The closing decades of the 14th century BCE were an age of upheaval across the Near East. In Egypt, Akhenaten’s radical devotion to the Aten upended centuries of religious tradition and coincided with a sharp decline in imperial authority abroad. His death brought a turbulent succession marked by intrigue, possible assassination, and instability at court. To the north, Šuppiluliuma I of Hatti pressed hard into Syria: Ugarit, once balanced between Egypt and Hatti, shifted firmly into the Hittite orbit, while other Egyptian vassals defected, further eroding Egypt’s influence. Meanwhile, the Mitanni kingdom, squeezed between Hittite ambition and Assyrian resurgence, dwindled into a shadow of its former power.
Amid this shifting landscape, Egypt itself was undergoing a profound transformation. At its center stood Amenhotep IV, later Akhenaten, whose reign redefined Egypt’s gods and unsettled its foreign commitments.
Within this convergence of religious, political, and military turmoil, the ancient theme of chaoskampf, the struggle against chaos, takes on a striking historical form.
Chaos appeared in two guises. The first was passive, primordial chaos: the undifferentiated state before creation. Myths spoke of the mingled waters of Apsu and Tiamat in the Babylonian Enuma Elish, the boundless deep in the Sumerian Eridu Genesis, or the tohu wa-bohu, the formless void, of Genesis 1.
The second was active, dynamic chaos, dramatized as cosmic combat. Baal’s clash with Yam in the Ugaritic cycle, Marduk’s battle with Tiamat in the Enuma Elish, and Teshub’s contest with Illuyanka in the Hittite myth all echo this pattern. These images of struggle and domination, traceable back to Sargon the Great, would have resonated among the peoples of the Levant, who lived amid warring empires and unending instability. For them, chaoskampf was both a myth and a lived reality.
Assyria Breaks Free: c. 1360-1350 BCE
A revolt in Assyria under Ashur-uballit I effectively removed Mitanni’s eastern territories from Mitanni control. Eric Cline argues this occurred shortly before the commencement of Hittite aggression, about 1360 BCE,[1] while Marc Van De Mieroop dates coincide with the start of Šuppiluliuma’s first campaign against Mitanni interests[2]. But in either case, the outcome was the same: Mitanni was significantly weakened from two sides, from the east by Assyria and from the north by the Hittites.
Ashur-uballit would begin correspondence with the Great Kings of the Near East[3], but Burna-Buriaš II of Babylon protested, claiming Assyria as a Babylonian vassal[4]. Babylon could not enforce its claim over Assyria, solidifying Assyria’s new independent status. Future events would indicate that Babylon did not have the strength to back up its boast.
The Heretic Pharaoh, The First Five Years: c. 1353-1348 BCE
Although some scholars propose a co-regency between Amenhotep III and IV[5], prevailing evidence argues otherwise. Explanations for Egypt’s faltering foreign policy range from a youthful king absorbed in religious reform to overstretched state resources or waning strategic interest abroad[6]. But whatever the case, Egypt still stood as Mitanni’s ally, yet when Šuppiluliuma advanced into northern Syria, Egypt mounted no military response to defend its ally. By the time Amenhotep IV had celebrated his first jubilee, Šuppiluliuma was about to begin his Syrian campaigns.
The Sed Festival was traditionally celebrated in the 30th year; some Pharaohs marked it earlier. Akhenaten’s festival in his 3rd or 4th year was unusually early, though not unprecedented[7]. Pharaoh Amenhotep IV held his first in his 3rd or possibly 4th regnal year. The following are the notable differences in his jubilee: [8]
| Feature | Standard Sed Festival | Amenhotep IV (Akhenaten) Sed Festival |
| Ritual race | King runs around a rectangular course holding the “Secret of the Two Partners”/Will of his father, symbolizing control of the land | Largely absent in reliefs; symbolic actions replaced by Aten-centric motifs |
| Arrow-shooting to four directions | Symbolizes universal kingship | Omitted along with enthronement motifs |
| Divine presence | Strong, multiple gods: Amun, Ptah, Thoth, Osiris, Hathor, Selkit | Aten is central; traditional gods are absent; rays replace their roles |
| Ceremony length | Single or limited ceremonies, emphasizing cosmic renewal | Extended multi-day processions visiting shrines, Upper and Lower Egypt, separately |
| Identification of participants | Courtiers and priests are named, emphasizing historicity | Only the royal family is named; others are defined by function alone |
| Banquets and offerings | Standard royal banquets; offerings to gods; divine endorsement | Banquets emphasized. Window of Appearance (public audience) features the king and queen. Public largesse demonstrates loyalty. Asiatic musicians and unusual performers highlight innovation |
| Renewal of kingship | Through traditional deities and cosmic order | Exclusively through Aten; the king and queen, as unique mediators, inaugurated Atenism rather than the traditional jubilee |
If these ritual deviations seemed radical in abstraction, their impact was even more jarring in practice. The following fictionalized “primary source” attempts to capture how a contemporary Egyptian might have reacted to such a festival.
