (pour i3 - g^ e s p a r a10 - g a, v. Attinger 2005: 59). 42. Ou “je fais”, quoique ce ne soit pas un sens usuel de du3. 43. Séquence 85, 91–92, 86–87, 95–97, 99, 100–102; UET VI/40 a également été pris en considération pour ces lignes. 44. Attendu - r a - a h; IM par anticipation? 45. Comp. la seconde moitié de la l. 123: k a - k a - b i n u - g u7 s a3 - g a l u4 s u2 - s u2. 46. Jaques (2006: 227) lit - i r - r e! - [e s]. 47. Comp. la l. 47: g u3 d e2 - d e2 - z u k i - s e - e r n u - t u k u d a l - d a l - z u a - n a - a m3. 48. Ecrit sur érasure? 49. Pas de place sur la copie.

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u n - d i [m2 (- x)] - m a2 - z i k u r4 - z u g a!? (BI) - r i - i [b] - ªz iº pour m u - e / u n - d i m2 - m a - z a k u r4 - r a - z u g a - r i - i b - z u (627 rev. 3). — L. 101: ªs u - z uº - a g a - r i - i b - z [i] (627 rev. 4; z i = s i). — L. 102: ªs a2º i m k e3 - ªk e3º - d e3 au lieu de s a2 i m - s i3 - s i3 - g e (627 rev. 5). — L. 127: [s u u s2 - a m u] - u n - g i d2 “Tu! as tendu une main (couverte) de sang”; g i d2 (pas sud) aussi dans ISET 2, 75, Ni. 9803 rev. 16. Dialogue entre deux scribes (Dialogue 1): 629–631 (pas fait). Le revers de 629 porte les traces d’un colophon, à lire probablement [a - r a2 2 - k] a m ªs i dº!? - [b i x (G a2 - n u g a - n a g a - a b - s a2 - s a2 - e n)] v.s. (pour les restitutions, comp. le colophon d’UET VI/2, 156); ce serait la seconde tablette d’une “édition” en trois tablettes. Hymne à la houe: 643, 644 + 727 (Delnero 2006: 1968), 64550, 788 (Delnero 2006: 1968). Texte composite: ETCSL 5.5.4. L. 79: ªGesºªa lº - e u3 ªi7 - xº [. . .] (644:1u). — L. 80: k a n4 k i E2.NUN - n a - k a (644:2u). — L. 82: a m3 - s [e3?] au lieu de a n - t a (644:4u); comp. a m3 - t a en U. — L. 83: ªa l - t i - r i2 - k iºmusen (644:5u + 727:1u). — L. 87: [m a - a] l - t u m - ªa m3º ou [m a - a l - l] a - t u m - ªa m3º (727:5u). — L. 97: Gesa l - n a m a2 n a m - G u [r u s - . . .] (788 iu 5u), fautif pour Gesa l - a m3 a2 n a m - G u r u s - a - k a m //. Les instructions de †uruppag: 646–648 (= Alster 2005, textes Ur4-Ur6). Edition: Alster (2005: 31–220 et pl. 1–15, 17–29 et 60–69). L. 152, Ur4: [e n i] m d [u11 - . . . n] a - ªt aº - b a l a - e. L. 153, Ur4: ªd u m u xº [. . .]. L. 178, Ur4: b [i2] - i [n] ªe11º - d e3. L. 181, Ur4: l u g a l - b i - i [r a m] a r. L. 185, Ur4: ªa2 s uº i m - d u7 - d u7. L. 189, Ur4: b a - a m3 DAB5 (au lieu de b a - a n - DAB5 ); - a m3 - pourrait plaider contre la lecture d a b5 de KU. L. 197, Ur5: [. . . g] e!? s [u . . .] ªxº [. . .]. L. 208, Ur5: pas - [k] a, peut-être - [k] e4!?. L. 211, Ur551: [. . . - a] m3!? g a d a h u G (KU) G a2 - ªa m3º. L. 245, Ur6: copie Alster GIN2 (pas d u5). L. 270, Ur6: copie Alster a b - b a - [s] e3?. L. 275, Ur6: Le signe précédant - g a n’est pas TE. Remarques supplémentaires 450: V. Lamentation sur Ur. 456: V. Descente d’Innana aux Enfers. 498–499: Edités dans Ludwig 2006. 525: Isbi-Erra H (Michalowski 2005: 201 et n. 2 sq.). 534: V. Brisch (2007: 69 et 267). 552: V. Lamentation sur Sumer et Ur. 606: Cf. Römer (2007: 181–82). 655, 715: V. Ninurta et la tortue. 726: Cf. n. 50. 727: V. Hymne à la houe. 741: V. Malédiction d’Agadé. 744: V. Innana et Ebih. 780: V. Sulgi B. 788: V. Hymne à la houe. 919: Edité dans Frahm (2006).

