which bird was sacred to the ancient egyptians

The ancient Greeks usually depicted Thoth—their god of writing, wisdom and magic—as having the head of a bird with a long, down-curving bill. Until the 1800s, Europeans thought that this bird was probably a curlew, a stork or a heron. Linnaeus believed that the bird must be the Cattle Egret which he called Ardea ibis in the 1758 edition of his Systema Naturae. It was not until the turn of the 19th century that a small group of French scientists and naturalists finally confirmed the connection between Thoth and the head of the African Sacred Ibis (Threskiornis aethiopicus). This species was not unambiguously described until 1790 [1], but it took Napoleon Bonaparte’s military campaign to Egypt to provide the connection between this species and Thoth.

We now know that the sacred ibis was considered (and revered) by the Egyptians to be the earthly form of Thoth. For about a millennium starting in 1100 BC, ibises were frequently mummified as an offering to Thoth, believing that mummification would put the birds on a direct line to the afterlife. As a result, several million sacred ibises were killed, gutted, embalmed and folded with the bill tucked between the tail feathers. The carcasses were then wrapped with linen dipped in resin, and inserted individually or in pairs into urns that were placed in vast underground caverns in cities all along the Nile. Many of these mummified ibises have grains, snakes, snails and other foods in their body cavities, possibly to provide the birds with some food in the afterlife.

But why ibises, and where did all of these birds come from? There can be no doubt that the sacred ibis was a reasonably common bird [2] in swampy areas all along the Nile in the Late and Ptolomeic Periods of ancient Egyptian civilization [3]. Those birds were of great value to nearby villages as they ate the snails that infested fish ponds, snails that harboured parasites dangerous to humans. They were also claimed to feed on flying snakes (?) and generally consumed all kinds of human refuse [4]. No wonder they were considered to be sacred.

At several sites of ancient cities along the Nile, archaeologists have found incredible numbers of mummified ibises: 1.75 million at Saqqara, 4 million at Tuna el-Gebel, for example. Even over a period of 500 years that is a lot of birds per year, likely magnitudes more than could have been hunted in the local marshes for any sustained period. Because of their religious importance, sanctuaries dedicated to the ibis sprang up all over the country, where birds were bred and raised in captivity, processing as many as 20,000 ibises per year for the votive ibis industry. Priests apparently gathered eggs for artificial incubation and tended the large flocks, as well as engaging in a large pottery industry to make urns for the mummified birds. These ibiotropheia may well be the earliest examples of bird-farming that did not involve some form of fowl.

The vast stores of ibis mummies in Egypt were brought to light by Geoffery Saint-Hilaire and Jules-César Savigny, two of the 167 savants [5] who accompanied Napoleon Bonaparte to Egypt from 1798-1801. Savigny noticed that the ibis often appeared in hieroglyphics and tomb paintings, and reasoned that this bird was important to Egyptian culture. He wrote up his discoveries in 1805 as Histoire naturelle et mythologique de l’ibis which included some very nice illustrations.

Georges Cuvier, one of the leading French biologists of the day, was asked by Napoleon to join the Egyptian contingent, but he suggested that Savigny go instead, so he could continue his work on molluscs. But it was Cuvier who first measured two mummified birds brought back from Egypt by Col. Jacques François-Louis Grobert [6] from the catacombs at Saqqara. Cuvier initially concluded that those birds were probably curlews as they were smaller than some contemporary ibis specimens [7]. He later measured two mummies that Geoffrey Saint-Hilaire had brought home from Thebes. Those measurements plus the colours of some intact feathers convinced him that the mummies collected by Saint-Hilaire were indeed sacred ibises, and his 1804 paper has a very nice summary of his reasoning and all of the previous mis-identifications. Cuvier’s assistant even pieced together the bones from different mummies to make a complete skeleton (see picture below).

Even though the ibis mummies from Saint-Hilaire were not exactly the same size as contemporary birds, Cuvier also used those measurements to bolster his arguments of the fixity of species—evidence that species were created once by a deity and did not change through time. This argument put him at odds with his colleague Lamarck who argued that species changed through geological time.

I was made aware of this ibis story in a new essay in PLoS Biology [8], by Caitlin Curtis, Craig Millar and David Lambert. As Jerry Coyne noted in an essay on his Why Evolution is True site, not many evolutionary biologists seem to be aware of this as an early test of evolutionary change. The reason, I think, is that it was not actually a test [9]. The story is actually rather well known and has been published many times in scientific journals and the popular press ever since Cuvier’s initial publications [10]. While the new essay summarizes many aspects of this story the authors present no evidence in support of some of their claims and I am not entirely convinced by some of their assertions.

When interpreting the past here is always a danger of applying present knowledge and values incorrectly. In this case, I cannot yet tell if my different interpretation of this interesting story is correct. I will need to read the work of Cuvier, Lamarck, Saint-Hilaire and Savigny in the original French and Latin to put the whole story in context but that will take a while, even though all of the relevant texts are now available online. I will revisit the topic when I have done the necessary research.

