Navigation – Plan du site

AccueilNuméros118The Road to Mounira

The Road to Mounira

Jaroslav Černý at the IFAO
Hana Navratilova
p. 283-316

Résumés

L’égyptologue d’origine tchèque Jaroslav Černý (1898-1970) fut un citoyen d’abord tchécoslovaque, puis apatride, actif en Tchécoslovaquie, Égypte, Italie, France, Grande-Bretagne, Allemagne et aux États-Unis. Il commença en 1925 une carrière cosmopolite et dense à l’Institut français d’archéologie orientale, où il bénéficia de la position privilégiée qu’occupait la France auprès du Service des antiquités, et de son appui politique à la Tchécoslovaquie. La dynamique intellectuelle et politique des échanges entre les deux pays prend un éclairage particulier à la lumière des éléments biographiques de la vie de Černý. Au-delà, sa collaboration avec l’Ifao constitua également une étape marquante dans le lancement de sa carrière : elle lui ouvrit des perspectives de coopération, dans le domaine égyptologique, en Égypte et au niveau international, et surtout elle lui permit de conduire son programme de recherche sur la communauté villageoise de Deir el-Medina. Bien plus que l’illustration d’une stratégie occidentale de domination politique en Égypte, le temps passé par Černý à l’Ifao exprime la tentative d’une petite nation européenne de rentrer dans le jeu des grandes puissances désireuses de s’approprier l’héritage culturel de l’Égypte ancienne en en comprenant les ressorts.

Haut de page

Texte intégral

Acknowledgements L. Bavay, A. Bednarski, G. Castel, N. Cherpion, C. Gobeil, F. Haikal, C. Larcher, C. Lewis, A. Jůnová Macková, L. Jůn, B. Madden, J. Malek, N. Michel, J. Růžová, C.M. Sheikholeslami, Griffith Institute Archive, Archives IFAO, Archive of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs of the Czech Republic, and Archives of the Prague Castle, Prague; supported by grant project IFAO, Action spécifique J. Černý, and Czech Science Foundation, no. 17-22085S, Habitus českých vědců v letech 1918–1968. Příklad dvou generací [Habitus of Czech scholars 1918-1968. A case study of two generations].

Biographical Research in Egyptology?1

  • 1 To be discussed in detail in a forthcoming publication concerned with life writing and the history (...)
  • 2 Discussed by A. Bednarski (2015); further T. Gertzen (2017).
  • 3 Thompson 2015, p. 8.
  • 4 See also an introduction to archival research for Egyptologists, Gertzen 2017.
  • 5 Lee 2008, pp. 2–3.

1Personal details of an Egyptologist’s life do not come under scrutiny consistently, apart from dedicated biographies,2 even though “Egyptologists also displayed an early and persistent inclination to write their autobiographies,”3 and one of the early resources for the history of the discipline was a Who was Who handbook now reaching its fourth edition (Bierbrier [ed.] 2012). Nonetheless, history of Egyptology is at present often concerned with larger schemes of institutional development, research paradigms or research projects, or a political context. The reasons for the conceptualization of a disciplinary history in the above terms are diverse, including a pragmatic aspect. Official documents, published work, and indeed institutional archives and records of negotiations may be less problematic to access and to interpret than a compilation of puzzle pieces from different personal bequests,4 often incomplete and leaving too much for speculation that often happens in a biographically-oriented research. “Biographies are full of verifiable facts, but they are also full of things that aren’t there: absences, gaps, missing evidence, knowledge or information that has been passed from person to person, losing credibility or shifting shape on the way.”5

  • 6 Bednarski 2015.
  • 7 Cf. Lee 2008, pp. 8–16.
  • 8 Cf. Renders, De Haan (eds.) 2014.
  • 9 Cf. Lee 2008, p. 86.
  • 10 Compare a balanced analysis by L. Ryzova (2014) of Egyptian modernization and the formation of the (...)
  • 11 Cf. also Marchand 2009, p. xix–xxv.
  • 12 Compare Latour 2005, pp. 23–24.
  • 13 Rorty 1989, p. 43.

2Yet, biographies are a discussed genre in history of science (“science” used in this context as scholarship including sciences and humanities), and in history of Egyptology. As Andrew Bednarski (2015) delineated, “Biographies of Egyptologists offer yet another approach to the history of Egyptology. […] It offers the researcher/author a definite, and relatively short, temporal period to investigate. With such an approach the writer may therefore avoid the superficiality occasionally inflicted by publishers’ word limits. This approach also allows for concentration on different geographic areas—with the narrative following the subject’s movements. At the same time, […] such works run the risk of mythologizing their subject matter.”6 Long-term projects of biographies are known to have this risky effect, compared by historian and biographer Richard Ellmann to the “Stockholm syndrome” characterised by an irrational, to all appearances, bond between a captor and a hostage, here the subject and his or her biographer. There is a fine line to tread between the above risk and a humane approach, unless the writer is protected by an overtly clinical, tenaciously critical, or contemptuous attitude to the subject,7 although in the last above case creating a mythology of dark powers is still a mythology. One of the difficulties is already conceptualised in the “subject,” to be produced, shaped, and imposed disciplines upon, to become a product of his or her social world, using more or less opportunistically his or her social capital to achieve goals pre-set by a social structure. The subject in question was nonetheless an individual, with social, physical and cognitive capital,8 and limits, and she or he had a life to live, a body and health status to inhabit and cope with,9 and a social status to develop, achieve or eschew.10 Individual strategies and practices also had a scope and motivations, in a diverse range.11 It would be a paradox if in the moment when medical professionals are motivated to see their patients holistically, historians-biographers were expected to dissociate and compartmentalise to achieve a clinical, but potentially also one-sided view. There are several approaches amending the approach. Considering an actor, or an actor in a network perhaps,12 instead of a subject, may widen our options, as biographers and as historians of scholarship. Similarly stimulating is the Rortian notion of contingencies of language, self, and community, that nonetheless enable a human being the space for “the need to come to terms with the blind impress which chance has given him, to make a self for himself by redescribing that impress in terms which are, if only marginally, his own.”13

  • 14 Note by Felski 2012: “The exceptionalist aura of critique often thwarts attempts to get outside it (...)
  • 15 See for instance Meskell 2000.
  • 16 Phrase coined by Paul Ricœur.
  • 17 Differences and relationships between the two discussed by R. Felski (2012).

3Hence, the above mentioned authorial limitations in history writing are not always inflicted only by the publisher, although the contextual pressures of publishing have a major role. There are also self-inflicted limitations, not seldom imposed by following a paradigm or an intellectual challenge, including that of critique, which may easily come to dominate the analysis,14 ultimately perplexing its own insights by use of a doctrinal language and—relevantly for history of scholarship—demonization of knowledge as an abused tool of power.15 It is one thing to identify the situatedness of scholarship in its time and community, and another to disregard the value of knowledge-making. That would be taking the “hermeneutics if suspicion”16 or indeed, “critique” rather too far.17

  • 18 So Felski 2012.
  • 19 Latour 2004, p. 227 and 231, emphasis by B. Latour.

4Bruno Latour noticed in 2004 that these approaches, the general “againstness,”18 may easily be adoperated against any focused pursuit of knowledge: “the danger would no longer be coming from an excessive confidence in ideological arguments posturing as matters of fact—as we have learned to combat so efficiently in the past—but from an excessive distrust of good matters of fact disguised as bad ideological biases” and furthermore “a certain form of critical spirit has sent us down the wrong path, encouraging us to fight the wrong enemies and, worst of all, to be considered as friends by the wrong sort of allies because of a little mistake in the definition of its main target. The question was never to get away from facts but closer to them, not fighting empiricism but, on the contrary, renewing empiricism.”19

  • 20 Boghossian 2006, p. 17, with further references. P. Boghossian and also I. Hacking discussed the s (...)
  • 21 Articulated in a number of studies, cf. Erll, Nünning (eds.) 2008, Cubitt 2007.
  • 22 Cf. Certeau 1975, an English edition Certeau 1992.
  • 23 Marchand 2009, p. xxi.

5Concerning social constructionism in general, its critic Paul Boghossian observed that “a typical social construction claim will involve not merely the claim that a particular fact was built by a social group, but that it was constructed in a way that reflects their contingent needs and interests, so that had they not had those needs and interests they might well not have constructed that fact.”20 Rather than facts (such as existence of series of events in Egypt between 3000 BC to 4th century AD, or a physical existence of a particular Egyptologist that lived from 1898 to 1970), however, we build our narratives about them reflecting current needs and interests that are often articulated within social memory21 and not seldom also within historiography. In historiography, social constructionism would indicate that a particular narrative is omitted or fact marginalised because there is no contingent need to articulate it, or, as is often indicated with and post Michel Foucault, and Michel de Certeau,22 because those who control knowledge as power, and have built a corresponding discourse, intend to have a fact or a narrative absent from or suppressed in a wider historical account. However, “too frequently, discourses are identified by selectively assembling lines and phrases from disparate texts, and in the attempt to make power relations paramount, modern commentators are led to pick out metaphors […] that have more to do with our own interests than with the authors’ original ideas.”23

  • 24 Compare Wendrich 2010, pp. 178–195 and Meskell 2000.

6Significantly for history of Egyptology, studies in colonial and postcolonial era were applied to explain that Western (or European) interest in ancient and modern history of the colonised regions was in large part a result as well as a tool of a colonial competition, or colonial control, extended into the realms of local memory, and history. The productive element of thinking along these lines is obvious—widening the scope of history of science, and inducing a research reflexivity to sensitize the practitioners of archaeology and Oriental studies to the context of their activities, and formation of their practices, etc.24 However, there is a drawback—it is a great victory for political history that science is explained predominantly in terms of politics—and an understandable one, given a preceding tendency to evade these connections. It is not one that should be accepted unchallenged, though; first, it may offer a selective intellectual history, and second, it may suppress case-specific historical research in favour of extensive generalizations, which may be no more inclusive than previous narratives.

  • 25 Tosh 2009, p. 22.
  • 26 Gange 2013, p. 325.
  • 27 Compare Wendrich 2010, offering a generally balanced assessment of the current Egyptological situa (...)
  • 28 Kohl 2010, pp. 328–329.

7Political motivations have influenced historiography and produced commemorative strategies or social amnesia with significant consequences. Often, some facts were suppressed, and others also emphasized, including out of proportion, and narratives built, or inflated, because of needs and interests—“many well-established historical specialisms today have their origin in an explicit political need.”25 In fact, current torrent of contextualisation of archaeology and Egyptology in order to “recognize the intrinsically political nature of archaeology in Egypt”26 is in part also politically motivated to contribute to intellectual tools for raising a cultural self-awareness, which may be constructive—and very much so in archaeology.27 But it may be occasionally diverted in a sort of bashing the West, or, perhaps more dangerously, in bashing scholarship in humanities—here it is easy to be considered as friends by the wrong sort of allies, as B. Latour put it. The danger of offering a filtered narrative, even if initially filtered by sympathetic support or political correctness, is significant and “potentially misused in ways never envisioned by the empathetic revisionist scholar.”28

8But all of the above does not signify that a fact only starts to exist when we have built a politically-motivated narrative concerning it, however likeable the idea is. On the other hand, neither does it signify that a study that began inspired by a political need may not produce astute and perceptive historiography. Here we are coming full circle—to the need of renewed empiricism applied to historical scholarship, and of inclusive histories, irrespective of their primary motivation (I admit this is a tall order), not a new exclusion. Exclusion was certainly not the aim of key recent historiographical narratives that are striving to give voice to the previously excluded and marginalised.

  • 29 Lewis 2016, p. 1.
  • 30 Compare Marchand 2009, pp. xxv–xxvi.
  • 31 Boghossian 2006, p. 113.
  • 32 Compare contributions in Renders, De Haan (eds.) 2014, also St Clair 2002, Söderqvist 1996.
  • 33 Marchand 2009, p. xxi.

9In that respect, a middle ground29 in history of science allowing for an approach that would not be monopolised by one methodology, one paradigm, would help to ensure that we do not miss individual practices, intellectual concerns, and indeed individual human lives, among institutional strategies, and the pursuit of knowledge among its many—albeit significant—exigencies.30 There is a strong case for contextualising scholarship in its social and cultural history, different social registers, and discourses; it is a case that is accepted across research paradigms—including by critics of social constructionism as such, e.g. Ian Hacking or P. Boghossian. The latter stated that regarding science as a complex social phenomenon, “there is clearly considerable scope for studying its sociological and political aspects in a rigorous and responsible manner.”31 Biography, and biographical elements in historiography, continue to be of some application in this respect, not as a hero worship, but as a balancing act, where an individual agency is attributed some significance.32 An example of good practice, setting individuals back on stage, not just beneath “the surface of the texts”33 was offered by Suzanne Marchand in German Orientalism in the Age of Empire.

