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HECATAEUS OF MILETUS FR. 310 JACOBY: A DISPLAY OF COLLECTIVE GREEK IDENTITIES IN EGYPT OR A NAVIGATION MANUAL?

Published online by Cambridge University Press:  31 July 2025

Alexander Fantalkin
Alexander Fantalkin*
Affiliation:
Tel Aviv University
*
fantalk@tauex.tau.ac.il
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Abstract

This article deals with Hecataeus of Miletus fr. 310 Jacoby, featuring a curious list of islands located along the Nile, and bearing Greek names such as Ephesus, Chios, Lesbos, Kypros and Samos. Scholars generally assume the list, composed in the late sixth or early fifth century, represents joint Greek emporia established on Egyptian soil, thereby serving as a reliable testimony to the emergence of collective Greek identities during the late Archaic period. The composition of the list, along with the contemporary historical, cultural and archaeological contexts of its place names, is examined with particular emphasis on the collective identities of the islanders. On this basis, it is contended that the list lacks any evidence pertaining to Greek commercial footholds or collective identities in Egypt. Rather, fr. 310 serves as a practical navigational mnemonic, delineating culturally familiar geographical landmarks to assist Greek sailors in traversing a complex foreign river passage. The fragment now emerges as a valuable historical document, illuminating Greek navigational knowledge and practices during the late Archaic period.

Keywords

Hecataeus of MiletusEgyptGreeceArchaic periodcollective identityislandersnavigation

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Type
Research Article
Information
The Classical Quarterly , Volume 75 , Issue 1 , May 2025 , pp. 58 - 74
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This is an Open Access article, distributed under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution licence (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/), which permits unrestricted re-use, distribution and reproduction, provided the original article is properly cited.
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© The Author(s), 2025. Published by Cambridge University Press on behalf of The Classical Association

1. INTRODUCTION

In fr. 310 Jacoby of Hecataeus of Miletus, who was active in the late sixth–early fifth centuries, a curious geographic list of Nile islands can be found:Footnote 1

ἔστι καὶ Ἔϕεσος νῆσος ἐν τῷ Νείλῳ, καὶ Χίος καὶ Λέσβος καὶ Κύπρος καὶ Σάμος καὶ ἄλλαι, ὡς Ἑκαταῖος.

There is also an island of Ephesus on the Nile, as well as a Chios, a Lesbos, a Kypros, a Samos, and others, as Hecataeus says.

Given the scarcity of early Greek writings concerning Egypt, this list is significant, potentially providing a rare glimpse into Greek-Egyptian interactions during the late Archaic period. Apparently from one of Hecataeus’ major works, the Periodos Gês, this fragment suggests that during Hecataeus’ time or earlier, Greek toponyms were attributed to an island group in Egypt, located either in the Nile Delta or southwards on the Nile River. Furthermore, the expression καὶ ἄλλαι suggests that, in addition to those enumerated, there existed other Nile islands bearing Greek names.

Most of the Periodos Gês fragments, including this one, reached us via the sixth-century geographical lexicon Ethnica by the grammarian Stephanus of Byzantium. Footnote 2 The book may have been originally divided into descriptions of several landmasses called Periêgêseis.Footnote 3 Fr. 310 Jacoby belongs to a Periêgêsis Aigyptou, which Herodotus used extensively in his Egyptian logos.Footnote 4 In addition to Herodotus, however, the historical data we have concerning Greek encounters with Egypt during the Archaic period is admittedly modest.Footnote 5 Hecataeus’ fragments relating to Egypt therefore deserve careful consideration.

In examining the potential implications of Hecataeus of Miletus’ assertions in fr. 310, its historical reliability needs clarification. Scholarly reservations were once voiced regarding the preserved Hecataeus fragments, but following Jacoby’s publications,Footnote 6 their authenticity is no longer doubted.Footnote 7 Another issue that warrants clarification is the attribution confusion present in later historical sources regarding Hecataeus of Miletus and the fourth-century Hecataeus of Abdera.Footnote 8 Is it possible to ascertain definitively the authorship of fr. 310, when both Hecataeus of Miletus and Hecataeus of Abdera produced works concerning the geography of Egypt? First, Hecataeus of Miletus’ preserved passages are written in a uniform style, short and informative (like fr. 310), which is markedly different from Hecataeus of Abdera’s style. Secondly, Hecataeus of Abdera’s geographic passages dealing with Egypt contain no detailed description of the Nile River.Footnote 9 At this stage, we may reasonably conclude that fr. 310 is a reliable late archaic testimony authored by Hecataeus of Miletus.

Many historians have engaged in extensive debate regarding whether the Periodos Gês is a prototype Periplous—literally ‘sailing around’, which refers to a practical maritime navigation itinerary that follows the coastline—or whether it should be understood as an ethnographic history, serving as a historical precursor to Herodotus’ Histories.Footnote 10 Most surviving Periodos Gês fragments consist of brief geographical passages citing the place names, their specific location and some occasional ethnographic information. Jacoby offers a cogent argument that Hecataeus composed primarily a work of geography, which bears a resemblance to the extensive periegetic literature that emerged in later periods. Nonetheless, Jacoby noted that the initial manifestations of an ethnographic style are not foreign to this book either.Footnote 11 In Burstein’s opinion, the Periodos Gês treated geography, religion, customs and natural history. It was organized ‘as a coastal description of the Mediterranean with the accounts of its hinterlands being structured around the ascent of great rivers’.Footnote 12 The central question is whether the list in fr. 310 constitutes a credible testament to the emergence of collective Greek identities in Egypt, or whether it reflects a form of geographic pragmatism, in which Greek sailors employed familiar Greek nomenclature as navigational aids for identifying landmarks along the Nile.

Lloyd and Braun interpret the information provided by fr. 310 as indicative of the existence of Greek trading establishments (emporia) in Egypt.Footnote 13 Consequently, the Greek place names documented therein reveal a sense of allegiance to their respective places of origin, suggesting the tangible presence of Greeks from various islands and cities that actively engaged in commerce with Egypt.Footnote 14

Malkin accepts this view,Footnote 15 and suggests that the notion of independent Greek emporia mentioned in fr. 310 reflects a situation that existed prior to the charter of Naucratis by Amasis, that is before 570.Footnote 16 Accordingly, the representatives of these emporia were concentrated in a single place in Naucratis during Amasis’ reign (see more on this below).Footnote 17 Shipley’s alternative reconstruction posits that prior to the establishment of Naucratis, all the trade between Greece and Egypt was conducted through the emporion of Samos, located on one of the Nile’s islands.Footnote 18 Furthermore, an additional proposal suggests that the Kypros referenced in fr. 310 may pertain to a mercenary encampment of Cypriot origin located in Egypt.Footnote 19

These reconstructions do not heed Austin’s caution regarding a comparable list from a later period. In discussing Pseudo-Scylax’s listing of islands near Africa’s northern coast, Austin warns that ‘the use of Greek names to describe far-away places is no guarantee of their Greekness’.Footnote 20 In relation to Hecataeus’ portrayal of Egypt in the Periodos Gês, as well as in his other work, the Genealogiai, Burstein adopts an even more sceptical stance. He argues that the principal leitmotif in Hecataeus’ depiction of Egypt is the emphasis on the imaginary Greek roots of Egyptian civilization, thereby establishing connections to Greek heroes and their progeny. Consequently, Burstein suggests that the list of names in fr. 310 should be interpreted as Hecataeus’ deliberate projection of contemporary Greek toponyms onto the geography of Egypt, serving to construct a Greek-centric perspective of Egyptian society.Footnote 21

This article aims to elucidate the motivations underpinning the naming conventions within the list by examining its composition and reviewing the contemporary historical, cultural and archaeological contexts of the place names included. Through this exploration, the study seeks to ascertain the nature of this document and to accurately evaluate the significance of fr. 310 as a historical record of Greek-Egyptian relations during the late Archaic period.

2. THE LIST COMPOSITION AND THE COLLECTIVE IDENTITY OF ITS NAMED ISLAND INHABITANTS

Ephesus

The listing in fr. 310 begins with the island of Ephesus. The prevailing interpretation that the Greek cities mentioned herein engaged in trade with Egypt inherently suggests the traders from sixth-century Ephesus established their official emporion on one of the islands of the Nile. However, aside from a solitary documented instance concerning the dissemination of the cult of Artemis of Ephesus within a colonial context,Footnote 22 there exists no substantive evidence to support the assertion that Ephesus officially participated in the establishment of distant colonies across the sea.Footnote 23 Similarly, Ephesus is not referenced in contemporary literary sources as a city engaged in the establishment of overseas commercial enterprises. Furthermore, Ephesus is absent from the roster of Greek city-states that were involved in the founding and administration of Naucratis.