I have seen many festivals, but never one such as this.
I have served Pharaohs since the days of Amenhotep the Magnificent. I know the rites. I know the chants. I know the long procession of the gods, the king’s renewal of strength before them. It is a rhythm older than memory, Egypt’s breath itself.
But at this festival… the rhythm was broken.
No Amun. No Montu. No Osiris. The shrines of the gods remained silent. Their banners never departed from the sanctuaries.
Aten alone was raised up. Not as a falcon. Not as the Hidden One who listens in Thebes. But as the sun-disk, a blinding circle in the sky. His rays stretched down like fingers, grasping only Pharaoh and his Great Wife.
Yes, the queen! Nefertiti herself stood beside him, as though she too bore the Double Crown. Equal in stature? Equal in blessing? We watched, astonished, as Aten’s rays touched her as they touched him.
The hymns were strange, unfamiliar. Not the words of our fathers. Not the voices that bind the Two Lands to Maat. Not the rites of remembrance. They spoke only of Aten, a god without face, without body, known only through Pharaoh.
I saw the eyes of the priests of Amun. They were wide, uncertain. To speak even a word against Pharaoh is ruin. Yet I felt their hearts. Mine beat the same: confusion, unease.
This was not the renewal of the divine king. This was something else.
And I wonder now… if the gods themselves turned away from that ceremony, as we too were compelled to turn.
Aten already had a modest place in Egyptian religion before Amenhotep IV, and his elevation of the solar disk built on earlier royal experimentation. Before the reign of Thutmose IV, Aten was little more than a descriptive epithet of the sun god Ra[9], a minor manifestation within the broader solar cult. Under Thutmose IV and especially Amenhotep III, Aten’s prominence increased. Amenhotep III even commissioned a temple to Aten at Karnak, signalling royal interest, though the deity’s cult remained largely confined to the court and never developed an independent priesthood or popular following.
But elevated by Amenhotep IV into the supreme deity of Egypt, this had the effect of displacing the traditional pantheon, undermining the authority of the established priesthood. By his fourth regnal year, Aten’s titulary assumed a more syncretic formulation:
- Living Re-Horakhty, who rejoices in the horizon in his name of Shu, who is Aten [10]
This construction sought to associate the new god with older, well-established deities such as Re-Horakhty and Shu, thereby mitigating the appearance of rupture and presenting Atenism as a legitimate extension of existing tradition. Soon thereafter, plans were initiated to establish a new cult center at Akhetaten (modern Amarna), conceived as the visible seat of the Aten’s worship.
For the Egyptian populace and elite, removal of familiar gods disrupted long-standing ritual practices and the social order embedded in the cults. For foreign allies such as Mitanni, and observers like Šuppiluliuma of Hatti, Akhenaten’s exclusive focus on Aten and his internal reforms signaled a court increasingly absorbed in ideology, weakening Egypt’s diplomatic and military responsiveness. In other words, whether his religion is labeled as monotheistic, henotheistic, or monolatrous, the practical effect was a concentration of power around the king and Aten, leaving traditional structures neglected and foreign policy vulnerable. Maat had been challenged, and the reforms ushered in Isfet; the kingdom was no longer aligned with cosmic harmony.
This is further emphasized by the new artistic tradition that emerged during this period, known as the Amarna style[11]. It represented a sharp departure from traditional Egyptian conventions. The Pharaoh was portrayed with elongated and exaggerated features: swollen chest, wide hips, an extended neck, and a distended abdomen. Overhead was the solar disk with the rays of Aten extending towards Akhenaten and Nefertiti[12].
These depictions set him apart from ordinary Egyptians, emphasizing his singularity. The androgynous form carried profound religious meaning, symbolizing the Pharaoh as a divine being who embodied both the masculine and feminine principles of creation. This aesthetic of the Amarna style was also extended to Nefertiti by the 4th regnal year underscoring her elevated status alongside the king.
