I have been fascinated by Ancient Egypt from a young age. When the opportunity arose not only to study it in my undergraduate degree at Durham University but also to attend an excavation there, the decision required little consideration.
Because of my interest in archaeology, I enjoy reading the descriptions in Pick and the Banknote Book of the ancient reliefs, statues and temples featured on Egyptian banknotes. Some designs are iconic and easily recognisable, such as Tutankhamun or the Sphinx featured on the 1994 100 Pounds banknote (Pick 61, BNB 327). Other countries might depict a native animal, vegetable, or mineral as a symbol of national identity or simply as a beautiful decorative detail. However, the presence of such images on Egyptian banknotes reflects an ancient world of tradition and belief, symbolising the deities who governed much of Egypt’s antiquity.
“It didn’t surprise me that the seated scribe was featured on banknotes, as it’s a statue pose as well-known as the sphinx”
The unknown seated scribe (Pick 68, BNB 334Unknown seated scribe as the watermark on the Central Bank of Egypt’s notes, 1967-1978 (Pick 45, BNB 311)
A recurring motif on Egyptian banknotes is the image of a seated scribe. It is first seen as a watermark on the Central Bank of Egypt’s notes from 1967-1978, before being replaced by various Pharaoh watermarks for the 1978- 2016 issues. The seated scribe reappeared on the reverse of the 2007-2008 200 Pounds banknote (Pick 68, Banknote Book 334) and has remained part of the 200 Pounds design to this day.
It didn’t surprise me that the seated scribe was featured on banknotes, as it’s a statue pose as well-known as the sphinx. What did surprise me, however, was that the 200 Pounds notes did not include a name for the figure. According to the record of the statue in the digital collections of the Egyptian Museum in Cairo, it represents an Official from the Old Kingdom. Individuals of this rank frequently commissioned statues for their tombs portraying themselves as scribes (The Egyptian Museum, 2020). The reason being that only a small portion of the population was literate, so the ability to read and write offered opportunities for economic and social advancement. The Ancient Egyptians believed resolutely that their status and wealth would follow them into the afterlife, which is why their statues, tomb reliefs, and other burial goods often told (sometimes aggrandised) stories of rank and accomplishment.
Another key belief in Ancient Egypt was the power of a name. The Egyptians believed that a person’s spirit could be kept ‘alive’ in the afterlife if their name was remembered in the living world. Celebrated figures have often had their names honoured on streets, buildings, and monuments they built or funded. Whether we agree with the deeds deemed worthy of remembrance has been a topic of debate in recent years. However, for the Ancient Egyptians, to revere a name—or ‘ren’ (rn, in hieroglyphs)—was more than just a tribute to a person’s actions after their death. They believe it contained one of the several portions of the soul. For this reason, carving it into monuments and objects gave presence to the person’s soul and was an essential part of their religious ideology. When archaeologists find a statue or relief of an individual without a name inscribed, it’s not only unfortunate for our understanding of the past, but also sad that their name, and therefore spirit, has not survived through the ages.
I could have left the mystery there, forgetting the statue just as its name has been forgotten over time. But it was too late; my curiosity had been sparked and I simply had to learn more. Although we have limited information about this statue and the person it represents, there are similar statues in the Egyptian Museum in Cairo that offer useful comparisons. There is still a lot we can infer about our seated scribe, with or without a name.
Padiamenope: Scribe of the Divine Papyrus Rolls
During my visit to Egypt in 2018, I went the Egyptian museum in Cairo and recall seeing a similar statue to our unnamed scribe depicting a man named Padiamenope–sometimes referred to by his Hellenised name Petamenophis. The statue is made of a red quartzite, a common type of sandstone used in statues and sarcophagi. His hairline and facial expression are designed to convey age and seniority. The hieroglyphs on this statue tell us that Padiamenope held the title of Chief Lector Priest. Throughout Ancient Egypt’s dynasties, priesthood had ranks, and the title of Lector Priest was given to those who “recited the spells and rites, both in temple ceremonies and at funerals” (Oxford Encyclopaedia of Ancient Egypt, Vol III, p. 69).