The doubt surrounding the presence of Ephesians in Egypt is strengthened by evidence from the Neutron Activation Analysis (NAA) of Ephesian pottery. The results demonstrate that pottery originating in Ephesus’ workshops was not widespread beyond the area of Ephesus proper in the Archaic and Classical periods. Most importantly for our considerations here, during this period, Ephesian pottery is not found in Egypt.Footnote 24 In light of these observations, it is highly unlikely that Ephesians established a commercial entrepôt on an island in the Nile.Footnote 25

The special case of Lesbos

Subsequent to Ephesus, the list in fr. 310 proceeds with the islands of Chios, Lesbos, Kypros and Samos. This assemblage of landmarks is regarded by some not merely as geographic designations, but as embodying a more comprehensive concept: namely, that all inhabitants of these islands shared a collective identity within the context of Egypt, even in instances where individual islands housed multiple poleis. Constantakopoulou assembles several examples that indicate how the collective identities of the islanders occasionally overrode the polis identity.Footnote 26 Likewise, Malkin’s insights elucidate how the collective identities of the island inhabitants were shaped by their physical detachment from their respective islands of origin. He underscores the importance of distance in creating the Greek settlement network: ‘Awareness of “sameness” occurs not when people are close to each other (in fact, that is when they pay particular attention to their differences) but when they are far apart. It is distance that creates the virtual centre. The more the connecting cables are stretched, the stronger they become.’Footnote 27

Nonetheless, even if we accept that the list of islands in fr. 310 faithfully represents the traders’ origin cities, the reference to the island of Lesbos on the Nile, presumably an emporion of the island of Lesbos, appears anomalous. Malkin comments: ‘Mytilene, a Lesbian polis, had a share in the Hellenion but it is “Lesbos” that may have functioned as an emporion on the Nile.’Footnote 28 In his opinion, based on the circumstances, the Mytilenians had no problem with adopting the pan-Lesbian identity, indicated by setting Lesbos’ name on the Nile or to the contrary, to emphasize their city-state identity, as in the case of the Hellenium in Naucratis.Footnote 29

Among all the Greek islands, however, Lesbos was perhaps the most consistently internally divided.Footnote 30 This famous divisiveness existed not only during the Archaic and Classical periods but in later periods as well.Footnote 31 Even in the days of the establishment of the Lesbian koinon, that is, the federation of Lesbian city-states that was mainly active during the Hellenistic/Roman period,Footnote 32 the outstanding differences between the Lesbian cities still remained.Footnote 33

At the beginning of the Archaic period, Lesbos hosted at least six main city-states: Mytilene, Methymne, Pyrrha, Antissa, Eresos and Arisbe.Footnote 34 Already c. 700, the people of Arisbe were enslaved by their kinfolk of Methymne.Footnote 35 Methymne maintained its power in later periods. But Lesbos’ most dominant polis was Mytilene, which behaved differently from its neighbours.Footnote 36 Spencer observes that, in contrast to Lesbos’ other poleis, the Mytilenians generally refrained from investing in conventional endeavours, such as monumental construction and demarcating boundaries, to visually assert their authority. Instead, its citizens cultivated an image of power through heightened engagement in international activities, encompassing trade and providing mercenaries.Footnote 37 This perspective is reinforced by Bresson’s earlier analysis, which elucidates the striking power imbalance among the various poleis of Lesbos; it was the cities with the most substantial agricultural land reserves that exhibited relative weakness, often remaining in the shadow of—and at times even subservient to—those that pursued commercial ventures.Footnote 38 Consequently, it is not surprising that, apart from Mytilene, no other Aeolian city participated in the establishment of the Hellenium at Naucratis.

This division within Lesbos is similarly evidenced in the coinage of the Archaic and Classical periods. In the late sixth century, an unidentified number of Lesbian poleis were involved in coin production, mainly intended for local circulation.Footnote 39 Methymne also produced a civic silver issue, while Mytilenians produced a joint electrum issue with Phocaea, between about 521 to 326.Footnote 40 The pronounced separatism of the Mytilenians, which may even be characterized as a form of arrogance, is rendered even more conspicuous when considered in the context of references to the lists of Olympic victors.Footnote 41 In this context, the Mytilenians emphasized their urban identity, prioritizing it above their collective identity. Thus Lesbos’ four victorious Olympic Games competitors are defined as representatives of Mytilene rather than of Lesbos as a whole.Footnote 42

This intentional separateness contrasts with the manner in which Olympic victors from other multi-poleis islands, such as Rhodes, Keos, Kos and even Crete, articulated their identities.Footnote 43 The inhabitants of Rhodes, for instance, achieved considerable success in Olympic contests, with Leonidas of Rhodes emerging as the most illustrious champion, having secured victory in twelve events. Despite the existence of three distinct poleis within Rhodes, the record of victors does not delineate the specific urban affiliations of each champion, even before the island’s synoikismos in 408/407.Footnote 44 References to victors from the island of Keos also reflect this practice. Here too, although Keos comprised at least four distinct poleis, these individual urban identities are not accentuated in the records of Olympic victors.Footnote 45 On the contrary, a competitor who achieved victory in 540 is designated as being from Keos, with no reference to his specific hometown. A comparable situation is documented for Kos’ victors, an island that hosted at least two poleis before its unification in 366.Footnote 46 It is to be expected that, following Kos’ synoikismos, there would be an emphasis on the collective identity of its victors. However, the recorded victories from Kos in 420 and 400 occurred well in advance of this unification.

The Mytilenians exhibited little inclination to emphasize a collective Lesbian group identity. Instead, they capitalized on their rights at Naucratis independently, eschewing collaboration with other cities of Lesbos. Since our focus is the presumed collective identity of the island of Lesbos, or, more aptly, its documented disunity, it is within this context that we should examine the significance of a Lesbian sacred precinct, a joint cult for all the islands’ inhabitants.

The origin of the pan-Lesbian sacred precinct and the pan-Lesbian collective identity

This precinct, apparently also a pan-Lesbian place of refuge, is clearly referred to in the first part of Alcaeus fr. 129 Voigt: ‘The Lesbians founded this precinct, conspicuous and great, for all to share, and therein set altars of the blessed Immortals; and Zeus they entitled God of Suppliants; and you, the Aeolian, Illustrious Goddess, Mother of all; and this third they named … Dionysus, devourer of raw flesh. Come, with friendly spirit, hearken to our prayer, and from these toils and grievous banishment deliver us.’Footnote 47

Numerous scholars assert that the existence of this cult attests to a collective Lesbian identity consolidating as early as the Archaic period.Footnote 48 However, this identity, which is intrinsically linked to an enigmatic cult, is largely confined to the island itself, specifically to a particular location: the sacred precinct that also functioned as a temporary and secure refuge for individuals compelled to leave their communities for various reasons.Footnote 49 During the Archaic period, this was a shared temenos mega, with distinct altars to Zeus, the Mother Goddess and Dionysus.

According to many scholars, Alcaeus’ goddess may be identified with Hera.Footnote 50 Support for this is found in the writings of Sappho, Alcaeus’ famous contemporary. She refers to the trinity of gods, Hera, Zeus and Dionysus, turned to by the Atridae, who stopped in Lesbos on their way home at the Trojan War’s end.Footnote 51 Page deemed it likely that Alcaeus’ illustrious goddess of the Aeolians is indeed Sappho’s Hera.Footnote 52 In other words, both of these references may pertain to that early Lesbian cult. On the other hand, it is also possible that the goddess referred to by Alcaeus was not Hera but Cybele,Footnote 53 since, as Page notes, the establishment of this triple cult in Lesbos is unusual in ancient Greece’s religious landscape. Indeed, based on Plutarch,Footnote 54 it is commonly thought that Hera’s cult was not usually found alongside that of Dionysus, whereas Cybele’s cult was particularly widespread in association with Dionysus.Footnote 55 Page believed that Lesbos’ sacred precinct was initially identified with the Dionysus cult, brought here in an early period from Phrygia and Lydia, and that Zeus and Hera were added to it much later. In Page’s words: ‘It is an obvious possibility that Dionysus preceded the Greek gods in this sanctuary; that the cult of Zeus and Hera did not suppress or supersede the local superstition, but was combined with it.’Footnote 56 In any event, it seems plausible that at least one, if not two, of the significant components of the Lesbos triple cult may be associated with Anatolian influences on Aeolian migrants already during the Protogeometric period or even earlier.

Given the close affinity of the Aeolian dialect to the dialects of Thessaly and Boeotia,Footnote 57 scholars had, until recently, little reason to question the validity of later historical sources regarding the migration of the Aeolians from the Greek mainland to various regions of Asia Minor. It was generally accepted that these sources contained at least some historical truth.Footnote 58 This conceptual framework subsequently faced scrutiny from both archaeological/historical and linguistic perspectives.Footnote 59 Concerning the latter, Parker hypothesized that the Lesbian dialect developed independently in situ from an early form of Greek, devoid of any interaction with mainland Greece. However, Finkelberg has elucidated the difficulties inherent in sustaining this theory. Alongside other scholars, she argues that before the emergence of the Lesbian dialect in the north-eastern Aegean, it was virtually indistinguishable from its Thessalian counterpart.Footnote 60 If Finkelberg’s assertion holds, it would further undermine Rose’s argument challenging the reliability of the Aeolian migration tradition.

