Animals in War

After a long time focussing on a new job, a new country, and developing other parts of the website, it is finally time for another blog entry. I do so with the serious but important topic of war. It is difficult to put words on the tragedies of war – the loss of lives, the displacement, the violence and the many years of trauma that follow. With over 10 years of war and unrest in Syria, and now a new war in Ukraine, this seems a good time to pick up on this topic and look at the role of and impact on animals. The devastation to human lives and the countries where war takes place can hardly be overstated. Death, abandonment, injury, displacement, loss of home, family and friends are some of the things faced by victims of war, both human and animal. What follows is a small window into how war affected human as well as nonhuman animals in ancient Mesopotamia. 

Animals fighting and dying alongside humans in war

The most striking way that animals occur in war is as part of battle. Some of the earliest evidence of this in Mesopotamia comes from the visual material – plaques, inlays, seals, sealings and the famous Standard of Ur. The Standard of Ur, found in a wealthy tomb in the so-called Royal Cemetery at Ur is dated to the Early Dynastic III period (mid-third millennium BCE). It has two large panels of decoration, the ‘Peace’ side and the ‘War’ side. On the ‘War’ side, we can see wheeled vehicles (sometimes called battle wagons) pulled by a team of four equids – probably either donkeys or the hybrid equids known as kungas. On the lowest register, they are right in the midst of battle, trampling enemies and with soldiers and drivers in the wagon itself.

The Standard of Ur, British Museum 121201

Another early example of donkeys fighting as part of chariot-teams comes from the so-called ‘Stele of Vultures’. The stele relates to a border dispute between the two city-states of Lagash and Umma in the third millennium BCE, and it records this dispute in both image and inscription. Both sides of the stele are carved, but unfortunately only preserved in fragments. One side shows the god Ningirsu having captured his enemies in a net and, in a register below, probably the same god in his divine vehicle (the part with the animals pulling it has not survived). The other side depicts the king of Lagash, Eannatum, heading a tightly packed infantry unit on foot in the top register; in the second register, he leads another infantry unit from a wheeled vehicle (the part with the animals again not surviving). In a third register, he presides over some of the events of the aftermath of battle, including animal sacrifices, libations and the building of a tumulus for the dead soldiers. The associated inscription mentions how the Lagashite king had burial mounds made for his fallen soldiers and abandoning 60 teams of the enemy’s donkeys and the bones of their personnel. At this point in time, the equids were typically in teams of four, as also on the Standard of Ur. In other words, a total of 240 donkeys of the enemy died in the battle (customarily, the losses of the victor are not recorded). 

The Stele of Vultures, Louvre

Equids continue to fight in human wars throughout the second and first millennia. In the second millennium BCE, there are big changes in chariot warfare: the ’true’ chariot appears. This is a much faster and lighter vehicle, with only two wheels that are spoked rather than the earlier disk version. It is usually pulled by a team of two horses instead of the four-team donkey/kunga. In the Late Bronze Age, this combination became widespread and is found not only in Mesopotamia but also Egypt and the entire Eastern Mediterranean. It was an important part of any army, and the Amarna Letters suggest that cities had difficulties defending themselves without a chariotry component.

In the first half of the first millennium, we also see horses and chariots being a part of the Assyrian army – as well as in the armies of their opponents. They are most evocatively depicted on the palace reliefs of Neo-Assyrian kings, but also in earlier Hittite images such as for example the early first millennium orthostats found at Carchemish. Although chariots appear to continue to dominate, the Neo-Assyrian reliefs also increasingly depict horses used as cavalry. Donkeys and other equids were no longer used for direct battle, but were present in other ways, as we will see below, and could be used in emergencies to escape or retreat from the fighting. 

However, another animal occurs at this time as ridden and fighting: the camel. The Neo-Assyrians did not themselves have war camels, but some of their enemies did. We thus have heartbreaking images of Arabs and their camels clashing with Assyrians and succumbing to the attack.

