The Post-Modern Problem in Egyptology

Do not be so open-minded that your brains fall out. G. K. Chesterton (1874–1936).

Image: Bookworm's Notebook » Postmodern Literature: A Reader’s Guide to Narrative Techniques, Key Authors, and Theoretical Perspectives

Post-modern ideas dominate academic departments today. The 'post' to modernism's self-critical core is a fixation, examining what psychiatrist Carl Jung called the 'shadow,' which is whatever we deem evil, inferior, or unacceptable and therefore deny in ourselves. Academic archaeology and Egyptology have transformed themselves into the study of the experiences of individuals and societies perceived as marginalised by privileged white males.

For example, Joyce Tyldesley's biography of Hatshepsut explores how ancient Egypt's most powerful woman was long dismissed or misunderstood by predominantly male Egyptologists.[1] She argues that early scholars dismissed Hatshepsut's reign, often portraying her as a usurper or manipulative regent, mainly because her successful kingship challenged Victorian ideals of gender roles. Tyldesley presents Hatshepsut as a competent and visionary ruler whose historical erasure, such as the systematic defacement of her monuments, was echoed in modern academic reluctance to recognise female authority in antiquity.

Toby Wilkinson (The Rise and Fall of Ancient Egypt (2010)) discusses how Egypt was historically viewed through a Eurocentric lens, positioning it as a stepping stone to Greek civilisation rather than a civilisation in its own right. He notes that early Western historians, mainly elite white men, dismissed the African identity of Egypt and often overlooked its indigenous traditions in favour of classical sources. By focusing on the lived experiences of ordinary Egyptians, from scribes to farmers, Wilkinson attempts to restore some humanity to a population considered to be long overshadowed by monumentalism and exoticism.

Although not a formal Egyptologist, Egyptian feminist and physician Nawal El Saadawi writes passionately in Memoirs from the Women's Prison (1986) about the expurgation of Indigenous Egyptian voices, especially women, from narratives controlled by Western scholars. In essays and speeches, she challenges the dominance of white male Egyptologists who define ancient Egypt through Orientalist or colonial frameworks, arguing instead for reclaiming Egypt's past by Egyptians themselves, especially women, whose contributions were doubly marginalised.

The question is, have such views improved our understanding of ancient Egypt, a highly religious society? Ancient Egyptian religion was not simply a system of gods and temples; it was a profoundly philosophical worldview grounded in a sacred order of beings where everything in the cosmos had meaning and purpose. At its core was nominism, the belief that names held intrinsic power. To name something in ancient Egypt was to define its essence and participate in its reality. This is why the names of gods, kings, and even ordinary objects were inscribed everywhere: a name invoked presence and maintained cosmic order, or ma'at. From this perspective, language itself was divine, created by the god Thoth, the patron of writing, wisdom, and time. Egyptian religion also approached the concept of universals in a practical yet metaphysical way. The gods were not just personifications but embodiments of cosmic principles—such as justice (Ma'at), destruction (Sekhmet), or creation (Atum)—operating in both divine and human realms. These principles were not abstract concepts as in later Greek philosophy; they were alive, active forces in the world. Even numbers, colours, and directions carried divine resonance.

The Egyptians also held a sophisticated animistic view of the universe, where animals, plants, rivers, and stars were infused with heka or sacred power. Stones could remember, statues could speak, and the Nile itself was a living being. This wasn't primitive superstition but a holistic philosophical framework in which divinity flowed through all matter. As Egyptologist Jan Assmann puts it, Egyptian religion was a "cosmotheism", a vision in which the divine was not remote but present in everything from temple rituals to the daily flooding of the Nile (The Search for God in Ancient Egypt, 2001). In this world, living ethically was to align with the sacred geometry of existence, which was a profoundly spiritual, symbolic, and philosophical engagement with reality.

Post Modernism has been described as a process of deconstructive nihilism and an intellectual discourse framed by 'isms' - Marxism,^[2] Feminism,^[3] and Afro-centrism^[4] , all philosophies where religion is considered a social, not a metaphysical or philosophical phenomenon. Post-modernism manifests in an abundance of narratives designed to purify or cleanse the modern academic from the wrongs of the past by putting moral distance between the writer and the evils of such things as colonialism, the non or under-representation of women, and the exclusion of non-white ethnic groups from history.

In place of scientific objectivity, academics must now demonstrate an awareness of their own privilege, bare their chests and scream self-doubt, and adopt sackcloth and ashes to show empathy with the marginalised peoples of the past they believe they are studying. Archaeology and Egyptology were caught between the cross-hairs of science and religion when it began; now, it is caught between the trigger-hairs of nineteenth-century positivism and the post-modern meta-narrative of history, which considers all history suspect.

Being pressed between the opposing notions of subjectivity and objectivity creates a dilemma for the modern academic; how can one address the requirement to consciously self-critique to identify personal bias'^[5] the need for scientific objectivity, and the desire to write a compelling narrative? In truth, it is an impossible ask. The only way out is to fix on the narrow and easily defendable subject matter, use lots of technology to maintain the illusion of science and focus on catalogues and compendium volumes that describe objects, archaeological sites, and complete historical epochs by stating only what cannot be challenged. This makes studying anything related to the gods and sacred numbers dangerous territory. The safe way forward is searching for the earliest evidence of something - writing, basketwork, or beer making, for example; looking at anything to do with the lives of women - hair, cosmetics, childbirth, etc.; or carefully examining something securely obscure such as the incidence of votive mud balls in pre-dynastic graves.