Scribe Statue CG 36, The Egyptian Museum, photograph by J. Bodsworth, 2007
Egyptologist Isabelle Régen conducted a study of texts from the walls of the burial chamber in Padiamenope’s Theban tomb (Metatextuality and Efficiency in Ancient Egypt: Two Examples from Priest Padiamenope’s Tomb, in Orientalia Lovaniensia Analecta, Vol. 232, 2014, pp. 259-271). In his revised version of the funerary text the ‘Book of the Gates’, Padiamenope portrays himself as actively participating in the journey of the dead being ferried through the underworld by the sun god Ra. This text not only demonstrates the priest’s devotion to his funerary service, but he also suggests he “is an active member of the team of haulers, thus one of the Underworld Gods.” (Régen, 2014, p. 266).
Unlike in other religions, it was common for Egyptians to compare themselves to the gods or even insert themselves into mythology. They believed their involvement in the afterlife was as real and significant as their experiences in the living world. However, the claim to being a god was typically reserved for Pharaohs, who were considered divine during their lifetimes and were deified and worshipped as gods after their death. On rare occasions, non-royal individuals were also deified, but these were usually people closely associated with the Pharaoh and who held high-ranking positions. Padiamenope’s self-promotion to ‘underworld god’ suggests the elite position he must have held during his life.
Although I did not know the details of Padiamenope’s life when I saw the statue in 2018, I understood he must have been a celebrated public figure. What struck me as odd was that someone whose role of Chief Lector Priest was immortalised in the pose of a scribe, as I assumed his duties were entirely related to temple rituals. However, his other titles–” the royal chief of the scribes of the king’s documents” and “scribe of the divine [papyrus] rolls of Re-Horakhty”–directly connect him to scribal work. Padiamenope’s seated scribe pose could reflect his scribal duties, but it might also symbolise his high standing in the temple.
Scribe statue of Padiamenope in The Egyptian Museum (2018), photograph by authorThe hieroglyphs on the scribe statue of Padiamenope in The Egyptian Museum (2018), photograph by author
Amenhotep, Son of Hapu: Scribe of Recruits Another notable example of a seated scribe statue in the Egyptian Museum in Cairo is that of Amenhotep, son of Hapu (not to be confused with Pharaoh Amenhotep III, to whom the civil servant Amenhotep served as scribe). Amenhotep, son of Hapu, is seated in one of the New Kingdom galleries on the ground floor. Unfortunately, I don’t have photographs of the statue from my trip, but it can be found in the museum’s online collection. He differs greatly in appearance from Padiamenope. Amenhotep wears a short wig, has a youthful face, and his abdomen displays rippling rolls of fat. Both the wig and his rotund stomach reflect his high status and wealth, suggesting he enjoyed the finest food and attire. On his chest are two royal cartouches, symbolising his connection to royalty and their protective role. Despite these differences, Amenhotep shares the same seated, cross-legged pose as Padiamenope, with his left hand holding a scroll spread across his lap and his right hand poised as if holding a pen–the iconic seated scribe pose.
Amenhotep was held in high esteem at the Pharaoh’s court and held a number of significant positions of office. He first served as royal scribe, later managing the military administration under the title ‘scribe of recruits’, and eventually became the ‘overseer of the king’s works’. As a result, Amenhotep is sometimes referred to as an architect, with texts related to his work describing his responsibilities overseeing the construction of statues, temples, and monuments for the Pharaoh (Egypt’s Dazzling Sun: Amenhotep III and His World, Arielle Kozloff, 1992). Amenhotep’s scribal training gave him access to many respected positions and titles throughout his life, but these are the ones most commonly recorded on his statues.
After his death, Amenhotep the scribe was honoured with his own funerary temple in Thebes, situated behind that of Pharaoh Amenhotep III and beside other royal temples. This extraordinary tribute emphasises his exceptional status, as it was rare for a non-royal to be granted such a distinction. Amenhotep is widely considered to be one of the rare examples of a non-royal individual who was posthumously worshipped as divine. While his cult may have started at this mortuary temple in Thebes, there is evidence that Amenhotep was worshipped in other regions as a god of healing, particularly during the Ptolemaic period (Kozloff, 1992).
