Mortuary Temple of Ramesses III

Stand still for a moment at the gate. The stone under your hand is warm, even early in the day, and it has a fine, sandy grain. Behind you, the fields of the west bank are green with sugar cane. Ahead, the pale Theban hills rise bare and sharp against the sky. This is Medinet Habu, the mortuary temple of Ramesses the Third. It is one of the best-preserved temples in all of Egypt.

First, a word about where you are. Ancient Thebes lay on both banks of the Nile. The east bank, where modern Luxor stands, was the city of the living. The west bank, where you are now, belonged to the dead. Here the pharaohs built temples for their own eternal worship. Their tombs lay hidden in the valleys behind these hills. This temple served that purpose for one king.

That king was Ramesses the Third. He ruled in the twelfth century before Christ, during the Twentieth Dynasty. Historians often call him the last great ruler of the New Kingdom, the age of Egypt's empire. His reign was long, but it was hard. Egypt faced invasions, food shortages and unrest at home. This temple was his answer to all of it. It is a statement in stone that order still held.

Now look at the gateway you came through. It does not look like a normal Egyptian temple entrance. It looks like a fortress. Scholars believe it copies the fortified towers that Egyptians saw on campaign in the lands to the east, in Syria and Canaan. Many call it a migdol, a word for this kind of fortified tower. Inside its upper rooms, the reliefs show the king relaxing with women of his household. War outside, private life above.

Walk on, and the first pylon rises in front of you. A pylon is the massive twin-towered gateway that fronts most Egyptian temples. On its face, Ramesses grips a cluster of enemies by the hair and raises his weapon over them. This pose is very old in Egyptian art. It appears for thousands of years. Here it carries a clear message to every visitor: the king protects Egypt against chaos.

Here is the first detail many visitors miss. Look closely at how the figures are carved. Most of the reliefs here are cut deep into the stone, sometimes several centimetres deep. This is called sunk relief. The outlines sink below the surface instead of standing out from it. In strong Egyptian sunlight, deep cuts throw hard shadows, so the images stay readable from far away. They are also much harder to erase. Ramesses wanted his story to last.

The most famous of these stories is on the outer north wall. There, the carvings show a great battle against invaders known today as the Sea Peoples. These were groups who moved through the eastern Mediterranean in this period, at a time when several old kingdoms collapsed. The scenes show ships locked together, warriors in feathered helmets, and men falling into the water. They are among the most important records of that turbulent age anywhere.

War here also has a grim accounting side. In some scenes, scribes count the enemy dead. They do this by tallying hands cut from the fallen. It is unpleasant to look at, but it shows how the state worked. Even victory had to be recorded, counted and checked. These walls are propaganda, of course. They show the king as he wished to be seen. But they also hold real details of weapons, ships, clothing and the faces of foreign peoples.

Now move through into the courts. Pay attention to the colour. In the second court and in the rooms beyond, much of the original paint survives. You will see deep blue, red ochre, yellow and green on the ceilings and columns. Most ancient temples have lost their colour completely. Here you get a sense of how bright these spaces once were. Look up at the ceilings, where painted vultures spread their wings across the stone.

This is the second surprise. Centuries after the pharaohs, Christians lived inside these walls. A town called Djeme grew up around and within the temple, and it lasted for a long time. A church was built in the second court. The Christians plastered over many of the old images they saw as pagan. Strangely, that plaster helped to protect some of the paint underneath. You may still notice marks where figures were deliberately scratched away.

The temple was more than a place of worship. It was also an administrative centre. Mud-brick walls once enclosed storerooms, offices, workshops and homes for priests. Beside the temple stood a royal palace. A so-called Window of Appearances linked palace and temple. From that window, the king could show himself to his officials and give rewards. Today the mud-brick is low and worn, but you can still trace its outlines on the ground.

The story of Ramesses ended in betrayal. Ancient court documents record a plot inside the royal household, known as the Harem Conspiracy. One of his wives planned to place her own son on the throne. For a long time, scholars debated whether the plot succeeded. Then, in the early twenty-first century, CT scans of the king's mummy showed a deep wound to his throat. It seems the attack was fatal. This temple outlived the man who ordered it.

Before you leave, take a slow walk back toward the gate. Notice how the sound changes. Inside the courts, the stone muffles the noise of the village. Outside, you hear voices, a donkey cart, perhaps a call to prayer from a nearby mosque. Look once more at the deep carvings catching the light. Three thousand years ago, a worried king tried to hold his world together here. The stone is still standing. Take your time with it.