50. D’après Delnero (2006: 1968) + 726 (103–106), mais, la ligne 106 mise à part, les traces conviennent mal. 51. Séquence 209-211-210.

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Les auteurs d’UET VI/3 méritent toute notre reconnaissance pour la publication très soignée de ce volume de textes, qui rendra certainement d’inestimables services dans l’avenir. Références Al-Fouadi, A. H. A. 1969 Enki’s Journey to Nippur: The Journeys of the Gods. Ph.D. Diss., University of Pennsylvania. Al-Rawi, F. N. H. 1995 Tablets from the Sippar Library IV. Lugale. Iraq 57: 199–223. Alster, B. 1993 Some Ur 3 Literary Texts and Other Sumerian Texts in Yale and Philadelphia. ASJ 15: 1–10. 1996 Inanna Repenting: The Conclusion of Inanna’s Descent. ASJ 18: 1–18. 2005 Wisdom of Ancient Sumer. Bethesda, MD: CDL. 2006 Ninurta and the Turtle: On parodia sacra in Sumerian Literature. Pp. 13–36 in Approaches to Sumerian Literature: Studies in Honour of Stip (H.L.J. Vanstiphout), eds. P. Michalowski and N. Veldhuis. CM 35. Leiden: Brill. Attinger, P. 1993 Eléments de linguistique sumérienne. La construction de du11/e/di “dire”. OBO Sonderband. Fribourg: Editions Universitaires; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht. 1998 Inana et Ebih. ZA 88: 164–95. 2003 L’Hymne à Nungal. Pp. 15–34 in Literature, Politik und Recht in Mesopotamien. Festschrift für Claus Wilcke, eds. W. Sallaberger, K. Volk und A. Zgoll. Orientalia Biblica et Christiana 14. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz. 2005 A propos de AK “faire” (I). ZA 95: 46–64. 2006 A propos d’un nouveau duplicat de Ninmesara. NABU 2006/17. 2007 Addenda et corrigenda à Attinger dans Mittermayer 2006. NABU 2007/37. Bauer, J. 2007 Mosaiksteinchen zur sumerischen Literatur. Or 76: 393–403 (compte rendu d’UET VI/3). Brisch, N. M. 2007 Tradition and the Poetics of Innovation: Sumerian Court Literature of the Larsa Dynasty (c. 2003– 1763 BCE). AOAT 339. Münster: Ugarit-Verlag. Cavigneaux, A. 1995 La Pariade du Scorpion dans les Formules Magiques Sumériennes. Textes de Tell Haddad V. ASJ 17: 75–99. Cavigneaux, A. et Al-Rawi, F. 2000 La ñ de Gilgames, Enkidu et les Enfers d’après les manuscrits d’Ur et de Meturan. Iraq 62: 1–19. Civil, M. 1965 Le débat sumérien entre la houe et l’araire. Edition critique, traduction et commentaire. Doctorat de 3e cycle. Paris: non publié. Cooper, J. S. 1983 The Curse of Agade. Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins University Press. Delnero, P. 2006 Variation in Sumerian Literary Compositions: A Case Study Based on the Decad. Ph.D. Diss., University of Pennsylvania. Dijk, J. van 1983 LUGAL UD ME-LÁM-bi NIR-Gfl ÁL [. . .], Vols. I–II. Leiden: Brill. Edzard, D. O. 1974 Zur sumerischen Hymne auf das Heiligtum Kes. Or 43: 103–13. 1990 Gilgames und Huwawa A. I. Teil. ZA 80: 165–203. 1991 Gilgames und Huwawa A. II. Teil. ZA 81: 165–233. Ferrara, A. J. 2006 The Size and Versions of Inanna’s Descent. Pp. 127–38 in If a Man Builds a Joyful House: Assyriological Studies in Honor of Erle Verdun Leichty, ed. A. K. Guinan et al. CM 31. Leiden: Brill. Frahm, E. 2006 †ulgi Sieger über Assur und die Skythen? NABU 2006/25.

