Mesmerising
… painted wooden horse-toy on wheels, Egypt, Akhmim,
first-third century AD. Photograph: © The Trustees of the
British Museum
Egypt is an incomparable preserver of lost
time: a place where the past never dies. We think of ancient
Egypt as a land of mummies and pyramids. But the same dry earth
that preserved the pharaohs' graves also miraculously
preserved manuscripts, clothes, shoes and just about everything
else. The oldest books in the world – on papyrus and parchment
– come from Egypt, including texts of ancient Greek plays
found on a rubbish dump at Oxyrhynchus. In this moving,
absorbing exhibition, those precious documents mingle with
everyday relics: a child's wooden pull-along toy from Roman
times beside a perfectly preserved tunic. These are
mesmerisingly lifelike portraits of the ancient dead.
Yet
what is most uncannily preserved is the fabric of faith
itself. This show has a staggeringly important theme – nothing
less than the emergence of monotheism out of polytheism, or how
people went from idolising a pantheon of gods to worshipping
one.
Everyday
relics … child's tunic, wool, Egypt, fifth–sixth century AD.
Photograph: © Musée du Louvre, Dist RMN-Grand Palais/Georges
Poncet
Egypt's gallery of pagan gods was particularly
extravagant. The Roman empire, when it absorbed Egypt after the
Battle of Actium in 31BC, became entranced by exotic deities
such as Isis and Serapis. There's a bronze statuette here of a
Roman emperor with the head of the jackal god Anubis. A spooky
marble bust of the god Serapis gazes blindly, trancelike, with a
lily-shaped vase balanced on his head.
Among these strange gods there was also one god – Jehovah. Jews
had a long history in Egypt, according to the Bible, but as
Simon Schama points out in his book The Story of the Jews their
real, tangible history is first documented by those magically
preserved Egyptian papyri – such as a letter exhibited here from
the Roman emperor Claudius, in which he tells locals not to
worship him as a god and instructs them to tolerate the Jews.
Visually,
Jewish history makes a lot less impact, however, than the new
religion that was sweeping the Roman empire by the second
century AD. Some of the oldest ever Christian art can be seen
here. It is a revelation about how Christianity adopted pagan
symbols for its own ends. Spectacularly preserved ancient
Christian textiles with electrifying colours are embroidered
both with classical vines and putti (cherubs) and, more
bizarrely, the ancient Egyptian "
ankh"
symbol – a cross with a looped top that predates Christ by
millennia, but was adopted by Egypt's Christians as a sign of
everlasting life.
Egypt's gallery of pagan gods was particularly extravagant … seated figure of the Roman god Horus. This
is where the show seems to get close to solving the mystery of
religion itself. Egypt's original, pharaonic religion grows
out of the sands of prehistory. It is as old as any religion we
have evidence about. And it is a quest for everlasting life.
The Egyptians used mummification and magic to try and ensure
they survived after death and travelled to the western lands.
Monotheist faiths too promise a life after death. It is the
most human of longings. No wonder Christians adopted the Ankh
as one of their signs.
Old Cairo still survives, a walled
labyrinth of churches and a synagogue. I was once there during
the Muslim festival of Eid al-Adha, when the churches were
under armed guard. The faith they preserve is called Coptic
Christianity, this exhibition explains, from the Coptic
language that evolved from ancient Egyptian. Coptic art is one
of the most lovable styles you will ever see. It gleefully
abandons the rules of classical Rome, yet abounds with grapes
and heroic scenes – all painted or embroidered in cheerful,
crudely energetic childlike designs. Coptic art is so joyously
colourful, it is no wonder that when Islam came it not only
allowed Christians and Jews to worship their own gods while
paying a tax for the privilege, but absorbed the vividness of
Coptic craft into its own arts.
A synagogue too
survives in Old Cairo, and at the beginning of the 20th century
a Cambridge scholar called Solomon Schechter got permission to
go into its Genizah – the storeroom where documents containing
the name of God must be deposited. It had never been cleaned
out. Schechter's hoard of medieval Jewish manuscripts is still
being studied, and one of the treasures here is an illuminated
manuscript of a collection of Indian tales that was popular in
the Islamic world and apparently enjoyed by Jews as well.
The
flow between faiths is the message this exhibition wants to
leave you with. There are Islamic manuscripts that reproduce
ancient Egypt's strange gods, as well as books of spells that
show the same magic being used by pagan Romans, early Christians
and medieval Muslims. For a faith that is truly universal, try
magic. The Hermetic tradition of magic goes back to ancient
times and mixes Jewish, Christian and Islamic ideas. A curse is
a curse, whatever god you believe in.
But the
optimism of this exhibition is too rosy. It points out that
Christians have defended mosques and Muslims have defended
churches in Egypt's recent struggles. Jews on the other hand
have almost entirely vanished from modern Egypt. Pluralism
survives there, but it is not looking good for religious
cooperation and tolerance anywhere in the region. It is easy, as
a secular western liberal, to see faith as the problem and not
the solution. For all the human passion and glory here, would
more lives be saved in this world if all faiths vanished?
This is
an invitation to dig deeper than that shallow attitude. To dig
into the sand, into the past, and into the perhaps lost person
deep within us that wants to submit or to be saved.
• Egypt: Faith After the Pharaohs is at the British Museum, London, from 29 October until 7 February. Tickets: 020-7323 8181.
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