Carl Jung believed that the human shadow, the unconscious part of the psyche that contains repressed instincts, desires, and socially unacceptable traits, is a necessary object of study but must be approached with balance, courage, and ethical awareness. He warned against fixation on the shadow because of the dangers of becoming consumed by what one is trying to confront.

In Jung's framework, the shadow is not inherently evil; it contains all the parts of ourselves we deny or fail to integrate. Confronting it is essential for individuation, the process of becoming a whole and authentic self, but its role in academic discourse is rarely discussed. However, Jung emphasised that simply exploring or identifying the shadow is insufficient without a conscious effort to integrate its contents into the ego and personality in a responsible way because the shadow can overpower the individual, leading to projection, moral collapse, or ego inflation (when one identifies with unconscious archetypes and loses personal perspective). "One does not become enlightened by imagining figures of light, but by making the darkness conscious," said Jung in Alchemical Studies.

He also warned that over-identifying with the shadow or becoming fascinated with its darkness can cause psychological imbalance or lead to destructive behaviour. For Jung, the task was not to wallow in the shadow or idealise it but to face it honestly, understand it, and bring its energy into constructive alignment with the conscious self. In short, studying the shadow is vital, but fixating on it without integration is dangerous. As Jung put it, those who look too long into the abyss risk becoming part of it. The true goal is not to become the shadow but to befriend it and transform its contents into wisdom.

In recent decades, the rise of post-modernism in the humanities has sparked fierce debate—and nowhere has its impact been more polarising than in fields like Egyptology. Originally introduced as a critique of grand narratives and power structures, post-modernism encouraged scholars to question objectivity, authority, and truth assumptions. While this shift opened meaningful conversations about colonialism, representation, and cultural bias, it also left some academic disciplines adrift. In Egyptology, where rigorous analysis of ancient texts, languages, and material culture is essential, postmodernist influence has often undermined the empirical foundation of the field.

One major issue has been the relativisation of knowledge. When all interpretations are treated as equally valid, the distinction between evidence-based scholarship and speculative theory becomes blurred. As Egyptologist John Baines cautioned, excessive focus on discourse analysis and theoretical frameworks risks detaching Egyptological research from its material roots (High Culture and Experience in Ancient Egypt, 2000). Rather than deepening our understanding of ancient Egyptian society, such approaches can obscure it behind layers of jargon and abstraction.

Moreover, post-modernism has encouraged a form of hyper-critical scepticism toward expertise. As post-modern theorists challenge the idea of "truth" as a construct of power, traditional Egyptology is sometimes dismissed as a colonial or Eurocentric imposition. While it's vital to interrogate the field's colonial past, as scholars like Donald Malcolm Reid (Whose Pharaohs?, 2002) have done constructively, post-modern critiques often go further, treating the discipline itself as ideologically suspect.

This intellectual climate has contributed to fragmentation and politicisation in Egyptology departments. Debates are no longer just about ancient history but about who has the right to speak for the past. As scholar and critic Helen Pluckrose puts it, post-modernism's suspicion of truth "has corroded the credibility of academic disciplines" (Cynical Theories, 2020), leaving students and scholars alike struggling to balance critical inquiry with academic rigour.

G.K. Chesterton's famous warning, "Do not be so open-minded that your brains fall out, "is often invoked in critiques of post-modernism. Chesterton's quip is not an attack on intellectual curiosity but a satirical jab at relativism pushed to absurdity, a hallmark criticism of post-modern thought, which, while valuable in exposing colonial narratives, gender bias, and Eurocentrism, often goes too far, rejecting the very notion of knowable reality. In the name of openness, post-modern thinkers sometimes fall into epistemic nihilism, where no claim to truth is more valid than another. Chesterton's quote serves as a sharp reminder: intellectual openness must be tethered to reason, and evidence or else critical thinking collapses into incoherence.

Philosopher Roger Scruton warned that post-modernism fosters a "culture of repudiation," where traditional forms of knowledge are deconstructed without offering meaningful alternatives (Fools, Frauds and Firebrands, 2015). Similarly, Helen Pluckrose and James Lindsay argue that post-modernism's radical openness has "undermined confidence in evidence, reason, and universalism" (Cynical Theories, 2020). When every interpretation is treated as equally valid, even discredited or harmful ideas can gain legitimacy under the banner of "plurality" when the political frame fits.

In academic disciplines like Egyptology, unchecked post-modernism reduces this once glorious ancient culture to subjective texts divorced from archaeological or linguistic evidence. While it's crucial to remain open to multiple perspectives and challenge dominant narratives, Chesterton's quote reminds us that openness, like all virtues, must have boundaries; otherwise, the very idea of scholarship loses its grounding. Without some shared standards of evidence, even the most open-minded inquiry risks becoming meaningless.

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[1] Joyce Tyldesley – Hatchepsut: The Female Pharaoh (1996)

[2] The idea of cultural progress comes from both Evolutionary theory, the adaption of Charles Darwin's biological explanation of development and the ideas of Karl Marx. Marxist theory is used to describe and explain changes in material culture.

[3] Gender and feminist archaeology emerged in the 1980s and is the study of ancient Egyptian women and other genders through the conceptions of gender and feminist theories.

[4] Afrocentrism is a cultural ideology or worldview that focuses on the history of black Africans. It is a response to global Eurocentric attitudes about African people and their historical contribution; it revisits their history with an African cultural and ideological focus.

[5]Quirke, S. Exploring Religion in Ancient Egypt, Willey Blackwell, 2015, p. 26.