All posts for the month January, 2018

Shutrukids and Elamites

Published January 30, 2018 by amaic
Image result for elamites

Horrible Histories: Suffering Shutrukids!



 Damien F. Mackey



But, more strikingly, I draw attention to the succession of Shutrukid rulers of Elam of the era of Merodach-baladan I who can be equated,

as a full succession, with those of the era of Merodach-baladan II.



A crucial part of my revision of ancient history, of shortening it significantly so as to eliminate those unwanted ‘Dark Ages’, has been my folding of the C12th BC into the C8th BC – a logical consequence, I would think, of Dr. I. Velikovsky’s earlier folding of the C14th BC (El Amarna) into the C9th BC.

And it appears to have art-historical support. For previously I had written on this:   


Art, Architecture and Other Overlaps


Revisionist scholars have argued for an overlap of the art and architecture of both (supposedly) historical periods in question here – but eras that I am suggesting need to be fused into one. The likes of professor Lewis M. Greenberg (“The Lion Gate at Mycenae”, Pensée, IVR III, 1973, p. 28); Peter James (Centuries of Darkness, p. 273); Emmet Sweeney (Ramessides, Medes and Persians, p. 24), and others, have all come to light with art-historical observations of striking likenesses between art works of the 13th-12th centuries BC, on the one hand, and the 9th-8th centuries BC art and architecture, on the other. I, in my postgraduate university thesis,


A Revised History of the Era of King Hezekiah of Judah

and its Background



quoting P. James, wrote as follows about this art-historical overlap (Volume 1, Ch. 7, p. 181):


I should like to recall that my revision of this actual period of Mesopotamian history may have some degree of art-historical support; for, as already noted in Chapter 3 (p. 81), James claims to have found artistic likenesses between the C13th-12th’s BC and the neo-Assyrian period  – though admittedly the data is scarce [Centuries of Darkness, p. 273]: ….


Developments in art are also difficult to trace. Not only is there a dearth of material, but styles on either side of the gulf between the 12th and 10th centuries BC are curiously similar. One scholar noted that the forms and decoration of the intricately carved Assyrian seals of the 12th century are ‘clearly late’, as they ‘point the way to the ornate figures which line the walls of the Neo-Assyrian palace of Assurnasirpal [mid-9th century BC]’. The sculptors employed by this king, in the words of another expert on Assyrian art, ‘worked within a tradition that went back to the thirteenth century BC’. Not surprisingly, then, the dating of the few sculptures which might belong to this grey period has been hotly debated.

[End of quote]


The most remarkable evidence for the need of such a C12th BC into C8th BC folding are the Elamite kings, a succession of three of whom in the C12th BC appear to re-emerge, again in succession, in the C8th BC.

This sort of strange ‘afterglow’ is commonly encountered in history, but is simply accepted as a coincidence by the conventionalists.


This is what I wrote on the Elamite kings:


The Elamite/Shutrukids


In 1985, Lester Mitcham had attempted to identify the point of fold in the Assyrian King List [AKL], necessary for accommodating the downward revision of ancient history. (“A New Interpretation of the Assyrian King List”, Proc. 3rd Seminar of C and AH, pp. 51-56). He looked to bridge a gap of 170 years by bringing the formerly C12th BC Assyrian king,  Ninurta-apil-Ekur, to within closer range of his known C14th BC ancestor, Eriba-Adad I. In the same publication, Dean Hickman had argued even more radically for a lowering, by virtually a millennium, of formerly C19th BC king Shamsi-Adad I, now to be recognised as the biblical king, Hadadezer, a Syrian foe of king David of Israel. (“The Dating of Hammurabi”, pp. 13-28). And I myself have accepted this adjustment in:


Hammurabi and Zimri-Lim as Contemporaries of Solomon


Prior to all that, Dr. Immanuel Velikovsky had of course urged for a folding of the C14th BC Kassite king {and el-Amarna correspondent}, Burnaburiash II, with the C9th BC Assyrian king, Shalmaneser III, who had conquered Babylon. (Ages in Chaos, Vol. I, 1952).

And there have been other attempts as well to bring order to Mesopotamian history and chronology; for example, Phillip Clapham‟s attempt to identify the C13th Assyrian king, Tukulti-Ninurta I, with the C8th BC king, Sennacherib. (“Hittites and Phrygians”, C and AH, Vol. IV, pt. 2, July, 1982, p. 111). Clapham soon realised that, despite some initially  promising similarities, these two kings could not realistically be merged. (ibid., Addenda, p. 113). Whilst all of these attempts have some merit, other efforts were doomed right from the start because they infringed against established archaeological sequences. Thus Mitcham, again, exposed Sweeney’s defence of Professor Heinsohn’s radical revision, because of its blatant disregard, in part, for archaeological fact. (“Support for Heinsohn’s Chronology is Misplaced”, C and CW, 1988, 1, pp. 7-12).