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Frayne, D. R. 1998 New Light on the Reign of Isme-Dagan. ZA 88: 6–44. George, A. R. 2003 The Babylonian Gilgamesh Epic [. . .] I–II. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Gragg, G. B. 1969 The Kes Temple Hymn. TCS 3. Locust Valley, NY: Augustin. Green, M. W. 1984 The Uruk Lament. JAOS 104: 253–79. Hallo, W. W. 1970 The Cultic Setting of Sumerian Poetry. Pp. 116–34 in Actes de la XVIIe Rencontre Assyriologique Internationale, Université Libre de Bruxelles, 30 juin–4 juillet 1969, ed. A. Finet. Ham-sur-Heure: Comité belge de recherches en Mésopotamie. Jacobsen, T., and Alster, B. 2000 Ningiszida’s Boat-Ride to Hades. Pp. 315–44 in Wisdom, Gods and Literature: Studies in Assyriology in Honour of W. G. Lambert, eds. A. R. George and I. L. Finkel. Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns. Jaques, M. 2004 Inanna et Ebih: Nouveaux textes et remarques sur le vocabulaire du combat et de la victoire. ZA 94: 202–25. 2006 Le vocabulaire des sentiments dans les textes sumériens. Recherche sur le lexique sumérien et akkadien. AOAT 332. Münster: Ugarit-Verlag. Krebernik, M. 1992 Die Textfunde der 9. Kampagne (1986). Pp. 102–44 in Isin — Isan Bahrÿyat IV. Die Ergebnisse der Ausgrabungen 1986–1989, ed. B. Hrouda. ABAW NF 105. München: Bayerische Akademie der Wissenschaften. Ludwig, M.-C. 1990 Untersuchungen zu den Hymnen des Isme-Dagan von Isin. Santag 2. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz. 2006 “Enki in Nippur”: Ein bislang unidenti˜ziertes, mythologisches Fragment. JCS 58: 27–38. Michalowski, P. 1976 The Royal Correspondence of Ur. Ph.D. Diss., Yale University. 1989 The Lamentation over the Destruction of Sumer and Ur. MC 1. Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns. 1998 Literature as a Source of Lexical Inspiration: Some Notes on a Hymn to the Goddess Inana. Pp. 65–73 in Written on Clay and Stone: Ancient Near Eastern Studies Presented to Krystyna Szarzynska on the Occasion of Her 80th Birthday. Warsaw: Agade. 2005 Literary Works from the Court of King Ishbi-Erra of Isin. Pp. 199–212 in “An Experienced Scribe Who Neglects Nothing”: Ancient Near Eastern Studies in Honor of Jacob Klein, eds. Y. Sefati et al. Bethesda, MD: CDL. Mittermayer, C. 2006 Altbabylonische Zeichenliste der sumerisch-literarischen Texte. OBO Sonderband. Fribourg: Editions Universitaires; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht. 2007 Enmerkara und der Herr von Arata. Inauguraldissertation, Universität Bern. Molina, M. y Böck, B. 1997 Textos y fragmentos literarios sumerios. AuOr 15: 33–41. Reisman, D. D. 1969 Two Neo-Sumerian Royal Hymns [. . .]