It is conceivable that some Aeolian migrants settled on Lesbos already during their eastward journey, while others may have arrived after an extended sojourn in western Anatolia, probably absorbing numerous influences from the neighbouring populations. In this context, it is also imperative to consider the influence of the indigenous population of Lesbos, who inhabited the island during the Late Bronze and Early Iron Ages, concurrent with the arrival of the first Aeolian settlers.Footnote 61 Hittitologists take the name la-az-pa in the relevant documents to be read as Lesbos,Footnote 62 implying a potential degree of interaction between the island of Lesbos and territories within the Hittite sphere of influence.Footnote 63 While over the years, the local population of the island became thoroughly assimilated among the Aeolian newcomers, it is highly probable that certain aspects of their early cultic traditions were transmitted to, and subsequently embraced by, the Aeolians.Footnote 64 In other words, the existence of an Archaic period cult shared by all Lesbians, as reflected in the Sappho and Alcaeus fragments, does not attest to the consolidation of a collective identity. On the contrary, this distinctive cult, which emerged within a notably fragmented insular context, may embody early pre-Aeolian traditions that are apparently associated, among other things, with the provision of sanctuary for persecuted individuals.Footnote 65 These traditions underwent ‘Hellenization’ sometime around the early Archaic period, with Zeus’s name added to the cult.Footnote 66

In sum, the existence of this cult does not signify the consolidation of a collective identity among the island’s inhabitants in the Archaic period. The evidence suggests instead that the various Lesbian communities inherited and adapted an earlier indigenous cult. Given these factors, which complicate the notion of a pan-Lesbian collective identity both in the Archaic period and subsequently, how is it possible to interpret Hecataeus’ reference to Lesbos in fr. 310? Is it reasonable to posit the establishment of a joint emporion of all Lesbians on the Nile during the course of the sixth century? Might it be more plausible to suggest that this was exclusively a Mytilenian initiative, wherein they suddenly embraced a collective pan-Lesbian identity, notwithstanding their consistently articulated polis identity in all recorded instances? Both scenarios appear unlikely when evaluated in light of the aforementioned lines of inquiry.

Chios, Samos and Kypros

If fr. 310 indeed represents the presence of Greek trade emporia on the Nile, in contrast to Lesbos, the reference to Chios and Samos presents no problem in terms of island identity. Despite the existence of several urban settlements on the respective islands, by the end of the Archaic period, the collective self-consciousness of their inhabitants often superseded the local urban identity, in contrast to that of the Lesbians.Footnote 67 Thus Chios participated under this name in the establishment of the Hellenium at Naucratis, while it was the Samians who established their own temple at Naucratis. Likewise, in the lists of the Olympic victors, both Chios and Samos competitors always appear under the name of their respective island.Footnote 68

In contrast, the theory positing that the reference to Kypros (Cyprus) in fr. 310 denotes an assumed trading settlement named Kypros presents significant complications. To begin with, extant sources do not reference any emporion or colony by the name of Kypros. It is remotely possible that, during certain periods of the Late Bronze Age, Cyprus may have functioned under a centralized authority, potentially located at Alassa or Kalavasos.Footnote 69 By contrast, throughout the Iron Age, including the sixth century, the island was fragmented into a multitude of small kingdoms, each exhibiting distinct characteristics.Footnote 70 There is no available evidence to suggest that this decentralized politico-economic system facilitated the emergence of any joint commercial external trade initiative capable of uniting the diverse ethnic kingdoms of Cyprus.Footnote 71 Moreover, insofar as possible trade with Egypt during the Archaic period is concerned, Cyprus is not mentioned in connection with Naucratis. Archaeologically too, at least according to Möller’s thorough analysis, their active presence at Naucratis is undetermined.Footnote 72 Although certain quantities of Cypriot pottery (particularly mortaria and amphorae) and limestone figurines have been found at Naucratis, the presence of these widely traded items does not necessarily signify substantive Cypriot engagement in the social or economic life of the settlement.Footnote 73

3. COLLECTIVE GREEK IDENTITIES IN EGYPT OR A NAVIGATION MANUAL?

This study of the intriguing list of place names in fr. 310 of Hecataeus of Miletus reveals scant evidence to substantiate the notion of joint Greek emporia being established on the islands of the Nile during or before Hecataeus’ time. Specifically, among the five place names mentioned—Ephesus, Chios, Lesbos, Kypros, Samos—three place names, namely Ephesus, Lesbos and Kypros, cannot be considered as typical signifiers of Greek collective identities of traders on Egyptian soil. This interpretation raises significant doubts regarding the remaining two place names, implying a comparable improbability that these names represent joint Greek commercial ventures on Egyptian territory. Consequently, this casts doubt on Braun’s thesis that Greeks established their trade emporia on these islands in addition to Naucratis. It further calls into question Malkin’s assertion that these island emporia existed prior to Amasis’ reform, which effectively terminated their operation by concentrating Greek commerce at Naucratis.Footnote 74 This position seemingly disregards Herodotus’ explicit statement on the matter: ‘Originally, there was no other trading-centre in Egypt apart from Naucratis. If someone fetched up at any of the other mouths of the Nile, he had to swear that he had not done so deliberately, and then after making this statement under oath bring his ship round to the Canopic mouth. Alternatively, if contrary winds made it impossible for him to take his ship round, he had to transport his goods around the Delta by baris and get to Naucratis that way. That is how important Naucratis was.’Footnote 75

In other words, by the late seventh century and into the early sixth century, Naucratis emerged as the sole trading port in Egypt wherein Greek merchants were granted the privilege to conduct their commercial activities. Contrary to the prevailing scholarly consensus that Greek trade in the aftermath of Amasis’ reforms was confined exclusively to Naucratis, it appears that, subsequent to these reforms, additional ports for trade with Greece were established within Egyptian territory.Footnote 76 The new data from Thonis-Heracleion, located at the end of the Nile’s navigable Canopic branch with the Mediterranean Sea, supports this idea.Footnote 77 The much broader diffusion of the Greek pottery across Egypt during this period points in the same direction.Footnote 78 This necessitates a thorough re-evaluation. If, as advocated here, the fr. 310 list does not refer to Greek emporia, what is it then describing? Elsewhere, I have raised the possibility that it is a potential navigation itinerary in the style of a Periplous. Thus, the names appearing in fr. 310 were merely geographical landmarks assigned by Greek sailors for navigational purposes.Footnote 79 In the present discussion, I shall further elaborate upon this hypothesis.

The junctures at which the mouths of the Nile Delta branches converge with the Mediterranean Sea are characterized as sensitive coastal zones, wherein the geomorphological framework is subject to continuous reconfiguration, driven by factors such as relative sea-level rise and sediment supply dynamics.Footnote 80 These processes give rise to lagoons and inland lakes in the region spanning between Alexandria and Pelusium, where reefs, small islands, and sand islets emerge to delineate the coastline from the open sea.Footnote 81 The navigational conditions at these branches’ mouths were notoriously challenging in antiquity, attributable to a combination of currents, winds, wave patterns and shifting sandbanks.Footnote 82 The seven mouths of the Nile operational in antiquity—also in Hecataeus’ time—were reduced to two branches, Rashid and Damietta, by the fourth-to-tenth centuries c.e.Footnote 83 These two are still currently active, while the others are either buried below lagoon muds or have been eroded and reworked.Footnote 84

Due to constant sedimentation and erosion, in antiquity there were hundreds of islands across the Nile’s riverscape.Footnote 85 Today there are 144 protected islands, some of which are permanent.Footnote 86 Bunbury postulates that ‘in general, it can be said that the lifespan of an island is only around a century, no more than a few generations, and the consistency with which farms and temples are located on these island environments suggests that folk memory of the way that islands behave informed the location of new developments’.Footnote 87

Given the nature of the evidence presented in fr. 310, it remains impossible to identify the islands that it references within the riverscape of the Nile. These islands may pertain to either the Delta region or to a cluster of significant permanent islands situated further south towards Sudan, or potentially to a combination of both regions. While it is evident that the specific configurations and precise locations of the islands referenced in fr. 310 may have undergone alterations over time, potentially leading to the eventual disappearance of some, it is likely that their appellations and sequential arrangement were conveyed to Hecataeus by contemporary Greeks. These individuals would have been traversing the Nile Delta or further down the river, employing these islands as navigational landmarks. In this context, the so-called ‘island of Ephesus’ situated on the Nile, a designation that has perplexed numerous scholars, may be elucidated through its juxtaposition with the island of Chios, next in the list. During the Archaic period the majority of Greeks residing in Egypt originated from East Greece.Footnote 88 For any experienced East Greek mariner, the assessment of spatial distance between the landmarks of Ephesus and Chios along the Nile could be perceived as a function of time, closely reflecting a voyage distance with which they were most familiar—specifically, the journey from the harbour of actual Ephesus in Asia Minor to the actual island of Chios.Footnote 89 The same principle applies to the references to Lesbos and Samos within the same fr. 310.