Many scholars conclude that Akhenaten’s reforms were a calculated effort to curtail the influence of the priesthood and restore authority to the monarchy[13]. Funds were diverted from other cults to the Cult of Aten[14]. One of the clearest indicators of this political-religious agenda appears in the 4th regnal year, when he altered both his titulary and the formal name of the god Aten within the royal cartouches[15].
In the 5th regnal year, Amenhotep IV adopted the name Akhenaten. This act marked the formal consolidation of his religious reforms[16]. From this point onward, construction of a new capital commenced, dedicated to the cult of Aten. The following year would be designated the official capital, but the transfer to the new capital would be gradual.
And it was in these early years of Amenhotep IV’s reign Šuppiluliuma first entered into correspondence with the Pharaoh, marking the earliest known direct exchange between Egypt and Ḫatti[17]. The letter claims Šuppiluliuma and Amenhotep III had sought to normalize relations, but no earlier evidence of contact between Egypt and Ḫatti has survived, leaving the claim unverifiable. Whether or not normalization of relations was initiated under Amenhotep III or Akhenaten, the aim was clear: Šuppiluliuma sought to secure the goodwill of the Pharaoh shortly before his campaign to dismantle Mitanni.
Šuppiluliuma’s letter to Amenhotep IV coincides with Tušratta’s increasingly desperate appeals to the Pharaoh. Tušratta’s messages show a steady escalation of frustration with the Pharaoh: first, he laments neglect by the Egyptian court[18], then complains of a lack of cordiality[19] , protesting the detention of his envoys[20], and finally accuses Egypt of ignoring him altogether[21].
Egypt’s Experiment with Monotheism (The Next Seven Years): c. 1348 to 1341 BCE
The king’s personal change from Amenhotep (“Amun is satisfied”) to Akhenaten (“Effective for Aten”) [22] in his 5th regnal year was meaningful, but minor in comparison to the theological implications of becoming “Living in Ma’at.”
In Egyptian religion, Ma’at represented cosmic order, a task the Pharaoh was charged with upholding. Under these reforms, no longer was the Pharaoh simply responsible for upholding Ma’at, but was the embodiment of it. The priesthood of Amun-Ra had become wealthy and politically powerful, rivaling the pharaoh’s own authority. The reforms were a direct challenge to that power structure, regardless of whether the intent was deliberate[23] or not.
The Amarna style would also be extended to the daughters of Akhenaten and Nefertiti. Scenes showed Akhenaten, Nefertiti, and their daughters in intimate family settings, a striking break from the rigid formality usually expected of royal imagery.
Additionally, Aten’s ever-evolving titulary in the 9th regnal year would have been immediately apparent to the priesthood, serving as an unmistakable declaration against the traditional order[24].
- Early Formulation of Aten’s Name: “Living Re-Horakhty, who rejoices in the horizon in his name Shu-Re who is Aten.” This expression was deliberately syncretic, linking Aten with well-established deities such as Re and Horus. The effect was to frame the new cult as a continuation, softening its introduction and reducing potential resistance.
- Later Formulation of Aten’s Name: “Living Re, ruler of the horizon, who rejoices in the horizon.” In this revised version, references to other deities, most notably Shu and Horakhty, were removed entirely.
This alteration represented a theological statement. What began as an effort to integrate the new cult within Egypt’s broader religious framework had become an unambiguous rejection of the traditional pantheon and, by extension, of the priesthoods that sustained it. In this way, the change in Aten’s titulary functioned as both a religious manifesto and a political weapon.
In his early years, Akhenaten conscripted laborers at unprecedented levels. His focus seemed single-minded, as the start of the project was concentrated at Ipet-sut, known today as Karnak. Akhenaten’s new monuments were dedicated solely to the Egyptian god Aten. The design of these structures suggests he sought to associate himself with creation itself[25]. This was a direct rejection of the Amun cult.
Within this new religious vision, the Pharaoh was elevated as the sole intermediary with Aten, virtually a co-regent with the god and himself deified[26]. The divine nature of kingship had been a feature of Egypt since the Old Kingdom, but never in such an explicit form. What was new was the overt presentation of the king as the god’s partner in rule. Soon after, Aten would proclaim the only deity permitted for worship in Egypt, but access to him was mediated exclusively through the Pharaoh[27].
