A Very Good Year
Amends
As was customary upon his return to The Residence, Joseph arranged to meet with the king, both to satisfy King Senusret of the progress in preparation for the famine and to hear further instructions from the king.
Joseph informed one of the king’s servants of his need for a visit with the king. The servant asked Joseph to take a seat while the message was delivered.
When the servant returned, he asked if Joseph had any information requiring immediate attention. When Joseph replied he did not, the servant said that Joseph and his wife were to join the king and his wife for dinner.
That this was to be more of a social occasion rather than a formal meeting pleased Joseph. No discussion with a man of the intelligence and power of Senusret could be considered idle, and familiarity definitely was not permitted, but this was an opportunity to hear more general marks, to obtain a glimpse into the man beneath the crown.
As on his previous trip, Asenath had greeted Joseph as he had entered The Residence’s grounds. Apparently, she had an arrangement with the guards to be notified when Joseph was seen approaching. She had returned to their apartment awaiting Joseph’s return from meeting with the king.
When he returned to their apartment, Asenath gave Joseph the more personal greeting of their private chambers.
When telling of the events in their separate lives during his absence, Joseph began by advising Asenath of their invitation to have dinner with Senusret and the queen. Joseph had not thought to ask, but he assumed the wife would be Weret.
Asenath acknowledged the invitation and added new information apparently not given to Joseph.
“I am sure that you are correct. And I suspect that Captain Potiphar and his wife will be there, as well. Potiphar returned a few days ago, and Zelicha told me that there would probably be a dinner for us all with the royal couple upon your return.”
“That comes as a surprise. I would have thought the king, the captain, and myself talking of preparations for the famine would be of little interest to the wives.”
“Zelicha has a rather close relationship with the queen. Although she has few formal powers, Weret does exercise some degree of power over her husband.
“My interaction with Zelicha was limited during your absence although I never discouraged her at all. I suspect that she views this neutral setting as a way to bridge the awkwardness of the relationships with both you and me. Preparations for the famine may be the focus of the men as we come together, but the interaction of the participants will be the focus of the wives.”
“The idea of this dinner does feel awkward, but if there are uncertainties in anyone’s mind, including yours, I look forward to dispelling them.”
Knowing how she would feel in such an awkward situation, Asenath was puzzled. “What will you do?”
Joseph had been removing clothing from his bag. Although he had made use of offers of several hosts for cleansing his clothing, the few changes of clothes he had were again filthy. He turned and faced her. “What do you mean?”
“I mean to ask how you will act in view of this misunderstanding that cost you three years of your life! This does not seem like something that can or should be ignored, even in this setting.”
“Perhaps my view is too simple, but perhaps keeping things as simple as possible is the best course.
“I know Irsu’s wife, and also the wives of several others who are part of this project. I will be toward Zelicha as I would be toward any of the wives. What can be said that does not resurrect old questions? Is mutual respect toward one another not enough?”
“If I had wronged you – or if you had wronged me – an apology seems the appropriate way to clear the air, to restore balance.”
Joseph considered her statement for a moment. “Grant me the opportunity to clear the air without raising the questions.”
He walked toward her and took her hands. “Again, I am indebted to you for your perspective. As you identified the need for forgiveness rather than blame regarding the poor and the foreigner, so I understand from your feminine perspective the need for forgiveness to be expressed. So it will be done.”
“But how….?”
Joseph interrupted her question. “That is for later, but now I must see if I have something appropriate to wear since everything that I carried is dirty.” Looking at her to be sure that she understood the conversation was closed, he added, “You would much prefer that I be presentable, would you not?”
‘ You are not very subtle. Since you have nothing left that is clean, I will leave the appropriate conversation to you and will take the task of your clothing upon myself. That is an appropriate balance, so ma’at is restored.”
She kissed his cheek and took the clothes that seemed most appropriate and proceeded with them out the door.
Since Tem was not there, all was silent in the apartment. Joseph took the opportunity to clean himself before he went to lie down, laying down his thoughts as well as his body. Within a moment he was asleep, waking only upon Asenath’s return.
She walked into the bedroom with enough noise to wake him.
“Time to wash and get dressed. The sun is near the horizon already. Drying these clothes had to be speeded a bit by hanging before a fire,“ she said as she held up the coat, “but I think Tem and I did an excellent job.”
The sleep had been short enough to rest him but not deep enough to leave him in a brain fog. He rinsed his mouth with some water, put on the clothes, applied his eye makeup, and was ready to leave.
Asenath changed from her daily dress to another that was almost identical, but more colorful and obviously of new material. The one piece full length dress held by two straps allowed for a quick change of clothing. Normally, the simplicity of dress was balanced by her more lengthy time with cosmetics. This afternoon, however, she made do with what she had applied earlier.
They briskly walked the distance to the other side of The Residence where the royal quarters and entertainment rooms were located. The smaller of the two rooms used for dining sufficed for the six participants.
The king, the first queen (as Weret was known), Potiphar, and Zelicha stood near the entrance engaged in a conversation, evidently one involving humor as they were laughing, each holding a cup of wine.
The scene was the most relaxed setting in which Joseph had ever seen the king. Weret appeared to be chiding him about something.
Joseph and Asenath were acknowledged and invited to join the circle. Joseph was introduced to the queen, the only pair who had not met before this occasion.
“Your reputation has preceded you and I look forward to hearing of your experiences, Zaphnath-Paaneah.” Glancing at her husband, she asked, “Or may I simply call him Joseph?”
“Please call him Joseph. We are informal here, and I would be most offended if you began calling me Khakhaeperre or required that I call you Khnumetneferhedjetweret.”
After the king had spoken, Joseph gave a slight bow to Weret. “I feel that I have already met you by the compliments on your beauty and intelligence that I have heard in my travels through your kingdom. And I am honored to be known to you as Joseph.”
Other than brief eye contact and a nod of recognition as he had done with Potiphar and the king, Joseph gave no other notice of Zelicha. She was to him as the others in the small circle.
Senusret suggested that they go ahead and be seated. Wine would be brought for the new arrivals and food would follow soon.
The table was set for six. The chairs were of imported oak with woven reed seats. The cushions on the seat and back of each chair made for one of the more comfortable dinners that Joseph had experienced among his travels to the wealthy of Egypt.
The meal, when it finally arrived after fruit and then more wine, included antelope and a variety of vegetables cooked with savory herbs. The antelope they were told, had been killed by the king on his most recent hunt in The Fayum.
Conversation was varied, although the king did ask Joseph about his trip to the delta. Joseph gave few details, although he did describe a rather interesting dinner with the governor of the eighth district.
“The meeting with the governor in the afternoon had gone well. Of course, he had objected strenuously to the increased tax, and had then fallen back to objecting to the size of the increase after Joseph’s counter-arguments.
“He invited me to join him for dinner, along with two his aides. A servant brought out a very nice platter of vegetables and bread with a side of fish.
“Before anyone could begin eating, the governor said, ‘Of course, we shall have to get used to the one-fifth tax of the king.’ He gave a hand signal to the head servant.
“The head servant and three others in the background came up to each of us at the table and removed the bread from our plates.
‘I believe that is about one-fifth of your meal, gentlemen. Enjoy what is left, courtesy of the king.’”
“How did you respond?” asked Potiphar, leaning forward with great interest.
“I protested of course. ‘Governor, the one-fifth comes from your surplus yield in a bountiful year. You should have given us more than we could eat before removing the one-fifth.’
“His aides gave a suppressed laugh, but the governor was not so affected by the comment, at least, not at first. Finding he had no response, he finally shrugged and laughed. Then he signaled for the servant to bring back what had been taken.”
Everyone laughed appropriately, but everyone knew that such exchanges were like skirmishes in a larger battle. A victory simply meant there would be more skirmishes while a loss would have yielded ground and meant more unfavorable conditions for battles ahead. Keeping everyone focused on the larger picture of preparation for an enduring famine would be difficult.
“One of the more interesting things I have learned in my travels,” Joseph concluded, “is that rather than see the benefit of knowing of the coming famine and preparing for it, the wealthy who are taxed see only blame for the king who prepares for a difficult future.”
“Perhaps that is our human tendency, to place blame, and to place it on the most convenient rather than on the most correct cause,” observed Weret.
“There is the joke that speaks of our tendency to blame,” offered Potiphar. “When you see a person reacting calmly while everything is crashing down around them and there is panic in the streets, you know that he knows who to blame.”
Polite chuckles acknowledged that humor could be an effective and non-threatening way to understand reality.