Palace relief from the North Palace at Nineveh, depicting Assyrians and Arabs in battle, 7th century BCE, British Museum 124926

The final animal that participated in battle that I would mention here is perhaps more surprising: the dog. Their participation is only known from the second half of the third millennium BCE (read also more here). We do not know their exact role during combat, but they are depicted alongside equids and wheeled vehicles, and recorded in the written records as belonging to army generals. This is just one testament to one of the most enduring close human-nonhuman animal relations. With the dog most likely being the earliest domesticated animal, and the many varieties of the relationship over time – including modern canine units and dogs trained to detect explosives, drugs, money and human diseases, among many others things – this early collaboration is perhaps not as unusual as at first sight.

Animals carrying and providing provisions for the army

A less obvious aspect of animals in war is as carrying provisions for the army on the move. The impact of beasts of burden and traction as facilitators of war would have been immense, and can be illustrated with examples at least as recent as WW I and WW II, where horses, mules and donkeys, along with other animals such as dogs and messenger pigeons participated in large numbers. Many died: almost half a million horses are recorded as lost during WW I. Although other animals could be used to carry provisions (for example, cattle and human porters), donkeys were most commonly used for this purpose in ancient Mesopotamia. It is of significance mostly for an army on the offensive – that is, an army moving in order to attack, and therefore needing to bring provisions with it. Especially the large contingents of the Neo-Assyrians moved over very long distances, and sometimes besieged far away cities for months or even years on end. These would have required substantial amounts of food and water, along with other goods – for both humans and other animals.

This much less dramatic aspect is not usually the subject of the visual evidence. It can occasionally be found indirectly in the written sources, although even then usually only when there are problems, as a letter found in the city of Mari shows:

When we departed (to get) here, Ishme-Dagan, together with his troops, started out in the middle of the night for Ekallatum. And the grain that Ishme-Dagan transported on his donkeys from the namashshum fo Ashkur-Addu did not arrive in Razama. And his donkeys returned without their load to Ekallatum. They (say), ‘Ishme-Dagan is hungry. There is no grain whatsoever in the land.’

Hempel 2003, 402-403

Animals as mediators

Beside carrying the provisions, the animals themselves also were provisions. While the diet of the soldiers on the move almost certainly consisted primarily of grain-based food, it may occasionally have included meat. Certainly, significant amounts of sheep were also part of the army, as they were crucial for divination. Divination of sheep livers and entrails (extispicy/hepatoscopy) was an integral part of the army practices from at least the Old Babylonian period onwards. It involves the sacrifice of a sheep and subsequent inspection of its liver. This procedure was used to make enquiries about the next strategic step, and diviners were part of the army personnel. Surviving records explain how to interpret specific features found on the liver – for example a discolouration, lump or unusual shape:

If an enemy plans an attack against a city and its plan is revealed, it will look like this. 

If the enemy musters which hostile intent but the prince’s [army(?)], however considerable it may be, is not powerful enough, (it will look like this). 

Ulanowski 2020, 45

The practice is depicted in palace reliefs and other art. The exact number of sheep killed in this manner is impossible to establish, but given the prevalence of the practice, it must have been quite substantial and added up to many animals in total. To see that animal sacrifices occurred as part of the rituals of war at least as early as the third millennium BCE, we can return to the Stele of the Vultures. In the register where the Lagashian king presides over post-battle rituals, a priest making a libation stands on a pile of headless animals, presumably sacrificed for the occasion.

Palace relief from Nimrud, Northwest Palace, depicting army camp with divination of sheep (lower lefthand corner), 9th century BCE. British Museum 124548.

