Tewfik Boulos and the Administration of Egyptian Heritage at the Beginning of the Twentieth Century

Introduction

Studies centering around the history of archaeology have today increasingly begun to examine persons, groups and cultures that have traditionally been ignored or overlooked in the discipline’s historical trajectory, foregrounding their stories, experiences and histories. ¹ Rather than approaching the field’s narrative through anecdotes of heroic and intrepid western explorers tackling the untamed orient, or through an uncritical honoring and lauding of early western scholars who dug and scoured ancient sites, some studies have begun delving into the backstory of the discipline’s history. These studies, using archival collections in museums or archaeological institutes and/or through an employment of historical critique, are casting a more critical eye on the discipline’s founding and exploring notions of coloniality, marginality and the myriad ways these issues informed and shaped the discipline. ² Such postcolonial endeavors offer an opportunity to add complexity and meaning to the discipline’s interpretation and historiography, reflecting on questions of knowledge production. Alternate histories are brought into the limelight, with spaces allocated to exploring the worldviews and identities of a wider spectrum of individuals or communities. This then creates ruptures in the traditional discourse of the field, which is often portrayed as linear in its progression and intellectual development ³ and leaves little room to grapple with diverse perspectives and viewpoints.

Particularly condemned to neglect are the assortment of documents that were accumulated ‘as a matter of duty’ with no intent to be consumed outside the immediate workplace or to be published for a wider audience. ⁴ These include records such as correspondence, internal reports, telegrams and notebooks, which are regarded as mundane, unscientific and/or banal, and are consequently discounted for the more enticing, data rich scientific manuscripts. ⁵ Slowly, however, the significance of these raw quotidian records is being realized and accepted as an opportunity to broaden the area under scrutiny and open up discussions about the ‘operational and practical aspects’ ⁶ of the discipline, shedding light on its organizational structure and the previously ambiguous individuals who steered and helped operate its many facets; ⁷ this in turn allows inquiries into how archaeological practices, values and even knowledge were shaped. ⁸ More often than not, historical accounts of famed archaeologists or ancient sites focus on the excavations, the finds and the documentation, followed by a leap forward to an examination of the resulting publications, with only cursory glances given to the labourers who carried the dirt and transported the artifacts, or the networks of individuals who worked behind the scenes to keep sites protected and in operation. ⁹ This gaping hole in the narrative is one that needs to be redressed if a truly holistic examination of the past is to be pursued. Riggs, for example, comments on how Schiaparelli, during his excavations in Egypt, relied on Boulos Yatta, a Coptic Christian who appeared to have been the operations manager of the Italian mission. ¹⁰ His letters to the Italian Egyptologists shed light on this critical role - a role, influential and necessary, that has thus far been unexamined and disregarded. Similarly Stevenson examines the role of the EES secretary Mary C. Jonas, who took over in 1919 and organized meetings, managed project budgets and liaised with museums, and who was ‘the diplomatic pivot around which competing views on the significance and nature of archaeological finds for museum acquisition were balanced’. ¹¹ Sengupta, who examines heritage preservation in colonial India, questions the role and efficacy of the complex bureaucratic structure set up by the colonial state to enforce its task of monument preservation throughout the country. She argues that despite the elaborate bureaucratic mechanisms that were put in place (and in fact partly due to their inconsistencies), control by the colonial state was circumscribed by the agency and resistance of the indigenous population. ¹² In essence, by acknowledging the limits and constraints of the heroic western excavator and discoverer paradigm, and attempting to unlock contributions to the history of archaeology within a framework of indigenity and/or one that encompasses a larger swathe of actors who are non-curators and non-archaeologists, one can begin to tap into the discipline’s multilayered history.

In an attempt to give credit to such overlooked processes and practices, this paper will focus on the job taken up by Tewfik Boulos, an Egyptian antiquities inspector and employee of the Service des Antiquités during the early twentieth century. Through an examination of a collection of letters ¹³ he wrote during his time as an inspector of Sohag, we learn of his duties, his site and object inspections, the relations that he formed and others which were negotiated, as well as his colonial encounters. It is a look at his microhistory, with the desire to ‘reconstruct the complex web of past actions, relations and social networks’ ¹⁴ that was taking place. This during a time when the country was undergoing an extensive process of modernization, with burgeoning governmental institutions that, under colonial dominance, were continuing to cement their influence and reach country-wide. Far from glorifying Boulos and his life-history by presenting him as another forgotten Egyptian Egyptologist, and thus replicating ‘colonial categories, nationalist narratives, or linear temporalities’, ¹⁵ the aim of the paper is to bring attention to the space, both literally and figuratively, that Boulos occupied in the newly emerging field of Egyptology, and more specifically his administration of heritage, his performance as a local actor, and to interpret this within the ideological and socio-economic context of the time. Tewfik Boulos’ position as an effendi, a junior state official employed to run the country’s modern bureaucracy and supervise its day-to-day policies ¹⁶ afforded him cultural and social capital, that elevated his status amongst his countryfolk. ¹⁷ It was this authority that permitted him to implement the policies of the French-led Antiquities Service, with its concerted drive to reorganize Egypt’s heritage landscape and bring it in line with the expectations of the new modern world order. Egypt’s modernization was being defined by attributes such as material and moral progress that included aspects such as the transformation and mastery of the country’s agricultural and colonial environment, ¹⁸ and the management of social and bodily behavior, which in the process produced new sets of temporal and spatial experiences. ¹⁹ Just as women and the peasantry became a focal point for reforming social behavior and practices believed to be detrimental to modernity, ²⁰ residents of villages, for instance, were expected to change their behavior towards antiquities and establish new types of relationships with the monuments and ancient sites they had lived alongside for generations. It is these types of interactions, along with Tewfik Boulos’ other practices and activities during this critical time in Egypt’s political and archaeological history that can be considered and incorporated into the story of the early years of Egyptology and local engagement with the country’s heritage. Ultimately, a picture that encompasses a much wider scope of interpretation, one that looks at all the discourses and practices related to ancient heritage, ²¹ and moves away from one defined by the conquest culture ²² can be presented.