Joseph had been relatively quiet other than when asked to speak of his trip, so he took the opportunity to relate another story.
“Blame is an intoxicating thing, and it can make us forget who we really are.
“When I was young, I was my father’s favorite. My ten older brothers did not take kindly to this fact, especially since I flaunted it in their faces. Oh, I didn’t mean to taunt them. I was ignorant of the larger picture, of the feelings of other people, and of how the future can change in an instant.
“Proudly wearing a many colored coat that my father had given to me, I came upon them in a field. They took off my beautiful coat and lowered me into a dry well, and there they left me.
“Some hours passed before they came back. I had a lot of time to think about dying in that hole. There also was a lot of time to cast blame. Of course, blame began with my brothers. But understanding finally brought the blame to myself.
“My brothers came back for me and lifted me out of the well. And though they did not apologize, and in fact treated me harshly by selling me to a traveling merchant, I have forgiven them. I understand that there were forces at work that were larger than them.”
Joseph had primarily addressed Potiphar, but as the story progressed, he had moved his gaze to each of the royal couple and to Asenath. As he concluded, his gaze went to Zelicha.
“If I were to see them today, I would make no mention of the event. I would simply act in the manner that our relationship as brothers dictates we should act.
“Apologies evidenced rather than spoken are those most genuinely accepted, and I hope that this understanding would be mutual.”
“That was a rather revealing story, Joseph,” Senusret said to break what the king considered an awkward silence, evidencing a little discomfort at the personal twist the conversation had taken. His tone expressed that he did not fully comprehend the relevance of this particular story, though he probably understood the story itself.
Joseph was still fixed on Zelicha as the king had begun his comment, and a tentative smile and nod of her head told him that his goal had been achieved.
Asenath gave a squeeze of encouragement to Joseph’s hand beneath the table.
Joseph did not see Potiphar’s face, but he knew that the captain understood, also.
Joseph now looked at the king as the king ended his statement. Perhaps the king was the only one who did not understand what had been spoken. Weret would surely tell him later.
“I apologize, your highness. Sometimes a story is the only way to express what cannot be said in another way.”
To change the subject, he continued, “Please tell me, I have heard that you hunt frequently in The Fayum. The talk is usually of lions, wild boar, and other dangerous animals. Do you often have the opportunity to also hunt wild game? This antelope we are having tonight is a wonderful dish.”
Senusret smiled. “As you say, stories are a good way to say something more easily than saying it outright. Dangerous animals make for better hunting images of a king than antelope.
“If truth be told, I would prefer to spend the bulk of my hunting time on the more practical game. But be clear, I have ordered that my tomb include depictions only of the lions and wild boar and such that I have killed.”
He smiled at what he felt had been a story showing his own vulnerability, but quickly added, “That is, of course, only for the ears of those in this room. I am a hunter only of the most ferocious animals beyond this circle!”
Senusret then began a story on an interesting hunting expedition in the marshland of Lake Fayum when he was young. This had been before the lake had been enlarged and the area was mostly wild. Potiphar was able to join in the reminiscence since he had served Senusret’s father. They became rather enthused recounting stories of the lions and wild boar there.
The women drifted into their own conversation in self-defense.
Although not the normal topic of conversation for the evening, Senusret did ask during the latter part of the evening what Joseph and Potiphar thought the reaction would be when the time came to collect the higher tax.
Both Joseph and Potiphar expressed concern and together they presented the solution, but details were for a larger group session. There were two basic recommendations, both ultimately resting on the fact that grain was the primary medium of exchange. Controlling the grain was equivalent to controlling Egypt.
First and foremost, make sure that the evidence of the king’s use of the extra grain collected was visible in the storage facilities being built. This they had foreseen in having the granaries built in the most populous areas, the work accomplished as much as possible with local people and resources. The purpose of all of this effort must continually be kept before the people, this was a hedge against the certainty of a future famine.
Second, there must be an army of scribes overseeing everything from planting (for the coming years) to harvest (which would soon begin). Accuracy of the available grain and of the king’s portion was imperative. This large bureaucratic structure must permeate the local economy so that the individual farmer, the wealthy landowners, and the king’s government were a single unit.
Senusret was in a particularly agreeable mood after what had been a very relaxed evening until this point. He made the suggestion (already hinted by one of the wives) that the whole council should be involved in the details, and that the three of them should continue to enjoy the evening.
He invited Wosret to come back and sit next to him. He signaled a servant to bring another cup of wine for each of them. He then proceeded to tell another hunting story, one from the Nubian area of the Nile.
Balancing the Present and the Future
Following their trips through all of Egypt, there was little that Joseph or Potiphar could accomplish themselves by additional travel. Encouragement and support from The Residence appeared most often in the form of scribes and construction superintendents who descended on district capitals. Increased interference from the central government generally was discouraged by local officials, but this situation brought construction and employment, an infusion of investment in the local economy.
Such a coordinated effort across a nation as extensive as Egypt had not been accomplished anywhere else, so The Stores Council had to use creativity and imagination in the beginning. Trial and error also played a role as material and labor requirements were met unevenly in some areas, but the storage sites were all functional if not complete when the harvest began.
The recorded notes of the first meeting following the return of Joseph and Potiphar follow. As edited by Joseph, they are vital to understanding the nature of Senusret II and the religion of Egypt at the time.
The council met in their usual room with the king present at its head.
The issues raised by the king became the agenda:
The king outlined his concept of ma’at, the fairness, justice, mercy, equality and balance that he envisioned for his reign. As an outsider to Egyptian religion, it had taken some years for Joseph to understand how ma’at permeated not only the religion of Egypt, but also everyday life.
The reason was not just to do with ma’at’s values were good and noble, but that the goddess Ma’at determined whether a person would reach the afterlife by means of a very clear test: on her scale, she measured a person’s soul against the feather of truth. A person must have observed ma’at to reach the afterlife.
The king’s words sounded almost identical to those spoken soon after Joseph had interpreted his dreams as one dream foretelling of a future famine, but there was a difference.
The king’s first words were almost identical to those before. “We are planning the means to secure a buffer against the lean years, a means to store grain that none in Egypt may perish when the famine comes.
“As king, I am the symbol of Ra, the sun god, and Ma’at is my daughter. Ma’at will be my legacy. You know that ma’at is more than just balance, for it includes the concepts of truth, justice, morality, and mercy. And these words describe my reign.”
He paused for effect before continuing.
“I, the king of Egypt, provide the funds for preparation for the famine at my own expense, and this is fairness to the people.
“The people know of the famine to come. Those of wealth and resources must store grain that they might have food when the lean years come. Here you see the justice of requiring those who are able to store grain to do so.
“Each may secure his future on his own to the degree that he is able, or he may resort to using the resources of the king to provide for his future. This is mercy.
“Let this be clear through all the land: the king’s storage of grain will be available to all who require food. Ma’at requires equality before the king’s law, the foundation of order and ma’at. And the law tempered with mercy for those who hunger is the heart of ma’at. Let him who has grain eat his own. Let him who requires grain come to the king. As the herd or flock forages for food in good seasons, the caretaker provides food for them in the bad seasons.”
Joseph noted the shift in the king’s thinking. Gone was the harshness for the poor who had not the resources for storing food. In its place was a sympathy, almost an empathy with the poor and destitute.
When he had come to an understanding of ma’at, Joseph had marveled again at the complexity of the Egyptian religion while at the same time admiring the simplicity underlying the complexity.
Whether the Egyptian cosmology spoke of an innate yearning for the Creator and an understanding of His character, or whether God spoke into the hearts of the people His truth, Joseph did not know. Coupled with the dreams of the king and the understanding given to Joseph, he could not help but believe divine direction were ordering events even now.
Senusret’s pronouncement of his concern that ma’at be maintained at every level of both collection and disbursement of the grain was yet another confirmation.
He would have thought more on the king’s change of emphasis, but the reports from the different members were now beginning.
Khusebek had begun his report, speaking also for Neferu, who was in Upper Egypt ensuring the large granary at Thebes remained on schedule. He began by affirming that the major granaries would be operational in time for the harvest. Every location would have sufficient storage for at least the first year’s harvest and construction would continue through the second year.
Sebek-khu reported that construction of several barges had been completed. Arrangements had been made with owners of barges in the more populous areas to supplement the royal barges during the peak harvest season rather than build additional boats utilized only a very few weeks per year. Movement from barges to storage sites would be contracted, as needed.