The estimation of sailing distances in relation to time, based on the positional relationship of landmarks, was a common practice in antiquity. This is evident from various surviving Periploi and the navigational practices of the Polynesians, which operated according to comparable principles.Footnote 90 For instance, the Periplous of HannoFootnote 91 attests to the method of estimating sailing distances by referencing established routes, since it approximates the distance from Gibraltar to Kerne in relation to the more familiar distance from Carthage to Gibraltar.Footnote 92

While adhering to the principle of comparison, I contend that the fragmented itinerary found in Hecataeus’ fr. 310 possesses a unique character. It transposes a set of navigational landmarks culturally familiar to sailors—points well known in their own maritime traditions—into a foreign context that, while geographically removed from their homeland, would none the less be readily recognizable to them alone. This suggests that Greek sailors applied Greek nomenclature to a series of Nile islands to delineate their relative positions, facilitating the estimation of navigation times along local routes. This practice was grounded in their familiarity with the durations of voyages between well-known destinations in their homeland in eastern Greece.

If my reconstruction is credible, the only anomaly present in fr. 310 pertains to the mention of Kypros, as the island of Cyprus is situated at a considerable distance from East Greece. However, does Κύπρος genuinely pertain to the island of Cyprus, or does it signify something entirely different? The term may also refer to henna (Lawsonia inermis), a perennial shrub belonging to the Lythraceae family and has been esteemed since antiquity, as it continues to be today.Footnote 93 Ancient authors assert that the finest henna was cultivated in Egypt.Footnote 94 The reference to Kypros on the Nile in fr. 310 may denote a locally acknowledged landmark distinguished by the prominent presence of henna shrub plantations.

Another possibility, for which I would opt, is that the name Κύπρος in fr. 310 represents a later corruption introduced by a copyist. In this reconstruction, the name initially communicated to and subsequently adopted by Hecataeus by the East Greek sailors was, in fact, Κύπρις, a synonym for Aphrodite.Footnote 95 The name Kypris appears in the Iliad and is particularly prominent in Sappho’s poems.Footnote 96 The Ionian coast of Asia Minor is punctuated by significant natural landmarks, some embellished with temples that served as navigational references for sailors. A particularly notable landmark is the sanctuary of Aphrodite Oikos in Miletus.Footnote 97 Established in the seventh century on a prominent hill (modern Zeytintepe) two kilometres west of Miletus,Footnote 98 this sanctuary constituted the first visible landmark for ships approaching the city.Footnote 99 If my interpretation of fr. 310 is accepted, then identifying its reference to Kypros with the sanctuary of Aphrodite at Miletus—most probably associated with the name Kypris and presented to Hecataeus as a navigation landmark—offers the most plausible alternative.

The analysis of the nicknames associated with the particular cluster of place names in fr. 310, namely Ephesus–Chios–Lesbos–Kypros/Kypris=Miletus–Samos, offers a compelling analogy to a pericope found in Acts 20. This passage vividly recounts the maritime segment of Paul’s third missionary journey,Footnote 100 illustrating a navigational context that resonates with the geographical landmarks in question: ‘We went ahead to the ship and set sail for Assos, intending to take Paul on board there; for he had made this arrangement, intending to go by land himself. When he met us in Assos, we took him on board and went to Mytilene. We sailed from there, and on the following day we arrived opposite Chios. The next day we touched at Samos, and the day after that we came to Miletus. For Paul had decided to sail past Ephesus, so that he might not have to spend time in Asia; he was eager to be in Jerusalem, if possible, on the day of Pentecost.’Footnote 101

In light of the arguments articulated above, it is plausible to assert that fr. 310 of Hecataeus of Miletus, with its unique and curious list of islands bearing Greek names along the Nile, does not pertain to the establishment of commercial or cultural Greek footholds within Egyptian territory, which would signify joint Greek emporia or collective Greek identities. Instead, it offers insight into Greek navigational practices. The designation of these geographical landmarks serves as a practical navigational mnemonic, designed to facilitate the navigation of a complex river passage. This method, as evidenced in the navigational practices of diverse cultures, relies on the relational positions of known landmarks. It underlines the significance of fr. 310 as a historical testament, which not only delineates a potential route in Egypt grounded in East Greek geographical knowledge, but also encapsulates Greek navigational culture, which framed and expressed maritime expeditions through familiar temporal concepts, distances and nomenclature. It also challenges the prevailing tendency to interpret Hecataeus’ engagement with Egypt teleologically through the lens of Herodotus, rather than assessing it on its own merits.Footnote 102 Fr. 310 Jacoby emerges as a valuable historical document that elucidates Greek navigational knowledge and practices during the late Archaic period.

Footnotes

*

I am deeply grateful to Professor Amir Gilan, Professor Irad Malkin, Dr Matasha Mazis, Barnea Levi Selavan, Dr Dan Mirkin and Dr Udo Schlotzhauer for their constructive feedback, as well as to Professor Patrick Finglass and Dr Marco Perale, CQ editors, for his steadfast dedication and invaluable input in refining the manuscript’s clarity.

References

1 F. Jacoby, Die Fragmente der Griechischen Historiker. Volume 1, Part 1 (Leiden, 1995), fr. 310 at 41.

2 For Fragment 310 Jacoby, see M. Billerbeck and C. Zubler, Stephani Byzantii Ethnica, Volumen II: Δ–Ι (Berlin and New York, 2011), fr. 179 at 190.

3 S.M. Burstein, ‘Hecataeus of Miletus and the Greek encounter with Egypt’, Ancient West and East 8 (2009), 133–46, at 138–9.

4 Burstein (n. 3).

5 M.M. Austin, Greece and Egypt in the Archaic Age (Cambridge, 1970), 11–13; T.F.R.G. Braun, ‘The Greeks in Egypt’, in J.B. Boardman and N.G.L. Hammond (edd.), Cambridge Ancient History III.3: The Expansion of the Greek World, Eighth to Sixth Centuries b.c. (Cambridge, 1982), 32–56, at 33–5.

6 F. Jacoby, ‘Über die Entwicklung der griechischen Historiographie und den Plan einer neue Sammlung der griechischen Historikerfragmente’, Klio 9 (1909), 80–123; ‘Hekataios’, RE VII.2 (1912), 2667–750.

7 L. Pearson, Early Ionian Historians (Oxford, 1939), 33; S. West, ‘Herodotus’ portrait of Hecataeus’, JHS 111 (1991), 144–60; L. Bertelli, ‘Hecataeus: from genealogy to historiography’, in N. Luraghi, (ed.), The Historian’s Craft in the Age of Herodotus (Oxford, 2001), 71–114; T.F.R.G. Braun, ‘Hecataeus’ knowledge of the western Mediterranean’, in K. Lomas (ed.), Greek Identity in the Western Mediterranean (Leiden, 2004), 287–348; Burstein (n. 3).

8 Compare the passage by Hecataeus of Abdera concerning the Jews, preserved in Diod. Sic. 40. Although the original text has not survived, certain fragments are accessible through Byzantine anthologies. Hecataeus’ discourse on the Jews has been preserved in Photius’ Bibliotheca (cod. 244, 380a–381a; Diod. Sic. 40.3.1–6); see R.S. Bloch, Antike Vorstellungen vom Judentum. Der Judenexkurs des Tacitus im Rahmen der griechisch-römischen Ethnographie (Stuttgart, 2002), 29–41; B. Bar-Kochva, The Image of the Jews in Greek Literature: The Hellenistic Period (Berkeley and Los Angeles, 2010), 99–105. This passage concerning the Jews is accompanied by a commentary from Photius, which concludes with an ascribed quotation from Diodorus: ‘As concerns the Jews, this is what Hecataeus of Miletus narrated.’ However, undoubtedly Hecataeus of Abdera was Diodorus’ source, not Hecataeus of Miletus; and this is a clear case of a copyist’s error, whether by Photius or by an earlier copyist; see Bar-Kochva (this note), 105, n. 43.

9 While Diodorus begins his geographical description of Egypt utilizing Hecataeus of Abdera, in describing the Nile he exploits an additional source, apparently Agatharchides of Cnidus: O. Murray, ‘Hecataeus of Abdera and Pharaonic kingship’, JEA 56 (1970), 141–71.

10 P. Helm, ‘“Greeks” in the Neo-Assyrian Levant and “Assyria” in early Greek writers’ (Diss., University of Pennsylvania, 1980), 242–50.

11 Jacoby (n. 6); also Bertelli (n. 7); Braun (n. 7).

12 Burstein (n. 3), 140.

13 A.B. Lloyd, Herodotus Book II: Introduction (Leiden, 1975), 29; Braun (n. 5), 47.

14 In effect, similar assumptions, not mentioned by Lloyd and Braun, were already voiced in scholarly disputes. Thus L. Bürchner, ‘Ephesos’, RE V.2 (1905), 2773–822, contended that as Hecataeus mentioned an island called Ephesus, this indicates that the real Ephesians maintained trade relations with Egypt. Likewise, M.O.B. Caspari, ‘On the Γῆς Περίοδος of Hecataeus’, JHS 30 (1910), 236–48, at 246–7, responding to J. Wells, ‘The genuineness of the Γῆς Περίοδος of Hecataeus’, JHS 29 (1909), 41–52, who doubted the historicity of the Periodos Gês, claimed that the list in fr. 310 contains reliable historical information, since the Greek cities mentioned there were in the vanguard of relations between Egypt and Greece in the Archaic period. Clearly, Caspari’s assumption was based on a list of Greek cities that participated in establishing the Hellenium in Naucratis (Hdt. 2.178), even though the place names in fr. 310 are not identical to that list.

