AMARNA (2019.12.04)

Maybe I’ll go blind. Then I will see how you do.

Akhenaten was a peculiar pharaoh. He forbade polytheism and imposed the cult of the sun. In reality, the throne was not for him, but was reserved for his older brother, who is believed to have been abandoned in a basket on the Nile. A story we all know.

Akhenaten intensely loved his coregent, for the first time in history a woman, Nefertiti, and made her queen. He became blind in the successive ceremonies of sun worship. She also lost an eye for it. It is believed that they suffered from glaucoma, which left two kings in charge of a people they did not see.

Pharaoh died suddenly, leaving Nefertiti alone in charge of Tutankaton, son of Pharaoh and Kiya, another of his wives. The queen refused to marry a servant to reign and asked the enemy people, the Hittites, a prince to reign with her in Egypt. The Egyptian people, enraged, killed the offered prince during his arrival trip and Nefertiti disappeared in history. Only a white-eyed bust, which the Nazis hid during the war, remains.

Prematurely on the throne, Tutankhamun, as he called himself as a rejection of his father and the cult of the sun, reigned until a new threat forced him, being fragile and having difficulty walking from birth, to lead his army to the front of a quadriga at only 19 years of age. At the first blow he dies. He is buried in what was his father’s tomb, changing seals and masks and, in mummification, someone steals his heart necessary for eternal life.

It is believed that the Abraham of the Bible is actually Akhenaton, that the expulsion of the yahuds a few years after his death is about the expulsion of the Jews, and that it was the same lost brother of Akhenaton, Mosu, or Moses, who guided them and founded Judea. Perhaps here began the great division of monotheistic religions, for which so much blood is still shed.

What a rage that, even though they tell us when we are little that fire is not touched, and that the sun is not seen, we make the irreparable mistake and learn only from our own wounds.

What a rage to be blind with love.

Text: Bran Solo
www.bransolo.com