The project required substantial resources: gardens and irrigation systems were installed, the largest building being the Great Temple of the Aten, alongside a Great Palace, the Royal Family Temple, a mansion, harem, barracks, and administrative buildings. Among these buildings was the House of Correspondence with the Pharaoh[28], where the Amarna letters were kept. Extravagant murals and gilded stonework adorned these structures, all dedicated to Aten[29]. This new cult center placed a considerable burden on state resources[30].
By the 12th regnal year, Akhet-Aten was likely a fully functioning capital[31].
The First Syrian Campaign/The Great Syrian War: c. 1345-1340 BCE
While Akhenaten was preoccupied with his religious reforms in Egypt, Šuppiluliuma prepared to launch a campaign that changed the Near East. This war aimed at dismantling the kingdom of Mitanni and asserting Hittite dominance over northern Syria. These events are likely coincidental. Akhenaten would also begin receiving correspondence from Aziru of Amurru[32], though this is an approximation and cannot be precisely synchronized with the first campaign.
Egyptian authority, weakened by Abdi-AšIrati’s previous seizure of the lands around Sumur, temporarily recovered the region, undone by Abdi-Aširta’s successors on the eve of the Hittite campaign[33]. Aziru, the new vassal ruler of Amurru and a son of Abdi-AšIrati, began corresponding with Akhenaten[34]. While the timing of his letters and the Hittite advance was coincidental rather than causal, the situation would ultimately play to the Hittites’ advantage, as Egyptian responses remained limited.
The initial campaign is sometimes referred to as the “First Syrian War” or “The One-Year War”, in which Šuppiluliuma claims to have “plundered all of these lands in one year and brought them to Hatti,” [35] but this is arguably misleading. Many scholars read the evidence as a series of concentrated campaigns that may have extended beyond a single calendar year[36]. The best approximation places the start of this campaign c. 1345 BCE, though this remains tentative, making it difficult to align with other key events such as Akhenaten’s early reign. That’s why modern historians emphasize reconstructing the “atmosphere” of Syria in the 14th century BCE rather than claiming precise synchronisms.
Diplomatic gestures preceded this military campaign. Šuppiluliuma sent a correspondence to Nuhašše. Although no copy of that correspondence remains, King Addu-nirari of Nuhašše claims he was offered terms of vassalage[37]. Under normal circumstances, Addu-nirari would have appealed to Tušratta of Mitanni for assistance. Instead, bypassing Tušratta entirely, he appealed directly to the Pharaoh. This plea to the Pharaoh indicates an early sign of Mitanni’s vulnerability and Šuppiluliuma’s rising coercive power.
There is reason to believe there was at least an implied threat in this offer of vassalage, and the offer would mark the start of the Hittite campaign. The Hittites stopped being a background threat and began actively asserting their authority over northern Syria.
The surviving Deeds of Šuppiluliuma I[38], written by his son Mursili II, do not detail most of the events of the initial campaign but rather the latter events of the Great Syrian War[39], of which the initial campaigns were part. Fragments of the campaign can still be inferred from treaties and letters. The prologue to the Treaty of Šuppiluliuma I with Šattiwaza of Mitanni and the Treaty of Šuppiluliuma I with Tette of Nuḫašše record Hittite movement through northern Syria and as far south as Mount Lebanon[40], a region that included Ugarit. Additional evidence comes from Amarna Letters, sent from Egyptian vassals, and the Qaṭna letters, but these letters complicate this picture.
Amicable relations were held between Ugarit and Egypt during the reign of Amenhotep III[41], and later under Amenhotep IV[42]. Ugarit was a major Canaanite city-state on the Syrian coast. Its strategic location, fertile lands, abundant natural resources, and renowned metallurgical skills made it a wealthy, connecting to Mesopotamia via Aleppo and the Mediterranean through the sea[43]. A military threat to Ugarit could have risked provoking Egypt. An attack on Ugarit might have forced the Hittites into a two-front war against Egypt and Mitanni; however, there is no evidence of an immediate direct military threat to Ugarit. Immediate interests seemed more focused on the Mitanni holdings than the Egyptian holdings, as the Hittites would initially bypass Ugarit; however, in time, this would change.