. Ph.D. Diss., University of Pennsylvania. Robson, E. 2005 A New Manuscript of Ninmesara (ETCSL 4.07.02), Lines 109–139. Or 74: 382–88. Römer, W. H. P. 2004 Die Klage über die Zerstörung von Ur. AOAT 309. Münster: Ugarit-Verlag. 2007 Compte rendu d’UET VI/3. BiOr 64: 180–82. Sallaberger, W. 1993 Der kultische Kalender der Ur III-Zeit 1–2. UAVA 7/1–2. Berlin: de Gruyter. Shaêr, A. 1963 Sumerian Sources of Tablet XII of the Epic of Gilgames. Ph.D. Diss., University of Pennsylvania. Sjöberg, Å. W. 1973 Der Vater und sein missratener Sohn. JCS 25: 105–67. 1975 in-nin sà-gur4-ra. A Hymn to the Goddess Inanna by the en-Priestess Enheduanna. ZA 65: 161–253.

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Sjöberg, Å. W., and Bergmann, E. 1969 The Collection of the Sumerian Temple Hymns. TCS 3. Locust Valley, NY: J.J. Augustin. Sladek, W. R. 1974 Inanna’s Descent to the Netherworld. Ph.D. Diss., The Johns Hopkins University. Sommerfeld, W. 1992 Die Inschriftenfunde der 10. und 11. Kampagne (1988 und 1989). Pp. 144–64 Isin — Isan Bahrÿyat IV. Die Ergebnisse der Ausgrabungen 1986–1989, ed. B. Hrouda. ABAW NF 105. München: Verlag der Bayerischen Akademie der Wissenschaften. Veldhuis, N. 2000 Kassite Exercises: Literary and Lexical Extracts. JCS 52: 67–94. Volk, K. 2000 Edubbaåa und Edubbaåa-Literatur: Rätsel und Lösungen. ZA 90: 1–30. Waetzoldt, H. 2005 Tempelterrassen und Ziqqurate nach der sumerischen Überlieferung. Pp. 322–42 in “An Experienced Scribe Who Neglects Nothing”: Ancient Near Eastern Studies in Honor of Jacob Klein, eds. Y. Sefati et al. Bethesda, MD: CDL. Wilcke, C. 2002 Kon˘ikte und ihre Bewältigung in Elternhaus und Schule im Alten Orient. Pp. 10–31 in Schau auf die Kleinen . . . Das Kind in Religion, Kirche und Gesellschaft, ed. R. Lux. Leipzig: Evangelische Verlagsanstalt. 2006 Die Hymne auf das Heiligtum Kes. Zu Struktur und “Gattung” einer altsumerischen Dichtung und zu ihrer Literaturtheorie. Pp. 201–37 in Approaches to Sumerian Literature: Studies in Honour of Stip (H.L.J. Vanstiphout), eds. P. Michalowski and N. Veldhuis. CM 35. Leiden: Brill. Zgoll, A. 1997 Der Rechtsfall der En-hedu-Ana im Lied nin-me-sara. AOAT 246. Münster: Ugarit-Verlag. Zólyomi, G. 2000 Amar-Suena and Enki’s Temple. NABU 2000/51. 2003a A New Manuscript of “Enlil in the Ekur (Enlil A).” NABU 2003/58. 2003b Five Newly Identi˜ed Literary Fragments from Various Publications. NABU 2003/90. 2006 Four Notes on Fragments Published in the Third Volume of UET 6. NABU 2006/65.