From Secretary to Chief Inspector

A graduate of the American Training College in Assiut, with knowledge of English, Arabic and a little French ²³ Tewfik Boulos was hired (temporarily) in 1902 by Gaston Maspero, the then-Director General of Antiquities, as a clerk (later secretary) to Howard Carter, who at the time was an antiquities inspector in Luxor. ²⁴ He was responsible for administrative tasks that involved corresponding in Arabic with the central offices in Cairo on behalf of foreign inspectors. ²⁵ Despite some early reservations about his performance, ²⁶ Boulos continued as Carter’s secretary until the end of 1904. In March 1905 he was transferred to the newly created inspectorate of Middle Egypt and became an antiquities inspector in Sohag in the district of Girga working under chief inspector Gustave Lefebvre ²⁷ (C54 ²⁸ ). Later that year he was transferred yet again to the Minya-Assiut inspectorate to replace Sobhi Arif, following the latter’s untimely death. ²⁹ During his tenure, which lasted ostensibly until 1912, ³⁰ he carried out work at a range of sites, publishing his results in the Annales du Service des Antiquités de l’Égypte (ASAE). This included work at Nag el-Kelebat ³¹ in 1905 (signed as Inspecteur d’Abydos), at Kom Hehia (Kom el-Ahmar), Sheikh Ibada and el-Ashmounein, where he describes the objects that were found during sebakh ³² removal, ³³ and finally at el-Tuna where he excavated a cemetery. ³⁴ During this period he was promoted from first to second class inspector. ³⁵

Following the last of Maspero’s Service reports, Boulos’ whereabouts become uncertain. He is incorrectly ³⁶ (more on this below) listed in the Giza archives as an inspector at Giza in 1914, ³⁷ and in Who Was Who in Egyptology ³⁸ as an inspector at Luxor from 1914–16. From the archival documents of the Wadi Qurud tomb in Thebes, where three minor foreign-born wives of the pharaoh Thutmose III were buried, one can confirm that by August 1916 Boulos was in fact an inspector at Luxor, ³⁹ having moved there sometime after June 1915. ⁴⁰ Shortly following the discovery that the tomb was being looted, it appears Boulos was transferred to Giza from Luxor to replace Mohammed Chabaan, ⁴¹ who in turn took Boulos’ place in Luxor in order to proceed with the excavation of the new tomb. ⁴² The frequent rate of transfers from one inspectorate to another during this period can likely be attributed to the fallout from World War I, when many foreign inspectors returned to Europe, leaving behind numerous vacancies within the Service. In 1920, Boulos, still in Giza, published an article about his excavations at Zawyet Abu Mossallem, ⁴³ carried out work at Tell el-Yahoudieh ⁴⁴ and appears to have also excavated in the East Cemetery (Cemetery 7000) digging several shafts and mastabas. ⁴⁵ Around 1923, he was promoted to deputy chief inspector of Lower and Middle Egypt (e.g. C7069, C1802), and shortly thereafter became chief inspector of Upper Egypt, continuing in that role until sometime in 1932 (C1812). He is mentioned several times in the diaries of Howard Carter – such as in 1923 when he attended the official opening of the sealed doorway of the tomb of Tutankhamun ⁴⁶ and in several of Carter’s entries between 1925 and 1926 in his capacity as chief inspector of Upper Egypt. ⁴⁷ His final title appears to have been chief inspector of Middle Egypt which he held until at least 1936 according to documents in the Abydos archive (C7910) and an article he published in the ASAE detailing his excavations at Sheikh Nassir and the Coptic cemetery of el-Deir in Abydos. ⁴⁸ It is probably around this time that Boulos retired from the Service, although in 1947 he published one last article in the ASAE, where he signs as ex-chief inspector of Upper Egypt, and theorized on the possible location of missing tombs in the Valley of the Kings. ⁴⁹ From his simple beginnings as an inspector’s secretary in 1902 up until his likely retirement in 1937 as chief inspector, Boulos had a long career of upward mobility in the Antiquities Service spanning a period of 35 years.

Inspector of Sohag 1914–15 and Ledger 128

While the exact dates of his departure from the Minya inspectorate, as well as his arrival in Luxor, remain unclear, what we are able to determine with certainty from documents in the Abydos archive is that between 1914–15, Tewfik Boulos was once again an inspector in Sohag. During this time, he kept a ledger that consisted of copies of the letters he had written to officials both inside and outside of the Antiquities Service, but particularly to his direct superior, the chief inspector of Middle Egypt (at first Lefebvre and then L. L. Edgar as deputy from late 1914 into 1915, when the former left to join the war). This outward ledger, L128, ⁵⁰ called daftar al-kobya (‘The copy notebook’), and which contains over 400 entries/letters signed by Boulos throughout a fourteen-month period (fig. 1), is the focus of this paper.

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Fig. 1.

Front cover of the kobya ledger (L128) of Tewfik Effendi Boulos, inspector of Sohag. Date 1914–15 (photo: © Ayman Damarany).