  • 34 Marchand 2009, p. xxxii.

10In a particular condition of early twentieth century Egyptology, there were many contingent needs, not least those political, articulated by several stakeholders—European powers, some of which operated in a colonial system paradigm (by itself not a monolith), and the Egyptian nation, and nationalism. These phenomena both opposed and complemented each other. However, Western and Egyptian cooperation in Egyptology happened despite some Western solidarity in managing Egyptian antiquities in an imperialist framework, as put by Donald M. Reid. It was knowledge-making, not empire-making, that kept bringing Egyptologists to Egypt, even if empire-making was a significant element in the process. Despite popular interest and political context, chairs in Egyptology were few, well-endowed institutes likewise, and “it was never particularly easy or popular to be an orientalist.”34

  • 35 Reid 1997, p. 149.

11D.M. Reid in the end admitted the existence of “an internationalist ideal of objective scholarship,” adding an interesting quote from American Egyptologist John Wilson—“We still say wistfully that matters of culture should not be affected by politics. We must continue to act in that hope so that it may be partially true.”35 Most of the life of Egyptologist Jaroslav Černý was spent acting in that hope, whilst being influenced by academic culture as well as politics of the day. The ensuing contribution follows his first passage to Egypt, and several formative years that preceded it.

The Subject/Actor

  • 36 Personal communication Georges Castel, October 2017.

12Jaroslav Černý (1898–1970) was an Egyptologist of Czech origin, a Czechoslovak and later stateless citizen, active in Czechoslovakia, Egypt, Italy, France, Great Britain, Germany and the United States. He commenced a cosmopolitan and productive part of his career at the Institut français d’archéologie orientale in Cairo in 1925. He became attaché étranger and a frequent member of the IFAO missions from 1925 to 1940, and again from 1950. His long-standing relationship with the work of the IFAO lasted until his last visit to Egypt in spring 1970,36 and was mainly occasioned by his long-term interest in the site of Deir el-Medina.

  • 37 Outline Bierbrier (ed.) 2012, pp. 110–112.
  • 38 Edwards 1972, O’Connor 1970, pp. 2–5.
  • 39 James 1971, pp. 185–189.

13An introduction to his career was presented in a number of papers,37 starting with some of the more detailed obituaries,38 and in his brief biography Scribe in the Place of Truth by Jiřina Růžová in 2010. The latter summed the outline of his life and widespread professional network, including elements of political support by the Masaryk circle. The contributions generally highlighted his research (he formulated a detailed research approach to the community of workmen in Deir el-Medina already in 1926, leaving an unfinished synthesis in 1970), and a production of still relevant and available unpublished research material, but also his participation at research and social networks of Egyptologists. He was at first a follower of several influential Egyptologists, and then considered an influencer.39

  • 40 Marchand 2009, p. xxv.

14The contributions on his life tend to share a generally positive tone—and this approach has become generally problematised in historiography and seen arguably as a sign of a lack of critical thinking. Yet, obituaries should be excused, as they represent a genre in their own right. Considering the outline biography by J. Růžová, and contributions by Jaromir Malek, these were the first to map the complex career of the internationally active Egyptologist, and were not targeted at formulating a comprehensive critical biography. One can hardly blame an orange for not being an apple. The positive tone is also hard to avoid entirely vis-à-vis the amount of knowledge produced by the man. Both the quantity and quality of his work make it worthwhile to analyse his knowledge-making practices and their context, including their limits. He does not need a “hagiography” in the derisory sense of that word, but I would also challenge the notion that he needs to be moulded and packaged into just another specimen of an “Orientalist,” and would agree instead with S. Marchand in finding “presumptuous and rather condescending the conception […] that all knowledge is power, especially since the prevailing way of understanding this formulation suggests that power is something sinister and oppressive.”40

  • 41 For the Egyptian side see Gershoni, Jankowski 1995, Ryzova 2014, for the Czechoslovak side see Kin (...)

15Černý’s complex habitus as an international scholar, mastering with diverse success different cultural registers and contexts, has not yet been addressed in detail. He lived in a period of national and nationalist advances both in his country of origin and in Egypt, when imagined communities of both a Czechoslovak, and an Egyptian nation were articulated, shaped and questioned again,41 integrating and contesting tradition, modernity, and a relationship to the past as an identity resource. He lived therefore in a time when also the practice of Egyptology was undergoing major transformations.

  • 42 So C. Desroches Noblecourt (1992, p. 42).
  • 43 James 1971, p. 189.
  • 44 Cf. Gange 2013.
  • 45 Pace Moreno Garcia 2015, pp. 50–63.

16His own multiple loyalties made him “French at heart,”42 and later at home in Great Britain—T.G.H. James saw it as “a matter of pride to British Egyptologists that he made his home in Britain for so many years.”43 Was he a “man for all seasons” then? Did he reflect on academic and political exigencies and his own position? And, among different countries he worked and lived in, how did he consider modern Egypt, and its relation to the subject matter of Egyptology, which, after all, was his profession, and a formative element in his life? The years 1922 to 1925, his early career, were a particularly dynamic period. Still, this chapter from the beginnings of his career does not aim at answering all of the above questions comprehensively, but rather at surveying the context that shaped them. It also surveys a career in Egyptology that was initially fashioned neither by a Biblical research,44 nor by “beautiful objects”45 for display, but included a study of sociology, and attempts at social history practices.

17Černý’s engagement with what was to become a long term interest in the community of workmen in Western Thebes, later specifically the ancient Egyptian community of Deir el-Medina, was first articulated in an accessible format (although not yet a publication) in 1922. He embarked on a research enterprise to be pursued for several decades, and one that stimulated diverse outcomes in the Egyptological production of knowledge. The beginnings, however, were shaped by a number of coincidences as well as by a nimble use of the circumstances by the protagonist.

  • 46 For the details of the tomb opening as noted by H. Carter and other participants, see Griffith Ins (...)
  • 47 For the text see Blaustein, Sigler, Beede (eds.) 1977, pp. 204–205 and King 1984, pp. 259–260.

18The year 1922 retains its significance in the history of Egyptology as the year of “wonderful things” uncovered in the tomb of Tutankhamun,46 but also of Egyptian political independence (if declared unilaterally by the United Kingdom).47 In comparison, a short (not even seventy pages long) dissertation of a 24-year-old student at the Charles University in Prague, as Černý was then, does not appear as an event of particular consequence. Between 1922, the year of his dissertation viva, and 1925, when Černý first came to the premises of Institut français d’archéologie orientale (IFAO) in the Cairo district of Mounira, and later continued to Deir el-Medina to work with Bernard Bruyère, the Czechoslovak Egyptologist (as he was then identified) undertook a physical as well as an intellectual journey. His early travels to Egypt in the 1920s were also aided and abetted by interests of Czechoslovak foreign policy and by the strategy of cultural diplomacy promoted by senior figures of Czechoslovak political life, including the first minister plenipotentiary to Egypt, Dr Cyrill Dušek, who arrived to Egypt in January 1922.

  • 48 Steiner 2007, p. 289.
  • 49 Concerning Dušek’s posting Jůnová Macková (ed.) 2014, including an English resumé.

19From the perspective of a developing Egyptian independence and political life, an arrival of a diplomat from Czechoslovakia, a Central European country, established in 1918, only four years ago, to Cairo in January 1922 did not cause any stir. In fact, it did not exactly cause a stir even in the Czechoslovak foreign policy, embroiled as it was in a not entirely successful balancing act between French and British interests.48 Setting up a legation or a consulate general in Egypt was almost an afterthought for the ministry of foreign affairs in Prague, as was shown in their somewhat naïve posting of a capable, but seriously ill, diplomat, Cyrill Dušek, to Egypt as the first envoy.49 But it was to become an important step for Černý, although Dušek probably did not know him, even if he might have known of him.

The Intellectual Journey

  • 50 Navratilova 2017. An outline of his family background also Růžová 2010.
  • 51 His language skills are shown in his school certificates (City Archives of Pilsen, Files of the II (...)

20Černý was, in terms of education and socialisation, a middle-class creation of Austrian-Hungarian classical grammar schools that were just as much a disciplinary apparatus as they were means of social mobility. His lower middle-class family was characterised by aspirations to social mobility and overcoming of social barriers, if with limited material means.50 A strong element in his early training consisted of languages, pursued as part of the school curriculum as well as outside it. By the end of his grammar school studies, Černý learnt (apart from Czech, which was the preferred tongue in the family), also German (not unusual in a largely bilingual Pilsen), French (the language of Bohemian intellectual exploration), English, and some Italian. He was further to add Serbo-Croatian.51 It was rather a purposeful language training.

  • 52 F. Lexa was active as grammar school teacher, equally historian J. Šusta and other university teac (...)

21Černý aimed at an academic occupation, cultivating an interest in Oriental languages, specifically Egyptian, since early grammar school years, but chose an untypical career in order to secure an opportunity to do research. Czech scholars usually aimed at a position at a grammar school as the intermediary step to a university career, whereas Černý opted early in his studies for an accountant’s training and held an administrative position in a Prague bank, Živnobanka. This was a different course in comparison with most of his teachers, or coevals.52 Parallel to the practical solutions for his sustenance, he sought support from other Czech scholars interested, mostly privately, in a promotion of Egyptian studies.

  • 53 Introductory information on Lexa and development of early Egyptology at the Prague universities, s (...)

22In 1917, Černý approached František Lexa (1876–1960), then a private scholar (although also a recipient of Austrian government grants that enabled him studies with Wilhelm Spiegelberg and Adolphe Erman).53 In a much later recollection, their meeting was presented thus:

  • 54 Černý 1946.

In September 1917, a nineteen-year old student, en route through Prague, knocked on a door in Mánes street at Vinohrady, to meet a grammar school professor. He introduced himself as having an interest already of several years’ standing, in Ancient Egypt and in particular in Egyptian language and writing. He also had a card and a reference from J.V. Prášek, a renowned historian. The reference, however, was hardly necessary, as professor Lexa welcomed the other rare bird, who was also interested in Egyptian inscriptions and attempted to understand Egyptian language and lexicon.54

  • 55 Archive of the Charles University in Prague, Faculty of Arts, Student registers, winter semester 1 (...)
  • 56 Aspects of his early formation at the university necessitate further study. Cf. list of classes in (...)

23Černý trained as a classical scholar in Prague from 1917, with classes in Greek and Latin philology, history and epigraphy, but soon included also lectures in sociology and psychology in his curriculum.55 His teachers were promoters of the respective disciplines at the Prague University—sociologist Břetislav Foustka and—briefly—psychologist František Čáda. Břetislav Foustka (1862–1947) was a sociologist and the first Professor of sociology at the Charles University in Prague. Foustka was a follower of Tomáš G. Masaryk, also a professor of sociology, and his work encompassed a number of sociological issues, from eugenics to alcohol abuse. His classes used the American sociologist Franklin Henry Giddings as a reading list staple. Foustka translated The Principles of Sociology (1896) as Základy sociologie. Rozbor jevů, týkajících se associace a společenské organisace, in 1898. F.H. Giddings edited also Readings in Descriptive and Historical Sociology in 1906, essentially a reading book, introducing an analytical approach to societies of the past. Its use in Foustka’s classes remains, however, an unknown quantity. František Čáda (1865–1918) was a psychologist and philosopher with a particular interest in child development. None of the above preferred themes was directly reflected in later works of Černý, although his attention to private and social life of ancient societies might have been generally influenced also from that direction.56 In his choice of classes, there was already a hint at a divergence from a purely philological model of studies.

  • 57 Archive of the Charles University in Prague, Faculty of Arts, List of students 1920–1921 Inv. No.  (...)

24Oriental studies—Akkadian, Arabic, and geography and history of the Middle East—came as a next step in the university curriculum, taught by both philologists and specialists with a fieldwork experience in diverse directions—Bedřich Hrozný and Alois Musil. Bedřich Hrozný (1879–1952) was a Hittitologist and specialist in ancient history, renowned for his decipherment of the Hittite cuneiform texts. Hrozný obtained a doctorate in Berlin, and was probably the best philologically trained Orientalist scholar in Prague at the time. Alois Musil (1868–1944) was an Arabist, traveller, rediscoverer of Quseyr Amra—and a shrewd politician. Both had experience in diverse aspects of fieldwork, including epigraphy. Musil was interested in a geographical situation of the ancient world, and one of his classes that Černý attended was “Trade routes of the Orient: ancient and modern.”57

  • 58 Topics he referred to repeatedly in his introductory chapters to translations of Egyptian literary (...)
  • 59 Cf. Gange 2013, Marchand 2009.