Here I want briefly to propose what I think can be a most compelling fold; one that


(a) does not infringe against archaeology, and that

(b) harmonises approximately with previous art-historical observations of likenesses  between 13th-12th centuries BC and 9th-8th centuries BC art and architecture. And it also has the advantage – unlike Mitcham’s and Clapham’s efforts – of

(c) folding kings with the same name.


I begin by connecting Merodach-baladan I and II (also equated by Heinsohn – as noted by Mitcham, op. cit.), each of 12-13 years of reign, about whose kudurrus Brinkman remarked (op. cit., p. 87, footnote 456):


Four kudurrus …, taken together with evidence of his building activity in Borsippa … show Merodach-baladan I still master in his own domain. The bricks recording the  building of the temple of Eanna in Uruk …, assigned to Merodach-baladan I by the British Museum‟s A Guide to the Babylonian and Assyrian Antiquities … cannot now be readily located in the Museum for consultation; it is highly probable, however, that these bricks belong to Merodach-baladan II (see Studies Oppenheim, p. 42 …).

[End of quote]


My proposal here involves a C12th to C8th BC fold.


But, more strikingly, I draw attention to the succession of Shutrukid rulers of Elam of the era of Merodach-baladan I who can be equated, as a full succession, with those of the era of Merodach-baladan II. Compare:


C12th BC


C8th BC
Shutruk-Nahhunte Shutur-Nakhkhunte






Hulteludish (or Hultelutush-Insushinak)


‘Hallushu’ (or Halutush-Inshushinak).



This is already far too striking, I think, to be accidental. And it, coupled with the Merodach-baladan pairing, may offer far more obvious promise than have previous efforts of revision. ….


New evidence might even suggest that the C8th BC Shutur-Nakhkhunte, whom I have coupled with the C12th BC, Shutruk-Nahhunte, might better be named also as Shutruk-Nahhunte. This would, then, further strengthen my comparisons.

Thus we read at:


In 710 (year 12), the king of Elam came to the aid of the king of Babylonia, Merodach-baladan. There is a problem concerning his name in the Annals: he is named Humban-nikash on one occasion and Shuturnahhunte on several others. …. There are some contradictions between the Assyrian and Neo-Elamite inscriptions concerning this period, in particular the confusion between Shutur-nahhunte and Shutruk-nahhunte. …. The chronology concerning the Sargon period is now well-established: Humban-nikash I (743–717) and his successor Shutruk-nahhunte II (717–699), wrongly named Shutur-nahhunte in the Assyrian texts; Shutur-nahhunte reigned ca. 645–620. According to the Babylonian Chronicle, “Shutruknahhunte (II), his sister’s son (of Humban-nikash) ascended the throne in Elam.”97 Consequently, the name of Humban-nikash in the Annals for 710 (year 12) was a scribal error because this king had died in 717.

The sources for the reign of Shutruk-nahhunte II are the Neo-Elamite inscriptions and the Assyrian and Babylonian records, all of which differ on some points. In his own inscriptions, the Elamite king reported that he led successful campaigns to enlarge his territory, endowed temples, and set up stelae for the gods. According to the Assyrian sources, the allies of Merodach-baladan and Shutruk-nahhunte were first defeated. ….

Antiochus IV ‘Epiphanes’ and Antiochus Epiphanes ‘Philopappus’

Published January 23, 2018 by amaic
Image result for emperor hadrian grecophile


 Damien F. Mackey



“The name of Hadrian’s host at Athens has not survived, but we can make a guess. One possibility is Gaius Julius Antiochus Epiphanes Philopappus.

He was one of a breed of rootless multimillionaires in whom Greek, oriental, and Roman cultural attitudes mingled”.



Already we have considered, in a set of articles, such suspicious likenesses, or “mirror image” reflections, between the Roman loving Seleucid, Antiochus IV ‘Epiphanes’ and the emperor Hadrian the Grecophile:

Antiochus ‘Epiphanes’ and Emperor Hadrian. Part One: “… a mirror image”


Antiochus ‘Epiphanes’ and Emperor Hadrian. Part Two: “Hadrian … a second Antiochus”


as to wonder – with quite some conviction – whether (from a revisionist’s perspective):


“Hadrian simply was Antiochus!”


Does not Hadrian even replace Antiochus ‘Epiphanes’ in certain Rabbinic traditions as the foreign tyrant king of the Maccabees?: “The tyrant in the rabbinic versions, however, is not Antiochus Epiphanes but Hadrian: Hadrian came and seized upon a widow …” (S. Eliyahu Rab. 30); “In the days of the shemad [the Hadrianic persecutions]…” (Pesiq. R. 43)”.


Again, in Part One of this particular set:


Antiochus IV ‘Epiphanes’ Doubled


we came across another C2nd BC (conventional dating) “King Antiochus IV ‘Epiphanes’ of Commagene (Armenia) and Cilicia Tracheia”, who was, suspiciously like the Seleucid king Antiochus IV ‘Epiphanes’ of the same era, “born to a king Antiochus III”.