The aftermath of war

In the aftermath of war, beyond those fallen on the battlefield, animals were present in two ways: as scavengers and as part of the loot. Starting with the former, the Stele of the Vultures again provides a good early example. In the top register with the king on foot in front of an infantry contingent, another fragment of the stele shows vultures carrying human heads and other body parts, picked up from the battlefield (hence also the name of the stele). Similar images occur in other depictions; on a stele of Sargon found in Susa, dogs also participate in this scavenging activity. Such motifs are part of the ideology or we might even say propaganda of victorious rulers, and we can also here detect a repetition of this theme in the Neo-Assyrian repertoire. 

Palace relief from Nimrud, Southwest Palace, depicting a vulture carrying entrails from the battlefield, 8th century BCE. British Museum 118907.

Many animals, especially medium to large-sized mammals, were also important resources. The breeding, rearing, herding and training of various animals would have been an enormous and very expensive affair. For example, the horses used in war would require years of breeding, rearing and training by specialists, which would have required extensive management and administration. Wars were fought for a variety of reasons, but access to resources would have been one of the key ones, even if official narratives offer a different version. Even the Standard of Ur, with its lines of sheep, goats and equids (and some fish!), indicates the significance of (animal) resources. Animal loot was carefully recorded by the Neo-Assyrians along with people and goods. Just as mass deportations of humans was a common practice, so was that of the captured animals – they were displaced and moved long distances, often to the Assyrian heartland and capital. 

These are just some of the ways that animals were part of and caught up in human conflict in ancient Mesopotamia. It is far from an exhaustive account. For example, it is harder to reconstruct the impact on smaller and wild animals. One might here consider the heartbreaking devastation to animals caused recently by the wildfires in Australia – not a case of a human war, but a possible indication of the more ‘invisible’ damage of laying waste and setting fire to cities and animals such as dogs, foxes, rodents getting caught in it. Companion animals may equally lose their home, source of food and co-habitants. Stories of modern war naturally focus on the devastation to humans, but in recent reports on Ukranians forced to leave behind their animal companions, we get a glimpse of yet another aspect of the cruelty of human wars.

References and further reading:

^{Bahrani, Z. Rituals of War: The Body and Violence in Mesopotamia. (Zone Books, 2008).}

^{Heimpel, W. Letters to the King of Mari: A New Translation, with Historical Introduction, Notes, and Commentary. (Eisenbrauns, 2003).}

^{Lau, D. Tiere im Krieg: Der mesopotamische Raum. Tiere und Krieg, 21–33 (Neofelis, 2017).}

^{Tsouparopoulou, C. The “K-9 Corps” of the Third Dynasty of Ur: The dog handlers at Drehem and the army. Zeitschrift für Assyriologie und Vorderasiatische Archäologie 102, 1–16 (2012).}

^{Ulanowski, K. Neo-Assyrian and Greek Divination in War: Ancient Warfare Series Volume 3. (Brill, 2020).}

Homer’s Horses – Part II

I’m going to start 2019 with a continuation of how I ended 2018: The Homeric epic. Having seen how horses were described and used with chariots in The Iliad, I now want move to the perspective of the horses themselves and their living conditions.

The agency of horses

Homer’s horses are not simply passive tools used by humans in their violent conflict. They are instead perceived as social actors who are both brave and cowardly, and who have invested interests in the well-being of their owner and driver -not to mention, a great desire to win. They are fearsome yet make mistakes or refuse to perform certain tasks.

For example, horses are described as being afraid,

… not even
[Hector’s] swift-footed horses would attempt it for him, but stood
whinnying loudly at its very edge: the wide ditch
terrified them

Book 12, l. 50-52

As we saw in Part I, horses form strong bonds with their human owners and trainers, and when losing them, they may feel corresponding levels of grief. This happens when Patroclus dies and the horses of Achilles are devastated:

But the horses of Aeacus’ grandson, far from battle,
had been weeping ever since they heard that their charioteer
had fallen in the dust at the hands of man-slaughtering Hector.
Automedon, the stalwart son of Diores, kept lashing them
with repeated blows of the swift whip, and many times
he spoke to them with soft words, and many times with threats;
but they had no wish either to go back to the ships by the broad
Hellespont, or to join the Achaeans in the fighting,
but as a grave-pillar that stands over the burial-mound
of a dead man or woman stays in place, firmly fixed,
so they stayed motionless, harnessed to the beautiful chariot,
their heads drooping to the earth; and hot tears
flowed from their eyes to the ground, as they mourned
in longing for their charioteer; and their thick manes were soiled,
hanging from the yoke-pad along both sides of the yoke

Book 17, l. 425-440

Horses are also attributed with ‘personhood’ and individuality. This is perhaps best expressed in the explicit naming of horses. Here we can stay with the horses of Achilles

So Automedon led the swift horses under the yoke for him –
Xanthus and Balius, a pair who flew with the winds’ blast,
whom Podarge the storm-mare had borne to the West Wind
as she grazed in a meadow beside the waters of Ocean.
In the trace-reins he harnessed the blameless Pedasus,
the horse that Achilles carried off when he took Eëtion’s city;
though it is mortal, it could keep up with immortal horses.

Book 16, l. 148-154

Xanthus and Balius are immortal horses, the offspring of divine beings. They are of course fitting for Achilles, who himself has a divine mother. But obviously a horse does not have to be immortal to be famous, as Pedasus proves. In the above quotation, Automedon speaks to the horses. This happens a number of times, and Xanthus even replies:

Then from under the yoke the glancing-footed horse Xanthus
spoke to him; it had bent its head down, and all its mane
was drooping to the ground from the yoke-pad beside the yoke,
and the goddess Hera of the white arms had given it speech:
‘We shall surely bring you back safe this time, huge Achilles;
but the day of your death is near at hand, and it is not we who
will be its cause, but a great god and your powerful destiny.
It was not through our sloth or carelessness that the Trojans
stripped the armour from the shoulders of Patroclus

Book 19, l. 404-412

Hector also speaks to his horses – rather confusingly, one of them is Xanthus’ namesake (the name probably refers to the light colour of the coat, but is also used for humans). Interestingly, we hear that were at least partly in the care of Andromache, Hector’s wife. Not only does she serve them wine (!), she also prioritises them above Hector, at least in this particular instance:

So he spoke, and summoned his horses, and said to them:
‘Xanthus and you, Podargus, Aethon and bright Lampus,
now is the time when you must repay me for the lavish care
that Andromache, daughter of great-hearted Eëtion,
gave you, serving you mind-cheering wheat, and mixing it
with wine, to drink when the spirit urged you, before she
served me, I who am proud to be her tender husband.
So come, press on as fast as you can …

Book 8, l. 184-191

It is important to note here that these are human impressions. I am not here making any claims about how horses experience their world. This is about how Homer – and by extension the ancient Greeks – perceived horses as having agency. That is, as experiencing feelings, having desires and intentions, and acting upon them, with greater or lesser success. It is an entangled (if unequal) relationship where both parties actively influence the world of the other.

 

Mares and stallions

It’s often assumed that only stallions are suitable for warfare and that they are the most prestigious. The Iliad features both mares and stallions, as we have already seen in several instances. There is no indication that stallions are preferable to mares. When lineages are recounted, both dame and sire are mentioned. Mares and stallions take part in the battle,

Meanwhile Neleus’ mares, sweating, were carrying Nestor
out of the battle, and with him Machaon, shepherd of the people.

Book 11, l. 597-599

… and we saw how both mares and stallions are named and can be fast enough for chariot racing:

soon the swift
mares of Pheres’ grandson Eumelus broke into the lead, and
keeping pace with them came the stallions of Diomedes,
the horses of Tros.

Book 23, l. 375-378

Donkeys and mules

Horses are not the only equids in The Iliad. But Homer’s donkeys and mules do not get to go to war or compete in races. They get to haul heavy loads of wagons and plough the soil. They get to carry the dead back from the battlefield at the end of the day.