Hayim Tadmor, The Inscriptions of Tiglath-Pileser III, King of Assyria. Critical Edition, with Introductions, Translations and Commentary. Second Printing with addenda et corrigenda, Jerusalem: The Israel Academy of Sciences and Humanities, 2007. Pp. xv + 318 + 60 plates + 1 acetate sheet. Reviewed by Karen Radner, University College London. In the ˜rst half of the eighth century BC, Assyria found itself in a precarious situation. With the rise of Urartu in eastern Anatolia, Assyrian supremacy was no longer automatically accepted by its neighbors, especially the smaller kingdoms of Syria and Anatolia. The treaties binding these states to Assyria and guaranteeing their tribute for the Assyrian treasury were vulnerable as long as swearing allegiance to Urartu instead was a realistic alternative. At that time, Urartu’s army was certainly Assyria’s equal and in 754 BC, just when Assur-nerari V had ascended to the Assyrian throne, Sarduri II, king of Urartu, defeated the Assyrian army in Northern Syria. This glorious achievement, celebrated in Sarduri’s inscriptions, was quite clearly a disaster for Assyria: for the next years, the troops did not leave the kingdom’s borders and only in 749 BC was a new expedition mounted—not against Urartu but instead to the border with Babylonia where Assyrian interests were now endangered as well. In 746 BC, a rebellion against Assur-nerari V took place in the main royal residence Kalhu and in the next year the man later known as Tiglath-pileser III seized the Assyrian throne. He had certainly supported the revolt, as had the governors of Assur and Kalhu who were among the very few high o¯cials

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Sjöberg, Å. W., and Bergmann, E. 1969 The Collection of the Sumerian Temple Hymns. TCS 3. Locust Valley, NY: J.J. Augustin. Sladek, W. R. 1974 Inanna’s Descent to the Netherworld. Ph.D. Diss., The Johns Hopkins University. Sommerfeld, W. 1992 Die Inschriftenfunde der 10. und 11. Kampagne (1988 und 1989). Pp. 144–64 Isin — Isan Bahrÿyat IV. Die Ergebnisse der Ausgrabungen 1986–1989, ed. B. Hrouda. ABAW NF 105. München: Verlag der Bayerischen Akademie der Wissenschaften. Veldhuis, N. 2000 Kassite Exercises: Literary and Lexical Extracts. JCS 52: 67–94. Volk, K. 2000 Edubbaåa und Edubbaåa-Literatur: Rätsel und Lösungen. ZA 90: 1–30. Waetzoldt, H. 2005 Tempelterrassen und Ziqqurate nach der sumerischen Überlieferung. Pp. 322–42 in “An Experienced Scribe Who Neglects Nothing”: Ancient Near Eastern Studies in Honor of Jacob Klein, eds. Y. Sefati et al. Bethesda, MD: CDL. Wilcke, C. 2002 Kon˘ikte und ihre Bewältigung in Elternhaus und Schule im Alten Orient. Pp. 10–31 in Schau auf die Kleinen . . . Das Kind in Religion, Kirche und Gesellschaft, ed. R. Lux. Leipzig: Evangelische Verlagsanstalt. 2006 Die Hymne auf das Heiligtum Kes. Zu Struktur und “Gattung” einer altsumerischen Dichtung und zu ihrer Literaturtheorie. Pp. 201–37 in Approaches to Sumerian Literature: Studies in Honour of Stip (H.L.J. Vanstiphout), eds. P. Michalowski and N. Veldhuis. CM 35. Leiden: Brill. Zgoll, A. 1997 Der Rechtsfall der En-hedu-Ana im Lied nin-me-sara. AOAT 246. Münster: Ugarit-Verlag. Zólyomi, G. 2000 Amar-Suena and Enki’s Temple. NABU 2000/51. 2003a A New Manuscript of “Enlil in the Ekur (Enlil A).” NABU 2003/58. 2003b Five Newly Identi˜ed Literary Fragments from Various Publications. NABU 2003/90. 2006 Four Notes on Fragments Published in the Third Volume of UET 6. NABU 2006/65.