The contents of the ledger can be grouped into the following topics: inventories and day-to-day bureaucracy of the inspectorate, complaints and court cases related to disputed antiquities land, ghaffir-related matters, quarries and sebakh permits, encroachments and investigations, discovery and transport of artifacts, and inspections and excavations. As an inspector of Sohag, the areas that fell under Boulos’ jurisdiction, together with Sohag, included the governorate of Assiut, as well as the oases of al-Dakhla and al-Kharga (as listed in C6993). In fact, in a letter addressed to him by Gustave Lefebvre on 13 April 1914, Boulos is addressed as the inspector of Sohag and Assiut (C860), suggesting that his responsibilities extended to the archaeological sites of both governorates. Several letters in L128 (e.g. C6993) outline the daily administrative tasks that were undertaken by inspector Boulos, along with his clerk, at the Sohag inspectorate. Office work consisted primarily of writing letters to various governmental and non-governmental bodies across the country, as well as to official and non-official persons, summaries of which were subsequently recorded in outward ledgers, and exact copies imprinted in the kobya ledger (more on this below). Furthermore, accounting work was recorded in both a departmental ledger and a budget ledger, while additional ledgers existed for court cases, for ghaffir criminal records and for the inspectorate and dig house inventories. The employees in his inspectorate, in addition to the ghaffirs that guarded archaeological sites in the different governorates, included assistants and clerks (C6813). In an entry dated 25 March 1915, and in an effort to have his clerk reinstated following cuts across the Antiquities Service presumably as a result of the First World War, Boulos quantifies the amount of office work undertaken by his inspectorate up until that date. He writes (C7040): ⁵¹

To the Bashmofatish [=chief inspector] of Antiquities in Assiut:

Your letter number 2332, and which includes the decision of the ministry to dismiss Labib Effendi Mishriki, who is my clerk, was implemented without any opposition from me because I am aware of the wishes of the government in the present circumstances. However, given the expansion of my department and the large writing and administration workload, I find myself forced to request from the Antiquities Service that they permit me to find a clerk, with any salary, so that he can take care of the written work, or at least the work of the ledgers, and to supervise the office in my absence.

Here is a list of the work that has been completed within the past year from 1 April 1914 until today:

2045 letters written, registered in the outward ledger and the kobya

1760 letters received, registered in the inward ledger

450 sebakh permits, each with a sebakh list, a receipt, a recruitment order, and each registered in a special journal.

This is in addition to the many unofficial letters that are written to the ghaffirs daily.

The function of the kobya ledger, which serves as this paper’s main dataset, appears to have been to consolidate all outgoing letters from the inspectorate into one book. The copies were likely made through the use of an imprinting device – an instrument which the inspectorate received at the beginning of April 1914, as recorded in letter C6557. The pages of the kobya ledger are made of thin translucent paper, ideal for this type of imprinting job, and which would then form an archive for part of the inspectorate’s written record. Letter C7040 above also demonstrates how the tasks were delegated by the inspector – it appears that Boulos did not write the letters himself but dictated them to his then-clerk, Labib Effendi Mishriki. Furthermore, it is evident that the inspector was away from the office for a significant amount of time, assigning much of the routine office work to his clerk as he dealt with issues on site. A simple count of the letters in the ledger finds that the largest percentage was related to routine bureaucratic work that involved ordering and replenishing office supplies (>30), money transfers and mailing in inventories (>50), issuing permits to dig quarries and to remove sebakh (>35) and letters that dealt with salaries, travel and accommodation slips and insurance vouchers (>60 letters). The remainder of the letters’ contents concerned on-site activity, particularly investigations into encroachments, conducting excavations, as well as interacting with communities that lived alongside areas with archaeological remains.

The letters aggregated in the ledger give us rare insight into the structural framework of the relatively nascent Egyptian Antiquities Service as it widened its grip and sought to exercise control over the country’s heritage and through which a second-class inspector such as Boulos was meant to navigate. On the micro-level the ledger brings us up close to an Egyptian antiquities inspector and the issues he grappled with as he managed and inspected archaeological sites in Middle Egypt and the neighbouring Western Desert, including the types of relationships that were forged under colonialist governance. Additionally, it opens up a much larger discussion about the implications and significance of this type of hidden work which was being carried out in parallel with the more visible western excavations and surveys, but which for the most part remains unacknowledged.

Anecdotes from the Field

As is the nature of any governmental institution, a considerable amount of bureaucratic work went into the functioning of the Antiquities Service and its numerous inspectorates very early on in its formation. At the same time, incidents that were of a more dynamic nature were those that took place on-site in the districts supervised by Boulos. They bring to light the type of issues that he, and other inspectors like him, were encountering and engaging with on a daily basis. In this section, we will outline a number of these stories.

In a case involving several back and forth correspondences between Boulos, the Director General of Antiquities, the Bashmofatish and the Director of the Girga District, Boulos investigated the whereabouts of what he believed were the remains of a temple that had been removed from a village around Tima (fig. 2). In May 1914, he travelled to Tima following reports that a number of large stones had been found underneath one of the village houses. Of the opinion that the stone blocks had not in fact been taken from Kom Isfaht as the report suggested, he recruited one of the village notables along with a police officer to conduct a secret investigation in order to uncover the site where the stones had originally been taken from (C6668). A few days later he was able to identify the site with certainty. He writes (C6673):

I was able to identify the area where the temple with reliefs and inscriptions was taken from. The place is an area of land owned by the government in the village of Banaweet in the Sohag Governorate, and it is very close to the house of the omda [=the village headman]. The person who found the remains is Mohammed Abdel-Aal and his house is close to where the temple is located. The land consists of the remains of a kom with an elevated area where the tomb of a sheikh is situated.

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Fig. 2.