25A formal training in Egyptology came last, when František Lexa introduced Egyptology as a recognized subject at the Charles University in Prague in 1919/1920. Neither Lexa, nor his pupils were conceptualizing Egyptology as an auxiliary to classical philology or to Biblical studies, but as an independent contribution to the history of mankind. Lexa was interested in psychology and philosophy (being a pupil of Masaryk), hence was drawn to study of script, written culture, and any insight he expected the latter might have provided into ethics and mentality of the Egyptians.58 There was no significant link to a Biblical exegesis at the beginnings of Prague Egyptology in Lexa’s concept, the more so as Lexa was known for his anticlerical outlook. This set him somewhat apart from Flinders Petrie, and a number of British and German Orientalists.59

  • 60 Compare outline by Onderka (ed.) 2015.

26As a necessary prerequisite to any seriously conceived study of Egyptian ethics and abstract thinking (under which Lexa subsumed magic as well as major religious concepts), Lexa focused on philology and work with texts. He also had no major public collection and no excavation at his disposal—a direct contact with Egyptian antiquities, unless visited in collections of museums abroad, was limited to a small collection of the National Museum in Prague and to private collections.60 The orientation at philology coincided also with the influential Berlin school of Egyptology, to which Lexa had a link. Finally, in 1920, there were no articulated policy preferences of Czechoslovakia that would have concerned choices of research subjects for the small discipline of Egyptology, except one issue—a personal interest of Masaryk in Egyptology. There was to be also a political interest in contemporary Egypt, again connected to the Masaryk circle, which included also Cyrill Dušek. However, in 1920–1922, these were still very fluid elements.

  • 61 “Perché, forse gli astronomi vanno sulle stele?”, attributed to Giuseppe Botti.

27In this context, Černý (fig. 1), already interested in script and language, could have developed his professional formation in different directions. One option was to be a museum-based Egyptologist with primary interest in written culture and objects only inasmuch as they were already published or brought to a somewhat clinical environment of a museum (if available), such as was the case with his contemporary and later friend Giuseppe Botti. Botti allegedly compared his own work and engagement with Egyptian objects, but not sites, to that of an astronomer who was, in Botti’s view, also without a necessity to visit the observed stars.61 However, Lexa (despite his lacking a field experience) might have shaped Černý’s direction of studies toward social and cultural history, and probably aided also Černý’s choice of the sociology classes. That, together with influence of Musil and Hrozný, opened a different perspective. Namely a course of study, where texts could not have been divorced from objects and neither of the two categories of evidence from their makers and users.

Fig. 1. Jaroslav Černý in December 1922, shortly after receiving his doctorate.

Fig. 1. Jaroslav Černý in December 1922, shortly after receiving his doctorate.

© Archive of the Czech National Bank, Prague, fonds Živnobanka, file J. Černý.

28Černý’s dissertation was still mainly text-based, but it had also encompassed contextual interpretation including a historical topography of the studied region. He commenced his research with an idea of a synthetic social and economic history of ancient Egypt, a rather ambitious task for a dissertation. When it proved not feasible, Černý focused on a collection of texts which he knew from the Berlin Wörterbuch pool, and from publications of Wilhelm Spiegelberg, some in transcripts of Alan Gardiner, who worked on the Ramesside administrative corpus for the purposes of the Wörterbuch project. He noted that these papyri related to Western Thebes in the later New Kingdom (hence his choice of dates from 1300 to 1000) and were concerned with professional groups of people related to particular locations in Thebes. Spiegelberg’s publications further influenced research choices of Černý and shaped his methodology, as will be shown below.

29The “Life of workmen in Thebes,” as Černý’s dissertation was titled, was presented as a quite daring synthetic attempt, which it was not (and was assessed as such already by his examiners, Hrozný and Musil). Even so, it included a number of observations that stood the test of changing interpretations, or that served as a start for further analytical queries (e.g. the specific status of workmen on the West bank, the administration supervised directly by the highest Theban and state officials, the specific terminology used for different categories of workers, and the group smdt).

  • 62 Černý 1922.

30The Černý dissertation62 consisted of two parts, preceded by an introduction and a list of references. The reference list included publication of papyri, ostraca, and varia. There were most major editions of papyri and ostraca he had used in the dissertation, and analytical studies by Spiegelberg; there was also Thomas E. Peet and his 1920 publication on the tomb robberies.

31The first part was an introduction to different aspects of the work and daily existence of professional groups defined as mw.w or rm kd.t, not yet sm ʿš n.t s.t mȝʿ.t in particular. The proposed economic and social history took up a minor part only. A brief topography of Western Thebes (fig. 2), with suggested localisations of frequently used terms, such as r, was followed by considerations on prosopography and administration. Černý outlined that official titles, and work roles, as well as personal prosopography of individual inhabitants, might be reconstructed using the papyri and other local finds, such as graffiti (he had used the term “sgraffiti” in his early work, which is a somewhat out-of-place expression), again following Spiegelberg. The details of organisation of work at the necropolis were described rather in a style of essays with select references, than a systematic analysis. Černý had a tendency to enliven the narrative by shorter excursi on individual members of the community usually based on their problematic behaviour, such as the foreman Paneb. He was interpreting freely, and on occasion without further scrutiny. The critical apparatus and comparative material was limited.

Fig. 2. Page 6 of Černý’s dissertation, with a schematic map of Western Thebes.

Fig. 2. Page 6 of Černý’s dissertation, with a schematic map of Western Thebes.

© Archive of the Charles University in Prague, Faculty of Arts dissertations collection.

  • 63 Černý 1922, p. 12.

32After chapters listing categories or groups of workmen, and their overseers and close, if partly unspecified relationship to the vizier as responsible for Western Thebes, he looked into a workman’s property and household, admitting incomplete knowledge for interpreting a number of Egyptian words.63 Nonetheless, he offered what looked like an ambitious project of mapping ancient Egyptian daily life, with chapters entitled “Organisation of the necropolis and its workmen, Workers’ property and family, Work and leisure, Wages and nourishment,” and “Religion and morality.” In fact, they were short cameos of the workmen’s life, with details inferred from a circumscribed textual corpus, but with extended excursi on individual sources.

  • 64 Černý 1922, p. 14.
  • 65 Spiegelberg 1895, p. 10.
  • 66 Černý 1922, p. 16.
  • 67 Spiegelberg 1895, p. 5.
  • 68 Compare Marchand 2009, p. 160.
  • 69 Cf. also Moreno Garcia 2015, pp. 50–63.
  • 70 It was shown more clearly later in his public lectures, e.g. Černý s.a.

33On occasion, the interpretation reflected a modern understanding rather than probable—and unknown ancient social nuances, such as when the women of the workmen were described as either “actually married or just common-law,” which is a modern distinction that may, but need not, be applicable in an ancient context.64 The original Czech expression for “common-law” literally meant “wild marriage,” probably copying Spiegelberg’s “wilde Ehe.”65 The status of women was represented by a jigsaw puzzle of details—their titles, marital status, and role of the menstruation,66 which was also included in Spiegelberg’s study.67 Similarly, food and rations, work and leisure and ethics and religion were discussed in a series of brief chapters. All in all, it made an appearance of an ambitious project with restricted means—as Černý had admitted in his preface. What was also visible in the dissertation, was Černý’s enjoyment of his research topic. Although he applied as much of a critical apparatus as he was trained to use at that point of his professional development, he also wrote with gusto, and an interest in the elusive humanity of the past people. In Oriental studies, enjoyment, or aesthetic delight were long exiled to the margins,68 and in Egyptology alternatively banished and overstated, depending on the philological or archaeological leanings.69 In his later works Černý “betrayed” his positivist training occasionally to stray into his sympathetic reflections, especially on Egyptian social life and Egyptian art.70

  • 71 This was repeated also later with interest in Theban graffiti, and, coincidentally or not, also wi (...)
  • 72 Studien und Materialien zum Rechtswesen des Pharaonenreiches der Dynastien XVIII-XXI (c. 1500-1000 (...)
  • 73 Arbeiter und Arbeiterbewegung im Pharaonenreich unter den Ramessiden (ca. 1400–1100 v. Chr.): Eine (...)
  • 74 Zwei Beiträge zur Geschichte und Topographie der thebanischen Necropolis im Neuen Reich: I. Der Gr (...)

34The second part of the work consisted of a translation and partial transliteration and commentary on select texts from papyri Abbott, Amherst, Harris 10053, 10054, Mayer A and B, Wien 30, and select texts from Turin. The texts were the backbone of his dissertation, quoted extensively as well as enclosed in translation. Existing publications were used as a starting point and elaborated. The overall presentation—a handwritten dissertation, with a narrative part and editions, but also with extensive quotes from Egyptian texts also in the narrative body—was again very much in style used by Spiegelberg. Černý’s work followed Spiegelberg relatively closely, both where the community and the legal and administrative studies were concerned.71 A more detailed look at the publications referred to in the Černý dissertation indicates that the publications of the Strasbourg Egyptologist had a formative role in research topic, but also research paradigm choices of Černý. Preceding studies of Spiegelberg that were influencing Černý (and appeared in his list of references) included Spiegelberg 1892,72 189573 and 1898.74

  • 75 Spiegelberg repeated his recognition of Awad’s input in his later publication on Theban graffiti, (...)
  • 76 Spiegelberg 1895 and Spiegelberg 1898.

35Spiegelberg studies were always localised and the 1898 study also includes a reference to local knowledge of Idris Awad, a modern West Theban, who was instrumental for Spiegelberg’s work in the area.75 A proposal for a well-rounded approach to the ancient necropolis, including as a living community of workers and administrators, was at the core of the second study. It gave an outline of materials considered relevant, with an emphasis on papyri in the Turin and British Museum collections. Spiegelberg also proposed to begin a complex study of the community of workmen, at that point understood as encompassing Western Thebes, with an analysis of their administration and with collection of available written resources. Graffiti were indicated as a resource with further potential, and also the ability to evocate a presence of ancient people, stopping and sitting down at the same locations in shade that invited their modern follower to take a break, and leaving their signatures. Both ostraca and graffiti were deemed of interest for further study of hieratic palaeography. Spiegelberg expected the settlement of workmen to be nearby, but had not proposed any identification at this point. Furthermore, Spiegelberg noted evidence offered by ostraca, also in terms of artwork, or what he considered to be preparatory phases for artwork. An interest in toponyms and their identification with extant location in the West Theban region was also articulated. In place of conclusion of his 1898 work, Spiegelberg also proposed an outline of work he considered as necessary for an advancement of study of the Theban necropolis—collection of all available ostraca and papyri, and all written material from the area, emphasizing again the importance of the Turin collection. However, Spiegelberg suggested a complete research programme of systematic mapping of sites and museum collections in search for West Theban material, following the categories of graffiti (where relevant), ostraca, papyri and other inscribed objects. Spiegelberg assumed that the task was not to be expected to be undertaken by a single person, and exhorted his colleagues to take part in the endeavour.76 It was a problem-oriented target—a social history of the Theban necropolis communities—applying a source-oriented method at its first step.

  • 77 Černý Mss. 17 in the present Černý Collection in the Griffith Institute Archive, University of Oxf (...)

36The 1898 publication, over twenty years old at the time of Černý’s dissertation, appears to be of particular interest for Černý’s formation of research goals, for several reasons—first, the idea of a “Gesamtarbeit” on the Theban necropolis resonated with intentions of Černý as outlined in the dissertation, second, the emphasis on a topographical study informed his introductory chapter, and third, the outline of further study as proposed by Spiegelberg was taken over and continued by Černý on a larger scale. The idea of collecting Theban written sources systematically, arranged in specific categories, was also taken over from Spiegelberg and developed into a system of indexed mini-volumes—“notebooks.”77 The first attested notebook originated only after the dissertation that used Spiegelberg’s publications had been finished. It would appear that in several respects, although he was not Spiegelberg’s pupil formally, Černý was indebted to research guidelines set by Spiegelberg, who, however, did not continue his Theban engagement, and focused further on Demotic studies. His book on graffiti—another mainstay of Černý’s early research—was however published only in 1921, although the researches dated mainly to 1890s, when Spiegelberg worked in Western Thebes alongside Percy E. Newberry.

  • 78 Peet 1920.
  • 79 Erman 1910, pp. 330–347, and Erman 1911, pp. 1086–1110.