A donkey makes a rare appearance in a rather unflattering simile as being stubborn and gluttonous:

As when a stubborn donkey, passing a cornfield, defies the boys,
driving it, and though many sticks have been broken on its sides
it goes into the field and causes havoc in its deep crop, and
the boys beat it with sticks, but their strength is weak, and they
drive it out with difficulty, only when it has had its fill of food

Book 11, l. 558-562

Mules are not painted in a much better light. The only real compliments they receive are that they are better at ploughing the soil than oxen (Book 10, line 352) and that they are very strong (Book 17, lines 742-743). Their star role is when they help bring back the body of Hector when Priam goes into the Achaean camp to beg for Achilles’ mercy. Neither donkeys nor mules are ever named or otherwise individualised.

Mules as pack animals, from the palace of Ashurbanipal in Nineveh, 7th c. BCE. British Museum 124879

The hardships of being a Homeric horse

Being a horse in Homer’s world could be tough. There may be times when they would get to graze in large herds in green pastures. But references to how horses are treated when pulling the chariot do not point a particularly pleasant picture:

So [Agamemnon] spoke, and his charioteer whipped the fine-maned horses
towards the hollow ships, and they flew willingly on;
their chest were covered in foam and spattered beneath with dust

Book 11, l. 280-282

Not much is said about the specifics of everyday training of horses in Homer, but passages like these provide a hint as to the methods used. The realities of war is an altogether different category.

Egyptian whip handle, 14th c. BCE. The Met 26.7.1293

Ugly war

War is ugly. The Iliad is in many ways a long, detailed narrative of the gore of war. Limbs are torn off, bones broken and brains mushed. For horses too, it is far from a pretty affair. In one instance, the gods have been interfering on both sides but then left the battle to sit next to Zeus and simply watch. Achilles is left to continue his mad rampage, slaughtering the Trojans and their single-hoofed horses (Book 21, line 351).

We get an explicit description of the death of Achilles’ trace horse when Patroclus has borrowed the chariot and horses to go fight in Achilles’ place:

Sarpedon threw second at him with his shining spear and
missed Patroclus, but hit the horse Pedasus with the spear
on its right shoulder; it screamed as it grasped its life away,
and fell bellowing in the dust, and the life flew from it.

Book 16, l. 466-469

Scene of battle with chariot and warriors. The Met 56.171.9. Horses and mules were part of war even in modern times. Large numbers were lost during WWI.

Sacrifice

As if the violence of battle wasn’t enough, humans subjected horses to yet another type of untimely death: that of sacrificing them (and other animals) to supernatural beings. Horses were probably not the most common sacrificial animal, but their deaths must have been quite a spectacle. When Achilles kills Lycaon and throws him into the river, he says to him,

Not even this clear-flowing, silver-swirling river will help you,
this river for whom you have for many years sacrificed bulls
in plenty, and hurled single-hoofed horses alive into its eddies.

Book 21, l. 130-132

Of course the most notorious sacrifice in The Iliad is the one performed by Achilles at Patroclus’ funeral. This large sacrifice included “many strong sheep and shambling, crook-horned cattle”, four strong-necked horses which were “hurriedly flung onto the pyre”, nine dogs whose throats were cut, and 12 young Trojan men (Book 23, lines 161-177). There is a slightly different rationale behind the sacrifice of each animal here. Sheep and cattle are standard sacrificial animals, and it is particularly important that their fat is distributed in the prescribed manner. The dogs were Patroclus’ own, and seem to have been sent with him (or perhaps assumed to not want to live without him). The Trojans were sacrificed as a fairly basic kind of revenge for Patroclus’ death. The horses are less clear given that they are not the ones Patroclus drove in life. Those would be Achilles’ own divine horses, and he is obviously not willing to part with them. Instead, the ones actually sacrificed were probably substitutes.