Hayim Tadmor, The Inscriptions of Tiglath-Pileser III, King of Assyria. Critical Edition, with Introductions, Translations and Commentary. Second Printing with addenda et corrigenda, Jerusalem: The Israel Academy of Sciences and Humanities, 2007. Pp. xv + 318 + 60 plates + 1 acetate sheet. Reviewed by Karen Radner, University College London. In the ˜rst half of the eighth century BC, Assyria found itself in a precarious situation. With the rise of Urartu in eastern Anatolia, Assyrian supremacy was no longer automatically accepted by its neighbors, especially the smaller kingdoms of Syria and Anatolia. The treaties binding these states to Assyria and guaranteeing their tribute for the Assyrian treasury were vulnerable as long as swearing allegiance to Urartu instead was a realistic alternative. At that time, Urartu’s army was certainly Assyria’s equal and in 754 BC, just when Assur-nerari V had ascended to the Assyrian throne, Sarduri II, king of Urartu, defeated the Assyrian army in Northern Syria. This glorious achievement, celebrated in Sarduri’s inscriptions, was quite clearly a disaster for Assyria: for the next years, the troops did not leave the kingdom’s borders and only in 749 BC was a new expedition mounted—not against Urartu but instead to the border with Babylonia where Assyrian interests were now endangered as well. In 746 BC, a rebellion against Assur-nerari V took place in the main royal residence Kalhu and in the next year the man later known as Tiglath-pileser III seized the Assyrian throne. He had certainly supported the revolt, as had the governors of Assur and Kalhu who were among the very few high o¯cials

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remaining in power after the coup. Many other governors and magnates were subsequently replaced, probably having been executed when Tiglath-pileser’s faction prevailed against those who remained loyal to Assur-nerari, Tiglath-pileser’s father according to the Assyrian Kinglist but never mentioned in this capacity in his successor’s inscriptions. Having established himself on the Assyrian throne, Tiglath-pileser ˜rst took the army to the south and decided the situation at the Babylonian frontier in his favor. He founded two new provinces, situated along the important trade route that we know as the Silk Route: Bit-Hamban, at the head waters of the Diyala River, and Parsua, further to the east in the Zagros mountains, were created in 744 BC. The news from Assyria, indicating a dramatic shift in the ailing state’s fortunes, brought the Urartian army, still under the command of Sarduri II, to the Euphrates border and in 743 BC Assyria and Urartu met once again in battle in Arpad. This time, the Assyrian troops were victorious and pursued the Urartian army all the way back to the capital Tuspa.1 It can be argued that it was the decade-long period of Assyrian vulnerability and impotence—during which it was eclipsed and threatened by Urartu and having lost its hold over Syria and Babylonia— that caused Tiglath-pileser to initiate the military campaigns in the West that marked the beginning of Assyria’s expansion to the Mediterranean coast, deep into Anatolia and the Zagros mountain range and to the Persian Gulf.2 Only now did Assyria outgrow its traditional boundaries and transform itself into what we today call the Assyrian Empire. After defeating the Urartian troops in Arpad, Tiglath-pileser decided to discipline this kingdom that had provided Urartu with access to Syria and to Assyria’s frontier. His army waged war in Arpad for three years until all resistance was crushed in 740 BC; Arpad’s forces had been assisted not only by the Urartian army but also the troops of all its Syrian neighbors. When Arpad was ultimately defeated, the Assyrian army did not leave as in previous centuries: instead, two Assyrian provinces were established, and the country was transformed into a permanent part of Assyria. The dogged resistance that met the Assyrians in