Joseph and Potiphar gave slightly more detailed accounts of their journeys than they had given to the king in order to create the full context for the others. Their accounts gave understanding to the reality that preparation for the famine by the nobles would be good for the most part, although some would do so halfway and have insufficient supplies. Of course, those with lesser means would find storage of grain for the future at the expense of the present difficult if not impossible.
Irsu, Royal Treasurer, preceded his comments with the observation that the other parts of the plan were moving forward smoothly, but all was being done at the expense of the king without any offsetting income to the royal treasury.
He launched into his financial report, adhering strictly to the principles of scribes as reporters of numbers, not as commentators on moral repercussions.
Joseph sensed from his first words that Irsu had missed the king’s change of emphasis. Indeed, his tone of voice was that of a man who felt his words were the ones of primary importance and that the effort at famine relief depended on the Treasury. The accountant’s view of Ma’at was superficial, dealing with externals only, whereas the king (and the priests and much of society) held that concepts such as fairness, justice, equality, and mercy must permeate the entire being of a person – including a man’s job or a king’s reign.
Irsu’s first concern was the lack of royal resources to finance preparation for the famine throughout the seven years of good crops. There were now great commitments in expenditures for materials and workers without sufficient revenue to offset the expenses.
A second concern was that in spite of an extensive network of scribes throughout Egypt, more scribes were necessary than were currently employed by the king. Since the training of a scribe was on the order of a minimum of three to four years, new scribes could not simply be called into service. Without accurate accounting of the harvest, the tax and the amount of grain stored would be unknown quantities.
Irsu’s final concern was numbers showing the likelihood that depressed prices for the sale of grain during the good years, coupled with the inability of many Egyptians to pay for grain in the years of famine, spelled economic disaster.
As he explained the situation, higher prices for grain in the years of famine would result in highly profitable sales to wealthy foreigners. Irsu emphasized that the bulk of the grain must be reserved for this market. Such a policy was necessary for the king to recoup his expenses in preparing for the famine.
In summary, Irsu counseled restraint in additional plans, urging that those who did not prepare for the famine must pay the price. This was true for the nobleman and craftsman and farmer. Each would have access to grain at the prevailing price during the famine. With foreknowledge of the famine, each person was obliged to accept responsibility for his own future. This was ma’at’s balance.
Senusret, leaning forward to give emphasis to his words, was focused on Irsu as he began his response. Like the sun emerging from behind a cloud, the king banished the darkness of Irsu’s counsel.
“We are not here to allow the chaos of the desert to overtake the order of the Nile. Joseph’s God has a greater purpose for us. Let us review where a greater effort is needed to achieve our goal. Balance and fairness are the brothers of truth, justice, morality, and mercy, and they must not be separated.”
The king’s eyes had passed from one to the other around the table, and his final gaze again was fixed on Irsu.
Clearly uncomfortable, the Treasurer stated firmly with obvious defensiveness, “Numbers do not lie, and I report only those that I see.”
“Then let us do what we must to change the numbers,” the king said, his tone a command rather than a suggestion.
The king rose. “I will leave resolution of Irsu’s concerns in your hands. Inform me of your proposals.”
Senusret walked out of the room. Having risen when he stood up, they all stood. For a moment, everyone was focused on the empty doorway.
Joseph broke the spell. “We have our instructions. Let’s address these concerns in more detail.”
As they all resumed their places at the table, Joseph asked Irsu, “Will we run out of resources before the harvest?”
Clearly upset by the direction the meeting had taken, Irsu made a conscious effort to restore his position as the representative of facts.
“No, but by the third year our normal supply of grain will be depleted and we will have to draw from what the king wants set aside from the harvest of his own land.”
“You are making some assumptions with this forecast,” Potiphar stated. “What are those assumptions?”
“Of course there are assumptions about the future. But first, start with the fact that we are drawing down our grain reserves now. Because grain is the primary medium of exchange for buying and selling, as well as paying laborers, that is our focus.
“Second, we assume that the harvests will be good and we will need the normal amount of grain for our own purposes. Withholding one-fifth of what should be a bumper crop leaves an unknown amount for our annual use. If there is no extra for use to fund the building projects, we will further deplete the granaries.
“Third, if there is any surplus grain beyond our needs, the prices will be low in a year of a good harvest. If this is true in neighboring countries also, we will have little revenue from sales even if we have enough to export.
“There is nothing as far as I can see that will eliminate the recurring deficit. This will lead to total depletion of the regular granaries and the need to tap into the grain reserved for the famine.”
The argument appeared to be sound, but Joseph sensed something was wrong about the assumptions. Thoughts of the visit he and Teyma had with Ti came to mind. The merchant had outlined the solution to at least a major part of their dilemma. Teyma did have a reason for taking Joseph to the ailing Ti!
“Let’s review and think out loud about what will happen,” suggested Joseph.
“There will be a good harvest, and even with one-fifth going into storage for the famine, there should still be more than a regular harvest for consumption, correct?”
“Yes,” said Khusebek, “but let’s look at the actions of the wealthy landowners, too. If they are to hold back their own one-fifth of the harvest for themselves and their own people, will they have enough grain left to last through the year?
“And if they do not have anything extra to sell, where will the people of the cities buy food? The royal farms cannot store grain and meet this extra demand, also.”
Irsu jumped on that bandwagon. “That is part of my point. Now, even in a year of a very good harvest, we are creating a shortage by saving up so much grain. Prices will rise in the cities, and there will be unrest. We will create riots and chaos, the opposite of the calm and ma’at the king advocates!”
Joseph held up a hand. “Wait! Let’s look at this more closely. If prices are up in Egypt because of a good harvest, but prices for grain are low in the east, do we have an opportunity here?”
There was silence. “Explain what you mean,” said Potiphar.
“If we do not have a surplus for sale in Egypt after we have saved grain for the famine, we will have higher prices here, and the people will become restless. But the prices in the east will be low because of their good harvest, correct?”
“Yes, that is what we have stated so clearly,” said Irsu, again defensive.
“Why can the king not buy cheap grain in the east and then sell it in Egypt to keep prices low and maintain ma’at?”
Sebek-khu shook his head. “Irsu says our resources are already running low. How can we afford to transport it over land from the east and then pay for barges to distribute it to the people of Egypt?”
Irsu saw the direction of the discussion and offered a grudging agreement. “We have enough resources to buy the grain. We would have a problem with running low, but when we sell to the people in Egypt, we sell based on the cheap imports rather than our expensive domestic grain. We can even sell at a cost high enough to cover transportation.” His countenance had brightened somewhat as he made the last statement.
Joseph smiled, moving his gaze to encompass the whole group. “I knew you would find a solution.
“In summary, we collect one-fifth of the harvest. This, coupled with whatever amount the landowners store, drives up prices here in Egypt. We buy the surplus grain from the east at the low prices of a grain market with too much supply. We sell at a slightly higher price in Egypt to cover our costs, but at a price still reasonable to the people of the cities.”
There was great relief at discovering what had turned out to be a simple solution, that is, a simple solution if there assumptions were correct.
Irsu then reminded them, “But there is the second concern, the lack of sufficient scribes.”
There was some discussion on this point, but no simple solution presented itself. Because the discussion on resources and the price of grain had consumed so much of their day, Joseph suggested they return to the issue of scribes on the following day. A time was set to meet in the morning and the meeting was adjourned.
The Vital Other Half
With the journey completed only the day before, followed by dinner with the king that evening, and now a full day of working on the plans already set in motion, Joseph was beyond exhausted.
The thought occurred to him for the first time that perhaps this was an introduction to old age. After all, thirty was considered the age of physical and mental maturity, the appropriate minimal age for a leader. Perhaps this was the age at which his energy would peak.
No, he put aside that thought. As he made his way to his home just a short distance within The Residence, he found the spring in his step and a sense of energy returning. The farther behind the meeting room, the greater his energy level. Sitting in a meeting all day must be equally tiring as harvesting all day in The Fayum – it was just a different tiredness.
A short time later, Joseph and Asenath descended to the communal dining area.
Although they had their own table in the common dining area, Joseph found himself every few minutes responding to people welcoming him back and asking polite questions about his journey. He had said that he had two things, in particular, that he would like to talk about at dinner, but he never got to the first one.
As they tried to carry on a conversation, Asenath found herself smiling at her husband’s frustration. Following one such interaction, she suggested they take some bread and a cup up to the roof. Not yet dark and with the breeze, it would be pleasant enough and not yet populated.
Joseph welcomed the invitation and they made their way up the stairs. Indeed, up on the roof was peaceful as could be. An occasional bird, a muffled voice now and again from below, but otherwise quiet, the setting seemed perfect.