37Another suspect influencer might have been Thomas E. Peet—Černý referred to his 1920 publication of the papyri Mayer A & B, but not to the earlier tomb robberies studies in 1915. The papyri Mayer publication gave due attention also to the material description of the papyri—a practice Černý later adopted comprehensively for his own publications. The Mayer papyri publication also described an advanced facsimile technique using photography, which resembled the “Chicago” method, i.e. inking a photograph, dissolving the photograph background and collating with the original.78 Eventually, Adolphe Erman, with whom Černý was in personal contact when visiting Berlin, published a number of West Theban material in 1910 and 1911,79 and also ostraca.

38Černý was thus drawing on a broader collection of categories of West Theban documents, as recommended by Spiegelberg, but did so selectively for the purposes of the dissertation. Work with original artefacts was not yet extensively reflected by Černý, as he depended largely on publications and records by other Egyptologists. Peet’s and Erman’s impact at that point might have been therefore more in terms of attention to detail in text studies, and as a material for Černý’s own training in Ramesside administrative hieratic.

39Černý had a viva voce examination in Oriental studies in June 1922 and in Philosophy (a separate exam) in December 1922. The dissertation was defended successfully, being examined by Alois Musil and Bedřich Hrozný, who both knew Černý as their student. Hrozný and Musil, Hittitologist and Arabist, were generally favourable, although Musil, a man of exacting opinions, noted fastidiously that the dissertation was more a matter of a promise than a finished work. Nonetheless, he appreciated the philological endeavours, and hypotheses Černý presented on the life in an ancient Egyptian city—for the workmen were still defined largely as active in Western Thebes in general.

  • 80 Cf. Černý 1949, pp. v–vii. The idea of a comprehensive collection of hieroglyphic texts from the s (...)

40After the dissertation, Černý’s further contact with Egyptian inscribed artefacts came via visits to the European museums with Egyptian collections (and to one museum in particular, Turin) that became more frequent. He had no academic position and continued to make his living as a bank clerk. It was in this period when he probably begun his system of notebooks with collected texts that he identified as related to Western Thebes. He commenced both with hieroglyphic texts, later to develop into the Répertoire onomastique,80 and with hieratic material. It was later specified in the Répertoire that the hieroglyphic material was focused on names, affiliations and larger genealogies of the workmen, and it was not meant to be a comprehensive edition of all hieroglyphic texts from the site, but the initial impetus was quite broad. The “means to an end” character of collections of texts was repeatedly emphasized in the later Répertoire preface, and it had probably stemmed from these early considerations.

41Černý’s first collections were made from published resources, then came museum travels. Objects related to s.t mȝʿ.t, and r became of major interest. He was soon thereafter focusing on the collection in Turin, with finds from the Schiaparelli expedition. His full-fledged first study visit to Turin is attested in 1923.

  • 81 Repeatedly shown in correspondence with F. Lexa in the 1923–1925 period, Archive of the Academy of (...)
  • 82 Peet 1924
  • 83 Peet 1926.

42Whilst his study was opened as problem-oriented, namely on social and economic history, his further work was source-oriented, as recommended by Spiegelberg two decades earlier. He was developing his skills in reading hieratic script and was soon confident in his ostraca work at Turin.81 This specialisation has put Černý in the orbit of text editing close to Gardiner, and Peet. That his professional self-confidence was not entirely inappropriate, is shown in a comment by another acquaintance met in Turin—Thomas E. Peet. Peet was the editor of several papyri of significant interest, and came to trust Černý with transcriptions. At first, Peet was assessing carefully, “But I think he is a good transcriber, how far he can interpret and how much grammar he knows I can’t say…”82 in September 1924. Gradually, it became a more enthusiastic assessment, culminating in “He is a much quicker and more brilliant decipherer that I am or ever shall be” in October 1926.83

  • 84 Černý, Peet 1927.
  • 85 Peet 1930, p. vii.

43At a still later stage they co-authored a publication in 1927,84 and in the “Tomb Robberies” of 1930 Peet offered a fulsome praise: “Dr. Jaroslav Černý has shown that generous courtesy which we have all learnt to expect from him in giving me references from his vast collection of ostraca-texts from Cairo and elsewhere, and I have without acknowledgement adopted many an idea born in conversations with him in the museums and restaurants of Cairo and Turin.”85 The beginning of both the ostraca collection and Černý’s participation at the international Egyptological “invisible college” must be thus sought in the time just after his dissertation.

44Editing texts or text corpora was technically but a preparatory phase of a larger synthesis, whose promise was shown in the dissertation. In retrospect it is easy to observe that the synthesis was never finished, and its publishable parts appeared only posthumously, and with limitations. In the early 1920s there was still a plan, fostered by outline by Spiegelberg, and centred largely on the Turin museum and its objects and texts, where Černý identified a potential for his study and found also allies in Botti and Peet. Černý was also not a linguist, but rather a practical user of philology and epigraphy as means to an end—gaining access to resources he considered crucial for historical research. The concept of collecting and editing original texts as a necessary prerequisite of further interpretive steps was shared across the Oriental studies.

  • 86 Bruyère 1924.

45Regarding his further fashioning as a professional scholar, Černý did not publish his dissertation, possibly aware of its preliminary character that allowed him to pass into a fully qualified state as a prospective academic (after all, he was not employed by the university but by a bank), but it was not really a scholarly publication he had aspired to. Toward 1924 he was developing his transcribing skills, collecting resources and trying to make ends meet. Whether he read early Bruyère’s reports on Deir el-Medina, is a moot point, as the earliest report was dated to 1924.86

  • 87 Adams 1997, pp. 25–32.
  • 88 Foucart 1919, published in a French and an English version.
  • 89 Winlock 1926.
  • 90 Burke 2015, chapter 2.

46Apart from a plan of study inspired with all likelihood by Spiegelberg, Černý’s idea of social and economic history operated also with contextualizing an organised community in a geographical location; that is in a historical, or anthropological context. Intellectual impetus for this approach is interesting to gauge. It coincides with anthropological/historical tendencies in Egyptology, still lively in the 1920s.87 Georges Foucart, then director of the IFAO, published his Questionnaire préliminaire d’ethnologie africaine in 1919,88 and shortly thereafter, Herbert E. Winlock published Monastery of Epiphanius at Thebes in 1926,89 which shared the attention to detail with Bruyère’s Deir el-Medina records, but had the advantage of presenting a discrete site with a concluded excavation phase, whereas Bruyère had to follow season by season. It is not known whether Černý knew (of) Foucart’s work before meeting the man himself in winter 1925, or whether he was in any connection with the beginning Annales school of historians, although he shared a training in sociology with some of its protagonists.90

  • 91 A note to that effect was added to his baptism record in Pilsen baptism register from 1898, Archiv (...)
  • 92 In his 1921 to 1924 letters to Lexa and to Prášek. Archive of the Academy of Sciences, Prague (AAV (...)
  • 93 Černý 1919.

47So far, we have followed Černý as an evolving scholar, largely within his subject matter. What was his personal reflection of the context he lived and worked in, and was there his public persona? In 1921, he formally left the Catholic Church,91 as a number of his fellow citizens did after the Czechoslovak declaration of independence, and preferred to identify as without any religious allegiance. However, in his correspondence, a chief ego-document available, he also preferred to be generally reticent on his private thoughts. Given his visits to Berlin and Turin in the 1920s, one might consider, whether he was receptive to period complexities of German and Italian politics, or if he reacted, in view of his British friendships, to the reserved position of Britain to his home country. There is no surviving evidence to that effect in the 1920s (only later letters will contain hints on political allegiances of e.g. Giulio Farina), and his letters from the period indicate a focused interest in his study, his travels, and, for a short period, his fiancée.92 There was either a selective attention, or a selective articulation in an otherwise chiefly professionally oriented correspondence. His public persona was predominantly a professional one. An intriguing glimpse on a flexible, perhaps compartmentalised, professional presentation is shown when he was applying for the bank job already in 1919, where his presentation was entirely that of an enthusiastic applicant for a bank position.93

48Eventually, there is one area in which Černý’s training, attitudes and level of knowledge remain largely an unknown up until he actually arrived to Egypt, and that was contemporary Egypt. He had studied Standard Arabic with Musil; however, his exposure to Colloquial Arabic, or modern/contemporary history of Egypt is a completely unresolved point up until 1925. In this respect, he would have been no exception among a number of Egyptologists of his generation, albeit his situation later changed. Also, corresponding to his silence on European politics, which in the early 1920s was certainly far from docile, Černý might have been first of all fashioning himself as a scholar, with enough burden of being a part-time one. Alternatively, if he had political opinions and articulated observations on contemporary social world, he must have been keeping them in a parallel universe—as he also largely did with matters of his private life. This model was certainly applied further in later life, although under markedly different circumstances. At a risk of confusing the narrative, it may be added that he was later in an increasing contact with Egyptian Egyptologists (indeed it became a characteristic element in his latter career), learned colloquial Arabic, acted as a guide to students from the Cairo University, and eventually worked with several Egyptian scholars. Regarding modern Egypt, he was reactive, not proactive, but given his existing time constraints in his early career, this is hardly a surprise.

49In 1924/1925 he was coming close to building a growing body of Deir el-Medina related transcriptions and other data concerning inscribed artefacts, but was still an academic without an academic post, and without a financial backing allowing for travel to Egypt to confront his ideas with archaeological sites and the Egyptian landscape. In the summer of 1924, he used his annual leave to visit the Egyptian Museum in Turin again. This was another opportunity to meet Giuseppe Botti, but also his British acquaintance, Thomas E. Peet. These were early days of Černý’s reputation, but Peet and Gardiner were to prove instrumental in the network that helped to provide feedback and opportunities from the 1930s to the 1950s. There was a growing network of Egyptologists who knew him, or of him, but these connections alone would not move him closer to fieldwork, being largely among British and Italian Egyptologists.

The Physical Journey

50Jaroslav Černý’s road to the Institut français d’archéologie orientale (IFAO) and hence to Deir el-Medina went only in part via a development of his research concept, and, rather importantly, via diplomatic couloirs. Progress of what was to become Czechoslovak Egyptology was in close connection to a Czechoslovak interest in the Levant and the Middle East, promoted both by Orientalists and politicians of the newly instated Czechoslovak republic.

  • 94 A biography of Botti is available: Botti 2011, referring to his friendship with Černý on several o (...)
  • 95 Dušek’s mission analysed by Jůnová Macková (ed.) 2014.
  • 96 See also Hagen, Ryholt 2016.
  • 97 There is a possibility that the villa was actually within the then suburb of Garden City, as it ha (...)
  • 98 About the building also Chassinat 1909.

51During 1923, the Czechoslovak envoy in Cairo, Cyrill Dušek, presented his agrément to King Fuad I,94 after several months of uncertainty. The formation of the Czechoslovak legation in Egypt had been a tour de force. Dušek arrived to Cairo in January 1922, on the eve of Egypt’s renegotiation of its relationship with the United Kingdom. He was a representative of a state not yet four years old, had no clear assignment, and had been, in fact, sent out on a makeshift mission, to be detailed during his Egyptian sojourn. He had practically no budget, and consequently, for a long time, no legation to run. It had not even been specified at first whether a full-fledged legation would be the desired result; Dušek might have ended as a consul general. His argumentation convinced his Prague superiors eventually, at the cost of several months of haggling, and Dušek became a minister plenipotentiary, accredited at the Egyptian Court.95 Among his tasks, he included—probably because of his own interest (he was a collector of Egyptian antiquities and an acquaintance, and indeed for a time employer of Grigoriy Loukianoff96) as well as in the name of state representation—a possibility to build an Egyptological link. In context of a general orientation of Czechoslovak diplomacy on allegiances with France, Dušek’s choice understandably fell on the IFAO, which was also in proximity of the legation villa, located close97 to the boulevard of Qasr el-Aini running through a prestigious district of residences of the royal family and embassies, south of the Khedive Ismail Square (the present Tahrir Square). The Institute was housed in another former royal home in the district of Mounira.98

  • 99 Hurban 1924a.