A letter by Tewfik Boulos (C6668) addressed to the Director General of Antiquities outlining a plan of action to uncover the looting of an alleged temple near Tima. Dated 14 May 1914 (photo: © Ayman Damarany).

Through a plan he devised with the sheikh ghaffir and another assistant to trick the omda, Mohamed Abdel-Aal’s wife and other villagers, Boulos was able to get hold of a detailed description of the stone blocks and learn of their eventual sale to a Monsieur Lewis Hirs for L.E. 20. The blocks were eventually confiscated in Cairo (C6702). At the end of July, he wrote to the Service and stated that in his point of view the area where the residents claim the temple blocks were found in Banaweet should not be excavated further, since despite its low ground level there appear to be no other visible remains. He suggested that the adjacent kom be investigated instead and also requested that it be listed as an archaeological site (C6822).

Another case of looting concerns illegal digging at Deir el-Muharraq linked to the antiquities dealer Yacoub Khalil (C6276). Boulos believed that Khalil had stolen antiquities from the archaeological site and hid them in his store which had no license to operate. The Malawi police officer, however, refused to file a police report against Khalil and removed the red wax that Boulos had placed to seal the dealer’s store. Boulos accused the police officer of complicity and was adamant that an investigation should be made regarding the officer’s conduct (C6459). Despite being unable to gather evidence against the police officer, he nonetheless suggested that the dealer’s shop be shuttered, and its antiquities confiscated (C6497).

In both cases, we can discern the pivotal role that Boulos played in not only uncovering the whereabouts of a site with possible archaeological significance (if its labelling as a temple is to be believed), but also his decision-making with regards to larger archaeological issues, such as his suggestion that the kom in Banaweet be registered as antiquities land. Incidents such as these helped to slowly stitch together the tapestry of the country’s archaeological landscape. The covert investigations carried out by Boulos point to the different types of roles that he was expected to perform as a local inspector of antiquities – not only did he inspect and monitor sites and artifacts, but he also performed the role of a police investigator. This was in fact a duty that Maspero ⁵² had believed to be essential if inspectors were to carry out their jobs efficiently, ⁵³ and it is possibly the reason why in many of Boulos’ reports about looting and illicit dealings, he is eager to carry out a proper investigation. His occasional reference to the complicity of some of the police officers points to the existence of incidents of tension between these two governmental bodies.

Antiquities guards or ghaffirs, whose duty it was to guard archaeological sites and protect them from potential destruction or looting, were frequently on the frontlines of conflicts that erupted between the Antiquities Service and possible encroachers or looters. Entries in the ledger during Boulos’ term as an inspector of Sohag demonstrate the hastiness with which ghaffirs, pushed to implement the new policies of the Antiquities Service that were meant to protect archaeological sites, became scapegoats when clashes arose. In one such case, an individual who used a fake name and address sent numerous fabricated complaints to the Sohag inspectorate about the ghaffir of Sheikh Ibada in an effort to get him fired. Boulos discovered that the person sending the complaints had in fact been involved in illicit sebakh removal at the site and was disconcerted that the ghaffir was reporting his violations (C6692). In February 1915, a dispute occurred in Deir el-Ganadlah (fig. 3), Assiut, when a police officer accused the ghaffir, Shindi Sulayman, of breaking the veil of the wooden statue of the Virgin Mary in Deir el-Azra, which is located in the nearby desert – an accusation endorsed by Louca, the priest of the Monastery (C7009). Boulos disputed this claim, writing:

Since it is important for the Antiquities Service to determine the validity of the accusations against its employees, I went today, the 17th, to Deir el-Ganadlah and conducted some inquiries, some official and some personal, and discovered that the accusations are false.

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Fig. 3.

A letter by Tewfik Boulos (C7009) addressed to the Bashmofatish of Antiquities in Assiut about the incident of vandalism in Deir el-Ganadlah. Dated 19 February 1915 (photo: © Ayman Damarany).

He continues that ‘three Coptic witnesses testify that priest Louca who made the accusations, was in the village church on Sunday and not in the desert church’ (C7025) and so could not possibly have seen Sulayman. In a follow-up to the incident Boulos clarified his actions (C7051):

I did not defend the ghaffir just for the sake of defending as the police officer claims, but I was defending the truth. And as you know, if there was any truth to this, I would have been the first one to punish this ghaffir, since it is important for me to preserve an old Coptic place of worship, in addition to it being a partially ancient site. However, the entire matter is fabricated, and I am sorry to say that the police officer’s behavior has confirmed my doubts about him, that he is protecting the person who fabricated the charges.

Boulos believed the police officer was holding a grudge against the ghaffir, who had earlier filed a complaint against the officer following a heated argument between the two. In retaliation, the police officer decided to investigate the incident at the church in a personal capacity, clearly in an effort to frame Sulayman. Boulos’ concluding remarks state that:

It is possible that the concern of the police officer with this matter was because the charge was with regards to a religious building, and the current circumstances force him to show this concern, but why then does he want to fire this ghaffir, even though he knows very well that he is innocent.

Once again Boulos conducts inquiries in a police-like manner by searching for evidence and leveling accusations against certain individuals with malicious intent and against police officers for complicity. Also of interest is Boulos’ hint at his Coptic background, and his assertion that the incident strikes a personal chord and as such it is absurd for the chief inspector to assume that his defense of the ghaffir was merely to spite the officer. A further insight from this story is that it appears to suggest that this was a time of sectarian tensions, alluded to in Boulos’s statement about the police officer showing heightened concern for the church’s vandalism due to the ‘current circumstances’. The reasons for this are unclear but could relate to grievances against British rule and a worsening economy as a result of the war, when perhaps minorities became an easy target.