Each concluded their part of the conversation they had attempted below, speaking of the events during their separation.
As Asenath spoke of spending some time with the queen and Zelicha on several occasions, Joseph realized the source of the change in the king’s approach to the famine based on a deeper understanding of ma’at.
“By any chance, did you happen to bring up the subject of how the poor will fare during the famine?”
“What do you mean?” she asked innocently.
“It is just that the king spoke today of ma’at being the legacy he desired for his reign. He sounds somewhat different from a few months ago when he first spoke of the process of distributing grain during the famine.”
“That is interesting,” said Asenath. Prompting her husband to speak more of his observation, she asked, “How did he express this change of heart?”
“His talk of mercy before was that there was a balance to be made between justice and mercy. But when he spoke of ma’at today, he said it was more than balance, that it was truth, justice, morality, and mercy. I have never heard him speak of mercy but that one time months ago, and then it was only a word in a list he had learned.”
His gaze now went out over the wall of The Residence to the houses of the workers who served the king and his staff and guests. “But today when he spoke the word, it was experiential, an active word with real life application rather than a theoretical concept.”
Joseph paused as he thought how he should phrase his observation. “Before, he viewed ma’at and equality as a nobleman. Now he speaks of ma’at from the perspective of the small farmer, the craftsman, and those who are landless and without resources.”
He understood what he was trying to express now and summarized.
Addressing Asenath directly, he said, “I do not think he blames those in need as he seemed to do a few months ago. I thought perhaps that you had mentioned forgiveness to the queen. Your observation gave me a new perspective on this particular dynamic between the rich and the poor. Such an understanding seems to have reached the king.”
He saw the sun was well below the horizon, a pale gentle orange stain remaining on the edge of a darkening sky. When he looked back at Asenath, she was almost laughing.
“You are very astute, my husband. Yes, we talked about forgiving people for being where they are at any given moment, and Weret understood immediately. She expressed frustration at her husband’s lack of understanding. I told her of our conversation.”
Joseph nodded. “Well done! Apparently she was effective in the use of her powers of persuasion. The king was quite committed to the concept of fairness and mercy in the distribution of grain. Indeed, he will have it no other way.”
“Never underestimate the influence of a wife, Joseph. A woman can be quite subtle, and the man will not even know his mind has been changed. I think we are born with this ability, just as men are born with their susceptibility.”
“Perhaps I should sit at your feet and learn the true ways of the world,” said Joseph as he rose from his seat and sat at her feet.
“But it was you who taught me forgiveness! When I learned of my birth family, I had to learn a new perspective. That is not easy.
“And the actions of your brothers taught you a new perspective, and that was not easy either.
“And if I were to share a woman’s perspective with you in the language of a woman, how could you as a man even begin to understand?
“Men accomplish great feats and are skilled in the ways of nature out there in the physical world,” she said, gesturing beyond the wall. “Women are skilled in the arts of listening and persuading, masters of the inner world,” her hand now resting upon her heart.
She eased herself down from her seat to sit beside him on the floor of the roof. “I will share with you a gentle truth: You are my other half, as I am your other half. If we are joined together, we do not need to try to become what the other already is.”
Joseph was quiet for only a second or two before Asenath cleared her throat, as if she were trying to get his attention. “I gave you a gentle truth, and I await my kiss.”
Joseph said, “But I am never sure when a gentle truth deserves a kiss anymore.”
Asenath smiled. “Good,” she said. “As I have said, I do not want you to take me for granted.”
She allowed him a kiss before initiating a new conversation. “You said there were two things that you wanted to discuss at dinner. What was the other one?”
The sudden change in direction caught Joseph off guard. He recovered and said, “Oh, it is nothing we need to discuss. We just ended the meeting today stumped on an issue, but it is not really a topic for a pleasant evening on the roof.”
They were still seated side by side, but they had moved with their backs to the wall and gazing up to a moonless starry sky.
“Go ahead,” she said, turning somewhat so that she halfway faced him. “Now you have me curious.”
Reluctantly, Joseph said, “Irsu says there are not enough scribes for the work that has to be done. And it takes so long to train a scribe, there is not time to train new ones. He says it takes years of training, and with what I have learned of the business, he is correct.”
“Your problem is a shortage of scribes, then?”
“That sums it up very well.”
“Did you know that I was trained as a scribe?” she asked.
Surprised, Joseph now turned so that he halfway faced her, also.
“Yes, that is standard training for the priesthood. I don’t know if my father thought I might become a priestess, or if it was in preparation for marrying a priest, but he had me trained.” She laughed. “Now that I think about it, maybe it was just to keep me busy because I followed him everywhere he went in the temple.”
“Are all priests also scribes, then?”
“Yes, but of course, all scribes are not priests. There are even women doctors who are scribes, because they must learn to read the incantations or prayers and then use the appropriate ones.”
“If you are volunteering your services as scribe, I accept,” said Joseph. “But beyond your services, how does this help our problem? I do not think we can divert the work of the priests into becoming scribes for the king.”
“No, but you know of the many men and women who serve as priests and priestesses for one month out of four. Many were in training for the priesthood and received some or all of the scribal training.
“Of course, they learned only what was required for the work of the temples. This included copying the sacred texts, but it also included recording the accounts for the crops and the livestock, as well as the flow of offerings from people and the payment to vendors. They would not be familiar with the writings of royal edicts and laws, but they understand the ledgers of accounts. Is there a way that you could utilize their services?”
Joseph recognized the potential, but finding such people quickly and enticing them to join the king’s service might be a challenge considering the limited time. He would talk with Irsu. Perhaps the current scribes would know of potential candidates in their communities.
Still leaning back against the wall and looking at the stars above, he reached over and took Asenath’s hand in his own. “How is my other half tonight?”
“I am always whole when we are together. That is another simple truth.” And she gave him a gentle kiss.
There Is a Season for Everything
The harvest was indeed a good one, and the flood that followed gave promise of a good second year.
Irsu’s concerns about the Treasury proved unfounded.
The collection of normal taxes from the craftsmen, merchants, and those of other professions always brought a variety of goods to the Treasury. Since these workers did not have grain, the taxes were calculated in grain equivalents. These goods ranged from bolts of linen to jewelry, from pottery to cosmetics.
Because Egypt had chosen not to export grain but to import grain, these items became the medium of exchange, the means of buying grain from foreigners.
The value of these goods remained as always but, as predicted, the grain with which they were purchased from the Asiatics was cheaper than normal. Thus, more grain must be paid for the bolt of linen or the work of the jewelers.
This influx of cheap grain, mixed with the small amount of high priced Egyptian available to the market, lowered grain prices in Egypt but kept the transaction profitable for the king, allowing him to finance the storage of grain. This pattern held to varying degrees for each of the following six years, as well.
Irsu’s second concern, a shortage of scribes, never developed because of the existing “army of scribes.” Indeed, there was a common belief that the scribes outnumbered the army, and many thought that the scribes did more to enforce order than the army. And that was judged a good thing, that the economic interests of all were maintained in balance between the needs of the people for their individual lives and the requirement for the king to distribute to those who were reliant on the support of others.
So even though there were few additional scribes acquired from those trained in the skill in the temples, the efficient bureaucracy already in place adjusted to the increased workload.
Irsu’s third concern had been that the cost of mercy was too high and unaffordable considering economic events. This also was eliminated by the profitable purchase of cheap eastern grain.
One evening as they sat on the roof gazing into the heavens on another moonless night, Joseph mentioned the positive outcomes compared with Irsu’s predictions. He briefly described how none of what Irsu had feared had occurred.
Asenath sympathized with Irsu. “I am sure that these concepts were not taught in the school for scribes. What one person views as impossible, another person may see as inevitable. As you can attest, the future is an unknown that may prove far better than could have been foretold. Do we not each see reality differently?”
Joseph had to agree. Although his interpretation of others’ dreams had been given to him, the precise means of how his own dreams could become reality had never been revealed in advance. He saw the outcome represented in the dream, but the path to that end might still remain hidden.
Asenath said, “You see that it is another moonless night. There have been three full moons since we sat in this place and looked at a moonless sky, but I have known only one of the full moons.”
Joseph was puzzled. Surely this was a riddle, but one for which he was supposed to know the answer. He struggled with how to respond.
“I have not been counting, but we have been to the roof very frequently. How could you – we – have missed two full moons?”
“No, it is only I who have missed the full moons. This happens to married women on occasion.”
Joseph understood. Asenath was pregnant.