15 I. Malkin, ‘Pan-Hellenism and the Greeks of Naukratis’, in M. Reddé, L. Dubois, D. Briquel, H. Lavagne, F. Queyrel, R. Bedon and P. Barral, (edd.), La naissance de la ville dans l’antiquité (Paris, 2003), 91–5.

16 Hdt. 2.178.

17 I. Malkin, A Small Greek World: Networks in the Ancient Mediterranean (Oxford and New York, 2011), 84.

18 G. Shipley, A History of Samos, 800–188 bc (Oxford and New York, 1987), 86.

19 B. Carpez-Csornay, ‘A relationship in flux: Egypt and Cyprus during the Iron Age’, RDAC (2006), 213–22, at 215 n. 7.

20 M. Austin, ‘From Syria to the Pillars of Herakles’, in M.H. Hansen and T.H. Nielsen (edd.), An Inventory of Archaic and Classical Poleis (Oxford, 2004), 1233–49, at 1237.

21 Burstein (n. 3), 142.

22 I refer to the transfer of the cult of Artemis Ephesia to Massalia by the Phocaean settlers (Strabo 4.179). Nonetheless, while the cult was transferred via Aristarcha from Ephesus, it was intended to serve the Phocaeans who founded Massalia, and not the people of Ephesus: I. Malkin, Religion and Colonization in Ancient Greece (Leiden, 1987), 69–72; I. Malkin, ‘What is an Aphidruma?’, ClAnt 10 (1991), 77–96. Whether the story is legendary or not, however, is difficult to say: M. Dillon, Girls and Women in Classical Greek Religion (London and New York, 2002), 97.

23 Given the popularity of the cult of Artemis Ephesia in the Ionian colonies on the Black Sea’s north coast, it stands to reason that occasionally the waves of Ionian settlers were also joined by the Ephesians, who might have been particularly influential in spreading the cult of the goddess overseas. However, as D. Braund, Greek Religion and Cults in the Black Sea Region: Goddesses in the Bosporan Kingdom from the Archaic Period to the Byzantine Era (Cambridge and New York, 2018), 117 points out: ‘The case of Massalia offers a model for understanding the presence of Artemis Ephesia in the Bosporan kingdom and elsewhere on the north coast of the Black Sea without indulging in assumptions about colonial adventures by the people of Ephesus. For the inhabitants of western Asia Minor, Artemis of Ephesus was clearly a major supernatural presence, with a stunning cult-centre to match and express her importance.’

24 M. Kerschner, H. Mommsen, C. Rogl and A. Schwedt, ‘Die Keramikproduktion von Ephesos in griechischer Zeit. Zum Stand der archäometrischen Forschungen’, JÖAI 71 (2002), 189–206; J. Bouzek, ‘Ephesier außerhalb von Ephesos. Ephesische Keramik in Mittel- und Schwarzmeergebiet’, in B. Brandt, V. Gassner and S. Ladstätter (edd.), Synergia: Festschrift für Friedrich Krinzinger (Wien, 2007), 55–65; M. Kerschner, ‘East Greek pottery workshops in the seventh century BC: tracing regional styles’, in X. Charalambidou and C. Morgan (edd.), Interpreting the Seventh Century BC: Tradition and Innovation (Oxford, 2017), 100–13.

25 Austin (n. 5), 64, n. 4 rejected the historical validity of fr. 310 concerning Ephesus: ‘There is in any case a joke in calling an island “Ephesus”.’

26 C. Constantakopoulou, ‘Proud to be an islander: island identity in multi-polis islands in the Classical and Hellenistic Aegean’, MHR 20 (2005), 1–34.

27 I. Malkin, ‘Networks and the emergence of Greek identity’, MHR 18 (2003), 56–74, at 59.

28 Malkin (n. 15), 94.

29 Malkin (n. 17), 84–5. According to Herodotus (2.178), Amasis gave the city of Naucratis to the Greeks as a place where any Greeks who came to stay in Egypt could live and/or set up altars and precincts to their gods. The largest and the most famous of these precincts was called the Hellenium, whose foundation was a joint venture undertaken by a number of Greek communities of Ionian and Dorian origin, while the only Aeolian town involved was Mytilene. Likewise, precincts sacred to Zeus, Hera and Apollo were built separately by Aegina, Samos and Miletus respectively: R. Waterfield, Herodotus: The Histories. A New Translation (Oxford, 1998), 166–7.

30 For a view from the second century c.e. see Aelius Aristides, Oration 24.54–6. H.J. Mason, ‘The end of Antissa’, AJPh 116 (1995), 399–410, at 400, in discussing Lesbos’ political dynamics, refers to ‘the proverbial disunity of Lesbos’.

31 Mason (n. 30); H.J. Mason, ‘Mytilene and Methymna: quarrels, borders and topography’, EMC 37 (1993), 225–50. The sharp contrasts between the various populations are apparent not only at the inter-city controversy level, but also intra-city—for example, the famous stasis in Mytilene and in other Lesbian cities; see L. Kurke, ‘Crisis and decorum in sixth-century Lesbos: reading Alkaios otherwise’, QUCC 47 (1994), 67–92; L. De Libero, Die archaische Tyrannis (Stuttgart, 1996), 314–30; M.H. Hansen, N. Spencer and H. Williams, ‘Lesbos’, in M.H. Hansen and T.H. Nielsen (edd.), An Inventory of Archaic and Classical Poleis (Oxford, 2004), 1018–32. Mytilene’s uprising in 428 against Athenian rule was supported by most of the Lesbian city-states. However, this temporary unity was assumedly, at least in part, forced (compare Thuc. 3.3). One of Lesbos’ most important cities, Methymne, even fought against Mytilene alongside the Athenians (Thuc. 3.5, 3.18). Concerning the rebellion of Mytilene, see A. Andrewes, ‘The Mytilene debate: Thucydides 3.36–49’, Phoenix 16 (1962), 64–85; D. Gillis, ‘The revolt at Mytilene’, AJPh 92 (1971), 38–47; R.I. Winton, ‘Thucydides 3.12.3’, CQ 48 (1998), 294–7.

32 Constantakopoulou (n. 26), 16.

33 Mason (nn. 30–1). In contrast to several other multi-poleis islands such as Rhodes and Kos, Lesbos never had a unified calendar. While this evidence is only from the Hellenistic period or later, it is likely that each polis already had its own calendar in the Archaic and Classical periods as well; see Hansen, Spencer and Williams (n. 31), 1019, and, concerning calendar unity in Rhodes and Kos, see K. Pritchett, ‘Months in Dorian calendars’, AJA 50 (1946), 358–60.

34 N. Spencer, ‘Early Lesbos between east and west: a “grey area” of Aegean archaeology’, ABSA 90 (1995), 269–306; N. Spencer, A Gazetteer of Archaeological Sites in Lesbos (Oxford, 1995).

35 Hdt. 1.151.2.

36 Mason (n. 31). The late literary tradition records several Aeolian colonies in the Thracian Chersonese area as being established by joint ventures: Alopeconnesus as a colony of the Aeolians and Sestos and Madytus as founded by the Lesbians (Ps.-Scymn. 698–710; cf. Strabo 7, fr. 55b). Yet this tradition’s credibility is far from solid, and the archaeological investigation of Madytus neither supports nor refutes this claim; and see C.C. Aslan and G. Sazcı, ‘Across the Hellespont: Maydos (Ancient Madytos), Troy and the north-eastern Aegean in the late eighth to early sixth century BC’, ABSA 111 (2016), 121–62.

37 N. Spencer, ‘Exchange and stasis in Archaic Mytilene’, in R. Brock and S. Hodkinson (edd.), Alternatives to Athens. Varieties of Political Organization and Community in Ancient Greece (Oxford, 2000), 68–81.

38 A. Bresson, ‘La dynamique des cités de Lesbos’, Cahiers du Centre George-Radet 3 (1983), 1–11. Mytilene was more dominant in the Archaic period, while in the Classical period it appears that Methymna became no less dominant: H.-G. Buchholz, Methymna: archäologische Beiträge zur Topographie und Geschichte von Nordlesbos (Mainz, 1975); Mason (n. 31).

39 L. Lazzarini, ‘A contribution to the study of the Archaic billon coinage of Lesbos’, Obolos 9 (2010), 83–110; P. van Alfen, ‘Problems in the political economy of Archaic Greek coinage’, Notae Numismaticae – Zapiski. Numizmatyczne 7 (2012), 13–36.

40 F. Bodenstedt, Die Elektronmünzen von Phokaia und Mytilene (Tübingen, 1981); E. Mackil and P. van Alfen, ‘Cooperative coinage’, in P. van Alfen (ed.), Agoranomia: Studies in Money and Exchange Presented to John H. Kroll (New York, 2006), 201–46.