52However, in January 1924, Dušek died, leaving a number of diplomatic tasks unfinished. His IFAO negotiation, nonetheless, was already at a relatively advanced stage, and his successor, chargé d’affaires Vladimir S. Hurban, who arrived from Prague in February 1924, continued in the negotiations within several weeks of his arrival. In April 1924, Hurban sent the following letter to the Director of the IFAO, Georges Foucart:99

Monsieur le Directeur,
J’ai l’honneur de m’adresser à vous, Monsieur le Directeur, avec prière de vouloir bien me prêter votre gracieux concours indispensable pour la bonne fin de l’affaire suivante :
Déjà mon prédécesseur feu le Ministre Dr. C. Dušek s’efforçait d’obtenir des places dans l’Institut se trouvant sous votre direction pour les membres de notre Nation qui ont voué leurs talents à l’étude de la culture de l’Ancienne Égypte. Sa mort a interrompu les pourparlers.
Aujourd’hui je viens de recevoir une lettre émanant de l’Université de Charles de Prague dans laquelle on m’informe qu’un séminaire égyptologique vient d’être créé et on me demande de m’adresser à M. P. Lacau pour obtenir son concours à l’occasion de l’achat des objets provenant des collections gouvernementales.
Tout cela prouve que l’intérêt pour l’Égyptologie fait des progrès en Tchécoslovaquie et les études seraient certainement stimulées s’il était possible à nos égyptologues de développer leurs connaissances sur la place et dans le sein de l’Institut Français si riche en traditions glorieuses et scientifiques. Un des principaux obstacles aux études fructueuses est le fait que les subsides pouvant être accordés par le Gouvernement sont restreints et que les étudiants en question ne disposent non plus de grands moyens. C’est pour cette raison que je m’adresse à vous, Monsieur le Directeur, et par votre intermédiaire au Gouvernement Français avec prière de me communiquer les conditions dans lesquelles il serait possible à deux égyptologues ou étudiants au maximum de participer en entier ou partiellement aux avantages offerts par l’Institut Français d’Archéologie Orientale dans la prochaine saison.
Veuillez agréer, Monsieur le Directeur, les assurances de ma haute considération. Le Chargé d’Affaires, Signé Valdimir (sic) S. Hurban.

  • 100 Hurban 1924b.

53Foucart replied with the next few days, with an equally diplomatic repertoire of arguments:100

Monsieur le Chargé d’Affaires,
J’ai l’honneur de vous accuser réception de votre très honorée lettre en date du 8 courant.
J’ai transmis de suite à mon Département les demandes de renseignements dont vous avez bien voulu me saisir.
De mon côté, je me suis efforcé, sans plus tarder, d’étudier sur pace les solutions destinées à amener un accord complet que je serais extrêmement heureux de voir réaliser aussitôt que possible. Toutefois, désireux d’être à même de vous fournir des renseignements détaillés, je solliciterai de votre bienveillance un délai de quelques jours, me mettant à même de vous présenter tous les éléments techniques de la question.
Vous voudrez bien ne considérer ceci que comme un simple accusé de réception confirmant celui que j’ai eu l’honneur de vous accuser tout dernièrement de vive voix.
J’ajoute que, dans toute la mesure du possible, je ferai ressortir, auprès de mon Département, le haut intérêt qu’il y aurait pour nous à pouvoir contribuer au progrès de l’Égyptologie et des Sciences Orientalistes en Tchécoslovaquie, ainsi qu’à affirmer pour notre part, à cette occasion, les liens d’amitié qui unissent nos deux pays.
Veuillez agréer, je vous prie, Monsieur le Chargé d’Affaires, toute l’expression de mes sentiments les plus distingués et dévoués,
Le Directeur d’Institut, G. Foucart

  • 101 See further Navratilova forthcoming.

54This was an opening salvo of an exchange of letters among the Czechoslovak legation, the IFAO, the Ministry of Education in Paris, and the Czechoslovak legation in Paris, that was also involved. It is of interest to note that there were two members of the Slovak elite of Czechoslovakia involved—Hurban in Cairo and Štefan Osuský in Paris.101

  • 102 Foucart 1925.

55Foucart took his time to consider the practicalities of the proposed idea of accepting up to two Czechoslovak scholars. The matter was largely influenced by practical considerations; whereas from any other point of view—such as interests of France, scholarly, cultural and moral, as he saw it, there was every reason to support the project, the material, financial side of things proved rather difficult.102

56Foucart assessed the financial situation of the IFAO and suggested that the Institute was at the present moment not in position to offer full sustenance to further personnel. Another issue was the question of lodgings, with spaces in the Institute occupied by the administration. If the numbers of administrative personnel were to be reduced there would be an immediate opening for attachés étrangers. Another proposition consisted of building dedicated lodgings for such foreign guests, as it already was the case in a similar institution in Athens. In the present situation, Foucart could offer the positions and lodgings if there was a material support from other resources. And on that condition the IFAO could also offer full scientific support—access to the library, to the laboratories, publishing opportunities and training in state of the art archaeological work.

  • 103 On Creswell, see Hamilton 1974, and Grabar (ed.) 1991.

57In this regime, other attachés, including K.A.C. Creswell (1879–1974), an eminent scholar studying Arabic architecture,103 had, in Foucart’s opinion, prospered at the IFAO, and the model could be repeated successfully with the Czechoslovaks, on the condition that the prospective attachés would be already qualified professionals, having necessary philological and historical training. The sojourn of the attachés was planned for seven months, with their time divided between studies in the Institute, field season, and travels in Egypt. Chargé d’affaires Hurban was pleased with the results, and, as will be seen shortly, dedicated some effort to an implementation of the plan.

  • 104 Reid 2015, pp. 84–86. F. Lexa hoped that Hurban might suceed with Lacau in obtaining artefacts for (...)
  • 105 Cf. Steiner 2007, pp. 289–298.
  • 106 Cf. Reid 1985 and Reid 1997.
  • 107 On its history and development, cf. Reid 2002.

58Why the IFAO in Egypt that necessitated such continued investment of effort by a Czechoslovak diplomat? Regarding the institution, the IFAO was a French establishment, considered with good reason a powerhouse of scholarship, field work and solid scholarly publishing, issues that were lacking in fledgling Czechoslovak Egyptology at the Charles University in Prague that had one professor, a seminar-to-be, several students, no collection, next to no library, and limited resources. In addition, there was the element of a French control in the Egyptian Antiquities Service, although the Czechoslovaks apparently did not appreciate the fact that the respective institutional heads, Pierre Lacau and Georges Foucart, were not on good speaking terms.104 Furthermore, France was by 1924 the chief and strongest Western ally of Czechoslovakia, surpassing and somewhat alienating Britain in the process.105 The Czechoslovak leaning toward France therefore had a role as well, alongside a perceived French dominance in the administration of Egyptian antiquities. Czechoslovakia would have wished to join the Egyptological game alongside a powerful ally. From the Czechoslovak diplomatic perspective, there was no Egyptian Egyptologist or Egyptological institution that would have offered comparable advantages. It was symptomatic of the period,106 but a pragmatic choice. The Cairo University was established in 1908,107 but by 1924 it did not have a comparable opportunity to offer to a foreign scholar who was not coming as an appointed professor, but in a slightly precarious position of a sponsored independent researcher, and whose interest leant toward fieldwork in Egypt. Moreover, the Egyptians were working hard toward establishing their own position in fieldwork and understandably would have had limited motivation to help another foreigner at that point.

  • 108 See Jůnová Macková 2009b.
  • 109 A. Musil formulated an outline in Naše úkoly v orientalistice a v Orientě, Praha 1920 (Musil 1920) (...)
  • 110 See also Jůnová Macková 2009a, pp. 111–127.

59However, it does not follow that Egypt was not an important element in the equation. The attention paid to developing ties with Egypt at the highest level of Czechoslovak political life (Masaryk visited Egypt shortly thereafter in 1927108) was based on a more general trade and political interest in Northern Africa and West Asia (subsumed under “Orient” in period vocabulary), which, after all translated into the plans of the Oriental Institute, technically founded in 1922. The Institute was a brainchild of several people, one of them Alois Musil, and Musil promoted ties with Western Asia and Northern Africa as an opportunity for trade and partnership, including potential advantage Czechoslovakia could draw from its position of not being a colonial power.109 The latter position does not mean that Czechoslovakia was not willing to accept a good standing in trade and economic relationships, alongside colonial powers, if she could get it—both ministers, Dušek and Hurban, were involved in a capitulations negotiation, for instance.110

  • 111 See Musil 1926a and b, 1927, 1928a, 1928b, all of the above published in New York by the American (...)
  • 112 Orzoff 2009, pp. 69–76.

60Masaryk did accept Musil as an informal adviser (the former allegiance of Musil to the Habsburg court and personal friendship with the last Emperor were not an impediment), and provided an energetic support for a breakthrough of Musil’s publications in English.111 Trade and research interests were also mingled with another aspect of politics—cultural diplomacy. Masaryk’s idea of the new republic included its self-fashioning as a cultured and democratic state, open to new diplomatic ties. It provided an idealised picture of Czechoslovakia that as a new player in international politics needed to boost its reputation.112 The ideal portrait was an aspiration that, however, inspired loyalty.

  • 113 Hrdlička 2009, pp. 29–44.

61In the Masaryk circle there was also a sustained interest in history and in promoting humanities. This was also the rationale behind a number of academics in diplomatic posts in the early years of the republic, and it operated also vice versa—academics were useful to the diplomacy.113 And even outside strictly diplomatic circles, capable Czechoslovaks, if available, were taken for good informal envoys of the state. Hence, Masaryk’s own academic training and respect for humanities were joined by political pragmatism in choices of his diplomatic tools. The interest in the region, a French connection, and the element of cultural diplomacy could be well served by a qualified Czechoslovak Egyptologist in Egypt, accepted at a major institution such as the IFAO. Naturally, he would have been a lesser component in the plan, but a logical one. Consequently, when Hurban presented the IFAO opportunity, probably in summer 1925, Masaryk also had contacts that were in position to supply him with human resources fit for the purpose.

  • 114 AAVCR, Fonds Lexa, call no. IIB, rec. no. 305. Original in Czech.

62Masaryk counted František Lexa among his own pupils. Lexa was already promoted to an extraordinary professor of Egyptology at the Czech University in Prague in 1922 and was aiming at establishment of a seminar for Egyptology. He was aware of constraints imposed on one of his own students, Jaroslav Černý, in his non-academic bank job. Here the research plans of Černý converged with diplomatic considerations. In July 1925, the Czechoslovak Department for Schools and National Education sent an official letter to Professor Lexa:114

Department for Schools and National Education
rec. no. 80.521/25-V
Cairo – Institut Français d’Archéologie Orientale – scholarships for Czechoslovak Egyptologists
Prague, July 13, 1925 [a typing error, should be July 31, see below]
The office of the Dean
of the Faculty of Arts, Charles University in Prague

The deceased minister Cyril (sic) Dušek took during his official mission in Cairo a substantial interest in securing scholarships for two Czechoslovak researchers at the Institut Français d’Archéologie Orientale in Cairo. Negotiations he led to that effect achieved definite results—the Institute may make provisions available, of which we shall name the following:
1/ Schooling in archaeological work with participation at excavations led by experienced specialists.
2/ Use of the Institute’s tools, machinery, camping gear, etc.
3/ Access to library and collections when in residence in Cairo.
4/ Participation in the Institute’s publication programme, to be defined. The printing costs of Memoirs to be covered by the Czechoslovak side.
5/ Training in modern archaeological methods by experienced research personnel.
6/ In general, a research and administrative support, provided by the Institute, as concerns communication with Egyptian officials, mediation of studies, travel and contact with local scholarly associations.
The Attachés would have to provide for themselves in terms of accommodation and per diem expenses. The Attachés are also expected to have adequate scholarly qualifications, verified by appropriate authorities.
The Office of the Director of the Institute would like to stress particularly, that candidates for the positions must have adequate knowledge in history and philology, obtained as part of a university degree. The Institute cannot provide personnel to teach them.
The new Attachés would be expected to stay in Egypt for at least 7 months, eight if possible, compatibly with their French colleagues. The stay would be divided as follows: 3 months at the excavations or cooperating closely with the Institute’s personnel. The remaining time would be spent in Cairo or travelling in Lower Egypt when and as requested by the Director of the Institute. The basic expenditure for Cairo is LEG 15 to 20. The Department of Schools and National Education requires comments concerning this offer by a committee of professors and adds that at present it is not possible to cover the expenses of said study sojourns in Cairo.

On behalf of the Minister
Prague, July 31, 1925
To: Prof. Dr. F. Lexa
For his kind attention
Smetánka (handwritten signature)
The Dean

  • 115 Jůnová Macková (ed.) 2014, p. 92 and 244.