Amends
As was customary upon his return to The Residence, Joseph arranged to meet with the king, both to satisfy King Senusret of the progress in preparation for the famine and to hear further instructions from the king.
Joseph informed one of the king’s servants of his need for a visit with the king. The servant asked Joseph to take a seat while the message was delivered.
When the servant returned, he asked if Joseph had any information requiring immediate attention. When Joseph replied he did not, the servant said that Joseph and his wife were to join the king and his wife for dinner.
That this was to be more of a social occasion rather than a formal meeting pleased Joseph. No discussion with a man of the intelligence and power of Senusret could be considered idle, and familiarity definitely was not permitted, but this was an opportunity to hear more general marks, to obtain a glimpse into the man beneath the crown.
As on his previous trip, Asenath had greeted Joseph as he had entered The Residence’s grounds. Apparently, she had an arrangement with the guards to be notified when Joseph was seen approaching. She had returned to their apartment awaiting Joseph’s return from meeting with the king.
When he returned to their apartment, Asenath gave Joseph the more personal greeting of their private chambers.
When telling of the events in their separate lives during his absence, Joseph began by advising Asenath of their invitation to have dinner with Senusret and the queen. Joseph had not thought to ask, but he assumed the wife would be Weret.
Asenath acknowledged the invitation and added new information apparently not given to Joseph.
“I am sure that you are correct. And I suspect that Captain Potiphar and his wife will be there, as well. Potiphar returned a few days ago, and Zelicha told me that there would probably be a dinner for us all with the royal couple upon your return.”
“That comes as a surprise. I would have thought the king, the captain, and myself talking of preparations for the famine would be of little interest to the wives.”
“Zelicha has a rather close relationship with the queen. Although she has few formal powers, Weret does exercise some degree of power over her husband.
“My interaction with Zelicha was limited during your absence although I never discouraged her at all. I suspect that she views this neutral setting as a way to bridge the awkwardness of the relationships with both you and me. Preparations for the famine may be the focus of the men as we come together, but the interaction of the participants will be the focus of the wives.”
“The idea of this dinner does feel awkward, but if there are uncertainties in anyone’s mind, including yours, I look forward to dispelling them.”
Knowing how she would feel in such an awkward situation, Asenath was puzzled. “What will you do?”
Joseph had been removing clothing from his bag. Although he had made use of offers of several hosts for cleansing his clothing, the few changes of clothes he had were again filthy. He turned and faced her. “What do you mean?”
“I mean to ask how you will act in view of this misunderstanding that cost you three years of your life! This does not seem like something that can or should be ignored, even in this setting.”
“Perhaps my view is too simple, but perhaps keeping things as simple as possible is the best course.
“I know Irsu’s wife, and also the wives of several others who are part of this project. I will be toward Zelicha as I would be toward any of the wives. What can be said that does not resurrect old questions? Is mutual respect toward one another not enough?”
“If I had wronged you – or if you had wronged me – an apology seems the appropriate way to clear the air, to restore balance.”
Joseph considered her statement for a moment. “Grant me the opportunity to clear the air without raising the questions.”
He walked toward her and took her hands. “Again, I am indebted to you for your perspective. As you identified the need for forgiveness rather than blame regarding the poor and the foreigner, so I understand from your feminine perspective the need for forgiveness to be expressed. So it will be done.”
“But how….?”
Joseph interrupted her question. “That is for later, but now I must see if I have something appropriate to wear since everything that I carried is dirty.” Looking at her to be sure that she understood the conversation was closed, he added, “You would much prefer that I be presentable, would you not?”
‘ You are not very subtle. Since you have nothing left that is clean, I will leave the appropriate conversation to you and will take the task of your clothing upon myself. That is an appropriate balance, so ma’at is restored.”
She kissed his cheek and took the clothes that seemed most appropriate and proceeded with them out the door.
Since Tem was not there, all was silent in the apartment. Joseph took the opportunity to clean himself before he went to lie down, laying down his thoughts as well as his body. Within a moment he was asleep, waking only upon Asenath’s return.
She walked into the bedroom with enough noise to wake him.
“Time to wash and get dressed. The sun is near the horizon already. Drying these clothes had to be speeded a bit by hanging before a fire,“ she said as she held up the coat, “but I think Tem and I did an excellent job.”
The sleep had been short enough to rest him but not deep enough to leave him in a brain fog. He rinsed his mouth with some water, put on the clothes, applied his eye makeup, and was ready to leave.
Asenath changed from her daily dress to another that was almost identical, but more colorful and obviously of new material. The one piece full length dress held by two straps allowed for a quick change of clothing. Normally, the simplicity of dress was balanced by her more lengthy time with cosmetics. This afternoon, however, she made do with what she had applied earlier.
They briskly walked the distance to the other side of The Residence where the royal quarters and entertainment rooms were located. The smaller of the two rooms used for dining sufficed for the six participants.
The king, the first queen (as Weret was known), Potiphar, and Zelicha stood near the entrance engaged in a conversation, evidently one involving humor as they were laughing, each holding a cup of wine.
The scene was the most relaxed setting in which Joseph had ever seen the king. Weret appeared to be chiding him about something.
Joseph and Asenath were acknowledged and invited to join the circle. Joseph was introduced to the queen, the only pair who had not met before this occasion.
“Your reputation has preceded you and I look forward to hearing of your experiences, Zaphnath-Paaneah.” Glancing at her husband, she asked, “Or may I simply call him Joseph?”
“Please call him Joseph. We are informal here, and I would be most offended if you began calling me Khakhaeperre or required that I call you Khnumetneferhedjetweret.”
After the king had spoken, Joseph gave a slight bow to Weret. “I feel that I have already met you by the compliments on your beauty and intelligence that I have heard in my travels through your kingdom. And I am honored to be known to you as Joseph.”
Other than brief eye contact and a nod of recognition as he had done with Potiphar and the king, Joseph gave no other notice of Zelicha. She was to him as the others in the small circle.
Senusret suggested that they go ahead and be seated. Wine would be brought for the new arrivals and food would follow soon.
The table was set for six. The chairs were of imported oak with woven reed seats. The cushions on the seat and back of each chair made for one of the more comfortable dinners that Joseph had experienced among his travels to the wealthy of Egypt.
The meal, when it finally arrived after fruit and then more wine, included antelope and a variety of vegetables cooked with savory herbs. The antelope they were told, had been killed by the king on his most recent hunt in The Fayum.
Conversation was varied, although the king did ask Joseph about his trip to the delta. Joseph gave few details, although he did describe a rather interesting dinner with the governor of the eighth district.
“The meeting with the governor in the afternoon had gone well. Of course, he had objected strenuously to the increased tax, and had then fallen back to objecting to the size of the increase after Joseph’s counter-arguments.
“He invited me to join him for dinner, along with two his aides. A servant brought out a very nice platter of vegetables and bread with a side of fish.
“Before anyone could begin eating, the governor said, ‘Of course, we shall have to get used to the one-fifth tax of the king.’ He gave a hand signal to the head servant.
“The head servant and three others in the background came up to each of us at the table and removed the bread from our plates.
‘I believe that is about one-fifth of your meal, gentlemen. Enjoy what is left, courtesy of the king.’”
“How did you respond?” asked Potiphar, leaning forward with great interest.
“I protested of course. ‘Governor, the one-fifth comes from your surplus yield in a bountiful year. You should have given us more than we could eat before removing the one-fifth.’
“His aides gave a suppressed laugh, but the governor was not so affected by the comment, at least, not at first. Finding he had no response, he finally shrugged and laughed. Then he signaled for the servant to bring back what had been taken.”
Everyone laughed appropriately, but everyone knew that such exchanges were like skirmishes in a larger battle. A victory simply meant there would be more skirmishes while a loss would have yielded ground and meant more unfavorable conditions for battles ahead. Keeping everyone focused on the larger picture of preparation for an enduring famine would be difficult.
“One of the more interesting things I have learned in my travels,” Joseph concluded, “is that rather than see the benefit of knowing of the coming famine and preparing for it, the wealthy who are taxed see only blame for the king who prepares for a difficult future.”
“Perhaps that is our human tendency, to place blame, and to place it on the most convenient rather than on the most correct cause,” observed Weret.
“There is the joke that speaks of our tendency to blame,” offered Potiphar. “When you see a person reacting calmly while everything is crashing down around them and there is panic in the streets, you know that he knows who to blame.”
Polite chuckles acknowledged that humor could be an effective and non-threatening way to understand reality.
Joseph had been relatively quiet other than when asked to speak of his trip, so he took the opportunity to relate another story.
