Yahweh as Amun-SethBefore leaving the monotheism of Moses to itself, to watch how its gospel of slave liberation has infected Palestine and lands beyond, it still may be helpful to say a few things about the Egyptian “Seth” element as it pertains to the Yahweh‑Amun theology of Moses.
In its Heliopolitan orthodox setting the divine Ennead, which includes Seth, represents a series of hypostases that emanate from a single source, Atum. During the New Kingdom the Amun theology that Moses had learned was still the full heir of the orthodox manner of thinking about theogony, as a process of generation and emanation. Therefore, the theological mind of Moses can be expected to have been aware not only of the essential attributes of the hidden godhead of the New Kingdom, Amun, but also of the God's desert heat emanation—the portion of Seth. As a desert god, Seth was known among Egyptians also as the god of foreigners, of thunder, lightning, and earthquakes. Seth in his cosmic dimension, on a monthly cycle, also was deemed responsible for injuring the poor eye of Horus, the moon.
It has been told that Moses spoke to the pharaoh in the name of the God of the Hebrews (Exodus 5:3). To an Egyptian pharaoh that meant in the name of Seth. Of course, the Hebrew narrator happily proceeded to exaggerate the status of Moses another step, at the expense of a supposedly superstitious pharaoh. But then, this is understandable. The story was told to amuse Hebrews, not Egyptians:
…the Lord said to Moses, "See, I make you as God to the Pharaoh; and Aaron your brother shall be your prophet." (Exodus 7:1)
It is uncertain how much historical weight can be given to the ten plagues that, with the exception of the last, can be explained in terms of ordinary natural or environmental imbalances. All nine, it must be acknowledged, also proved ineffective for softening the pharaoh's “hardened heart.”
The initial ruse of having to make a three‑day journey into the Sinai desert, to fulfill religious obligations under the threat of divine punishment, may have been only a cover for a more subtle ruse. What halfway intelligent pharaoh would not have been able to see through the first one? And yes, the story tells how the pharaoh hardened his heart, as could reasonably be expected of him.
Perhaps the real goal or ruse, from the outset, was to nag and intimidate the pharaoh, and wear him down to a point where he no longer would pay attention. Repeated rumors, to the effect that these people were about to leave, could so have been neutralized by the persistent formal diplomatic requests of Moses. Repeated unsubstantiated rumors could have created an impression to the effect that Moses and these slaves would never try to leave without the pharaoh's official consent. Such a subtle strategy could have given the escapees much needed lead time before the ruler would seriously have taken note. Of course, these are mere speculations based on the style of subterfuge by which political problems are being resolved in Near Eastern lands still today.
But then, the tenth and special plague attracts our attention as the pivotal point in the Exodus story plot. All of Egypt's firstborn sons, we are told, have been slain by an executioner angel of Yahweh. It is high time to rethink this Hebrew story plot from the hypothetical point of view of a twofold Hebrew‑Egyptian mind, such as had been the mind of Moses. The God who killed the firstborn sons of the Egyptians would have been Seth to them, the very god of desert dwellers. Furthermore, on the Egyptian side, the color of appearance of Seth, and of all his evil deeds, was red.[3] On the Hebrew side, Mosaic tradition has accented the role of their God with all kinds of red “fire” kratophanies.
Egyptians always have experienced unease in the presence of Seth. Their perception of this lowest Enneadean hypostasis, in Egyptian tradition, clearly has constituted the weakest point in the politico-religious structure within which an Egyptian pharaoh was obliged to operate. Even if critical historiography refuses to accept the tenth Exodus plague as a historical event and even if the rite of Passover is to be understood only as an historicized ancient communal herder sacrifice, both of these motifs together nevertheless may contain a historical kernel of fact. They hint at an actual diplomatic leverage that Moses reasonably could have applied to the Egyptian royal court.
Traditionally, whenever in Egypt a pharaoh died the god Seth was known to have killed him, reduced him or transformed him into the condition of an Osiris corpse. From the Hebrew perspective, of course, Yahweh upstaged the Egyptian perception of Seth. Instead of waiting to kill an old Egyptian pharaoh, he killed his firstborn son. This means he killed the very person who, on his ceremonial rebirth as Horus during the next enthronement rite, was meant to become the ruling pharaoh.
Egyptian mythology knows the ruling pharaoh as Horus and the avenger of Osiris. The young king supposedly was the one who was to have mutilated Seth during a battle that then ensued.[4] According to Egyptian tradition, however, that victory of Horus over Seth was never a decisive one. Seth was mutilated, and while they struggled the avenger Horus lost his eye. Both divinities had to be healed by Thoth. This meant that after their struggle Seth was again in a position to strike another blow against the next Horus‑king of Egypt, whenever he chose to do so. And everyone knew that ruling pharaohs when they suffered death were dispatched by Seth, to be thereby transformed into Osiris. In this manner the god Seth repeatedly defeated a ruling Egyptian Horus. He transformed him back into the mode of his brother Osiris.