63The document followed closely the scheme agreed between Foucart and Hurban. This was a positive result—and neither Lexa nor Hurban intended to lose much time. Once the summer recess was over, they sprang into action. Hurban was delayed by his own health problems—in September/October 1925 he was hospitalised in a pulmonary diseases sanatorium in Praha-Podolí, where he followed in the footsteps of his predecessor Dušek. Incidentally, the Egyptian posting, apart from demanding a capable diplomat, was preferentially given to civil servants with pulmonary diseases, to such an extent that the previous diplomatic wife, Pavla Dušková, remarked the legation resembled a small sanatorium.115

  • 116 Navratilova forthcoming.

64Lexa was in contact with Hurban and with Přemysl Šámal, the head of the President’s Office. Šámal, in turn, was in a good position to support Černý, being befriended with Černý’s ultimate superior—the Director General of Živnobanka, Jaroslav Preiss. Preiss was building his good standing with Šámal and vice versa over a number of years. They knew each other from the Maffia political association during the Great War. And their contact was social as well as professional, as Šámal was among guests at Preiss’ hunting parties. Šámal was therefore altogether instrumental in the following negotiations116 and on 26 October 1925, Lexa and Černý visited Šámal officially at the Prague Castle. At that point Černý knew the conditions of his IFAO contract—and the opportunity for a several months’ long stay in Egypt it gave him. The unspoken target of his visit was probably already defined—Deir el-Medina, where IFAO took over German excavations in 1917, and by 1925 had had several successful seasons.

  • 117 Černý 1926a.

65The finalisation of what initially looked like a lengthy marathon of negotiations took surprisingly little time. Černý then took a very quick leave of his family—his travel preparations transpire only from a later letter117 and were probably a little hurried. For instance, he borrowed his brother’s riding breeches, instead of ordering and purchasing his own clothing. Whether he had a Baedeker or another guide, remains unknown. Although he probably knew about the plan hatching since summer, the conclusion was unpredictably swift, and he had to react on a short notice, abandoning all previous routines of a bank life, or a Christmas with his parents. Although he was no newcomer to travelling, this was travelling on a rather larger scale, and a new way of life, including also months on end living, working and thinking within a different language set-up.

  • 118 AKPR, File J. Černý, and report from Jan. 1926.
  • 119 Černý 1926c. Translation quoted after Růžová 2010, p. 203.

66Clearly, he took the opportunity and considered himself up to the task. Apart from an expected Egyptological workload, he was also provided with some information brochures about Czechoslovakia, to distribute as appropriate, which he eventually did, according to a later report.118 Likewise, in communication with Lexa, he was not averse to promote his patriotic status—“I am glad not to bring shame on the Czech name.”119

  • 120 Cf. Evans 2007, pp. 1–11.

67At the beginning of his career, we see him therefore as a young man in the early years of what was—not without reason—believed to be a successful attempt at a democratic country,120 Czechoslovakia, which he was not unwilling to promote. However, his idea of promoting a nation was not based on a chauvinist exclusivity, but rather on a positive contribution. He also did not articulate regular comments on other people that would be related to their nationality.

  • 121 Pleyte, Rossi 1869–1876.
  • 122 And reported details to Lexa: Černý 1926b.
  • 123 The sea journey figures prominently in family letters of Pavla Dušková, for instance, Jůnová Macko (...)
  • 124 Černý 1926b.
  • 125 Černý 1925.

68His loyalty to the state was at this point probably undoubted (as much was he was engaged in any political thinking at all), but his focus was and remained professional. He was on his way to Turin within the next few days, and his reports back to Prague were glowing. In Turin, another cordial meeting with Botti opened a helpful sojourn in the Museo Egizio. Botti offered Černý further fragments of papyri Černý could join to published plates in the edition by Pleyte and Rossi: “Pl. & R.121 94 & 95 & Pl. & R. 61, col. I.” Further finds in the museum magazine included a papyrus Turin concerned with the Libyan raid. Černý also kept collating and expanding his earlier readings of the ostraca in Turin.122 Ernesto Schiaparelli was friendly and offered Černý access to further ostraca found in the Valley of the Queens. From Turin, Černý sped to Florence, stopping in the museum and collating further ostraca, including those edited by Erman, and then finally to Brindisi, to catch his ship that was en route from Trieste to Alexandria. He recuperated shortly in Brindisi and continued on one of the ships of Lloyd Triestino to Egypt. Unlike his predecessors and contemporaries123 Černý was not keen on relating his seafaring experience—at least not to Lexa—apart from a laconic “I had obtained no discount on the ship fare.”124 Černý was met and greeted in Alexandria, as the Czechoslovak institutions in Egypt knew about him. He went on to Cairo, and arrived to the Egyptian capital in mid-November 1925.125

69The Czechoslovak citizen arrived to a very cosmopolitan, yet also divided city. Cairo was run with a blend of Egyptian and colonial administration, showed Art Nouveau and Art Deco buildings on a grand scale, as well as the traditional haras, quarters consisting of a system of blind alleys, in the old quarters beneath the Citadel. Černý’s host, the Institut français d’archéologie orientale was, as abovesaid, located in an area known as the Mounira, close to the Egyptian Museum and the fashionable street of Qasr el-Aini. Since 1907, it resided in a former palace built in historising and Art Nouveau style and located in its own garden grounds. Around it, new apartment blocks were sprouting and soon encased Qasr el-Aini, which looked in parts like any other late 19th century boulevard in Paris or Vienna, or indeed Prague. Beyond it, toward the Nile, lay Garden City, a quarter of luxurious villas and increasingly numerous new art deco buildings. It was a largely Westernised part of Cairo, preferred by upper and middle class Egyptians and foreigners.

  • 126 Archive of the Academy of Sciences, Prague, Fonds Lexa, box 2, inv. no. 69, correspondence Lexa–Če (...)

70At first Černý focused his correspondence on Egyptology—from his point of view the main reason why he was there—and on a demonstration of widening social circles he was moving in, and that in these first weeks included mainly Western Egyptologists and other expatriates, to whom he had been recommended. That was soon to change in view of his forthcoming fieldwork season, but his first impression of Egypt was that of the monuments and excavations close to Cairo, and of the modern parts of Cairo.126 He was evidently not yet in a position to reflect on the complex of tensions that surrounded Egyptology and the Western presence in Egypt, being just taken in a new world, both physically and intellectually. In December 1925, after a brief sojourn at the Czechoslovak legation, located in Garden City, on the other side of Qasr el-Aini, Jaroslav Černý came for the first time to stay at the IFAO, at that point as an attaché à titre étranger, paying, so to speak, his own way, but accepted as a member of the Deir el-Medina team (fig. 3), to depart for Upper Egypt before the end of the year.

Fig. 3. A photo taken at Western Thebes on 15 March 1927, from left Jaroslav Černý, Georges Foucart, Yugoslavian diplomat Dušič, Madame Chevrier, Bernard Bruyère, and Jacques Jean Clère, photographed by Henri Chevrier.

Fig. 3. A photo taken at Western Thebes on 15 March 1927, from left Jaroslav Černý, Georges Foucart, Yugoslavian diplomat Dušič, Madame Chevrier, Bernard Bruyère, and Jacques Jean Clère, photographed by Henri Chevrier.

© The Griffith Institute Archive, University of Oxford, Collection Clère, Clère Mss. 27.15.2.1.01.

  • 127 Cf the issues of Egyptian modernity, Ryzova 2014.
  • 128 See Chassinat 1909, and personal communications from Nadine Cherpion, Bianca Madden, and Cédric La (...)

71The grounds of the IFAO were not purpose-built for an academic institution, but were adapted and later rebuilt with much flair by the Institute’s directors. The architectural tradition of the Institute’s building is European, similar to many products of nineteenth century architecture in Cairo and featuring elements of Classicism, and Art Nouveau. These influences were espoused by both the Westerners and Egyptians of a certain social class and cultural register, hence do not operate solely as witnesses of an imperialist imposition.127 It is an intriguing setting to history of Egyptology, and may claim a status of lieu de mémoire of the discipline, with its controversies, successes and downsides, in its own right. The building combined several architectural fashions—at the time of Černý’s arrival it was a predominantly Art Nouveau building with its grand hall modelled by an architect trained possibly by the Viennese Otto Wagner. Later on, in 1929, it was to assume a more neoclassical façade and possibly adjustments in the interior as well.128

  • 129 Foucart 1925.
  • 130 Term used by Reid 2015, p. 168.

72A significant phase of Černý’s physical journey was concluded when he entered the IFAO grounds, to join the institutional and intellectual life of the French organisation, but his intellectual journey was to take off on further stages, not least vis-à-vis the actual site of Deir el-Medina and both its ancient and modern inhabitants. His arrival was a result of the conjunction of an academic endeavour of Lexa and Černý himself, and a political endeavour of Masaryk’s diplomats, that were met with an openness on the French side, an openness motivated by a suitably complex reasoning, summed up by Georges Foucart—on the scholarly, cultural and moral grounds, as well as in the interest of France.129 In Foucart’s terms, it looked like a European game played out in Egypt. Placing the Czechoslovak Černý at the IFAO constructed two French-Czechoslovak connections at once—to the dominant French position in the Antiquities Service, and to a preferred ally of Czechoslovakia. Yet, a claim that Černý came to Egypt just as another element in a comprehensive strategy of Western dominance in Egypt, this time as a representative of a smaller European nation trying to inveigle itself among the existing contestants in a larger game of appropriation and adoperation of Egyptian cultural heritage, correspondingly embedded in a “transnational European imperialism,”130 would be but a repetition of sweeping narratives.

73First, if Foucart and Hurban were to convince French and Czechoslovak authorities, although they had a good reason to think there could be goodwill toward the project, they had to frame the matter on French and Czechoslovak terms. The issue of appeal to one’s sponsors could not have been underestimated. Second, Černý was no antagonist of the Masaryk’s republic and its aims, but above all he obviously valued his opportunity for work in Egypt as an important element in his training and development of an otherwise precarious Egyptological career. Second, it was an opening that went well beyond any opportunity accorded to his teacher Lexa, although Černý could not have foreseen how strong the research synergy with the IFAO team was going to be and what perspectives, including cooperation with Egyptians, it was ultimately to open. In November 1925, it must have been an overwhelming prospect, to transmute in a matter of days from an independent researcher, whose main social role was that of a bank clerk, to the attaché of the IFAO standing with his hastily packed suitcase in the grand hall of the Mounira palace, with the prospect of an upcoming field season with its steep learning curve ahead. Other, more complex insights were to evolve later.

  • 131 Černý 1925.

74In place of conclusion, let the 27-year-old protagonist speak for himself:131

After a long wandering, here I am, finally in Egypt, and I happen to like it very much. Naturally, I had to see the pyramids the day after arriving, and again yesterday, I almost climbed them. I have permanently this hazy sensation of meeting things that I know and yet do not know. For 18 years I have just read about it all, and now I am still struggling to accept that I have finally arrived to Egypt and this is real.

Haut de page

Bibliographie

Adams 1997
Adams, W.Y., “Anthropology and Egyptology: Divorce and Remarriage?”, in J. Lustig (ed.), Anthropology & Egyptology: A Developing Dialogue, MMArch 8, Sheffield, 1997, pp. 25–32.

Bednarski 2015
Bednarski, A., “The Nature and History of Egyptology”, in I. Shaw, E. Bloxam (eds.), The Oxford Handbook of Egyptology, 2015, online publication, http://www.oxfordhandbooks.com/view/10.1093/oxfordhb/9780199271870.001.0001/oxfordhb-9780199271870-e-2, accessed 3 June 2018.

Bierbrier (ed.) 2012
Bierbrier, M. (ed.), Who was Who in Egyptology, 4th ed., London, 2012.

Blaustein, Sigler, Beede (eds.) 1977
Blaustein, A.P., Sigler, J.A., Beede, B.R. (eds.), Independence Documents of the World, vol. 1, Dobbs Ferry, NY, 1977, pp. 204–205.

Boghossian 2006
Boghossian, P., Fear of Knowledge, Oxford, 2006.

Botti 2011
Botti, M., Dal monte Rosa alla Terra dei Faraoni. Giuseppe Botti, una vita per i papiri dell’Antico Egitto, Trento, 2011.

Boytner, Swartz Dood, Parker (eds.) 2010
Boytner, R., Swartz Dood, L., Parker, B.J. (eds.), Controlling the Past, Owning the Future: The Political Uses of Archaeology in the Middle East, Tucson, 2010.

Bruyère 1924
Bruyère, B., Rapport sur les fouilles de Deir El Médineh (1922-1923), FIFAO 1/1, Cairo, 1924.

Burke 2015
Burke, P., The French Historical Revolution: The Annales School, 1929–2014, Cambridge, 2015.

Černý s.a.
Griffith Institute Archive, Collection Černý, Černý Mss 5.89, notes for a lecture entitled “The Character of Ancient Egyptians”.