“Blame is an intoxicating thing, and it can make us forget who we really are.
“When I was young, I was my father’s favorite. My ten older brothers did not take kindly to this fact, especially since I flaunted it in their faces. Oh, I didn’t mean to taunt them. I was ignorant of the larger picture, of the feelings of other people, and of how the future can change in an instant.
“Proudly wearing a many colored coat that my father had given to me, I came upon them in a field. They took off my beautiful coat and lowered me into a dry well, and there they left me.
“Some hours passed before they came back. I had a lot of time to think about dying in that hole. There also was a lot of time to cast blame. Of course, blame began with my brothers. But understanding finally brought the blame to myself.
“My brothers came back for me and lifted me out of the well. And though they did not apologize, and in fact treated me harshly by selling me to a traveling merchant, I have forgiven them. I understand that there were forces at work that were larger than them.”
Joseph had primarily addressed Potiphar, but as the story progressed, he had moved his gaze to each of the royal couple and to Asenath. As he concluded, his gaze went to Zelicha.
“If I were to see them today, I would make no mention of the event. I would simply act in the manner that our relationship as brothers dictates we should act.
“Apologies evidenced rather than spoken are those most genuinely accepted, and I hope that this understanding would be mutual.”
“That was a rather revealing story, Joseph,” Senusret said to break what the king considered an awkward silence, evidencing a little discomfort at the personal twist the conversation had taken. His tone expressed that he did not fully comprehend the relevance of this particular story, though he probably understood the story itself.
Joseph was still fixed on Zelicha as the king had begun his comment, and a tentative smile and nod of her head told him that his goal had been achieved.
Asenath gave a squeeze of encouragement to Joseph’s hand beneath the table.
Joseph did not see Potiphar’s face, but he knew that the captain understood, also.
Joseph now looked at the king as the king ended his statement. Perhaps the king was the only one who did not understand what had been spoken. Weret would surely tell him later.
“I apologize, your highness. Sometimes a story is the only way to express what cannot be said in another way.”
To change the subject, he continued, “Please tell me, I have heard that you hunt frequently in The Fayum. The talk is usually of lions, wild boar, and other dangerous animals. Do you often have the opportunity to also hunt wild game? This antelope we are having tonight is a wonderful dish.”
Senusret smiled. “As you say, stories are a good way to say something more easily than saying it outright. Dangerous animals make for better hunting images of a king than antelope.
“If truth be told, I would prefer to spend the bulk of my hunting time on the more practical game. But be clear, I have ordered that my tomb include depictions only of the lions and wild boar and such that I have killed.”
He smiled at what he felt had been a story showing his own vulnerability, but quickly added, “That is, of course, only for the ears of those in this room. I am a hunter only of the most ferocious animals beyond this circle!”
Senusret then began a story on an interesting hunting expedition in the marshland of Lake Fayum when he was young. This had been before the lake had been enlarged and the area was mostly wild. Potiphar was able to join in the reminiscence since he had served Senusret’s father. They became rather enthused recounting stories of the lions and wild boar there.
The women drifted into their own conversation in self-defense.
Although not the normal topic of conversation for the evening, Senusret did ask during the latter part of the evening what Joseph and Potiphar thought the reaction would be when the time came to collect the higher tax.
Both Joseph and Potiphar expressed concern and together they presented the solution, but details were for a larger group session. There were two basic recommendations, both ultimately resting on the fact that grain was the primary medium of exchange. Controlling the grain was equivalent to controlling Egypt.
First and foremost, make sure that the evidence of the king’s use of the extra grain collected was visible in the storage facilities being built. This they had foreseen in having the granaries built in the most populous areas, the work accomplished as much as possible with local people and resources. The purpose of all of this effort must continually be kept before the people, this was a hedge against the certainty of a future famine.
Second, there must be an army of scribes overseeing everything from planting (for the coming years) to harvest (which would soon begin). Accuracy of the available grain and of the king’s portion was imperative. This large bureaucratic structure must permeate the local economy so that the individual farmer, the wealthy landowners, and the king’s government were a single unit.
Senusret was in a particularly agreeable mood after what had been a very relaxed evening until this point. He made the suggestion (already hinted by one of the wives) that the whole council should be involved in the details, and that the three of them should continue to enjoy the evening.
He invited Wosret to come back and sit next to him. He signaled a servant to bring another cup of wine for each of them. He then proceeded to tell another hunting story, one from the Nubian area of the Nile.
Balancing the Present and the Future
Following their trips through all of Egypt, there was little that Joseph or Potiphar could accomplish themselves by additional travel. Encouragement and support from The Residence appeared most often in the form of scribes and construction superintendents who descended on district capitals. Increased interference from the central government generally was discouraged by local officials, but this situation brought construction and employment, an infusion of investment in the local economy.
Such a coordinated effort across a nation as extensive as Egypt had not been accomplished anywhere else, so The Stores Council had to use creativity and imagination in the beginning. Trial and error also played a role as material and labor requirements were met unevenly in some areas, but the storage sites were all functional if not complete when the harvest began.
The recorded notes of the first meeting following the return of Joseph and Potiphar follow. As edited by Joseph, they are vital to understanding the nature of Senusret II and the religion of Egypt at the time.
The council met in their usual room with the king present at its head.
The issues raised by the king became the agenda:
- The royal preparation for the famine
- The nobles’ preparation for the famine
- Preserving ma’at in prosperity and famine
The king outlined his concept of ma’at, the fairness, justice, mercy, equality and balance that he envisioned for his reign. As an outsider to Egyptian religion, it had taken some years for Joseph to understand how ma’at permeated not only the religion of Egypt, but also everyday life.
The reason was not just to do with ma’at’s values were good and noble, but that the goddess Ma’at determined whether a person would reach the afterlife by means of a very clear test: on her scale, she measured a person’s soul against the feather of truth. A person must have observed ma’at to reach the afterlife.
The king’s words sounded almost identical to those spoken soon after Joseph had interpreted his dreams as one dream foretelling of a future famine, but there was a difference.
The king’s first words were almost identical to those before. “We are planning the means to secure a buffer against the lean years, a means to store grain that none in Egypt may perish when the famine comes.
“As king, I am the symbol of Ra, the sun god, and Ma’at is my daughter. Ma’at will be my legacy. You know that ma’at is more than just balance, for it includes the concepts of truth, justice, morality, and mercy. And these words describe my reign.”
He paused for effect before continuing.
“I, the king of Egypt, provide the funds for preparation for the famine at my own expense, and this is fairness to the people.
“The people know of the famine to come. Those of wealth and resources must store grain that they might have food when the lean years come. Here you see the justice of requiring those who are able to store grain to do so.
“Each may secure his future on his own to the degree that he is able, or he may resort to using the resources of the king to provide for his future. This is mercy.
“Let this be clear through all the land: the king’s storage of grain will be available to all who require food. Ma’at requires equality before the king’s law, the foundation of order and ma’at. And the law tempered with mercy for those who hunger is the heart of ma’at. Let him who has grain eat his own. Let him who requires grain come to the king. As the herd or flock forages for food in good seasons, the caretaker provides food for them in the bad seasons.”
Joseph noted the shift in the king’s thinking. Gone was the harshness for the poor who had not the resources for storing food. In its place was a sympathy, almost an empathy with the poor and destitute.
When he had come to an understanding of ma’at, Joseph had marveled again at the complexity of the Egyptian religion while at the same time admiring the simplicity underlying the complexity.
Whether the Egyptian cosmology spoke of an innate yearning for the Creator and an understanding of His character, or whether God spoke into the hearts of the people His truth, Joseph did not know. Coupled with the dreams of the king and the understanding given to Joseph, he could not help but believe divine direction were ordering events even now.
Senusret’s pronouncement of his concern that ma’at be maintained at every level of both collection and disbursement of the grain was yet another confirmation.
He would have thought more on the king’s change of emphasis, but the reports from the different members were now beginning.
Khusebek had begun his report, speaking also for Neferu, who was in Upper Egypt ensuring the large granary at Thebes remained on schedule. He began by affirming that the major granaries would be operational in time for the harvest. Every location would have sufficient storage for at least the first year’s harvest and construction would continue through the second year.
Sebek-khu reported that construction of several barges had been completed. Arrangements had been made with owners of barges in the more populous areas to supplement the royal barges during the peak harvest season rather than build additional boats utilized only a very few weeks per year. Movement from barges to storage sites would be contracted, as needed.
