The Eloquent Peasant, 2nd edition. Loren R. Fisher
hundred people were killed and many more wounded by paid Mubarak thugs, but the protesters were willing to die for the freedom of the Egyptian people. This was a joyous event that did something for the people beyond the fulfillment of their demands; they gained a real sense of equality. There were laborers, doctors, lawyers, Muslims, Christians, and secularists. All rose up with one voice saying that Mubarak must go. The world hopes that these people are on the road to democracy, and most of them, for the first time, will experience a life that is defined by freedom from fear, freedom from the old regime, and freedom to fulfill their dreams.
Four thousand years ago a similar great moment occurred in Egypt’s history. It happened toward the end of Egypt’s First Intermediate Period before and during the Eleventh Dynasty (2135 to 2000 BCE). The downfall of the Old Kingdom, which was thought to be eternal, brought an end to material success and introduced anarchy and chaos. The Egyptian people had a difficult time with this change in their lives. The impact of these changes can be observed in A Dialogue between a Man and His Ba,1 which was written in these chaotic times. In this story, the man argues with his Ba (or soul) about suicide.
Some positive works also came from this period. At Heracleopolis one of the kings wrote instructions to his son, Meri-ka-Re, emphasizing the need for reform. Meri-ka-Re’s father taught him to do ma‘at, “truth.” Also the prophet Ipu-wer said that the king should be a good shepherd rather than a wealthy lord. In his book on Egyptian culture, John Wilson writes, “The text which brings out most clearly the new approach to social equality and the new responsibility to render ma‘at to one’s fellows, rather than simply to the gods, is The Story of the Eloquent Peasant.”2 Wilson is correct. Equality and the hope for social justice is the fundamental theme in the story of The Eloquent Peasant, and this is why I have been interested in this story for some time.
The eloquent peasant, whose name is Khun-Anup, has much in common with the Egyptians in Tahrir Square. He was a poor peasant, who while taking his produce to market, was robbed, beaten, and belittled by Nemtinakht, who had the means and the connections to the bureaucracy to get away with such crimes. So the peasant appealed to the Chief Steward of the area. Now, it happens that this peasant’s speech was truly beautiful, and after his first appeal the authorities did not answer. Instead, they enjoyed his speech and kept him around for more. He appealed nine times. He was tired of lies and falsehood; he demanded truth. At one point he says, “Do to the doer to make him do.” This was an early form of the Golden Rule. He also says, “Doing justice is breath for the nose.” Justice gives life, and it is a rare gift. He also predicts that a ruler may gain riches through falsehood, but his rule will be short lived. But with only silence from the authorities, the peasant became discouraged. He thought of suicide, and he was fearful.
Finally, the authorities answered the peasant’s appeals. The Chief Steward returned the peasant’s goods and gave the property of Nemtinakht to him. At last the peasant was rewarded for standing for truth. As John Wilson says, “The point of the tale is that even the humblest of men may rise up and demand his rights.”3 Later, Wilson continues, “It would be pleasant if we could say that Egypt, having discovered the inherent value of the individual man, went on to try to give that concept greater validity and more effective force within the state. We cannot do so . . . When, under the national perils of the Second Intermediate Period and the aggressive nationalism of the Empire, the disciplined unity of the state became more important than the rights and opportunities of individuals, the concept of equality and social justice was finally swallowed up.”4
To win freedom is a wonderful moment, but a people must be willing to guard that moment from those who would take it away in the name of loyalty and patriotism to the state and faithfulness to the altar.
1. For this story, see Fisher, Tales from Ancient Egypt.
2. Wilson, The Culture of Ancient Egypt, 120. Wilson’s views have guided me in this discussion of The First Intermediate Period. See especially ibid., 120–24.
3. Ibid., 122.
4. Ibid., 124.
Translation1
(R 1.1) There was a man whose name was Khun-Anup;2 he was a peasant of the Field of Salt.3 He had a wife whose name was [Me]ret.
This peasant said to this wife of his, “Now, [I] am going down to Egypt to [obtain] food there for my children. Go and measure the barley that is in the storehouse; bring the remainder of the barley as of [yesterday].” Then he measured for her [six] heqat4 of barley.
(R 1.5) This peasant said to this wife of his, “Now, [there are] twenty heqat of barley for food, for you and for your children, but you shall make for me these six heqat of barley into bread and beer5 for every day [so I can live] on it.”
This peasant went down to Egypt (B1 1) after he loaded his donkeys with: reeds,6 redemet plants, natron, salt, (B1 5) sticks from [Hes]tiu,7 wood from Farafra, panther hides, jackal hides, nesha plants, (B1 10) ‘anw stones, tenem plants, khprwr plants, s3hwt plants, míswt plants, snt stones, ‘bw stones, íbs3 plants, ínbí plants, pigeons, n‘rw birds, wgsw birds, wbn plants, tbsw plants, gngnt, shní-t3, and ínst—(B1 15) a full (load) of all the good products of the Field of Salt.
This peasant went south8 toward Ninsu.9 He arrived in the region of Per-Fefi to the north of Medenit. He found a man standing upon the riverbank, whose name was Nemtinakht.10 (B1 20) He was the son of a man whose name was Isry, and he was one of the serfs of the Chief Steward,11 Rensi, the son of Meru.
This Nemtinakht said, when he saw the donkeys of this peasant, which were desirable in his heart, indeed, he said,12 “I wish I had a powerful13 divine image; I would steal this peasant’s goods with it.”
(B1 25) Now the house of this Nemtinakht was on the shoreline by a path—it was narrow; it was not wide—it measured the width of a loincloth. His14 path’s one side was under water, the other under barley.
This Nemtinakht said to his follower, “Go bring me a shroud15 from my house.” It was brought to him at once. (B1 30) Then he spread it out on the shoreline path; its hem settled on the water and its woven edge on the barley. This peasant came on the public path.16
This Nemtinakht said, “Peasant! Take it easy. Do not step17 on my garments.”
This peasant said, “I shall do your pleasure; my way is good.” (B1 35) He went up higher.
This Nemtinakht said, “Is my Upper Egyptian18 barley a path19 for you?”
This peasant said, “Good are my ways. The riverbank is high, and the only ways are under the Upper Egyptian barley. You certainly ordered the closure of our path with your garments. Will you not allow our passage on the path?”20
(B1 40) Then one of these donkeys filled its mouth with a wisp of the Upper Egyptian barley.
This Nemtinakht said, “Look, I will take away your donkey, peasant, because it is eating my Upper Egyptian barley. Note, it will tread (out the grain) because of its harvesting.”21
This peasant said, “My ways are good. (B1 45) Only one (wisp) is destroyed, and for its price,22 I will buy back23 my donkey if you take it for filling its mouth with a wisp of Upper Egyptian barley. Now I know the Lord of this district; it belongs to the Chief Steward, Rensi, son of Meru. Now he is the one who punishes every thief in this entire land. Shall I be robbed in his district?”
(B1 50) This Nemtinakht said, “Is this the proverb that people are saying: ‘A poor man’s name is pronounced