While the two letters above show Boulos coming to the defense of the ghaffirs, in other scenarios ghaffirs are routinely punished for lax or suspicious behavior, highlighting the existing power hierarchies. In a letter addressed to the guards of el-Arabah el-Madfouna dating to March 1914, Boulos forbade the ghaffirs from writing letters directly to the chief inspector, with threats of severe punishment should this occur again (C6313). The ghaffir of el-Ashmounein, Hassan Gibali, was also reprimanded and had eight days deducted from his pay after he allowed his brother to illegally remove sebakh (C6643). Two ghaffirs in Gebel Assiut, asked by Boulos not to show coffins and mummies recently discovered in the area to visitors, were also punished when they failed to heed his instructions and the objects were damaged as a result (C7026). In the Western Desert, the ghaffirs guarding the Temple of Hibis in el-Nadoura had several days’ pay deducted from their salary after Boulos discovered that they regularly left their posts and travelled to el-Kharga to visit their families (C6546). Moreover, ghaffirs working for western archaeologists also came under scrutiny from the Service. In a letter to the chief inspector, Boulos informs him that he has learnt that a certain ghaffir had been hired by Mr. Borchardt in Derwa (C6586). He writes:

Given that this ghaffir was previously employed by the Antiquities Service and fired because we were able to prove that he was involved in the theft of antiquities, please inform Mr. Borchardt to fire him immediately and hire someone else.

Similarly, during an investigation into illegal sebakh removal in Sheikh Ibada, Boulos discovered that the looters had happened upon a small sphinx in the debris, which they subsequently sold to an individual by the name of Wasih Abdel-Rahman. In a letter to the chief inspector, Boulos requested that the foreign archaeologists who regularly hire Abdel-Rahman as an excavation foreman be informed that they should no longer do so (C6579).

The incidents relayed above show Boulos’ direct involvement with a multitude of problems that were taking place at different localities throughout his inspectorate. He appears to have had a sense of obligation to defend Antiquities Service employees, coming to the defense of the ghaffirs when they were wrongly accused, but simultaneously was quick to condemn them when they were at fault. His behavior, as conveyed through the letters he drafted, can of course be praised for its consistency and integrity (although it is difficult to discount bias given that he was writing his own story). More significantly, the letters shed light on how the relationship between the Service and its own employees (namely the ghaffirs), continued to be volatile during this early period, as the groundwork of the institute and its wide network was still being established. It also appears that Boulos exercised some control over the choices made by foreign archaeologists, monitoring the individuals they hired and, perhaps as a well-informed local who was aware of and integrated into the surrounding social fabric, altering some of these choices. It suggests that western archaeologists were not at complete liberty to hire and fire locals as they saw fit and that the histories of such encounters were more complex.

In addition to apprehending encroachers, tracking looters and keeping a watch on ghaffirs, Boulos was also responsible for practical archaeological matters in the field. In March 1914, while on inspection in el-Nadoura in el-Kharga, he noticed that a tomb in the cemetery of al-Bagawat needed to have a wooden door installed at its entrance and wrote requesting the necessary material (C6445, C6553). He inspected and excavated plots of land to determine whether they contained ancient remains before they could be approved for use in other activities (C6491, C6575, C6725); he inspected the el-Ashmounein cemetery and made decisions on how it should be divided - parts of it should be left untouched, other parts annexed, and a third part used for sebakh removal (C6499); in el-Arabah el-Madfouna he moved several inscribed blocks of stones, one with a cartouche, from the house of one of the residents in el-Arabah el-Madfouna to the Seti Temple (C6592); he ensured the maintenance and cleanliness of certain archaeological sites (C6674); he supervised the removal of houses to the east of the Seti Temple, compensating owners by giving them land elsewhere, and prevented residents from using a road that ran straight across the temple (C6726). At Sheikh Ibada, during the removal of sebakh from a site close to a mountain, he noticed a round ancient structure built of limestone and red brick. Unable to convince the sebakhin to remove the dirt from its interior, he requested extra funds from the Antiquities Service to excavate it himself (C6992). He found three structures in total and described finding one small and one large copper mirror with no handles, a broken plaster face, and other small items that he described as having no value (C7007, C7008).

Part of Boulos’ job as inspector was to closely follow and record sebakh removal. Taking sebakh was a common practice in Egypt during this time, despite its destructive nature and the layers of information about the past that have been lost as a result. Individuals were required to obtain permits, likely submitted to the Antiquities Service through the district’s police station, before sebakh removal from a site was permissible. Ghaffirs were assigned to inspect the process. In June 1914, Boulos writes to the chief inspector regarding a request to remove sebakh from Abydos (C6748):

Morsi el-Sudani submitted a request to take sebakh from el-Arabah el-Madfouna. Is it permitted to take sebakh from any area in el-Arabah? As far as I know, it is forbidden. If it is not permitted in general for anyone, so it is advisable to not give him a permit, because if we grant him a permit as an exception, we will open a door that we will not be able to close.

In a similar case, Boulos refused another request, writing (C6784): ‘Please inform the aforementioned that it is forbidden to remove sebakh from the site of Deir Basira due to its proximity to the tombs’. Such letters demonstrate Boulos’ active role in the implementation of the new sets of rules that had been dictated by the Antiquities Service in order to strengthen its hold on archaeological sites. He was as such in a regular state of mediation and intervention between his (mostly foreign) superiors and his country folk. In the process, new types of relationships and connections were being forged between locals and their surrounding land.