Černý 1919
Archive of the Czech National Bank, fonds Živnobanka, personal file J. Černý, application letter August 1919.

Černý 1922
Dissertation Život dělníků thébské nekropole v nové říši (1300–1000 př. Kr.), Archive of the Charles University in Prague, dissertations, no. 1148, 1922.

Černý 1925
Archive of the Academy of Sciences, Prague, fonds Lexa, correspondence Lexa–Černý, box 2, inv. no. 69, Černý to Lexa, 19.11.1925, postcard.

Černý 1926a
Archive of the Office of the President, Prague Castle (AKPR), file J. Černý, letter from Černý to his parents, January 1926.

Černý 1926b
Archive of the Academy of Sciences, Prague, fonds Lexa, correspondence Lexa–Černý, box 2, inv. no. 69, Černý to Lexa, 6.1.1926.

Černý 1926c
Archive of the Academy of Sciences, Prague, fonds Lexa, correspondence Lexa–Černý, box 2, inv. no. 69, Černý to Lexa, 3.3.1926.

Černý 1926–1928
Griffith Institute Archive, Collection Černý, notebook Černý Mss 17.59, 1926–1928.

Černý 1946
Archive of the Náprstek Museum, National Museum, Prague, collection J. Černý, lecture by J. Černý, Prof. František Lexa, presented on 3 April 1946 at the Oriental Institute, Prague, 1946.

Černý 1949
Černý, J., Répertoire onomastique de Deir el-Médineh, Cairo, 1949.

Černý, Peet 1927
Černý, J., Peet, T.E., “A Marriage Settlement of the Twentieth Dynasty: An Unpublished Document from Turin”, JEA 13, 1927, pp. 30–39.

Certeau 1975
de Certeau, M., L’écriture de l’histoire, Paris, 1975.

Certeau 1992
de Certeau, M., The Writing of History, New York, 1992.

Chassinat 1909
Chassinat, É., L’Institut français d'archéologie orientale du Caire, 1880-1909, Cairo, 1909.

Cubitt 2007
Cubitt, G., History and Memory, Manchester, 2007.

Desroches Noblecourt 1992
Desroches Noblecourt, C., La Grande Nubiade ou Le parcours d’une égyptologue, Paris, 1992.

Edwards 1972
Edwards, I.E.S., “Jaroslav Černý: 1898–1970”, PBA 58, 1972, pp. 367–380.

Engelbach 1924
Engelbach, R., A Supplement to the Topographical Catalogue of the Private Tombs of Thebes (Nos 253 to 334) with Some Notes on the Necropolis from 1913 to 1924, Cairo, 1924.

Erll, Nünning (eds.) 2008
Erll, A., Nünning, A. (eds.), Cultural Memory Studies: An International and Interdisciplinary Handbook, Media and Cultural Memory 8, Berlin, New York, 2008.

Erman 1910
Erman, A., Zwei Aktenstücke aus der thebanischen Gräberstadt, Berlin, 1910.

Erman 1911
Erman, A., Denksteine aus der thebanischen Gräberstadt, Berlin, 1911.

Evans 2007
Evans, R.J.W., “Introduction”, in M. Cornwall, R.J.W. Evans (eds.), Czechoslovakia in a Nationalist and Fascist Europe, Proceedings of the British Academy 140, Oxford, New York, 2007, pp. 1–11.

Felski 2012
Felski, R., “Critique and the Hermeneutics of Suspicion”, M/C Journal. Media culture 15/1, 2012, <http://journal.media-culture.org.au/index.php/mcjournal/article/viewArticle/431> accessed 29 Aug. 2018.

Foucart 1919
Foucart, G., Questionnaire préliminaire d’ethnologie africaine, Cairo, 1919, also as Introductory Questions on African Ethnology.

Foucart 1925
Archives IFAO, personal file J. Černý, memorandum, probably G. Foucart to the Ministry, 18 April 1925.

Gange 2013
Gange, D., Dialogues with the Dead: Egyptology in British Culture and Religion, 1822–1922, Oxford, 2013.

Gardiner, Weigall 1913
Gardiner, A.H., Weigall, A.E.P., A Topographical Catalogue of the Private Tombs of Thebes, London, 1913.

Gershoni, Jankowski 1995
Gershoni, I., Jankowski, J.P., Redefining the Egyptian Nation, 1930–1945, Cambridge Middle East Studies 2, Cambridge, 1995.

Gertzen 2017
Gertzen, T., Einführung in die Wissenschaftsgeschichte der Ägyptologie, EQA 10, Berlin, 2017.

Grabar (ed.) 1991
Grabar, O. (ed.), K.A.C. Creswell and His Legacy, Muqarnas 8, 1991.

Hagen, Ryholt 2016
Hagen, F., Ryholt, K., The Antiquities Trade in Egypt 1880–1930: The H.O. Lange Papers, Copenhagen, 2016.

Hamilton 1974
Hamilton, R.W., “Keppel Archibald Cameron Creswell, 1879–1974”, PBA 60, 1974, pp. 1–20.

Hrdlička 2009
Hrdlička, J., “Historik a diplomat Vlastimil Kybal. Prezentace a reprezentace české vědy a kultury v letech 1919–1925”, in D. Blümlová (ed.), Čas optimismu a ctižádostivých nadějí. Prezentace a reprezentace české vědy a kultury v prvním desetiletí samostatného státu (1918–1929), České Budějovice, 2009, pp. 29–44.

Hurban 1924a
Archives IFAO, personal file J. Černý, from V.S. Hurban, chargé d’affaires, to George Foucart, Director of the IFAO, Cairo, 8 April 1924.

Hurban 1924b
Archives IFAO, personal file J. Černý, George Foucart to V.S. Hurban, 2 typescript pages, carbon copy, Cairo, 15 April 1924.

James 1971
James, T.G.H., “Jaroslav Černý”, JEA 57, 1971, pp. 185–189.

Jůnová Macková 2009a
Jůnová Macková, A., “Československo-egyptský obchod”, in A. Jůnová Macková, H. Navratilova, H. Havlůjová, L. Jůn (eds.), Krásný, báječný, nešťastný, Egypt!, Prague, 2009, pp. 111–127.

Jůnová Macková 2009b
Jůnová Macková, A., “President T.G. Masaryk in Egypt and Palestine in 1927”, in I. Lázár, J. Holaubek (eds.), Egypt and Austria V: Egypt’s Heritage in Europe, Koper, 2009, pp. 169–184.

Jůnová Macková (ed.) 2014
Jůnová Macková, A. (ed.), S diplomatem v Orientu: Cyril a Pavla Duškovi v Egyptě (1922–1924), Prague, 2014.

Jůnová Macková 2016
Jůnová Macková, A., “The Oriental Institute in Prague: Cultural Department and the Orient”, in A. Jůnová Macková, L. Storchová, L. Jůn (eds.), Egypt and Austria X:Visualizing the Orient – Central Europe and the Near East in the 19th and 20th Centuries, Prague, 2016, pp. 129–144.

King 2005
King, J., Budweisers into Czechs and Germans: A Local History of Bohemian Politics, 1848–1948, Princeton, 2005.

King 1984
King, J.W., Historical Dictionary of Egypt, Cairo, 1984.

Kohl 2010
Kohl, P.L., “Potential Abuses and Uses of the Remote Past in the Middle East (and Elsewhere)”, in Boytner, Swartz Dood, Parker (eds.) 2010, pp. 328–329.

Latour 2004
Latour, B., “Why Has Critique Run out of Steam? From Matters of Fact to Matters of Concern”, Critical Inquiry 30/2, 2004, pp. 225–248.

Latour 2005
Latour, B., Reassembling the Social: An Introduction to Actor-Network-Theory, Oxford, New York, 2005.

Lee 2008
Lee, H., Body Parts: Essays in Life-Writing, London, 2008.

Lemmen 2014
Lemmen, S., “Unsere Aufgaben in der Orientalistik und im Orient: Die Gründung und die erste Dekade des Prager Orientalischen Instituts in der Zwischenkriegszeit”, in R. Born, S. Lemmen, (eds.), Orientalismen in Ostmitteleuropa: Diskurse, Akteure und Disziplinen vom 19. Jahrhundert bis zum Zweiten Weltkrieg, Postcolonial Studies 19, Bielefeld, 2014, pp. 119–143.

Lewis 2016
Lewis, C., “Inaugural Lectures in Egyptology: T.E. Peet and His Pupil W.B. Emery”, Bulletin of the History of Archaeology 26/1, 2016, pp. 1–15.

Lewis, Moshenska (eds.) forthcoming
Lewis, C., Moshenska, G. (eds.), Life Writing in the History of Archaeology: Critical Perspectives, forthcoming.

Lexa 1923
Lexa, F., Belletristická literatura staroegyptská, Prague, 1923.

Macura 1983
Macura, V., Znamení zrodu : české obrození jako kulturní typ, Prague, 1983.

Marchand 2009
Marchand, S., German Orientalism in the Age of Empire: Religion, Race, and Scholarship, Cambridge, 2009.

Meskell 2000
Meskell, L., “The Practice and Politics of Archaeology in Egypt”, Annals of the New York Academy of Sciences 925/1, 2000, pp. 146–169.

Moreno Garcia 2015
Moreno Garcia, J.C., “The Cursed Discipline? The Peculiarities of Egyptology at the Turn of the Twenty-first Century”, in W. Carruthers (ed.), Histories of Egyptology: Interdisciplinary Measures, Routledge Studies in Egyptology 2, New York, London, 2015, pp. 50-63.

Musil 1920
Musil, A., Naše úkoly v orientalistice a v Orientě, Prague, 1920.

Musil 1926a
Musil, A., Northern Arabia According to the Original Investigation of Alois Musil, New York, 1926.

Musil 1926b
Musil, A., The Northern eğâz: A Topographical Itinerary, Oriental Explorations and Studies 1, New York, 1926.

Musil 1927
Musil, A., Arabia Deserta: A Topographical Itinerary, Oriental Explorations and Studies 2, New York, 1927.

Musil 1928a
Musil, A., Northern Neğd: A Topographical Itinerary, Oriental Explorations and Studies 5, New York, 1928.

Musil 1928b
Musil, A., The Manners and Customs of the Rwala Bedouins, Oriental Explorations and Studies 6, New York, 1928.

Navratilova 2017
Navratilova, H., “Biografická prolegomena. K raným létům egyptologa Jaroslava. Černého”, Práce z dějin Akademie věd 9/1, 2017, pp. 3–26.

Navratilova forthcoming
Navratilova, H., “Partnership of Diplomacy and Science”, forthcoming.

Navratilova, Jůnová Macková 2015
Navratilova, H., Jůnová Macková, A., “Jaroslav Černý a František Lexa. Edice korespondence zakladatelů české egyptologie”, Práce z dějin Akademie vě7/1, 2015, pp. 89–148.

O’Connor 1970
O’Connor, D., “Jaroslav Černý, 1898–1970”, Expedition 12/4, 1970, pp. 2–5.

Oerter 2010
Oerter, W.B., Die Ägyptologie an den Prager Universitäten 1882–1945, Prague, 2010.

Onderka (ed.) 2015
Onderka, P. (ed.), In the Shadow of a Pyramid: The Egyptian Collection of L.V. Holzmaister, Dedicated to the Memory of Jana Martínková, Prague, 2015.

Orzoff 2009
Orzoff, A., Battle for the Castle: The Myth of Czechoslovakia in Europe, Oxford, 2009.

Peet 1920
Peet, T.E., The Mayer Papyri A & B, Nos. M. 11162 and M. 11186 of the Free Public Museums, Liverpool, London, 1920.

Peet 1924
Griffith Institute Archive, Oxford, Collection Gardiner, AHG 42.124.230, T.E. Peet to A.H. Gardiner, 13.9.1924.

Peet 1926
Griffith Institute Archive, Oxford, Collection Gardiner, AHG. 42.230.92, T.E. Peet to A.H. Gardiner, 16.10.1926.

Peet 1930
Peet, T.E., The Great Tomb-Robberies of the Twentieth Egyptian Dynasty, Oxford, 1930.

Pleyte, Rossi 1869–1876
Pleyte, W., Rossi, F., Papyrus de Turin, Leiden, 1869–1876.

Reid 1985
Reid, D.M., “Indigenous Egyptology: The Decolonization of a Profession?”, JAOS 105/2, 1985, pp. 233–246.

Reid 1997
Reid, D.M., “Nationalizing the Pharaonic Past: Egyptology, Imperialism, and Egyptian Nationalism, 1922–1952”, in I. Gershoni, J.P. Jankowski (eds.), Rethinking Nationalism in the Arab Middle East, New York, 1997, pp. 127–149.