41 L. Moretti, Olympionikai: i vincitori negli antichi agoni Olimpici (Rome, 1957); ‘Supplemento al catalogo degli Olympionikai’, Klio 52 (1970), 295–303; ‘Nuovo supplemento al catalogo degli Olympionikai’, Miscellanea greca e romana 12 (1987), 67–91; P. Christesen, Olympic Victor Lists and Ancient Greek History (Cambridge, 2007).

42 Scamander of Mytilene won a stadion race in 476; Parmenides of Mytilene won a stadion race in 312; Archippos of Mytilene won a boxing competition in 300; and Valerius of Mytilene won a running competition in 45 c.e.

43 Assuming that Chios had more than one polis would place it on this list as well; see N. Merousis, Χίος. Φυσικό περιβάλλον και κατοίκηση από τη νεολιθική εποχή μέχρι το τέλος της αρχαιότητας (Chios, 2002).

44 M.H. Hansen, ‘City-ethnics as evidence for polis identity’, in M.H. Hansen and K. Raaflaub (edd.), More Studies in the Ancient Greek Polis (Stuttgart, 1996), 169–96. Prior to the synoikismos of 408/7, Rhodes’ representatives were victorious in Olympiads in 464, 452, 448, 432 and 428. In two post-synoikismos cases the victors did prefer to emphasize their urban identity over their island identity: Nikagoras of Lindos, who won twice in 308, and Agesistratos of Lindos winning in 172. Despite the existence of several poleis on archaic Rhodes, their involvement in the establishment of the Hellenium at Naucratis is represented under a singular designation, ‘Rhodes’ (Hdt. 2.178). Several scholars interpret it as a symbol of the collective group identity and the cooperation among the inhabitants of Rhodes, even prior to the synoikismos of the island: A. Bresson, La cité marchande (Bordeaux, 2000), 37–40; Constantakopoulou (n. 26), 7. V. Gabrielsen, ‘The synoikized Polis of Rhodes’, in P. Flensted-Jensen, T.H. Nielsen and L. Rubinstein (edd.), Polis and Politics: Studies in Ancient Greek History (Copenhagen, 2000), 177–206 even maintains that Rhodes was de facto united as early as the Archaic period; see, however, H. Bowden, ‘The Greek settlement and sanctuaries at Naukratis: Herodotus and archaeology’, in M.H. Hansen and K. Raaflaub (edd.), More Studies in the Ancient Greek Polis (Stuttgart, 1996), 17–37, at 32 n. 89, who maintains that Herodotus’ term ‘Rhodes’ refers only to the polis of Lindos. Bowden’s idea is unconvincing since Herodotus knew well the difference between pan-Rhodian and Lindian identities; compare Hdt. 2.178 vs 7.153.

45 G. Reger, ‘The Aegean’, in M.H. Hansen and T.H. Nielsen (edd.), An Inventory of Archaic and Classical Poleis (Oxford, 2004), 732–93, at 747–8; Constantakopoulou (n. 26), 20 n. 144; D. Schmidt, ‘An unusual victory list from Keos: IG XII, 5, 608 and the dating of Bakchylides’, JHS 119 (1999), 67–85.

46 S. Sherwin-White, Ancient Cos: An Historical Study from the Dorian Settlement to the Imperial Period (Göttingen, 1978), 40–68; Reger (n. 45), 752–4, §497. Contestants from Kos achieved victories in 420, 400, 264, 260, 256, 92 and 72.

47 E.-M. Voigt, Sappho et Alcaeus: Fragmenta (Amsterdam, 1971), fr. 129. Translation after D. Page, Sappho and Alcaeus: An Introduction to the Study of Ancient Lesbian Poetry (Oxford, 1955), 162; note also A.J. Beattie, ‘A note on Alcaeus fr. 129’, CR 6 (1956), 189–91.

48 For example, Malkin (n. 15), 94; Constantakopoulou (n. 26), 16; both with earlier references.

49 There are several competing proposals concerning the sacred precinct’s precise location on the island. For the identification with Messa, see L. Robert, ‘Recherches épigraphiques’, REA 62 (1960), 276–361, at 303; cf. Spencer (n. 34), 22, site 103. For the identification with Cape Phokas, see J.D. Quinn, ‘Cape Phokas, Lesbos: site of an Archaic sanctuary for Zeus, Hera, and Dionysos?’, AJA 65 (1961), 391–3. For its placement in the vicinity of Thermi in Lesbos, see H.J. Mason, ‘The divinity of Lazpa (Lesbos)’, Paper read at the 137th Annual Meeting of the American Philological Association, Montreal, January 5–8, 2006; cf. Spencer (n. 34), 6, sites 8 and 11.

50 Page (n. 47), 168; Quinn (n. 49).

51 Sappho fr. 17 in C. Neri, Saffo, Testimonianze e frammenti (Berlin and Boston, 2021); see Page (n. 47), 58–62. Sappho’s poem, made in a cultic context, presents a different order of appearance from Alcaeus. Alcaeus turns to Zeus, the illustrious goddess of the Aeolians, and then to Dionysus. Sappho changes the order with the Atreidae turning to Hera, Zeus and Dionysus.

52 Page (n. 47); and see G. Nagy, ‘Alcaeus in sacred space’, in R. Pretagostini (ed.), Tradizione e innovazione nella cultura greca da Omero all’età ellenistica: scritti in onore di Bruno Gentili (Rome, 1993), 1.221–5.

53 Hansen, Spencer and Williams (n. 31), 1019.

54 Plut. Quaest. Rom. 112.

55 W.K.C. Guthrie, The Greeks and their Gods (London, 1950), 154; C. Isler-Kerényi, Dionysos in Archaic Greece: An Understanding through Images (Leiden, 2007); also Apollod. Bibl. 3.5.1.

56 Page (n. 47), 169.

57 For example, R.J. Buck, ‘The Aeolic dialect in Boeotia’, CPh 63 (1968), 268–80; J.M. Hall, Ethnic Identity in Greek Antiquity (Cambridge, 1997), 156.

58 F. Gschnitzer and E. Schwertheim, ‘Aioleis’, DNP 1 (1996), 336–41; J.M. Hall, Hellenicity: Between Ethnicity and Culture (Chicago and London), 72.

59 For the former see C.B. Rose, ‘Separating fact from fiction in the Aiolian migration’, Hesperia 77 (2008), 399–430; for the latter see H.N. Parker, ‘The linguistic case for the Aiolian migration reconsidered’, Hesperia 77 (2008), 431–64.

60 M. Finkelberg, ‘Lesbian and mainland Greece’, in G.K. Giannakis, E. Crespo and P. Filos (edd.), Studies in Ancient Greek Dialects: From Central Greece to the Black Sea (Berlin and Boston, 2018), 447–56.

61 H.J. Mason, ‘Looking for the Aeolian migration’, Paper read at the 135th Annual Meeting of the American Philological Association, San Francisco, CA, January 2–5, 2004; M. Demir, ‘On the possible previous links of the Dark Age Aiolian colonists with their newly colonised territories’, Olba 9 (2004), 57–93.

62 P.H.J. Houwink ten Cate, ‘Sidelight on the Ahhiyawa question from Hittite vassal and royal correspondence’, Jaarbericht ex Oriente Lux 28 (1983–84), 33–79, at 44; T. Bryce, The Kingdom of the Hittites: New Edition (Oxford, 2005), 225, 360.

63 H.J. Mason, ‘Hittite Lesbos?’, in B.J. Collins, M.R. Bachvarova and I.C. Rutherford (edd.), Anatolian Interfaces: Hittites, Greeks and their Neighbors (Oxford, 2008), 57–62; I. Singer, ‘Purple-dyers in Lazpa’, in B.J. Collins, M.R. Bachvarova and I.C. Rutherford (edd.), Anatolian Interfaces: Hittites, Greeks and their Neighbors (Oxford, 2008), 21–43; A. Archi, ‘Aštata: a case of Hittite imperial religious policy’, Journal of Ancient Near Eastern Religions 14 (2014), 141–63. For the so-called Ahhiyawa texts (AhT 6; AhT 7 and AhT 20) that indicate various interactions between the Hittite empire and the island of Lesbos, see G. Beckman, T. Bryce and E.H. Cline, The Ahhiyawa Texts (Atlanta, 2012), 134–44; 183–209.

64 The famous oracle report KUB 5, 6 ++, dating to the reign of Muršili II or Ḫattušili III, mentions the deities of Aḫḫiyawa and Lazpa (Lesbos), that were brought to Ḫattuša in an endeavour to effect the king’s recovery; see Beckman, Bryce and Cline (n. 63), 193–4; Singer (n. 63); A. Gilan, ‘A bridge or a blind alley? Hittites and Neo Hittites as cultural mediators’, in R. Faber and A. Lichtenberger (edd.), Ein pluriverses Universum: Zivilisationen und Religionen im antiken Mittelmeerraum (Paderborn, 2015), 167–89. Might this indicate that the Lesbos sacred precinct functioned already during this period? Clearly, there is no definitive answer to this question. Nonetheless, there is a certain similarity between the declaration of loyalty rituals, the oaths described in Alcaeus and similar oaths in the Hittite world: M. Bachvarova, ‘Oath and allusion in Alcaeus fr. 129’, in A.H. Sommerstein and J. Fletcher (edd.), Horkos: The Oath in Greek Society (Exeter, 2007), 179–88.

