Why Queen Hatshepsut's Statues Were Really Destroyed
For years, we thought her stepson tried to erase her from history. But new research says something very different.
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| Head of Hatshepsut / Image Credit: MET |
Queen Hatshepsut’s story is unlike any other in ancient Egypt. She wasn’t supposed to rule—but she did. She wasn’t supposed to thrive—but she did. And centuries later, she wasn’t supposed to be remembered—but here we are, still uncovering pieces of her life and legacy. For many years, historians portrayed her posthumous story as a tale of betrayal: a strong woman brought down by her jealous stepson, Thutmose III. But now, thanks to fresh insights from historian Jun Yi Wong, that story is changing.
Instead of a tale of revenge, this might actually be a story of ritual. Of tradition. Of beliefs so deeply rooted in ancient Egyptian culture that even a female pharaoh’s statues weren’t exempt.
Who Was Hatshepsut?
To understand her legacy, let’s start with the basics: What’s the definition of Hatshepsut? She was born around 1507 BCE, the daughter of Pharaoh Thutmose I. After marrying her half-brother Thutmose II and bearing a daughter, she served as queen. When her husband died, his son Thutmose III (by another wife) was still a child. Hatshepsut stepped in to rule as regent—but eventually, she took full control and crowned herself pharaoh. A woman ruling Egypt as king was almost unthinkable at the time.
But Hatshepsut didn’t just rule—she flourished. Her reign lasted about 20 years, during which Egypt experienced peace, wealth, and grandeur. Her bold decision to become pharaoh and govern in male form, even wearing a false beard in official statues, was revolutionary.
A Legacy in Stone
The accomplishments of Hatshepsut were nothing short of incredible. She ordered massive construction projects, like the stunning temple at Deir el-Bahri, which still amazes visitors today. She opened up trade routes—including a famous expedition to the mysterious land of Punt—and brought home riches like incense, gold, and exotic animals. Under her rule, Egypt thrived.
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| The Mortuary Temple of Hatshepsut at Deir el-Bahri / Image Credit: Wikimedia |
She built. She governed. She led. So why were so many of her statues smashed and buried? Why were her names scratched out from the walls of temples?
A Death Wrapped in Mystery
So, how did Hatshepsut die? That remains one of Egypt’s lingering mysteries. Most scholars believe she died around 1458 BCE. Medical evidence points to health issues—possibly diabetes, cancer, and even a skin condition. Traces of medicated lotion were found in a tomb associated with her. But even more mysterious is what happened after she died.
As if she’d never ruled at all, her images were hacked away, her name erased, and her statues smashed. For decades, the prevailing theory was simple: her stepson finally took the throne and decided to wipe her from history in a fit of long-awaited revenge.
But it turns out, the truth might be far more complex—and more fascinating.
A Ritual, Not Revenge?
Jun Yi Wong, a historian who published his findings in Antiquity, offers a fresh take. He doesn’t deny that some of Hatshepsut’s monuments were intentionally defaced. But he believes many of the broken statues weren’t victims of hate—they were part of a ritual.
In ancient Egypt, statues were more than just symbols. They were living embodiments of the pharaoh’s spirit. Egyptians believed these stone forms could continue to wield power even after death. That’s why priests and workers sometimes deliberately “deactivated” statues—breaking them in specific places like the neck, waist, or feet—to prevent a dead pharaoh’s spirit from influencing the world of the living.
This wasn’t just superstition. It was sacred practice. A way to maintain order between life and death.
The Karnak Cachette: A Burial Ground for Statues
Wong’s theory is supported by one of Egypt’s most fascinating finds: the Karnak Cachette. Discovered in the early 1900s, this hidden chamber near the Karnak Temple contained more than 800 statues—many of them broken. Not just Hatshepsut’s, but statues of other rulers from across centuries. The similarities in how these statues were damaged tell a story: these weren’t random acts of destruction. They were deliberate, ceremonial deactivations.
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| The Courtyard of the Cachette / Image Credit: Wikimedia |
“Deposits of deactivated statues have been found at multiple sites in Egypt and Sudan,” Wong notes. This proves that the practice was common. It wasn’t personal—it was religious.
But What About the Erasure?
Still, there’s no denying that Hatshepsut was targeted more than most. While her statues might have been ritually deactivated, the campaign to remove her name from temples and walls was brutal—and intentional.
“There is no doubt that Hatshepsut did suffer a campaign of persecution,” Wong explains. Her images were scratched out, her cartouches removed, and even her legacy as a pharaoh was tampered with. This wasn’t just religious practice. It was political.
So, why would Thutmose III do that?
The Politics of Power
Rather than being a bitter stepson, Thutmose III may have been a calculated ruler trying to protect his own legacy. He ruled for more than 50 years, most of that time after Hatshepsut’s death. Her reign was unconventional, and perhaps even controversial to some. As a male ruler trying to reinforce traditional pharaonic order, Thutmose might have seen her legacy as a challenge to his own.
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| Upper part of a statue of Thutmose III / Image Credit: MET |
“Early Egyptologists assumed that Thutmose III must have harbored intense hatred towards Hatshepsut,” Wong says. “But this is unlikely.” It’s more plausible that he acted strategically—to solidify his reign and define it apart from hers. Not personal hatred, but political necessity.
The Achievements of Hatshepsut Live On
Despite the efforts to erase her, the achievements of Hatshepsut still echo through time. Her temple at Deir el-Bahri stands tall. Her trade routes reshaped Egypt’s economy. Her defiance of gender roles made her an icon. She ruled with vision, with confidence, and with an eye on the future.
And thanks to modern research, her story is being retold with more honesty and nuance than ever before.
Rewriting Her Story
The latest discoveries don’t just change what we know about Hatshepsut—they change how we see the past. They remind us that ancient Egypt was not just kings and pyramids, but a deeply spiritual and complex society where power, religion, and legacy were woven together.
Hatshepsut didn’t simply vanish. She was ritually “retired,” politically sidelined, and buried under the sands of time—only to rise again in the spotlight of modern research.
A Queen Who Refused to Be Forgotten
So much of Hatshepsut’s story is about defiance. She defied expectations by becoming pharaoh. She defied tradition by ruling as a woman. And now, even in death, she defies the silence imposed on her legacy.
Her statues may have been broken, but her memory has endured. Not just in temples and tombs, but in the minds of historians, the pages of books, and now—perhaps most fittingly—in the rituals and beliefs of the people who once tried to erase her.
Because sometimes, the past finds a way to speak for itself.
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