Geographically, Byblos lay on the coast along the western foothills of Mount Lebanon, with Beirut to the north and Tyre and Sidon to the south, all situated along the same coastal corridor with Ugarit. Rib-Hadda of Byblos warned Pharaoh about activities in this region. He would report that the sons of Abdi-Aširta had taken many of the smaller towns of Lebanon[44], while the Hittites were burning cities[45]. The city states won back by Egypt from Abdi-Aširta were lost again[46], and towns further north were allied with the Habiru[47]. Inland from Byblos, Akizzi of Qaṭna, an Egyptian vassal and buffer state, likewise pleaded for Egyptian troops to resist Hittite advances[48]. He notes that some of his own townspeople were sympathetic to Aziru[49] and that Egyptian messengers had visited Mitanni, noting hostility towards Hatti from the local kings, all of whom were at the disposal of Egypt[50]. Aziru[51] confirmed the feats, but he appears to welcome the Hittite advance.
Through Rib-Hadda’s pleas, Egypt sent a contingent of royal archers to assist. Unfortunately, they were killed, and Pharaoh was clear that Rib-Hadda would now need to “Guard Yourself”, blaming Rib-Hadda for their death[52]. Sidon and Beirut were no longer aligned with Egypt but details are vague however a later correspondence in Amarna Letter EA 137 would imply a neutral withdrawal. Byblos was alone and surrounded[53] while the Hittites began their campaign.
Šuppiluliuma reports that the campaign was justified on two accounts. First, Tušratta had attacked Nuhašše, a confederation of city-states between Aleppo to the north, Qutna to the south, and between the Euphrates and Orontes Rivers. Second, the land of Isuwa, situated to the southeast of the Hittite heartland, was “hostile” to Šuppiluliuma[54].
According to Trevor Bryce[55] and Donald Redford[56], the Hittites would first assist Nuhašše against Mitanni before marching on and conquering Isuwa on the upper Tigris. In doing so, they would prevent a two-front war. But assisting Nuhašše was more likely a pretext for later subjugation inferred from the earlier-mentioned correspondence; Alši, south of Isuwa and east of the Mitanni heartland, would strike against the Hitties, who would then respond and conquer Alši[57].
With a foothold in the region, the Hittites were ready to challenge the Mitanni capital of Waššukanni uncontested. Hittite sources claim a swift sack, catching Mitanni off guard. The Hittites plundered the capital, and Tušratta would flee[58]. Šuppiluliuma would then conquer Aleppo[59], Mukish, Niya[60], Arahtu, Qutna[61], Nuhašše, and the region of Damascus.
The king of Kadesh, understanding the threat from the Hittites, led a pre-emptive strike against the Hittite forces; however, retaliation would see Kadesh fall too[62]. Even though Kadesh was an Egyptian vassal, Egypt did not assist. Now, with northern Syria, including Kadesh, under the control of the Hittites, they turned towards Ugarit.
The Hittites would pursue relations with Ugarit, accusing Ugarit’s neighbors of harboring hostile intent towards Ugarit[63], which infers the earlier threat to Nuḫašše. Ugarit would meet with reprisal from the local kings for accepting the offer[64]. It is also argued that the acceptance of the offer resulted from attacks by local kings attempting to pressure Ugarit to join them and reject the vassalage forced on them by the Hittites[65]. If Trevor Bryce and Horst Klengel are correct, the risk of reprisal was calculated, facing the smaller city-states rather than the Hittite Empire. If Donald Redford and Gary Beckman are correct, it may have been Niqmaddu II wished to remain neutral, but his hand was forced. Regardless, Niqmaddu II requested assistance from Šuppiluliuma, who responded, defending Ugarit and suppressing the belligerents of Mukish, Nuhašše, and Niya[66].
Northern Syria was now under Hittite vassalage; however, Mitanni was still an independent kingdom, and Carchemish was their vassal. This would change.
The Inter-War Period: c. 1340–1330 BCE
Even though Aziru’s initial correspondence with the Pharaoh indicates a claim of loyalty to the Pharaoh, the Pharaoh became suspicious. Aziru would defend himself against claims of treasonous behaviour[67] and attempted to prove his loyalty while claiming he was defending his holdings from the Hittites[68]. Aziru also infers welcoming gestures towards the Hittites,[69] but this was likely more an act of frustration with Egyptian inaction. Aziru was summoned to Egypt, though he claims he did not receive the summons, as he was in Tunip when the summons arrived[70]. Tunip was under threat from the Hittites[71].