As the sole inspector responsible for the inspection of archaeological sites across three governorates during the early twentieth century, Boulos had a lot of ground to cover. His duty was seemingly to enforce order on the ‘unruly’ provinces which remained detached from the new social order being imposed on the country and its inhabitants as it moved slowly on the path of modernization. Boulos was an early agent of this new change unfolding across the country, where every piece of antiquities land was being quantified and qualified and brought under the state realm. Information was being collected, organized and represented – echoing the drive of the British to reproduce a great land map of Egypt ⁵⁴ – in order that heritage sites be controlled and administered by one central entity. The experiences of Boulos and his daily encounters as he implemented this reorganization and structuring of the archaeological landscape are an important record of the changes transpiring during this period.

Digging Contractors

A common practice during the early twentieth century was to allow private individuals to dig archaeological sites if the Service was short on time and finances. An example of a request is the following letter Boulos sent to the chief inspector (C6705):

I inspected the plot of land that Mohammed Mahdi from Bani Samie would like to dig. The land was found to be agricultural and is planted with corn. The site is small and is located next to the saqiya and probably has no ancient remains. However, the aforementioned insists on his opinion and his desire to dig. After he agreed to the conditions and declared that he will bear all the costs, and due to the insignificance of the matter, I assigned Khalil, the sheikh ghaffir (who will be paid by him), to inspect the digging. The digging will not take more than 2 or 3 days.

In another example, a permit was issued to an individual by the name of Mahmoud Mohamed Bek Abdel-Rahman who paid 6 L.E. to dig for antiquities for ten days in el-Hareedi mountain in Akhmim (C6660, C6747, C6669). A month later, however, Boulos recommended that the Service not renew Abdel-Rahman’s permit citing digging irregularities and substandard practices (C6773, C6920). In some cases, it is the Service that would in fact reach out to individuals to ask them to conduct a dig, such as a request sent to Sayed Bek Khashaba that inquired whether he would be interested in digging an area south of Deir Dirnka that needed to be excavated to determine whether it contained ancient remains (C6721, C6768). Khashaba’s negative reply obliged Boulos to dig the test pits himself (C6798). Another request came from Mohammed Haqi who asked to dig the cemeteries located in the mountain next to el-Sawama – an area previously dug by western archaeologists. Boulos writes (C6804): ‘These are the same areas that were dug by Mr. Whittemore. If the aforementioned Mr. does not intend to dig there again and the Antiquities Service wishes to give a permit to this individual, I do not see a problem.’ In one of the more unusual dig requests, Boulos responded in English to the chief inspector (C6803): ‘This man has wrote [sic] me; he is looking for treasures, following the leadership of the books of Dalil’ ⁵⁵ and as such decides that his request should be refused.

In a matter spanning several months of correspondence, a digging contractor by the name of Tewfik Effendi Fahmi, along with his foreman Akladious Bek Labib, obtained a permit to dig in el-Qaryah bel-Duweir under supervision from the Antiquities Service (C6610, C6613). A month later, however, Fahmi sent a complaint to the Service against the ghaffir hired to monitor the digging. Boulos disregarded the complaint and stated, in a letter to the chief inspector, that the ghaffir was only dutifully carrying out his job and ensuring that artifacts were not being taken covertly (C6694). A few weeks later, tensions escalated when the sheikh ghaffir accused Fahmi of digging in an area where he had no permit to dig (C6728). A copy of the report (fig. 4) written by the sheikh ghaffir who apprehended Fahmi and his team is found in L128 (C6737):

During my inspection, I found the individuals, whose names are written above, digging in antiquities land in Nag el-Hamdiya with a basket and hoe….Tewfik Effendi Fahmi, told me that these individuals work for him and that he has a general permit to dig and carry out test pits in the entire area. I asked him for this permit, but he did not show it to me. Additionally, they broke into a tomb and removed from it bones and lots of fabric.

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Fig. 4.

A copy of the letter (C6737) written by the sheikh ghaffir of Girga to Tewfik Boulos complaining about the actions of Tewfik Fahmi in Nag el-Hamdiya. Dated 16 June 1914 (photo: © Ayman Damarany).

In response, Boulos asked the chief inspector to withdraw Fahmi’s permit due to this violation (C6729) and a few days later wrote to the mudiria (=directorate) asking that they investigate the perpetrators and the individuals that showed negligence (C6732). In a final attempt to withdraw Fahmi’s permit, Boulos again wrote to the Bashmofatish and stated that not withdrawing the permit would cause irreparable harm to the archaeological sites and allow Fahmi to continue his partnership with antiquity thieves (C6738). It is unclear whether Fahmi’s permit was withdrawn at the end of this altercation or whether he continued to dig, but in a letter dated to the end of July, Boulos wrote to Tewfik Effendi Fahmi and informed him that, prior to any division of finds, he is first required to send all objects discovered at el-Qaryah bel-Duweir to the Cairo Museum (C6810).

Similar tensions occurred with Sayed Bek Khashaba (mentioned earlier), who appears to have been contracted regularly to dig archaeological sites. While it seems that initially a good working relationship was in place, as attested by earlier letters in the kobya ledger, following several exchanges between the two, Boulos described Khashaba to the chief inspector as an unpleasant man who ‘wishes to take over everything that comes out of the mountain, whether he dug it out or not’ and ‘does whatever he wants’ (C6995). It appears, however, that this view was not shared by the chief inspector, given that a few months later, Boulos responded to a request from him to issue a dig permit to Khashaba (C7015):

Yesterday evening, I received your letter number 2309 dated to the 22nd of this month, in which Sayed Bek Khashaba requests that he begin digging in the trench on the 25th of this month. Since there was no time to assign someone to monitor the dig, especially given the presence of conflicts with others, please notify the Bek to postpone the dig until I receive other instructions from the Antiquities Service. Due to the limited time, I ask that the inspectorate secretary explain this to Sayed Bek verbally. I have written a telegraph to Mr. Ogar in el-Mansoura asking for a postponement.