Joseph and Potiphar gave slightly more detailed accounts of their journeys than they had given to the king in order to create the full context for the others. Their accounts gave understanding to the reality that preparation for the famine by the nobles would be good for the most part, although some would do so halfway and have insufficient supplies. Of course, those with lesser means would find storage of grain for the future at the expense of the present difficult if not impossible.
Irsu, Royal Treasurer, preceded his comments with the observation that the other parts of the plan were moving forward smoothly, but all was being done at the expense of the king without any offsetting income to the royal treasury.
He launched into his financial report, adhering strictly to the principles of scribes as reporters of numbers, not as commentators on moral repercussions.
Joseph sensed from his first words that Irsu had missed the king’s change of emphasis. Indeed, his tone of voice was that of a man who felt his words were the ones of primary importance and that the effort at famine relief depended on the Treasury. The accountant’s view of Ma’at was superficial, dealing with externals only, whereas the king (and the priests and much of society) held that concepts such as fairness, justice, equality, and mercy must permeate the entire being of a person – including a man’s job or a king’s reign.
Irsu’s first concern was the lack of royal resources to finance preparation for the famine throughout the seven years of good crops. There were now great commitments in expenditures for materials and workers without sufficient revenue to offset the expenses.
A second concern was that in spite of an extensive network of scribes throughout Egypt, more scribes were necessary than were currently employed by the king. Since the training of a scribe was on the order of a minimum of three to four years, new scribes could not simply be called into service. Without accurate accounting of the harvest, the tax and the amount of grain stored would be unknown quantities.
Irsu’s final concern was numbers showing the likelihood that depressed prices for the sale of grain during the good years, coupled with the inability of many Egyptians to pay for grain in the years of famine, spelled economic disaster.
As he explained the situation, higher prices for grain in the years of famine would result in highly profitable sales to wealthy foreigners. Irsu emphasized that the bulk of the grain must be reserved for this market. Such a policy was necessary for the king to recoup his expenses in preparing for the famine.
In summary, Irsu counseled restraint in additional plans, urging that those who did not prepare for the famine must pay the price. This was true for the nobleman and craftsman and farmer. Each would have access to grain at the prevailing price during the famine. With foreknowledge of the famine, each person was obliged to accept responsibility for his own future. This was ma’at’s balance.
Senusret, leaning forward to give emphasis to his words, was focused on Irsu as he began his response. Like the sun emerging from behind a cloud, the king banished the darkness of Irsu’s counsel.
“We are not here to allow the chaos of the desert to overtake the order of the Nile. Joseph’s God has a greater purpose for us. Let us review where a greater effort is needed to achieve our goal. Balance and fairness are the brothers of truth, justice, morality, and mercy, and they must not be separated.”
The king’s eyes had passed from one to the other around the table, and his final gaze again was fixed on Irsu.
Clearly uncomfortable, the Treasurer stated firmly with obvious defensiveness, “Numbers do not lie, and I report only those that I see.”
“Then let us do what we must to change the numbers,” the king said, his tone a command rather than a suggestion.
The king rose. “I will leave resolution of Irsu’s concerns in your hands. Inform me of your proposals.”
Senusret walked out of the room. Having risen when he stood up, they all stood. For a moment, everyone was focused on the empty doorway.
Joseph broke the spell. “We have our instructions. Let’s address these concerns in more detail.”
As they all resumed their places at the table, Joseph asked Irsu, “Will we run out of resources before the harvest?”
Clearly upset by the direction the meeting had taken, Irsu made a conscious effort to restore his position as the representative of facts.
“No, but by the third year our normal supply of grain will be depleted and we will have to draw from what the king wants set aside from the harvest of his own land.”
“You are making some assumptions with this forecast,” Potiphar stated. “What are those assumptions?”
“Of course there are assumptions about the future. But first, start with the fact that we are drawing down our grain reserves now. Because grain is the primary medium of exchange for buying and selling, as well as paying laborers, that is our focus.
“Second, we assume that the harvests will be good and we will need the normal amount of grain for our own purposes. Withholding one-fifth of what should be a bumper crop leaves an unknown amount for our annual use. If there is no extra for use to fund the building projects, we will further deplete the granaries.
“Third, if there is any surplus grain beyond our needs, the prices will be low in a year of a good harvest. If this is true in neighboring countries also, we will have little revenue from sales even if we have enough to export.
“There is nothing as far as I can see that will eliminate the recurring deficit. This will lead to total depletion of the regular granaries and the need to tap into the grain reserved for the famine.”
The argument appeared to be sound, but Joseph sensed something was wrong about the assumptions. Thoughts of the visit he and Teyma had with Ti came to mind. The merchant had outlined the solution to at least a major part of their dilemma. Teyma did have a reason for taking Joseph to the ailing Ti!
“Let’s review and think out loud about what will happen,” suggested Joseph.
“There will be a good harvest, and even with one-fifth going into storage for the famine, there should still be more than a regular harvest for consumption, correct?”
“Yes,” said Khusebek, “but let’s look at the actions of the wealthy landowners, too. If they are to hold back their own one-fifth of the harvest for themselves and their own people, will they have enough grain left to last through the year?
“And if they do not have anything extra to sell, where will the people of the cities buy food? The royal farms cannot store grain and meet this extra demand, also.”
Irsu jumped on that bandwagon. “That is part of my point. Now, even in a year of a very good harvest, we are creating a shortage by saving up so much grain. Prices will rise in the cities, and there will be unrest. We will create riots and chaos, the opposite of the calm and ma’at the king advocates!”
Joseph held up a hand. “Wait! Let’s look at this more closely. If prices are up in Egypt because of a good harvest, but prices for grain are low in the east, do we have an opportunity here?”
There was silence. “Explain what you mean,” said Potiphar.
“If we do not have a surplus for sale in Egypt after we have saved grain for the famine, we will have higher prices here, and the people will become restless. But the prices in the east will be low because of their good harvest, correct?”
“Yes, that is what we have stated so clearly,” said Irsu, again defensive.
“Why can the king not buy cheap grain in the east and then sell it in Egypt to keep prices low and maintain ma’at?”
Sebek-khu shook his head. “Irsu says our resources are already running low. How can we afford to transport it over land from the east and then pay for barges to distribute it to the people of Egypt?”
Irsu saw the direction of the discussion and offered a grudging agreement. “We have enough resources to buy the grain. We would have a problem with running low, but when we sell to the people in Egypt, we sell based on the cheap imports rather than our expensive domestic grain. We can even sell at a cost high enough to cover transportation.” His countenance had brightened somewhat as he made the last statement.
Joseph smiled, moving his gaze to encompass the whole group. “I knew you would find a solution.
“In summary, we collect one-fifth of the harvest. This, coupled with whatever amount the landowners store, drives up prices here in Egypt. We buy the surplus grain from the east at the low prices of a grain market with too much supply. We sell at a slightly higher price in Egypt to cover our costs, but at a price still reasonable to the people of the cities.”
There was great relief at discovering what had turned out to be a simple solution, that is, a simple solution if there assumptions were correct.
Irsu then reminded them, “But there is the second concern, the lack of sufficient scribes.”
There was some discussion on this point, but no simple solution presented itself. Because the discussion on resources and the price of grain had consumed so much of their day, Joseph suggested they return to the issue of scribes on the following day. A time was set to meet in the morning and the meeting was adjourned.
The Vital Other Half
With the journey completed only the day before, followed by dinner with the king that evening, and now a full day of working on the plans already set in motion, Joseph was beyond exhausted.
The thought occurred to him for the first time that perhaps this was an introduction to old age. After all, thirty was considered the age of physical and mental maturity, the appropriate minimal age for a leader. Perhaps this was the age at which his energy would peak.
No, he put aside that thought. As he made his way to his home just a short distance within The Residence, he found the spring in his step and a sense of energy returning. The farther behind the meeting room, the greater his energy level. Sitting in a meeting all day must be equally tiring as harvesting all day in The Fayum – it was just a different tiredness.
A short time later, Joseph and Asenath descended to the communal dining area.
Although they had their own table in the common dining area, Joseph found himself every few minutes responding to people welcoming him back and asking polite questions about his journey. He had said that he had two things, in particular, that he would like to talk about at dinner, but he never got to the first one.
As they tried to carry on a conversation, Asenath found herself smiling at her husband’s frustration. Following one such interaction, she suggested they take some bread and a cup up to the roof. Not yet dark and with the breeze, it would be pleasant enough and not yet populated.
Joseph welcomed the invitation and they made their way up the stairs. Indeed, up on the roof was peaceful as could be. An occasional bird, a muffled voice now and again from below, but otherwise quiet, the setting seemed perfect.