65 If Alcaeus’ Aeolian goddess was identified in his day with Hera, rather than with Cybele, we possibly have evidence here for an Anatolian cult of the Great Mother Cybele, that underwent a process of assimilation and finally came to be identified with the cult of Hera; see G. Sfameni Gasparro, Soteriology and Mystic Aspects in the Cult of Cybele and Attis (Leiden, 1985), 9–19. In many attested cases, in East Greece both Hera’s and Artemis’ cults originate in the cult of Cybele: M. Munn, The Mother of the Gods, Athens, and the Tyranny of Asia. A Study of Sovereignty in Ancient Religion (Berkeley, 2006). In any case, since Sappho attributes the existence of the triple cult to the days of the Trojan War, a distant past from her point of view, it is reasonable to infer that this is an ancient cult, established well before the seventh century. Thus, while according to Alcaeus the Lesbians founded the sacred precinct ‘for all to share’, this probably refers to renovating an existing precinct; or to an important cultic permutation, perhaps accompanied by establishing a new altar following Zeus’s addition to the joint cult.

66 Some maintain that the swearing allegiance ceremonies between Alcaeus and Pittacus, the tyrant of Mytilene, later broken by Pittacus, were held in the sacred precinct described in Alcaeus’ poem: e.g. C.M. Bowra, Greek Lyric Poetry from Alcman to Simonides (Oxford, 1961), 143. C.A. Faraone, ‘Molten wax, spilt wine and mutilated animals: sympathetic magic in Near Eastern and early Greek oath ceremonies’, JHS 113 (1993), 60–80, at 70–1 suggests that this pan-Lesbian precinct’s deities were particularly frightening, recalling the Olympic athletes’ oaths to Zeus Horkios’ statue at Olympia. Nonetheless, it is also likely that the presumably threatening names of Zeus and Dionysus in this particular Lesbian sanctuary were intended to remind all the island rulers that those seeking temporary refuge were under divine protection that must not be challenged.

67 For a summary of the urban structures of Chios and Samos, see L. Rubinstein, ‘Ionia’, in M.H. Hansen and T.H. Nielsen (edd.), An Inventory of Archaic and Classical Poleis (Oxford, 2004), 1053–107, at 1064–9, 1094–8, §§840, 864.

68 The representatives of Chios won two competitions, and those from Samos won seven competitions as Samians.

69 The island’s name in the fourteenth century, according to the el-Amarna archives, is Alashiya: see Y. Goren, S. Bunimovitz, I. Finkelstein and N. Na’aman, ‘The location of Alashiya: new evidence from petrographic investigation of Alashiyan tablets from El-Amarna and Ugarit’, AJA 107 (2003), 233–55. The Phoenician-speaking inhabitants of Cyprus and presumably of the Levant coastal strip still called the island by the traditional name Alashiya even in the fourth century; see M.G. Amadasi Guzzo and J.A. Zamora, ‘The Phoenician name of Cyprus: new evidence from early Hellenistic times’, Journal of Semitic Studies 63 (2018), 77–97.

70 See, for instance, D. Rupp, ‘Vive le roi: the emergence of the state in Iron Age Cyprus’, in D. Rupp (ed.), Western Cyprus: Connections (Göteborg, 1987), 147–68; A.T. Reyes, Archaic Cyprus: A Study of the Textual and Archaeological Evidence (Oxford, 1994); M. Iacovou, ‘Cultural and political configurations in Iron Age Cyprus: the sequel to a protohistoric episode’, AJA 112 (2008), 625–57.

71 While in Assyrian documents Cyprus is referred to as Ia-ad-na-na (see Reyes [n. 70], 50–6; A. Cannavò, ‘The role of Cyprus in the Neo-Assyrian economic system: analysis of the textual evidence’, Rivista di Studi Fenici 35 [2007], 179–90), clearly the Assyrians never regarded this island as a unified political entity, but as the location of several small kingdoms: N. Demand, ‘Poleis on Cyprus and oriental despotism’, in M.H. Hansen and K. Raaflaub (edd.), More Studies in the Ancient Greek Polis (Stuttgart, 1996), 7–15; M. Iacovou, ‘From ten to naught: formation, consolidation and abolition of Cyprus’ Iron Age polities’, Cahier du Centre d’Études Chypriotes 32 (2002), 73–87.

72 A. Möller, Naukratis: Trade in Archaic Greece (Oxford, 2000), 161–3.

73 Analysing the Cypriot finds from this site Villing suggests that ‘there is very little evidence for Cypriots at Naukratis’, see A. Villing, ‘“Drab bowls” for Apollo: the mortaria of Naukratis and exchange in the Archaic eastern Mediterranean’, in A. Villing and U. Schlotzhauer (edd.), Naukratis: Greek Diversity in Egypt (London, 2006), 31–46, at 39–40. For extensive summaries concerning Cypriot statuettes at Naucratis, see F. De Salvia, ‘The Cypriots in the Saite Nile delta: the Cypro-Egyptian religious syncretism’, in A. Nibbi (ed.), The Archaeology, Geography and History of the Egyptian Delta in Pharaonic Times (Oxford, 1989), 81–118; U. Höckmann, ‘Rezeption und Umbildung einiger ägyptischer Motive an den zyprisch-griechischen Kouros-statuetten aus Naukratis: eine Fallstudie zu Kulturkontakten’, in W. Bisang (ed.), Kultur, Sprache, Kontakt (Würzburg, 2004), 231–43. This admittedly poor evidence is supplied nevertheless by the information in Herodotus (2.182), whereby Amasis ‘was the first conqueror of Cyprus, which he made tributary to himself’, though it was the Assyrians who first collected tax on the island (see n. 71). For Egyptian influence on Cypriote limestone sculpture during this period, see A. Hermary and J.R. Mertens, The Cesnola Collection of Cypriot Art: Stone Sculpture (New Haven and London, 2014); R. Senff, ‘The early stone sculpture of Cyprus in the Archaic age. Questions of meaning and external relations’, Cahiers du Centre d’Études Chypriotes 46 (2016), 235–52. On the other hand, there is evidence for the employment of Cypriot mercenaries in the Saite army; see P. Kaplan, ‘Cross-cultural contacts among mercenary communities in Saite and Persian Egypt’, MHR 18 (2003), 1–31, at 10, nos. 48–9; A. Cannavò, ‘Mercenaries. Cypriots abroad and foreigners in Cyprus before the Hellenistic period’, in G. Bourogiannis (ed.), Beyond Cyprus: Investigating Cypriot Connectivity in the Mediterranean from the Late Bronze Age to the End of the Classical Period (Athens, 2022), 473–83. As Cannavò demonstrates, however, even the graffiti left by Cypriot mercenaries serving in Egypt during the Persian period always emphasize their local polis or village identity, and not a collective one.

74 Braun (n. 5), 47; Malkin (n. 15), 94; Malkin (n. 17), 84. In discussing the fragments of Hecataeus dealing with North Africa, Braun (n. 7), 332 expresses reservations regarding his original reconstruction concerning fr. 310: ‘A foreign island named after a Greek one did not need to resemble it, or, for all we know, have Greek inhabitants. Hecataeus listed Nile islands which the Greek settlers in Egypt called Ephesus, Chios, Lesbos, Cyprus and Samos.’ Regarding Hecataeus’ description of the North African coast, we have an interesting fragment of Pseudo-Scylax, apparently composed in the fourth century. See P. Counillon, Pseudo-Skylax: le Périple du Pont-Euxin. Texte, traduction, commentaire philologique et historique (Bordeaux, 2004), 24–7: ‘From Ityke to Hippou Akra: [a voyage of days, one]. Hippou [Akra], a city, and after it there is a lake, and islands in the lake, and around the lake the following cities in the islands: Psegas, a city, and right by it many Naxian islands: Pithekousai with a harbour; opposite it Kalathe island, and a city in the island, Euboia’, translation after G. Shipley, Pseudo-Skylax’s Periplous: The Circumnavigation of the Inhabited World. Text, Translation and Commentary (Liverpool, 20192), 87. Let us first posit that this fragment of Pseudo-Scylax is based upon Hecataeus (Jacoby [n. 6], 2733–34, as well as Hdt. 4.177). If so, then in contrast to the Greek names for the Nile Delta group of islands, it becomes probable that such names employed for an island group near the Tunisian coast, west of Carthage, do indeed indicate the establishment of Greek settlements in this area during the Archaic period: H. Treidler, ‘Eine alte ionische Kolonisation im numidischen Afrika’, Historia 8 (1959), 257–83; E. Lipiński, Studia Phoenicia XVIII: Itineraria Phoenicia (Leuven, 2004), 386–9; J. Boardman, ‘Early Euboean settlements in the Carthage area’, OJA 25 (2006), 195–200. According to Braun (n. 7), 332–3 the Euboean settlement Pithekousai on the Tunisian coast, for example, possibly preceded the more famous one established on the island of Ischia; see, however, Austin (n. 20), 1237, who tends to reject the historicity of the data offered by Pseudo-Scylax. This does not lend support, however, to the idea that the Greek names of the group of islands in the Nile Delta indicate that they were trading emporia when Naucratis was founded or before. There is a significant difference between the Greeks’ ability to trade, and to settle near the Tunisian coast, as opposed to their limited abilities in Egypt.