Later he continued his attempts to stop Khashaba’s prospective dig by stating that the area in fact lies within another person’s property (C7016).

The letters illustrate the wide prevalence of these little-known commercial digs, which were for the most part unrecorded and their details and results unpublished, but which existed in parallel with the scientifically sanctioned western excavations and digs that dominated the archaeological landscape. Boulos’ records help bring these contractual excavations to light, revealing the diverse digging practices that characterized this time period including the people involved, the artifacts that were uncovered, and the conflicts and tensions that erupted. It also brings into focus the differential treatment of ancient sites during this time, with sites deemed by the authorities to hold more historical significance mostly destined for exploration by western archaeologists, while those viewed as being less important or no longer needed by western scholars reluctantly given to local entities.

A Recalibration of Relations; Antiquities versus Villagers

At the turn of the century in Egypt, ‘social reformers’ sought to change to the ‘better’ in the social practices of farmers, women and other subordinates in order to move towards ‘a healthy, productive and efficient population - appropriate to the progress of the modern world’. ⁵⁶ At the same time, Boulos, with his middle class background, status as an effendi, and employee of the state, was representative of this drive to alter the relationship of the villagers, who remained outside the new overarching bureaucratic apparatus, with the antiquities that they had lived alongside for generations. This becomes evident in many instances recorded in the kobya ledger. In el-Ashmounein, for instance, Boulos needed to explain to the omda and village notables that antiquities land needed to be demarcated, and that they should not encroach upon it (C6531). Implied in several of the letters is the responsibility that was entrusted to the omdas to prevent illegal digging or encroachments on archaeological sites in their villages. ⁵⁷ Failing to report such violations in good time, or turning a blind eye, led to questioning by authorities and being held in contempt. For example, in March 1914, when Boulos notified the Abnoub Station about illegal agricultural activity in an archaeological area, he requested that ‘the omda of the aforementioned area be questioned about the reasons Farag was able to plant this plot of land’ (C6502). Similarly, Boulos accused the omda of another village of deliberately delaying a report about unauthorized removal of sebakh by residents of his village, that resulted in the disappearance of the entire archaeological site along with any objects it could have contained (C6605). In the case of the limestone blocks belonging to a temple in Banaweet, mentioned above, Boulos accused its omda of taking part in the transaction and writes (C6673):

This type of omda poses a danger to the work of the Antiquities Service and to security in general. As such I firmly request that he be stopped or punished severely so that he serves as an example to other omdas.

Furthermore, he wrote to the Girga Directorate and requested that they look into the matter of this omda and send him a reminder of what his duties entail (C6702). In the case of Tewfik Effendi Fahmi, the private digger mentioned above, Boulos held the omda accountable for the negligence that occurred (C6728):

The Antiquities Service notifies the mudiria [=directorate] about each and every digging permit, and the mudiria in turn notifies the omda of that specific village to allow the digging to proceed. Why then did the omda allow these individuals to dig even though he had not received any information about them from the mudiria. Please look into the matter of this omda who is responsible for what happened.

Despite these grievances, as expressed by Boulos, it is also clear that he and others in the Antiquities Service relied upon the support of the omda to resolve conflicts with villagers with regards to archaeological sites or ancient artifacts. For example, when Boulos travelled to el-Arabah el-Madfouna to inspect a stone block located in the house of one of the villagers he is accompanied by the omda, certainly as a way to legitimize his presence and avoid any potential conflict (C6571). In July 1914, Boulos wrote to the chief inspector, commending the omda for removing encroachment violations of farmers on antiquity land in el-Hag Qandil (C6782). During his inspection of the cemetery at el-Ashmounein, mentioned above, his decision on which parts should be annexed and which should be left intact, is carried out in the presence and with the consent of the deputy omda and village notables (C6499).

While he showed respect at times for the omda and village notables, at other times Boulos did not shy away from hiding his discontent with, and at times disdain for, many of the village and town residents as well as other non-sedentary groups whom he interacted with regularly and considered ‘unruly’. Illegal digging by residents living near archaeological sites was common, and Boulos spent a significant amount of time travelling throughout his districts to apprehend villagers and send reports to the district prosecution (eg. Deir el-Kalabat C6652; el-Idara C6301; Deir el-Anba Shenouda C6653). In November 1914, he sent a letter to the Bashmofatish concerning the request by the residents of Nag Qandil to dig sebakh. The area had previously been dug by the Germans, and as such residents had been forbidden by the Antiquities Service from removing sebakh from the site. Boulos wrote, however, that owing to the fact that ‘the people of Nag Qandil are evil’ they persisted to cause trouble over the matter. He does, however, suggest that sebakh permits be issued to the residents, given that the site is no longer being excavated by the Germans, but only if the removal process is closely supervised by guards (C6903). Another sebakh controversy occurs in el-Monshah after Boulos uncovered a plot by the village residents, who had successfully petitioned the Antiquities Service to prevent sebakh removal, only so they themselves could benefit from the sale of sebakh illegally (C6793).

Apparent as well is his lack of sympathy for Arab nomads (‘orbān) who he found difficult to monitor and control. He accused them of conducting illegal activity in Sheikh Ibada (fig. 5), having removed a piece of plaster that contained Coptic inscriptions from a hilltop monastery (C6318). They had also set up camp in an area adjacent to an archaeological site, north of Sheikh Ibada, which worried him. He writes (C6436):

Given that it is feared that these nomads will spread, as is their nature, to the kom, especially that they have at the moment around 40 tents, if there exists government land that contains no antiquities, they can transfer to it. Better yet, the mudiria should assign someone who will ensure that the area is cleared, and who can demarcate another area for them with set boundaries and a reduced rent, so that they do not claim ownership in the future and do not build any structures.

