the historians and kings blotted his epoch from the annals, considering it the most destructive period ever for the country—one that destroyed it utterly.”
Osiris bid Akhenaten to address the court.
“From a very early age,” began Akhenaten, “I persistently sought to fill my soul with knowledge and divine wisdom, until the celestial inspiration descended into my heart—the light of the one and only God, and the call to worship him. I dedicated my life to that, then my rule, when I took the throne—in pursuit of the same goal. Immediately there arose a conflict between my luminous cause and the darknesses of ignorance and tradition, the ambitions of the priests and governors for higher rank and glory, the subjugation of the peasantry and the subjects of the empire. I never once resorted to violence in my holy spiritual struggle—I never approved the use of bloodshed or coercion. For some years, I tasted victory, and well-being spread its wings. But then the clouds of conspiracy and intrigue gathered, and the armies of darkness crept in around us, until they besieged us on all sides. I fell without any strength left, and defeat settled over me. Yet my trust in the final triumph never for a moment wavered. Never had a king known a life as heavenly as mine, nor an end so wretched.”
“Believe what he has said, O Lord,” Nefertiti beseeched Osiris. “We waged the struggle of heroes—until the forces of evil overwhelmed us. The looming tower was brought low, its foundations fallen in.”
The first to comment was the wise Imhotep. “We had always surmised that the power of the one Deity lay behind Amun, Ra, Ptah, and the pantheon of gods,” he said. “But we observed that the people clung to their bodily images, gathering around them in every province to gain strength and solace, so we let things continue as they were. This was a mercy to believing hearts, saving them from oblivion.”
“We found the people lost in error,” rejoined Akhenaten. “The time had come for them to face the Truth, in all its aspects.”
“Handling the people is a difficult art, Your Highness,” answered Ptahhotep. “He who does not master it will find his benevolent impulses frustrated, and will kill what he loves while striving to save it.”
“If it weren’t for those seeking personal interest,” complained Akhenaten, “we could have achieved the salvation of those we love.”
“What did you do with those who opposed you for selfish motives?” asked Abnum.
“I committed myself from the beginning,” answered Akhenaten, “to treat others with kindness, to avoid harm and aggression.”
“Evildoers deserve naught but the club and the sword!” exclaimed Abnum.
“I believed in love for one’s enemies, as well as one’s friends.”
“Your message was lost through your own naivete,” Abnum upbraided him. “The only good man is a warrior!”
“I left for you the greatest empire in history,” added Thutmose III. “How could it have perished when you such had an incomparable army waiting at your command?”
“Love and peace were my ideals,” replied Akhenaten.
“Please go on,” Osiris urged him.
“I preached for the One God, who is the Father and the Mother to all humanity,” Akhenaten continued. “They are all equal under His shelter. I would call for love to replace the sword in the relations between people.”
“No wonder the empire was lost with this kind of thinking,” Thutmose III reproved him. “You must be crazy!”
“I will not permit anyone’s speech to cross the bounds of courtesy,” Osiris rebuked him. “Apologize!”
“I apologize,” Thutmose III replied, “but I also declare my regret that my life was spent in vain!”
“I unified Egypt with the sword,” Menes reminded Akhenaten, “on a hill of skulls. By necessity, the empire was created by the same means. Yet to our misfortune, an enemy called ‘ideas’ inflicted itself upon us, invading us from within—and