75 Hdt 2.179. Translation after Waterfield (n. 29), 167.

76 A. Fantalkin, ‘Greek trade with Egypt and the Levant during the Archaic period’, Paper read at the Conference ‘Heracleion in Context: The Maritime Economy of the Egyptian Late Period’, The Queen’s College, University of Oxford, March 15–17, 2013; A. Fantalkin, ‘Naukratis as a contact zone: revealing the Lydian connection’, in R. Rollinger and K. Schnegg (edd.), Kulturkontakte in antiken Welten: vom Denkmodell zum Fallbeispiel (Leuven, 2014), 27–51, at 38–45.

77 D. Robinson and F. Goddio, ‘A port at the edge of the sea of the Greeks: Hellenism in Thonis-Heracleion, Egypt’, Revue archéologique 68 (2019), 435–50.

78 S. Weber, ‘Untersuchungen zur archaischen griechischen Keramik aus anderen ägyptischen Fundorten’, in U. Schlotzhauer and S. Weber, Griechische Keramik des. 7. und Jahrhunderts v. Chr. aus Naukratis und anderen Orten in Ägypten. Archaologische Studien zu Naukratis III (Worms, 2012), 196–289.

79 A. Fantalkin, ‘Contacts between the Greek World and the Southern Levant during the Seventh–Sixth Centuries b.c.e.’ (Diss., Tel Aviv University, 2008) (in Hebrew with English abstract), 305. Malkin considered this suggestion but still prefers his original idea of viewing the island names as signifiers of collective Greek identities and emporia, prior to the charter of Naucratis by Amasis. This with a caveat, that perhaps they also functioned as service stations for ships hosting mercenaries: Malkin (n. 17), 84.

80 N. Marriner, C. Flaux, D. Kaniewski and C. Morhange, ‘Nile Delta’s sinking past: quantifiable links with Holocene compaction and climate-driven changes in sediment supply?’, Geology 40 (2012), 987–90; C. Flaux, N. Marriner, M. el-Assal, D. Kaniewski and C. Morhange, ‘Late Holocene erosion of the Canopic promontory (Nile Delta, Egypt)’, Marine Geology 385 (2017), 56–67.

81 J.-D. Stanley and T.F. Jorstad, ‘Buried Canopic channel identified near Egypt’s Nile Delta coast with Radar (SRTM) imagery’, Geoarchaeology 21 (2006), 503–14.

82 J.P. Cooper, ‘“Fear God; fear the Bogaze”: the Nile mouths and the navigational landscape of the medieval Nile delta, Egypt’, Al-Masāq 24 (2012), 53–73.

83 J.P. Cooper, The Medieval Nile: Route, Navigation and Landscape in Islamic Egypt (Cairo, 2014).

84 P. Wilson, ‘Waterways, settlements and shifting power in the north-western Nile Delta’, Water History 4 (2012), 95–117.

85 A. Graham, ‘Islands in the Nile: a geoarchaeological approach to settlement location in the Egyptian Nile Valley and the case of Karnak’, in M. Bietak, E. Czerny and I. Forstner-Müller (edd.), Cities and Urbanism in Ancient Egypt (Vienna, 2010), 125–44; J. Bunbury, The Nile and Ancient Egypt. Changing Land- and Waterscapes, from the Neolithic to the Roman Era (Cambridge, 2019).

86 W.M. Amer, ‘Biodiversity of the protected river Nile islands (RNIs): the framework and problems encountered’, Cairo University Journal for Environmental Sciences 7 (2009), 43–65.

87 Bunbury (n. 85), 78.

88 Austin (n. 5); Braun (n. 5); Fantalkin (n. 76).

89 For location of the harbour of Ephesus during the Archaic period see J.C. Kraft, H. Bückner, I. Kayan and H. Engelmann, ‘The geographies of ancient Ephesus and the Artemision in Anatolia’, Geoarchaeology 22 (2007), 121–49.

90 L. Eckstein and A. Schwarz, ‘The making of Tupaia’s map: a story of the extent and mastery of Polynesian navigation, competing systems of wayfinding on James Cook’s Endeavour, and the invention of an ingenious cartographic system’, Journal of Pacific History 54 (2019), 1–95.

91 I am not concerned here with the historicity and date of Hanno’s Periplous, an issue far from being settled. Although, if one accepts Lipiński’s view that the Punic original of the report must date to the sixth or fifth century, that would strengthen the comparison even further: Lipiński (n. 74), 435–75, and also J. Burgess, ‘The Periplus of Hanno: dubious historical document, fascinating travel text’, in K. Lennartz and J. Martínez (edd.), Tenue est mendacium: Rethinking Fakes and Authorship in Classical, Late Antique and Early Christian Works (Eelde, 2021), 29–42. The relevant evidence here is that this source attests to the principle of estimating sailing distance times in comparison with already known ones.

92 ‘We found a small island there in the recess of a certain bay, which was five stadia around. We settled there and named it Kerne. We estimated from our periplous that it lay on a line with Karchedon, for the cruise seemed to be the same from Karchedon to the Pillars as from there to Kerne.’ Translation after D.W. Roller, Three Ancient Geographical Treaties in Translation. Hanno, the King Nikomedes Periodos, and Avienus (London and New York, 2022), 19.

93 M.A. Miczak, Henna’s Secret History: The History, Mystery and Folklore of Henna (San Jose and New York, 2001); S. Rehmat, R.A. Khera, M.A. Hanif, M.A. Ayub and A.I. Hussain, ‘Henna’, in M.A. Hanif, H. Nawaz, M.M. Khan and H.J. Byrne (edd.), Medicinal Plants of South Asia (Amsterdam, 2020), 355–68.

94 Thus Pliny the Elder specifies (HN 12.51): ‘A tree found in Egypt is the cypros, which has the leaves of the jujube-tree and the white, scented seed of the coriander. Cypros-seed is boiled in olive oil and afterwards crushed, producing the cypros of commerce, which sells at 5 denarii a pound. The best is made from the tree grown at Canopus on the banks of the Nile, the second best at Ascalon in Judaea, and the third quality on the island of Cyprus, which has a sort of sweet scent.’ Translation after H. Rackham, Pliny: Natural History. Volume IV (Cambridge, MA, 1945), 79.

95 On the names, titles and epithets of Aphrodite, see D. Dickmann Boedeker, Aphrodite’s Entry into Greek Epic (Leiden, 1974), 18–42; also V. Pirenne-Delforge, L’Aphrodite grecque (Athens and Liège, 1994).

96 Il. 5.330, 422, 458, 760, 883; Sapph. frr. 2.13, 5.18, 15.9, etc.; L. Massetti, ‘Two lovely names: on Κύπρις and Ἶρις’, MSS 70 (2016), 41–59, at 42–6.

97 P. Herrmann, ‘Milet 1992–1993: Inschriften’, AA 1995, 282–92.

98 R. Senff, ‘Das Aphroditeheiligtum von Milet’, in G. Heedemann and E. Winter (edd.), Neue Forschungen zur Religionsgeschichte Kleinasiens (Bonn, 2003), 11–25; A.M. Greaves, ‘The cult of Aphrodite in Miletos and its colonies’, AS 54 (2004), 27–33.

99 K. Eren, ‘The topography of religion in Archaic Ionia’, Cedrus 4 (2016), 11–29. For the so-called ‘ship to shore maritime perspective’ and the importance of suitable orientation landmarks, see Malkin (n. 17), 48–50, with further references. Another collection of three Aphrodite sanctuaries usable as a landmark for passing ships, starting from the Archaic period, was located on the Cnidus peninsula’s rocky hill: A. Corso, ‘The cult and political background of the Knidian Aphrodite’, in E. Hallager and J.T. Jensen (edd.), Proceedings of the Danish Institute at Athens V (Athens, 2006), 173–97.

100 M. Wilson, ‘The Lukan periplus of Paul’s third journey with a textual conundrum in Acts 20:15’, Acta Theologica 36 (2016), 229–54.

101 Acts 20:13–16; M.D. Coogan (ed.), The New Oxford Annotated Bible. New Revised Standard Version with the Apocrypha (Oxford, 2010), 1958.

102 I am grateful to one of CQ’s readers for this observation; compare I. Andolfi, ‘Hecataeus Milesius: a textual approach to selected fragments of the Genealogies’, in T. Derda, J. Hilder and J. Kwapisz (edd.), Fragments, Holes, and Wholes: Reconstructing the Ancient World in Theory and Practice (Warsaw, 2017), 91–108.