Aziru would take further advantage of the pause in Hittite aggression. He seized the opportunity to expand his kingdom of Amurru at the expense of his neighbors. Cities weakened by Suppiluliuma’s initial campaign, such as those in the region of Qatna[72], were easy targets for Aziru to conquer and incorporate into his territory. The conquest of Sumur by Aziru and his forces[73], would further weaken Egyptian presence in Amurru. Land owners could not work the fields to produce food due to the threats, and people revolted,[74] then apparently partly deserted[75]. Byblos, however, was not conquered directly by Aziru, although Byblos was harassed and besieged. Rib-Hadda had traveled to Beirut to form an allegiance with its leader; however, Byblos was given to the sons of Abdi-Aširta by his brother in Rib-Hadda’s absence[76]. Rib-Hadda would continue to struggle for survival during the Hittite advance as a refugee in Beirut. It is from here that he would write his last Amarna Letter[77].
Aziru’s lack of attendance at the Egyptian court was not received well by the Pharaoh, who accused him of “delinquency”, aware of the situation with Byblos and Rib-Hadda. The Pharaoh seemed to understand Aziru was stalling and demanding his attendance or that of one of his sons[78], warning that failure would mean death “by the axe of the king.” In Aziru’s absence in Egypt, his sons governed Amurru.
Following the Hittite pressure, Tušratta was assassinated in a palace coup orchestrated by a rival pro-Assyrian faction led by Artatama II. This plunged the Mitanni kingdom into a succession crisis. The throne was passed to Artatama’s son, Šuttarna III. Tušratta’s son, Šattiwaza, would flee as a refuge to Hatti, where he secured Šuppiluliuma’s backing to reclaim the Mitanni crown[79].
With success in northern Syria, Šuppiluliuma returned to Syria to suppress attacks from the Kaska tribes on his northeastern border. His son Telipinu was placed in command and later appointed viceroy of the “Land of Aleppo”[80].
Egypt’s lack of response to the fall of Kadesh and Ugarit marked the erosion of Egyptian authority in Syria, as mirrored in Rib-Hadda’s pleas. During this Inter-War period, Akhenaten died, with the final letter firm Rib-Hadda being one of his last, and Pharaoh Smenkhkare, whose origins are unknown, would take his place. The reign lasted only two or three years and little is known about this Pharaoh.
The year is now c. 1333 BCE and Pharaoh Tutankhamun would rise to the Egyptian throne. Akhenaten’s reforms would be reversed but it would not be long before the 18th Dynasty would come to and end.
The Second Syrian Campaign/The Hurrian War: c. 1325–1322 BC
The sequence of events surrounding this campaign is debated. Scholars such as Trevor Bryce and Amélie Kuhrt differ on arrangement including the timing of Tushratta’s death. This reconstruction relies primarily on the text of the Šuppiluliuma–Šattiwaza Treaty[81] and the Deeds of Šuppiluliuma’s I (KB0 14. 12+)[82], supplemented with details from Bryce’s The Kingdom of the Hittites[83] and Kuhrt’s The Ancient Near East, c. 3000–330 BC, vol. 1[84]. Consider the documents from royal archives were written to legitimize and glorify the king so must be read critically, with its propagandistic elements distinguished from the historical core.
Mitanni attempted to respond to the prior Hittite incursions, but Šuppiluliuma’s forces, under the command of his son Telipinu, suppressed this resistance. The region of Arziya and the surroundings of Carchemish fell under Hittite control, though the city of Carchemish itself remained outside their immediate grasp. Telipinu returned to report and consult with his father regarding the campaign conditions. Hittite forces would advance on Carchemish shortly thereafter, taking the city in eight days and placing Šuppiluliuma’s son Piyassili as viceroy. This opened the way to Mitanni; however, Egypt, under Tutankhamun, would take advantage of the opportunity and attack Kadesh to reclaim lost prestige. This failed, and Kadesh remained a Hittite vassal state.
Šuppiluliuma advanced with the aid of Šattiwaza and local defectors. Together they overthrew Šuttarna III, the pro-Assyrian ruler. Unlike the earlier blitz against Mitanni, this offensive occurred over one or two campaigning seasons before Waššukanni fell. The subsequent Šuppiluliuma–Šattiwaza Treaty recognized Mitanni as a kingdom, but in effect Mitanni was reduced to a subservient “rump state” under Hittite control. This established Mitanni as a buffer zone between the Hittite and Assyrian empires and permanently ended Mitanni control of the region.