It is possible that in some instances, it was considered a great honour to be a sacrificial victim. There is no indication of that in this particular event, and as a wise man (i.e. Nietzsche) once remarked, no one ever let the animals speak for themselves.

Keeping horses

It’s not all bad news for Homer’s horses. We are told of how they are fed and something apparently happily munching away at their manger. There is even an awareness of the realities and practicalities of war, where there is not always enough supplies for everybody. This was the concern of Pandarus when he decided not to bring his horses and chariots to the war:

Here I do not have horses, or a chariot that I can mount;
yet in Lycaon’s halls you must know that I have eleven chariots,
fine ones, freshly built, brand new. Over them cloths
are spread, and next to them pairs of horses
stand, champing on white barley and emmer wheat.
…
wanting to spare my horses, in case they ran short of fodder in
places where men are crowded together, and they used to plentiful food.
So I left them behind, and I came to Ilium on foot

Book 5, l. 192-196, 202-204

During the horserace that Achilles puts on at Patroclus’ funeral games, Menelaus attempts to spare his horses for fear that they and their chariot will be hurt (Book 23, l. 433-437).

Horses are even at times spoiled, as when Andromache took care of Hector’s horses, or when Patroclus groomed Achilles’ horses:

a kindly man, who would often pour smooth olive oil over
their manes after he had washed them down in bright water

Book 21, l. 281-282

Note, though, how it is not their owner taking care of them, but a helper, groom or charioteer.

Homer’s horses were not given a choice as to whether or not they wanted to take part in the Trojan war. Other than that, they are every bit as versatile in their mood and actions as their human – and divine – counterparts.

Scene of chariot with four horses on Greek vase from Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek

The horse versus the rest: Depictions of equids in the 18th dynasty of ancient Egypt

This blog post is written by the wonderful Lonneke Delpeut, who is an expert on horses in ancient Egypt. We met at a conference in Stavanger, with my favourite title so far: Horses, moving. Those two words encapsulate my subject and my approach very neatly, with horses the subject (and of course other equids, let’s not forget) and ‘moving’ expressing a sense of agency and intention – horses moving and being moved. Lonneke presented a fascinating paper on images of Egyptian horses, with an important distinction between what is being depicted and how it is being depicted. She kindly agreed to contribute with a post here, and I have very much been looking forward to it, so here we go…

 

by Lonneke Delpeut

With the introduction of the horse in Egypt at the beginning of the Eighteenth dynasty (1550 B.C.), the artists and craftsmen responsible for making the beautiful depictions in tombs and temples had a new animal to display. They had to transform a three-dimensional being into something flat. Luckily, the artisans had plenty of experience depicting all kinds of four-legged animals, so the horse might have been new, but the appearance of it would be inspired by other animals. There are other equids that had been known in Egypt, namely the zebra (Equus grevyi and Equus quagga) as well as the wild ass, the Equus asinus. Two types of donkeys had been known in Egypt since the Old Kingdom, the time of the pyramids, namely the domesticated donkey (Equus Africanus asinus) and its ancestor that was still hunted, namely the Equus Africanus. Lastly, the horse was introduced relatively late, completing the collection of equids in Egypt. Since donkeys had been depicted in Egypt for a very long time, and one had to draw the horse based on something, the first depictions of the horse look a lot like donkeys. Most prominently alike is the way their legs are displayed in exactly the same: all four on the ground but apart from each other. This is how the Egyptians indicated movement by four-legged animals; the artist had to be sure that the observer knew the animals were moving forward.