Each concluded their part of the conversation they had attempted below, speaking of the events during their separation.
As Asenath spoke of spending some time with the queen and Zelicha on several occasions, Joseph realized the source of the change in the king’s approach to the famine based on a deeper understanding of ma’at.
“By any chance, did you happen to bring up the subject of how the poor will fare during the famine?”
“What do you mean?” she asked innocently.
“It is just that the king spoke today of ma’at being the legacy he desired for his reign. He sounds somewhat different from a few months ago when he first spoke of the process of distributing grain during the famine.”
“That is interesting,” said Asenath. Prompting her husband to speak more of his observation, she asked, “How did he express this change of heart?”
“His talk of mercy before was that there was a balance to be made between justice and mercy. But when he spoke of ma’at today, he said it was more than balance, that it was truth, justice, morality, and mercy. I have never heard him speak of mercy but that one time months ago, and then it was only a word in a list he had learned.”
His gaze now went out over the wall of The Residence to the houses of the workers who served the king and his staff and guests. “But today when he spoke the word, it was experiential, an active word with real life application rather than a theoretical concept.”
Joseph paused as he thought how he should phrase his observation. “Before, he viewed ma’at and equality as a nobleman. Now he speaks of ma’at from the perspective of the small farmer, the craftsman, and those who are landless and without resources.”
He understood what he was trying to express now and summarized.
Addressing Asenath directly, he said, “I do not think he blames those in need as he seemed to do a few months ago. I thought perhaps that you had mentioned forgiveness to the queen. Your observation gave me a new perspective on this particular dynamic between the rich and the poor. Such an understanding seems to have reached the king.”
He saw the sun was well below the horizon, a pale gentle orange stain remaining on the edge of a darkening sky. When he looked back at Asenath, she was almost laughing.
“You are very astute, my husband. Yes, we talked about forgiving people for being where they are at any given moment, and Weret understood immediately. She expressed frustration at her husband’s lack of understanding. I told her of our conversation.”
Joseph nodded. “Well done! Apparently she was effective in the use of her powers of persuasion. The king was quite committed to the concept of fairness and mercy in the distribution of grain. Indeed, he will have it no other way.”
“Never underestimate the influence of a wife, Joseph. A woman can be quite subtle, and the man will not even know his mind has been changed. I think we are born with this ability, just as men are born with their susceptibility.”
“Perhaps I should sit at your feet and learn the true ways of the world,” said Joseph as he rose from his seat and sat at her feet.
“But it was you who taught me forgiveness! When I learned of my birth family, I had to learn a new perspective. That is not easy.
“And the actions of your brothers taught you a new perspective, and that was not easy either.
“And if I were to share a woman’s perspective with you in the language of a woman, how could you as a man even begin to understand?
“Men accomplish great feats and are skilled in the ways of nature out there in the physical world,” she said, gesturing beyond the wall. “Women are skilled in the arts of listening and persuading, masters of the inner world,” her hand now resting upon her heart.
She eased herself down from her seat to sit beside him on the floor of the roof. “I will share with you a gentle truth: You are my other half, as I am your other half. If we are joined together, we do not need to try to become what the other already is.”
Joseph was quiet for only a second or two before Asenath cleared her throat, as if she were trying to get his attention. “I gave you a gentle truth, and I await my kiss.”
Joseph said, “But I am never sure when a gentle truth deserves a kiss anymore.”
Asenath smiled. “Good,” she said. “As I have said, I do not want you to take me for granted.”
She allowed him a kiss before initiating a new conversation. “You said there were two things that you wanted to discuss at dinner. What was the other one?”
The sudden change in direction caught Joseph off guard. He recovered and said, “Oh, it is nothing we need to discuss. We just ended the meeting today stumped on an issue, but it is not really a topic for a pleasant evening on the roof.”
They were still seated side by side, but they had moved with their backs to the wall and gazing up to a moonless starry sky.
“Go ahead,” she said, turning somewhat so that she halfway faced him. “Now you have me curious.”
Reluctantly, Joseph said, “Irsu says there are not enough scribes for the work that has to be done. And it takes so long to train a scribe, there is not time to train new ones. He says it takes years of training, and with what I have learned of the business, he is correct.”
“Your problem is a shortage of scribes, then?”
“That sums it up very well.”
“Did you know that I was trained as a scribe?” she asked.
Surprised, Joseph now turned so that he halfway faced her, also.
“Yes, that is standard training for the priesthood. I don’t know if my father thought I might become a priestess, or if it was in preparation for marrying a priest, but he had me trained.” She laughed. “Now that I think about it, maybe it was just to keep me busy because I followed him everywhere he went in the temple.”
“Are all priests also scribes, then?”
“Yes, but of course, all scribes are not priests. There are even women doctors who are scribes, because they must learn to read the incantations or prayers and then use the appropriate ones.”
“If you are volunteering your services as scribe, I accept,” said Joseph. “But beyond your services, how does this help our problem? I do not think we can divert the work of the priests into becoming scribes for the king.”
“No, but you know of the many men and women who serve as priests and priestesses for one month out of four. Many were in training for the priesthood and received some or all of the scribal training.
“Of course, they learned only what was required for the work of the temples. This included copying the sacred texts, but it also included recording the accounts for the crops and the livestock, as well as the flow of offerings from people and the payment to vendors. They would not be familiar with the writings of royal edicts and laws, but they understand the ledgers of accounts. Is there a way that you could utilize their services?”
Joseph recognized the potential, but finding such people quickly and enticing them to join the king’s service might be a challenge considering the limited time. He would talk with Irsu. Perhaps the current scribes would know of potential candidates in their communities.
Still leaning back against the wall and looking at the stars above, he reached over and took Asenath’s hand in his own. “How is my other half tonight?”
“I am always whole when we are together. That is another simple truth.” And she gave him a gentle kiss.
There Is a Season for Everything
The harvest was indeed a good one, and the flood that followed gave promise of a good second year.
Irsu’s concerns about the Treasury proved unfounded.
The collection of normal taxes from the craftsmen, merchants, and those of other professions always brought a variety of goods to the Treasury. Since these workers did not have grain, the taxes were calculated in grain equivalents. These goods ranged from bolts of linen to jewelry, from pottery to cosmetics.
Because Egypt had chosen not to export grain but to import grain, these items became the medium of exchange, the means of buying grain from foreigners.
The value of these goods remained as always but, as predicted, the grain with which they were purchased from the Asiatics was cheaper than normal. Thus, more grain must be paid for the bolt of linen or the work of the jewelers.
This influx of cheap grain, mixed with the small amount of high priced Egyptian available to the market, lowered grain prices in Egypt but kept the transaction profitable for the king, allowing him to finance the storage of grain. This pattern held to varying degrees for each of the following six years, as well.
Irsu’s second concern, a shortage of scribes, never developed because of the existing “army of scribes.” Indeed, there was a common belief that the scribes outnumbered the army, and many thought that the scribes did more to enforce order than the army. And that was judged a good thing, that the economic interests of all were maintained in balance between the needs of the people for their individual lives and the requirement for the king to distribute to those who were reliant on the support of others.
So even though there were few additional scribes acquired from those trained in the skill in the temples, the efficient bureaucracy already in place adjusted to the increased workload.
Irsu’s third concern had been that the cost of mercy was too high and unaffordable considering economic events. This also was eliminated by the profitable purchase of cheap eastern grain.
One evening as they sat on the roof gazing into the heavens on another moonless night, Joseph mentioned the positive outcomes compared with Irsu’s predictions. He briefly described how none of what Irsu had feared had occurred.
Asenath sympathized with Irsu. “I am sure that these concepts were not taught in the school for scribes. What one person views as impossible, another person may see as inevitable. As you can attest, the future is an unknown that may prove far better than could have been foretold. Do we not each see reality differently?”
Joseph had to agree. Although his interpretation of others’ dreams had been given to him, the precise means of how his own dreams could become reality had never been revealed in advance. He saw the outcome represented in the dream, but the path to that end might still remain hidden.
Asenath said, “You see that it is another moonless night. There have been three full moons since we sat in this place and looked at a moonless sky, but I have known only one of the full moons.”
Joseph was puzzled. Surely this was a riddle, but one for which he was supposed to know the answer. He struggled with how to respond.
“I have not been counting, but we have been to the roof very frequently. How could you – we – have missed two full moons?”
“No, it is only I who have missed the full moons. This happens to married women on occasion.”
Joseph understood. Asenath was pregnant.