Aziru would return to Amuru, and Rib-Hadda disappeared from the record. The majority opinion is that he was killed. It is also debated that he may have been given the role of mayor[85], but this is not widely accepted. Shortly after the completion of operations, Šuppiluliuma recognized Amurru as a Hittite vassal. Although there is no surviving treaty between Šuppiluliuma and Aziru, and the treaty known as the “Treaty between Niqmaddu II of Ugarit and Aziru of Amurru” is unpublished and fragmentary, the published Ras Shamra letter RS 17.166[86] confirms the alliance.
However, Šuppiluliuma would receive a letter. Tutankhamun’s reign was brief, ending during the siege of Carchemish, and his widow looked for a new husband who would become Pharaoh. She was not marrying a “commoner”. The Hitties had conquered northern Syria, taken Ugarit, defeated the Egyptians at Kadesh, so the Pharaoh’s widow approached Šuppiluliuma for a suitable replacement. This was understandably surprising and held with skepticism, but this event and the consequences for the Carchemish capture will be explored in the next essay.
Conclusion
Egypt’s control of the Levant was threefold: to secure trade and communication networks, expand its agricultural resources, and generate revenue through taxes and tribute, which included “products of their labors” and “royal gifts”[87]. Caution should be exercised in considering this as a justification for Akhenaten’s relative inaction. While it may have contributed, the absence of evidence addressing the broader economic impact on Egypt casts doubt on this as a motivating factor. It is more likely that internal struggles or Akhenaten’s devotion to religious reforms were the primary causes. The action of the city-states to join Aziru and the sons of Abdi-Aširta, whether willingly or under pressure, also supports the later conclusion.
Akhenaten failed to fulfill his obligation as a suzerain, eventually ceding territory to the Hittites. They were not alone in neglecting obligations: vassals were also expected to aid one another when threatened[88]. Instead, the Amarna Letters reveal that many Levantine vassals sought to elevate their own positions at the expense of their fellow vassals.
But whatever the reason was for Egypt’s inaction, the empire created by Thutmose III was over and would never return to its former glory. Mitanni had fallen, and the Hittites stood triumphant, at least for the remainder of the 14th century. But not long after, the assassination of a Prince would plunge the region into war again. A plague would devastate the people, and the Egyptian 18th dynasty would end. But the worst was yet to come. The following century would see the collapse of the entire system.
References
[1] Eric H. Cline, 1177 B.C.: The Year Civilization Collapsed, Rev. and Updated (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2021), 58.
[2] Marc Van De Mieroop, A History of the Ancient Near East, ca. 3000–323 BC, 3rd ed. (Chichester, West Sussex; Malden, MA: Wiley-Blackwell, 2016), 191.
[3] William L. Moran, The Amarna Letters (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1992), 37–38.
[4] Ibid., 18.
[5] Aidan Dodson, Amarna Sunset: Nefertiti, Tutankhamun, Ay, Horemheb, and the Egyptian Counter-Reformation (Cairo: American University in Cairo Press, 2009), 6.
[6] Raymond Cohen and Raymond Westbrook, Amarna Diplomacy: The Beginnings of International Relations (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2000), 119–20.
[7] Toby A. H. Wilkinson, The Egyptian World (London: Routledge, 2000), 292.
[8] Donald B. Redford, The Heretic King: Akhenaten (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1984), 122–36.
[9] Aidan Dodson, Amarna Sunrise: Egypt from Golden Age to Age of Heresy (Cairo: The American University in Cairo Press, 2013), 35.
[10] Erik Hornung, Akhenaten and the Religion of Light, trans. David Lorton (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1999), 98.
[11] Dodson, Amarna Sunrise, 92–94.
[12] Ibid., 101–2.
[13] Cline, 1177 B.C., 49.
[14] Ian Shaw, ed., The Oxford History of Ancient Egypt (Oxford; New York: Oxford University Press, 2000), 269.
[15] Dodson, Amarna Sunset, 8–10.
[16] Ibid.
[17] Moran, Amarna Letters, 114–15.
[18] Ibid., 84–85.
[19] Ibid., 87-89.
[20] Ibid., 90–91.
[21] Ibid., 92–99.
[22] Dodson, Amarna Sunrise, 107.
[23] Ibid., 108.
[24] Dodson, Amarna Sunset, 10.
[25] Toby A. H. Wilkinson, The Rise and Fall of Ancient Egypt (New York: Random House, 2010), 258–59.
[26] Dodson, Amarna Sunrise, 100.
[27] Cline, 1177 B.C., 49.
[28] Dodson, Amarna Sunrise, 113.