Most important for the Egyptian artist was for the observer to identify the concept he was trying to convey correctly. This means that beside the shared characteristics between donkeys and horses, the Egyptians had to put in some horse-specific features too. These features in the beginning of the Eighteenth dynasty were especially important since the horse was new; in Egypt as an animal, but also as a depiction. One of these features was the colour of the horses’ coat. We see that many horses show white (which means grey) and chestnut coat colours at the beginning of the Eighteenth dynasty (fig. 1), which distinguishes them from donkeys, who are always grey with white. We know that the Egyptians were well aware of the fact that white-coloured horses are not truly white, since in many cases the snout is depicted as grey and their eyes are brown. We can even tell the difference between young and old horses, since in one Theban tomb, the tomb of Menkheperreseneb (TT86) the manes are depicted a darker kind of orange (a sign of a young horse) than the other pair of horses. Another factor that shows the pictorial difference between donkeys are horses are the manes that are depicted flat in the neck. This is a feature that changes further on in the Eighteenth dynasty. These features are horse-specific to distinguish the horse from the donkey.

Fig. 1. Syrians bringing horses, Tomb of Rekhmire. The Met.

Another difference between donkeys and horses is the work they do. Donkeys are often depicted as beasts of burden, and even though horses pull chariots, they are only used as a mode of transportation for human beings. This is contrary to donkeys, which were used to carry heavy bags of grain, they are used to plant seeds by walking them into the ground and are never shown depicted in front of chariots. The only other equid that is allowed in front of a chariot, is a hybrid. It is uncertain whether the Egyptian hybrids were mules or hinnies, but they are most certainly hybrids since they show characteristics of both horses and donkeys. In fig. 2 for example, we see a depiction from the tomb of Nebamun, now in the British Museum in London. The upper part shows two horses in front of a chariot, and the lower part shows two hybrids in front of a chariot. The coat colour and the tail belong to donkey-like features while the chariot, the ears and the size belong to horse-like features. The fact that they are depicted so closely to each other is no coincidence; the observer is challenged to immediately tell the difference between the horses and the hybrids.

Fig. 2. Wall painting from Tomb of Nebanum, Thebes. The British Museum.

Another significant difference visible in this scene is the behaviour of the animals and their grooms. The horses have their heads raised, their feet seem restless, and the groom holds the reins tightly with both hands, standing behind the chariot. The hybrids however are eating from a trough that is standing on the ground, and their groom is sitting on the chariot with his back to the animals. He had such confidence in the calm, resting hybrids that he can afford to not pay constant attention to them. This is in strong contrast with the horses’ groom, who cannot afford to let them out of his sight. This partly shows the actual difference in behaviour between horses and hybrids, but it is also a feature that helps the observer distinguish the hybrids from the horses. Another important difference is that the horses seem to have been castrated, since only the phallus sheath is visible, while the hybrids still show all possible masculine gender markers: they are stallions, without a doubt.

The Egyptians had to be sure the observer identified the horses as such. At the beginning of the Eighteenth dynasty, they did this by making sure the colour and the manes were depicted differently from those of donkeys, but as time goes by, the horse starts to develop its own pictorial characteristics. Not only are they depicted differently, they are also used differently, as donkeys are never depicted pulling chariots. This so to say ‘privilege’ was mainly reserved for our beloved noble animals: the horse.

 

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If you want to learn more, here’s some recommended reading to get you started:

J. Baines, ‘Theories and Universals of Representation’ in: Art History (vol. 8, no. 1; March 1985).

M. Bibby, ‘The Arrival of the Horse in Egypt: New Approaches and a Hypothesis’, in: R. Ives, D. Lines, C. Naunton (eds), Current Research in Egyptology III: December 2011 (BAR IS 1192; Oxford, 2003).

J. Clutton-Brock, P. Raulwing, ‘The Buhen Horse: Fifty Years after its Discovery (1958-2008) (Journal of Egyptian History 2.1-1; 2009).

D. Laboury, Tradition and Creativity: Inter-iconicity, in: T. Gillen, (Re)productive Traditions in Ancient Egypt (AegLeo 10; Liege, 2017).

A.R. Schulman, ‘Egyptian Representations of Horsemen and Riding in the New Kingdom’ (Journal of Near Eastern Studies 16, 1957).