Arpad meant that the war could not end if the new Assyrian holdings were to be protected; although the alliance against Assyria had been driven out of Arpad, it remained in existence and was a powerful adversary. Next in line was therefore Arpad’s close ally and neighbor to the west, the in˘uential kingdom of Hamath on the Orontes River. Hamath’s troops were ˜rst defeated in 738 BC, and its northwestern parts, reaching the Mediterranean Sea, were turned into Assyrian provinces. During this same campaign, Hamath’s northern neighbor on the Mediterranean coast, the Neo-Hittite kingdom of Unqu, was conquered and incorporated into Assyria. But the state of Hamath did not collapse and the ˜ght for its independence continued, assisted by its allies Damascus and Israel. This war was decided in Assyria’s favor only six years later, in 732 BC, when the troops of Hamath and Damascus were defeated, the countries invaded and permanently annexed; at the same time, Israel was subjugated and the northern half of the kingdom was integrated as the Assyrian province of Megiddo. During the reign of Tiglath-pileser III, the Assyrian army was transformed into a professional army,3 with specialized soldiers largely replacing the conscripts who provided military service during the summer months when the agricultural calendar permitted the absence of the farm workers. Soldiers

1. On the con˘ict between Assyria and Urartu see H. Tadmor, “Assyria at the Gates of Tushpa,” in Treasures on Camels’ Humps: Historical and Literary Studies from the Ancient Near East Presented to Israel Ephåal, eds. M. Cogan and D. Kahn ( Jerusalem: Magnes, 2008), 266–73. 2. The most recent summary of these is by S. Yamada, “Qurdi-Assur-lamur: His Letters and Career,” in Cogan and Kahn, Treasures on Camels’ Humps, 297–99. 3. On this topic see A. Fuchs, “War das Neuassyrische Reich ein Militärstaat?,” in Krieg – Gesellschaft – Institutionen: Beiträge zu einer vergleichenden Kriegsgeschichte, eds. B. Meißner et al. (Berlin: Akademie, 2005), 51–55 and Y. Kaplan, “Recruitment of Foreign Soldiers into the Neo-Assyrian Army during the reign of Tiglath-pileser III,” in Cogan and Kahn Treasures on Camels’ Humps, 135–52.

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from the defeated kingdoms of Arpad, Unqu, Hamath, Damascus, and Israel swelled the ranks of the Assyrian army, supplemented by mercenaries from Anatolia, the Zagros mountains and Babylonia where the Assyrian king had been active from the beginning of his reign onwards. He came to be the arch rival of Mukin-zeri, chief of the tribe of Bit-Amukani, who attempted to unite the politically fragmented region under his leadership and assumed the kingship of Babylon in 731 BC. Tiglath-pileser saw this as a provocation and a challenge of Assyria’s primacy in the region: he repeatedly led the Assyrian army against Mukin-zeri and ultimately defeated him, taking the crown of Babylon for himself in 729 BC. For the remainder of his reign, Tiglath-pileser ruled as the king of both Assyria and Babylon. Most of the income provided by Tiglath-pileser’s conquests would appear to have been invested in the establishment of a professional army and of the new provinces. He certainly did not spend his revenue conspiciously in the Assyrian heartland where he apparently contented himself with building only a new palace in Kalhu, the so-called Central Palace: the decorated stone slabs that served as the wainscoting for the state quarters of this building provide us with Tiglath-pileser’s accounts of his deeds, yet, since they were dismantled in the 670s in order to be recycled for an (unñished) building project of his successor Esarhaddon, assembling the so-called Nimrud Annals has proven to be a di¯cult task for modern Assyriologists. The ˜rst to genuinely succeed in this regard, after decades of painstaking research, was Hayim Tadmor, the leading twentieth-century expert on Tiglath-pileser’s written legacy. The ˜rst edition of