Now, supposedly three centuries later than this, we encounter a third Antiochus ‘Epiphanes’ (with some suspiciously late Republican Roman name elements, too: Gaius Julius) who we find to have been contemporaneous with the emperor Hadrian. And, again, “in whom Greek, oriental, and Roman cultural attitudes mingled”.

Although this new Antiochus is considered to have been a person separate from Hadrian, but a friend of the emperor’s, ‘their’ contemporaneity is, in our new context of Hadrian as potentially Antiochus IV ‘Epiphanes’ himself, most intriguing.


The following is a conventional account of our ‘new’ Antiochus during Hadrian’s visit to Athens:





In 112 Hadrian made his way to Athens for an extended stay. This is his first recorded visit, although (as has been seen) it is possible that his father took him there when a young child. Also, he may have been in Athens a few years before, during the fallow period after his consulship. A man of some importance in the state, Hadrian doubtless journeyed in style with a considerable entourage; it was the done thing for elite wives to accompany husbands on their travels, so the little-loved Sabina was probably present.



After the short ride from Piraeus—or possibly walk, for he enjoyed exercise—Hadrian arrived at his destination. Once through the city gates, Hadrian found himself in a broad avenue, the Panathenaic Way; on either side were colonnades, with statues of famous men and women along their front, as the street passed through an industrial district, the Kerameikos, or Potters’ Quarter, and led into the Agora, or marketplace.


Hadrian was well aware that Athens had long lost its political importance, but it was a cultural center with a thriving intellectual life: a rough modern analogy would be Paris in the first half of the twentieth century. This was what appealed to him. Civic buildings also contained countless works of art. In the Propylaea, the grand (and still very beautiful) marble gateway up to the Acropolis, there was a picture galley. On every corner there were shrines, temples, statues, and altars. It was as if the city was a vast open-air museum celebrating the achievements of Greek civilization.


The rich and well connected did not expect to stay at the various inns and hostels that could be found in most cities. A local worthy—perhaps a friend or acquaintance—or government official would offer generous hospitality. The name of Hadrian’s host at Athens has not survived, but we can make a guess. One possibility is Gaius Julius Antiochus Epiphanes Philopappus. He was one of a breed of rootless multimillionaires in whom Greek, oriental, and Roman cultural attitudes mingled.

His name contains his history: “Gaius Julius” signifies Roman citizenship, but he was of Asiatic origin, being the grandson of Antiochus IV, the last king of Commagene, a region of ancient Armenia just to the east of Cilicia … one of the wealthiest of Rome’s tributary kings. ….


His grandson was evidently fond of him, for his cognomen Philopappus means “lover of his grandfather.” He spent most of his time in Athens, where he became an Athenian citizen and a member of the Besa deme, or district. A generous patron of the arts, he funded cultural and athletic events. Philopappus took care to keep his lines open to senior government officials; he became a Roman senator and was a suffect consul in 109.


This was a man who enjoyed living lavishly and prominently—as his other cognomen, Epiphanes, or “illustrious,” indicates. He became a celebrity in the modern sense of the word, famous for nothing in particular except for conspicuous expenditure. The Athenians nicknamed him King Philopappus. Hadrian became a good friend of his and Sabina made much of his sister, a poet and bluestocking, Balbilla. The siblings will have been of special interest to him, for magic had been a family tradition: two of their ancestors were celebrated astrologers ….

There had been no emergency—political, military, or personal—forcing Hadrian to take to sea during the perilous winter months, so we may assume that he traveled in late spring—say, from May onward. He was well received, for almost immediately the Athenians offered him citizenship, which he accepted without demur, and, as with Philopappus, made him a member of the Besa deme. They then awarded him their highest honor, appointing him archon, or chief magistrate: only a handful of leading Romans had been so distinguished …. The official year ran from summer to summer and Hadrian took office immediately.

The new archon was soon hard at work, helping to ensure that the Panathenaic Games of 112 were a success. Philopappus was doubtless on hand to offer support (we know he was interested, for at some stage in his career he was appointed agonothetes, or games producer). The games were held every four years in the year preceding an Olympiad, in the height of the summer. Both body and mind were tested to the extreme.


Hadrian, the inveterate Grecophile, is here even described as looking just like a Greek, like “a true Hellene and Ionian”:


He devoured the pursuits and customs of the Athenians, having mastered not merely rhetoric, but other disciplines too, the science of singing, of playing the harp, and of medicine: [he was] a musician, geometrician, painter, and a sculptor from bronze or marble who was next to Polycleitus and Euphranor [in artistry]. Indeed, like those things in a way, he, too, was refined, so that human affairs hardly ever seem to have experienced anything finer.

Now in his mid-thirties, Hadrian was in the prime of life. He was tall and very strongly built, but elegant in appearance, with carefully curled hair. According to Dio Cassius, he was “a pleasant man to meet and possessed a certain charm.”

His features were reasonably good-looking, with a strong nose, high cheeks, and puckered eyebrows. He looked about him with an alert, even suspicious gaze. Flatterers said that his eyes were “languishing, bright, piercing and full of light,” signs of a true Hellene and Ionian. ….