To the extent that Moses spoke authoritatively to the pharaoh, in the name of a God who behaved as Amun and Seth combined—or as the Hebrew narrator would mockingly have it, to the extent that Moses himself impersonated that kind of a God—he indeed did have a plausible case as to why the Hebrew people should be let go. People who belonged to this dangerous God of the desert, in Egypt, could not be held captive indefinitely with impunity. Moreover, it also was reasonable to think that the people of Seth should want to appease this dangerous God in the desert places where, according to Egyptian perception, he actually lived.
It is quite possible therefore that a diplomatically astute Moses indeed assured the pharaoh that an appeased Yahweh-Amun-Seth would refrain from plaguing Egypt. The presence of a narrative with ten plagues, which now dominates the larger Exodus epic, suggests that at one point some threats of plagues indeed could have been made.
The clinching plot of the Exodus, which subsequently could have given credence to a series of diplomatic plague threats against Egypt, was Yahweh‑Seth's killing of the Egyptian Horus-to-be; that is, the ruling pharaoh's firstborn son. For good measure it is said as well that the Hebrew God has killed all the firstborn sons in all Egyptian houses not marked with Sethian "red" blood.
The initial diplomatic bait that Moses might have offered to the pharaoh is now coming into better focus. In exchange for letting the Hebrew slaves serve their God in his distant desert, the land of Egypt would be spared the typical calamities that a foreigner's god, like Seth, would be able to inflict. Positively stated, Moses had offered Egypt a conditional blessing.
But diplomatic positivism of the "deal" offered by Moses was overshadowed, in the narrative, when subsequent Hebrew storytellers got carried away celebrating their escape. For good measure they celebrated all the punishments their mighty God could possibly have brought down upon those hated Egyptians.
The death of the pharaoh's firstborn son may be pondered in terms of historical realism still a little further. If Moses actually had approached the Egyptian pharaoh so as to appear to him as a spokesman of a God like Amun‑Seth, and if we consider how at some point during these negotiations Moses must have become desperate, then a conditional curse laid by him on the Egyptian crown prince could have been a logical next step. The story has it that the king's firstborn son actually died and that, in a subsequent state of grief, the disparaged pharaoh finally ordered the Israelites to get out.
Was this story merely the product of Hebrew wishful thinking? Was it all generated by priestly Levites to anchor an ancient herder ritual in the bedrock of Palestine historical relevance, to commemorate liberation? Possibly, yes. But then, if such thinking was possible by Hebrew minds at all—and the existence of the story testifies to the fact that it was—then it also is conceivable that a desperate Moses could have unloaded on the pharaoh's son some conditional “curse” or “cause” of death. With his Sethian mission, an impatient Moses easily could have cursed the entire sacred Egyptian tradition of royal succession. A strong Amun‑Sethian curse laid on the crown prince, possibly even pronounced within hearing range of the lad, conceivably could have contributed to bringing a sensitive young royal heir to his deathbed.
The Hebrew storyteller seems to have remembered that Moses acted like a God! Inasmuch as the curse was conditional, only the pharaoh himself could have removed it by liberating his Hebrew slaves. Thus, in consideration of Egyptian religious beliefs current at the time, and in light of experiences that had accrued for Moses, the basic steps of the Exodus appear to have been undertaken in accordance with a well-reasoned strategy.
In all likelihood Yahweh's commissioning of Moses, at the site of the burning bush, was no more than the turning point from theory to practice. While he lived at Midian, Moses had many years to ponder Egyptian weaknesses and Hebrew points of leverage. He probably still knew personally some key Egyptians at the court, and he knew their religio-psychological strengths and weaknesses. He would have been able to exploit these.
Still another question may be asked concerning the Hebrew Exodus, about what exactly might have happened on the Egyptian side. Was a divine curse really sufficient to scare and to kill the crown prince? Was it enough to create confusion, by which Moses and his people could escape? Or, were other death‑dealing measures resorted to in the process, perhaps with some inside help at the court? Could Moses have lent a helping hand in the Passover plot by sending a human angel of death into the pharaoh's house? But then again, bodily inflictions may not have been necessary. Curses were taken seriously enough in those days. Could the original Exodus plot indeed have been that simple?
Maybe—and maybe not. The exact historical sequence of events eludes those of us who live over three millennia later. Nevertheless, the religio-political affinity that exists between the Egyptian-educated aristocrat Moses and the man who in Hebrew literature we have come to know as the lawgiver of Yahweh still can be surmised in broad outlines. With help from the history of religions it may be possible to excavate some fresh hypotheses, perhaps with improved historical clarity, beyond what hitherto has been imagined.