the book under review appeared in 1994 and was duly celebrated as the deñitive edition of the inscriptions of Tiglath-pileser III, including the Nimrud Annals. A historical narrative like the one attempted here would be impossible without Tadmor’s publication, the contents of which, together with Tiglath-pileser’s state correspondence4 and the relevant sections in the Assyrian Eponym Chronicles,5 constitute the key primary source material for this king’s age. Tadmor’s 1994 book was universally well received and feted by all its reviewers.6 The corrections to the transliterations and translations suggested in some of these reviews, and privately by R. Borger and M. Cogan, have been collected by Tadmor’s former pupil Shigeo Yamada and are the only addition (pp. 317–18) to this otherwise unchanged reprint of the 1994 edition: as Jacob Klein explains in his short preface to the second printing (p. x), the list was checked and approved by Tadmor himself who sadly passed away in 2005. No additional texts have been included in the second printing, but to my knowledge, only one further inscription of Tiglath-pileser III has since been recognized as such, incised on the fragment of a royal statue found in room a/4 of the Ninurta temple at Kalhu (and before misclassi˜ed as belonging to Shalmaneser III).7 It is a testament to the quality of Tadmor’s original publication that the list of addenda et corrigenda is as short as it is. It could be argued that it may have been in the interest of the readers had these corrections, as well as those already oêred in the ˜rst printing’s list of addenda et corrigenda (pp. 316– 17), been integrated into the book itself. However, to communicate the corrections in the form of a concise

4. Published by H. W. F. Saggs, The Nimrud Letters, 1952, CTN 5 (London: British School of Archaeology in Iraq, 2001). 5. Last edited by A. Millard, The Eponyms of the Assyrian Empire, 910–612 BC, SAAS 2 (Helsinki: The Neo-Assyrian Text Corpus Project, 1994). 6. T. Boiy, OLP 29 (1998) 274–75; E. Cancik-Kirschbaum, OLZ 95 (2000) 377–86; K. J. Cathcart, Booklist of the Society of Old Testament Studies 1996, 127; W. Chrostowski, Collectanea Theologica 69 (1999) 199–203; S. Dalley, PEQ 129 (1997) 89; E. Frahm, AfO 44/45 (1997/98) 399–404; G. Frame, BCSMS 35 (2000) 93–95; A. R. George, BSOAS 60 (1997) 124–25; A. K. Grayson, JAOS 118 (1998) 280–81; L. K. Handy, JBL 116 (1997) 157–58; R. Jas, BiOr 55 (1998) 192–94; F. Joannès, Transeuphratène 13 (1997) 220–22; A. Millard, BASOR 308 (1997) 102–4; N. Naåaman, Tel Aviv 22 (1995) 268–78; B. Oded, IEJ 47 (1997) 104–10; J. Pecírcová, ArOr 64 (1996) 283–84; W. Schramm, Or 68 (1999) 169–71; H. U. Steymans, RB 104 (1997) 299–301; M. P. Streck, ZA 89 (1999) 152–54. 7. For an edition of ND 5571 = IM 60497B see A. Fuchs, “Ein Inschriftenfragment Tiglatpilesers III.,” in Hayim and Miriam Tadmor Volume, eds. A. Ben-Tor, I. Ephåal and P. Machinist. Eretz-Israel 27 ( Jerusalem: Israel Eploration Society in Cooperation with the Hebrew University of Jerusalem, Israel Museum, 2003), 49*–54*. For the provenance of this fragmentary royal statue see J. E. Reade, “The Ziggurat and Temples of Nimrud,” Iraq 62 (2002) 178.

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list has the advantage that the 1994 and 2007 editions can be used side by side and that those already in possession of a copy of the ˜rst printing will not feel the pressing need to replace it with the new edition as the corrections can easily enough be added. Like the ˜rst printing, which sold out quickly, the second printing is, at $80, very reasonably priced, and fourteen years after its original publication, this beautifully produced book has lost none of its value. It is still the only comprehensive edition of Tiglath-pileser’s Nimrud annals and his other inscriptions and no one working on the Neo-Assyrian Empire or the eighth century BC can aôrd to ignore it.

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