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Fig. 5.

A letter (C6318) from Tewfik Boulos addressed to the Bashmofatish of Antiquities alerting him to the fact that nomads have settled in an area near Sheikh Ibada. Dated 19 March 1914 (photo: © Ayman Damarany).

Towards the end of the year, Boulos wrote to the Malawi police station again complaining of Arab nomads who had set up camp next to antiquities in Deir el-Bersha and suggested that they be removed and placed in an area close to town, so that they do not have the opportunity to gradually expand their camp onto archaeological land (C6935).

These sorts of records reveal that tensions were often rife between representatives of the Antiquities Service and residents/farmers residing in areas with archaeological remains or nomads who came to the area temporarily. Boulos, in many cases, portrays the villagers negatively suggesting that there was a need for better methods of control and punishment, and which mirrored authoritative sentiments at the time that aimed to remedy the Egyptian character whose minds and bodies needed order, discipline and training. ⁵⁸ He was an intermediary who, acting on behalf of the Antiquities Service, sought to police heritage and control the people’s relationship with it, thus ‘repairing the ills of society’ and contributing to the growth of a modern nation through the use of novel techniques, ⁵⁹ but within the parameters set up by the colonizing powers. In such a way, and similar to the process of the detailed mapping of land and property in Egypt’s countryside that had been administered by the British, ⁶⁰ heritage was also being closely mapped, monitored and its people regulated - and Boulos was playing an active role in the process and ultimately in the production of archaeological heritage spaces. The roles played by intermediaries and go-betweens against the backdrop of socio-political changes has been brought forth by a number of different studies. ⁶¹ For example, Carruthers writes about the important role of go-betweens post-1952 when it came to the preparation and outfitting of the dig house at the site of Mit Rahina. In this instance, the American mission had to reckon with the fast changing Egyptian political and social landscape in order for their dig to proceed. This meant, among other things, working with and heeding advice from Egyptian go-betweens, with civility playing an essential role, in order for credibility to be gained. ⁶² In this case, the intermediary role helped to assert the country’s newly gained independence vis-à-vis foreign archaeologists. In the case of Boulos, he was one of a contingent of new gatekeepers of heritage and early practitioners during this time period whose goal was to implement tangible changes across these archaeological spaces through the use of homogenous strategies that would serve to protect and preserve.

Discussion

Tewfik Boulos’ kobya ledger brings to light the complexities of the day-to-day working life of an Egyptian antiquities inspector and his lived experiences during the early part of the twentieth century. Written throughout its pages are the myriad actions, practices and encounters that form part of his history and the history of Egyptology during the country’s transformative period as it entered into the ‘modern’ era. Through an incorporation of these overlooked practices and experiences, a more holistic and grounded narrative that challenges the traditional discourse of the history of the field can be accomplished. A narrative that goes beyond western archaeologists and the discovery of ancient sites and objects, to incorporate the perspective and work of intermediaries, such as Boulos, among other actors. In Boulos’ case, regular negotiations and the social tensions they elicited were an integral part of his performance in the field, and which in turn left lasting effects on the country’s heritage spaces.

While acknowledging the limits of archival material in furnishing us with complete answers to inquiries about the past and particularly as it relates to the history of Egyptology, what is immediately apparent from the examination of the above documents is its potential to enrich and augment our current understanding. It allows us to reconsider long-held binaries that place the west in a position of dominance and locals in positions of subjugation or irrelevance. It now becomes possible to offer a more multifaceted history that takes into account a larger number of actors and reinterprets their contribution and histories in light of more inclusive methodologies and approaches to the study of the field.

Boulos’ journey as an inspector of Sohag has exposed the intricacies of the work he carried out as an employee of the Antiquities Service. In the office, and along with his staff, he handled the everyday organization of the inspectorate, including writing inventories, releasing salaries, and making decisions on permits – in other words, taking care of the operational aspects of Egyptian archaeology and keeping the wider field in operation. In the field, Boulos’ engagement with the wide-spread archaeological sites he was responsible for inspecting, as well as his varied interactions with employees, villagers and other local and foreign individuals, reveal the plethora of issues he grappled with in order to monitor and maintain these sites. Illustrated is the amount of effort that went into keeping such areas intact and safe from looting and possible destruction, including the negotiations that took place, both at the top levels of correspondence that involved arbitration with other governmental institutions such as the police, and at the basic level through regular mediation with villagers and ghaffirs. These accounts and documented occurrences call into question the view that Egyptians, during Egyptology’s formative years, were absent or uninvolved in archaeological practices.

Similarly, the records also underline the ways in which Boulos was very much a part of the socio-political context of the period. Archaeological and heritage sites were being (re)shaped by a new constellation of notions and intents, as these spaces were gradually being regulated and brought under the control of a central authority and removed from the old network of public consumption, which had involved locals and non-locals alike. The stories that unfolded during this period of transformation, with Boulos as one of the protagonists driving this change, expose a much more complex and heterogeneous landscape that was far from static or linear. Ghaffirs, villagers, local authorities, digging contractors and foreigners all played a part in shaping the history of the discipline with its many versatile components during the early part of the twentieth century. These histories can at times be disregarded when a classical approach to the history of Egyptology is considered, and which has traditionally centered western scholars, spectacular finds, and exceptional archaeological sites. By incorporating the wide array of different actors involved, a more sophisticated and inclusive social history of the discipline can be written.