Whether the details in this new essay by Curtis and colleagues are correctly interpreted or not, it does end with a curious conclusion that I feel deserves some further discussion: Of great importance is the reminder, even today, of the power of a strong personality and that the belief in “what they know to be true” can dramatically influence the direction of science and public opinion. I do not think that anyone would dispute that strong personalities and beliefs can influence science and public opinion. Take, for example, Julian Huxley’s rejection of Darwin’s ideas on sexual selection [11], undoubtedly reducing interest in that topic for the next 50 years or so. And while it is true that Huxley and Cuvier had strong personalities, and were great communicators and relatively powerful men, I think that their arguments held sway largely because they made them clearly and because there was neither compelling evidence nor any clear and logical mechanisms to explain the existing patterns. In both cases the delays in the progress of science were reasonably short and probably needed the ideas and considerable evidence presented by Darwin and Wallace, and Williams and Trivers, respectively, before there could be any real progress.

Finally, it has probably not escaped your notice that the African Sacred Ibis has been depicted on the cover of The Ibis in one form or another ever since 1859. This may seem a bit odd as that bird does not occur in the wild in Britain and only sparsely in southern Europe through introductions. Thus the sacred ibis does not really appear to be a fitting symbol for the British Ornithologists’ Union. There is a long and interesting story there, but that too will have to wait for another day.

This species of bird lives in flocks and breeds as a gregarious species. In flight, they form diagonal lines or v-formations. This formation decreases wind resistance for trailing birds. When an ibis loses energy, it falls to the rear of the group and another one moves up to the front.

The ancient Greeks usually depicted Thoth—their god of writing, wisdom and magic—as having the head of a bird with a long, down-curving bill. Until the 1800s, Europeans thought that this bird was probably a curlew, a stork or a heron. Linnaeus believed that the bird must be the Cattle Egret which he called Ardea ibis in the 1758 edition of his Systema Naturae. It was not until the turn of the 19th century that a small group of French scientists and naturalists finally confirmed the connection between Thoth and the head of the African Sacred Ibis (Threskiornis aethiopicus). This species was not unambiguously described until 1790 [1], but it took Napoleon Bonaparte’s military campaign to Egypt to provide the connection between this species and Thoth.

We now know that the Egyptians believed the sacred ibis to be the earthly manifestation of Thoth, and they held it in high regard. Ibises were commonly mummified as offerings to Thoth for approximately a millennium, beginning in 1100 BC, with the belief that this would provide the birds with a direct route to the afterlife. As a result, millions of sacred ibises were killed, their organs removed, their bodies embalmed, and their bills folded between their tail feathers. Following that, the corpses were wrapped in linen that had been dipped in resin and placed either singly or in pairs into urns that were positioned in enormous underground caverns in cities all along the Nile. There are grains, snakes, snails, and other foods in the body cavities of many of these mummified ibises, perhaps to give the birds some sustenance in the afterlife.

Regardless of how the details in this new essay by Curtis and colleagues are interpreted, it does come to a curious conclusion that, in my opinion, merits some more discussion: It is important to remember the power of a strong personality and the fact that people’s beliefs about “what they know to be true” can have a significant impact on the direction of science and public opinion. Strong personalities and ideologies have the ability to sway public opinion and science, and I don’t think anyone would contest that. Consider Julian Huxley’s denial of Darwin’s theories regarding sexual selection [11], which surely diminished interest in that field for the ensuing fifty years or so. While it’s true that Huxley and Cuvier were strong personalities, effective communicators, and relatively powerful men, I believe that the main reasons their arguments were persuasive were that there was insufficient evidence to support them and no logical explanation for the patterns that were already in place. In both instances, scientific advancement was not overly prolonged and most likely required the concepts and substantial proof put forth by Darwin and Wallace, and Williams and Trivers, respectively, before any meaningful advancement could occur.

The vast stores of ibis mummies in Egypt were brought to light by Geoffery Saint-Hilaire and Jules-César Savigny, two of the 167 savants [5] who accompanied Napoleon Bonaparte to Egypt from 1798-1801. Savigny noticed that the ibis often appeared in hieroglyphics and tomb paintings, and reasoned that this bird was important to Egyptian culture. He wrote up his discoveries in 1805 as Histoire naturelle et mythologique de l’ibis which included some very nice illustrations.

I was made aware of this ibis story in a new essay in PLoS Biology [8], by Caitlin Curtis, Craig Millar and David Lambert. As Jerry Coyne noted in an essay on his Why Evolution is True site, not many evolutionary biologists seem to be aware of this as an early test of evolutionary change. The reason, I think, is that it was not actually a test [9]. The story is actually rather well known and has been published many times in scientific journals and the popular press ever since Cuvier’s initial publications [10]. While the new essay summarizes many aspects of this story the authors present no evidence in support of some of their claims and I am not entirely convinced by some of their assertions.

FAQ

What is the native bird of Egypt?

Native Birds Of Egypt
Scientific Name
Eurasian Golden Oriole
Oriolus oriolus
Eurasian Spoonbill
Platalea leucorodia
Eurasian Woodcock
Scolopax rusticola
Laughing Dove
Spilopelia senegalensis