[29] Wilkinson, Rise and Fall of Ancient Egypt, 262–65.
[30] I. E. S. Edwards, C. J. Gadd, N. G. L. Hammond, and E. Sollberger, eds., The Cambridge Ancient History, vol. 2, part 2: The Middle East and the Aegean Region, c. 1380–1000 BC, 3rd ed. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1975), 53.
[31] Dodson, Amarna Sunset, 10.
[32] Moran, Amarna Letters, 242.
[33] Ibid., 188–89.
[34] Ibid., 242.
[35] Gary M. Beckman, Hittite Diplomatic Texts, SBL Writing from the Ancient World (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1999), 40.
[36] Violetta Cordani, “One-year or Five-year War? A Reappraisal of Šuppiluliuma’s First Syrian Campaign,” Altorientalische Forschungen 38, no. 2 (2011): 240–53.
[37] Moran, Amarna Letters, 122.
[38] Mursili II, The Deeds of Šuppiluliuma, as Told by His Son, Mursili II, Oriental Institute, University of Chicago, doi:10.2307/1359312.
[39] Hans Gustav Güterbock, “The Deeds of Suppiluliuma as Told by His Son, Mursili II,” Journal of Cuneiform Studies 10, no. 2 (1956): 41–68.
[40] Beckman, Hittite Diplomatic Texts, 30–32.
[41] Moran, Amarna Letters, 117–18.
[42] Ibid., 120–21.
[43] Bryce, Trevor. The Kingdom of the Hittites (Oxford University Press, 2005), p. 164.
[44] Moran, Amarna Letters, 176.
[45] Ibid., 205–7.
[46] Ibid., 171, 183–85.
[47] Ibid., 177.
[48] Ibid., 125–26.
[49] Ibid., 127–28.
[50] Ibid., 128–29.
[51] Ibid., 254–55.
[52] Ibid., 197.
[53] Ibid., 195–96.
[54] Beckman, Hittite Diplomatic Texts, 50.
[55] Bryce, Kingdom of the Hittites, 161.
[56] Donald B. Redford, Egypt, Canaan, and Israel in Ancient Times (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1992), 173–74.
[57] Beckman, Hittite Diplomatic Texts, 50–51.
[58] Bryce, Kingdom of the Hittites, 161.
[59] Amir Gilan, The Shadows of a Distant Past: The Historical Introduction of the Aleppo Treaty (CTH 75) (Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz Verlag, 2015), 36.
[60] Beckman, Hittite Diplomatic Texts, 40.
[61] Ibid., 50.
[62] Bryce, Kingdom of the Hittites, 163.
[63] Beckman, Hittite Diplomatic Texts, 125.
[64] Bryce, Kingdom of the Hittites, 165; Horst Klengel, Syria: 3000 to 300 B.C.E. (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1992), 132.
[65] Redford, Egypt, Canaan, and Israel in Ancient Times, 175; Beckman, Hittite Diplomatic Texts, 34.
[66] Redford, Egypt, Canaan, and Israel in Ancient Times, 175.
[67] Moran, Amarna Letters, 245.
[68] Ibid., 246.
[69] Ibid., 254–55.
[70] Ibid., 247–48.
[71] Ibid., 252-53.
[72] Ibid., 125-26.
[73] Ibid., 212-13.
[74] Ibid., 211-12.
[75] Ibid., 215-16.
[76] Ibid., 218-19.
[77] Ibid., 221-23.
[78] Ibid., 248-50.
[79] Amélie Kuhrt, The Ancient Near East c. 3000–330 BC, vol. 1 (London: Routledge, 1995), 294–95.
[80] Bryce, Kingdom of the Hittites, 176.
[81] Beckman, Hittite Diplomatic Texts, 37–49.
[82] KBo 14. 12+ (CTH 40) HPM Hittite Annals,” When Gods Walked (blog), https://whengodswalked.com/kbo-14-_2-cth-40-hpm-hittite-annals/
[83] Bryce, Kingdom of the Hittites, 176–80.
[84] Kuhrt, Ancient Near East, 295–96.
[85] Bryce, Kingdom of the Hittites, 174.
[86] Mario Liverani, Prestige and Interest: International Relations in the Near East ca. 1600–1100 B.C. (Padua: Sargon, 1990), 200.
[87] Brendon C. Benz, The Land before the Kingdom of Israel (Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2016), 28–30.
[88] Ibid., 31.
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