Some experts suggest that despite his prestige as a vizier, Amenhotep remained associated with his northern hometown. Others argue that it was precisely his royal influence that enabled him to hold an important position in his birthplace, Hut-Repyt (more commonly known by its Greek name, Athribis). Whether due to personal connection or a political strategy, Amenhotep was honoured as the “overseer of priests” at the temple in Hut-Repyt and worshipped as their local god for a time. Although he was later replaced by the crocodile-god Khenti-kheti, Amenhotep’s fame endured as a classic tale of a hometown hero, overshadowing any crocodile god successor.
What does the Seated Scribe Pose Mean?
Like our unnamed scribe featured on Egyptian banknotes, Padiamenope and Amenhotep are both depicted in seated scribe poses, despite their different job roles. Poses in Ancient Egyptian art were used to communicate a god’s or person’s function. For example, Pharaohs are often seated on a throne or in a striding or ‘smiting’ pose, brandishing a weapon to symbolise their power. Servants may be depicted on reliefs as much smaller than their masters, and carrying offerings of food and drink, showing subservience and inferiority.
Scribe Statue of Amenhotp son of Hepu [sic], The Egyptian Museum, photograph by O. Tausch, 2019Relief attributed to Petamenophis, The Metropolitan Museum of Art
Other occupations are shown through the action depicted; for instance, a farmer may be holding a sickle and cutting down a row of crops. Whilst in Egypt, I went to the ruins of a temple to Hathor, one of Ancient Egypt’s major goddesses. On the temple reliefs, priests can be seen loading incense into a burner, something used extensively in religious practice. Scribes are no different, their poses and props clearly show the type of work they undertake. They are depicted in a seated or kneeling position, one hand is often posed holding a papyrus, which is either a scroll on their lap or interpreted as hieroglyphs carved into their kilt, and the other hand is posed as if they are writing upon the papyrus.
Understanding the complexity of written language in Ancient Egypt was not a common skill; scribes were professionally trained, either in temples or bureaucratic departments, and rewarded with employment in a range of governmental and private enterprises. These included: tax collection and treasury operation; state issues resources, such as rationing; import and export of goods; military expeditions; large scale construction of temples or pyramids; legal proceedings; temple administration; and private business transactions (Introduction to the Archaeology of Ancient Egypt, Kathryn Bard, 2007). The role of scribe is less of a singular occupation, and instead tells us the individual was educated and highly skilled. It is interesting that the seated scribe pose signifies the person’s high status, rather than merely reflecting the routine tasks of their work.
A fantastic contemporary source for a perspective on the job of a scribe is the Middle Kingdom text ‘the Instruction of Khety’ (also known as the Satire of Scribes). Written in the literary form of a teaching from father to son, Khety is taking his son Pepy to scribal school and proudly highlights all the benefits of the life of a scribe to him, whilst contrasting to the arduous, dirty, and dangerous work of other professions. Pepy will be clean, well fed, and enjoy the respect and opportunity that scribal school bestows to its students. Like any parent who wants the best for their child, Khety encourages his son to pursue a better life and do his best to succeed. He summarises the ease of scribal life to Pepy: “…to writing you must turn your mind. See for yourself, it saves one from work…” (The Teaching of Dua-Kheti: A New Look at the Satire of the Trades, James Hoch, in the Society for the Study of Egyptian Antiquities, Vol XXI/ XXII,1991, pp. 88-100)
Priest loading an incense holder on a Temple of Hathor relief (2018), photograph by authorReverse of the 2007-2008 200 Pounds banknote (Pick 68, BNB 334)
Naming the Unnamed
The scribe featured on Egyptian banknotes may remain unnamed, but by examining notable individuals portrayed in the same pose, we can infer something about this figure’s skills and status. As exemplified by the statues of the temple scribe Padiamenope and Amenhotep, son of Hapu in the Egyptian Museum in Cairo, the role of ‘scribe’ encompassed a range of civil, royal, military, and religious occupations. Unlike the farmer or the servant, the seated scribe is not confined to the props he holds; rather, the pose reflects the power and opportunity afforded by literacy. As previously discussed, the Ancient Egyptians placed great importance on the power of a name, believing that a part of a person’s soul lived on through the remembrance of their name. It is therefore unfortunate that the name of this statue has not survived. However, it is somewhat comforting that, despite being nameless, this figure has been memorialised on Egyptian banknotes. As new designs for polymer notes are introduced, I can only hope that our unnamed scribe continues to be featured, preserving his legacy for the future.