Reid 2002
Reid, D.M., Cairo University and the Making of Modern Egypt, 1990, CMEL 23, Cambridge, 2002.

Reid 2015
Reid, D.M., Contesting Antiquity in Egypt: Archaeologies, Museums, and the Struggle for Identities from World War I to Nasser, Cairo, New York, 2015.

Renders, De Haan (eds.) 2014
Renders, H., De Haan, B. (eds.), Theoretical Discussions of Biography: Approaches from History, Microhistory and Life Writing, 2013, 2nd ed., Leiden, Boston, 2014.

Rorty 1989
Rorty, R., Contingency, Irony, and Solidarity, Cambridge, 1989.

Růžová 2010
Růžová, J., The Scribe of the Place of Truth: The Life of the Egyptologist Jaroslav Černý, Prague, 2010.

Ryzova 2014
Ryzova, L., The Age of the Efendiyya: Passages to Modernity in National-Colonial Egypt, Oxford Historical Monographs, Oxford, 2014.

Söderqvist 1996
Söderqvist, T., “Existential Projects and Existential Choice in Science: Science Biography as an Edifying Genre”, in M. Shortland, R. Yeo (eds.), Telling Lives in Science: Essays on Scientific Biography, Cambridge, 1996, pp. 45–84.

Spiegelberg 1892
Spiegelberg, W., Studien und Materialien zum Rechtswesen des Pharaonenreiches der Dynastien XVIII-XXI (c. 1500-1000 v. Chr.), Hannover, 1892.

Spiegelberg 1895
Spiegelberg, W., Arbeiter und Arbeiterbewegung im Pharaonenreich unter den Ramessiden (ca. 1400–1100 v. Chr.): Eine kulturgeschichtliche Skizze, Strasbourg, 1895.

Spiegelberg 1898
Spiegelberg, W., Zwei Beiträge zur Geschichte und Topographie der thebanischen Necropolis im Neuen Reich: I. Der Grabtempel Amenophis’ I. zu Drah-Abu’l-Negga; II. Plan einer Gesamtarbeit über die Verwaltung der thebanischen Necropolis im Neuen Reich (Vortrag), Leipzig, 1898.

Spiegelberg 1921
Spiegelberg, W., Ägyptische und andere Graffiti (Inschriften und Zeichnungen) aus der thebanischen Nekropolis, Heidelberg, 1921.

St Clair 2002
St Clair, W., “The Biographer as Archaeologist”, in P. France, W. St Clair (eds.), Mapping Lives, Oxford, 2002, pp. 228–234.

Steiner 2007
Steiner, Z., The Lights that Failed: European International History, 1919–1933, 2005, Oxford History of Modern Europe, Oxford, 2007.

Thompson 2015
Thompson, J., Wonderful Things: A History of Egyptology, vol. 1: From Antiquity to 1881, Cairo, New York, 2015.

Tosh 2009
Tosh, J., The Pursuit of History, London, 2009.

Verner (ed.) 1989
Verner, M. (ed.), František Lexa, Prague, 1989.

Wendrich 2010
Wendrich, W., “From Practical Knowledge to Empowered Communication: Field Schools of the Supreme Council of Antiquities in Egypt”, in Boytner, Swartz Dood, Parker (eds.) 2010, pp. 178–195.

Wingfield 2007
Wingfield, N., Flag Wars and Stone Saints: How the Bohemian Lands Became Czech, Cambridge, MA, London, 2007.

Winlock 1926
Winlock, H.E., The Monastery of Epiphanius at Thebes, Part I: The Archaeological Material by H.E. Winlock – The Literary Material by W.E. Crum, PMMA 3, New York, 1926.

Žďárský 2014
Žďárský, P., “Alois Musil jako zakladatel československé orientalistiky – ve službách republiky”, Nový Orient 69/1, 2014, pp. 54–60.

Haut de page

Notes

1 To be discussed in detail in a forthcoming publication concerned with life writing and the history of archaeology: Lewis, Moshenska (eds.) forthcoming.

2 Discussed by A. Bednarski (2015); further T. Gertzen (2017).

3 Thompson 2015, p. 8.

4 See also an introduction to archival research for Egyptologists, Gertzen 2017.

5 Lee 2008, pp. 2–3.

6 Bednarski 2015.

7 Cf. Lee 2008, pp. 8–16.

8 Cf. Renders, De Haan (eds.) 2014.

9 Cf. Lee 2008, p. 86.

10 Compare a balanced analysis by L. Ryzova (2014) of Egyptian modernization and the formation of the efendiya, a fluid, but at the same time clearly visible group of Egyptian middle class that embraced modernity and authenticity as contending, but not mutually exclusive, but parallel elements of their identity.

11 Cf. also Marchand 2009, p. xix–xxv.

12 Compare Latour 2005, pp. 23–24.

13 Rorty 1989, p. 43.

14 Note by Felski 2012: “The exceptionalist aura of critique often thwarts attempts to get outside its orbit. Sociologist Michael Billig, for example, notes that critique thinks of itself as battling orthodoxy, yet is now the reigning orthodoxy—no longer oppositional, but obligatory, not defamiliarising, but oppressively familiar.”

15 See for instance Meskell 2000.

16 Phrase coined by Paul Ricœur.

17 Differences and relationships between the two discussed by R. Felski (2012).

18 So Felski 2012.

19 Latour 2004, p. 227 and 231, emphasis by B. Latour.

20 Boghossian 2006, p. 17, with further references. P. Boghossian and also I. Hacking discussed the social constructionist issues in further detail.

21 Articulated in a number of studies, cf. Erll, Nünning (eds.) 2008, Cubitt 2007.

22 Cf. Certeau 1975, an English edition Certeau 1992.

23 Marchand 2009, p. xxi.

24 Compare Wendrich 2010, pp. 178–195 and Meskell 2000.

25 Tosh 2009, p. 22.

26 Gange 2013, p. 325.

27 Compare Wendrich 2010, offering a generally balanced assessment of the current Egyptological situation.

28 Kohl 2010, pp. 328–329.

29 Lewis 2016, p. 1.

30 Compare Marchand 2009, pp. xxv–xxvi.

31 Boghossian 2006, p. 113.

32 Compare contributions in Renders, De Haan (eds.) 2014, also St Clair 2002, Söderqvist 1996.

33 Marchand 2009, p. xxi.

34 Marchand 2009, p. xxxii.

35 Reid 1997, p. 149.

36 Personal communication Georges Castel, October 2017.

37 Outline Bierbrier (ed.) 2012, pp. 110–112.

38 Edwards 1972, O’Connor 1970, pp. 2–5.

39 James 1971, pp. 185–189.

40 Marchand 2009, p. xxv.

41 For the Egyptian side see Gershoni, Jankowski 1995, Ryzova 2014, for the Czechoslovak side see King 2005, Macura 1983, Wingfield 2007.

42 So C. Desroches Noblecourt (1992, p. 42).

43 James 1971, p. 189.

44 Cf. Gange 2013.

45 Pace Moreno Garcia 2015, pp. 50–63.

46 For the details of the tomb opening as noted by H. Carter and other participants, see Griffith Institute Archive, Tutankhamun: Anatomy of an Excavation, and http://www.griffith.ox.ac.uk/discoveringTut/journals-and-diaries.

47 For the text see Blaustein, Sigler, Beede (eds.) 1977, pp. 204–205 and King 1984, pp. 259–260.

48 Steiner 2007, p. 289.

49 Concerning Dušek’s posting Jůnová Macková (ed.) 2014, including an English resumé.

50 Navratilova 2017. An outline of his family background also Růžová 2010.

51 His language skills are shown in his school certificates (City Archives of Pilsen, Files of the IInd boys elementary school, Karlovarská 1904-1909, and the Ist Czech Grammar school, 1909–1917, personal pages J. Černý) and his later application to the Živnobanka (Černý 1919).

52 F. Lexa was active as grammar school teacher, equally historian J. Šusta and other university teachers of that generation.

53 Introductory information on Lexa and development of early Egyptology at the Prague universities, see Verner (ed.) 1989, and Oerter 2010.

54 Černý 1946.

55 Archive of the Charles University in Prague, Faculty of Arts, Student registers, winter semester 1917/1918 to summer semester 1922. Classes J. Černý.

56 Aspects of his early formation at the university necessitate further study. Cf. list of classes in Archive of the Charles University in Prague, Faculty of Arts, Student registers, 1917–1922.

57 Archive of the Charles University in Prague, Faculty of Arts, List of students 1920–1921 Inv. No. 145.

58 Topics he referred to repeatedly in his introductory chapters to translations of Egyptian literary texts (Lexa 1923).

59 Cf. Gange 2013, Marchand 2009.

60 Compare outline by Onderka (ed.) 2015.

61 “Perché, forse gli astronomi vanno sulle stele?”, attributed to Giuseppe Botti.

62 Černý 1922.

63 Černý 1922, p. 12.

64 Černý 1922, p. 14.

65 Spiegelberg 1895, p. 10.

66 Černý 1922, p. 16.

67 Spiegelberg 1895, p. 5.

68 Compare Marchand 2009, p. 160.

69 Cf. also Moreno Garcia 2015, pp. 50–63.

70 It was shown more clearly later in his public lectures, e.g. Černý s.a.

71 This was repeated also later with interest in Theban graffiti, and, coincidentally or not, also with the habilitation lecture by Černý concerned with Credibility of Herodotus (in 1929), whereas Spiegelberg presented The Credibility of Herodotus’ Account of Egypt in the Light of the Egyptian Monuments: Being a Lecture Delivered at the Fifth-fifth Congress of German Philologists and Schoolmasters at Erlangen in 1927.

72 Studien und Materialien zum Rechtswesen des Pharaonenreiches der Dynastien XVIII-XXI (c. 1500-1000 v. Chr.). Spiegelberg’s dissertation was an interesting, problem-oriented collection of case studies focused on authorities and institutions that Spiegelberg identified as having a role in the Egyptian legal system. A number of Theban papyri, such as Mayer A and B, were included.

73 Arbeiter und Arbeiterbewegung im Pharaonenreich unter den Ramessiden (ca. 1400–1100 v. Chr.): Eine kulturgeschichtliche Skizze. Spiegelberg considered this work as adding another element to the study of the Egyptian workmen, respective daily life, after Chabas and Erman. He outlined a sketch of the workmen’s life, mostly based on papyri from Western Thebes, which he was well acquainted with. Their settlement was not identified, neither was it entirely clear that the sources concerned exclusively royal workmen. Spiegelberg embarked on a general outline of a monumental landscape of Western Thebes (without detailed toponymy yet) and on the work routine, excuses from work, including the menstruation taboo of women in a workman’s household, and elements of daily life, and public and private affairs. A part is dedicated to the Ramesside strikes of the workmen.

74 Zwei Beiträge zur Geschichte und Topographie der thebanischen Necropolis im Neuen Reich: I. Der Grabtempel Amenophis’ I. zu Drah-Abu’l-Negga; II. Plan einer Gesamtarbeit über die Verwaltung der thebanischen Necropolis im Neuen Reich (Vortrag). The publication consisted of two studies, one dedicated to a survey of the temple of Amenhotep I. The search for the temple of Amenhotep I was informed by Theban text references, archaeological observation, as well as by local knowledge.

75 Spiegelberg repeated his recognition of Awad’s input in his later publication on Theban graffiti, cf. Spiegelberg 1921, p. VII.

76 Spiegelberg 1895 and Spiegelberg 1898.

77 Černý Mss. 17 in the present Černý Collection in the Griffith Institute Archive, University of Oxford.

78 Peet 1920.

79 Erman 1910, pp. 330–347, and Erman 1911, pp. 1086–1110.

80 Cf. Černý 1949, pp. v–vii. The idea of a comprehensive collection of hieroglyphic texts from the site first materialized in a collection of texts from the Deir el-Medina tombs in 1926, Černý 1926–1928, “Deir el-Medîna tombs: description and texts.” Tombs were listed alongside copies of texts, most copied in 1926, then collated in 1927–1928. Most of the material was copied in situ with additional records made in Turin, Museo Egizio. Included also references to Gardiner, Weigall 1913, and Engelbach 1924. It was an expansive follow-up of the ideas of Spiegelberg illustrated above.

81 Repeatedly shown in correspondence with F. Lexa in the 1923–1925 period, Archive of the Academy of Sciences, Fonds Lexa, box 2, inv. no. 69, correspondence Lexa–Černý.

82 Peet 1924

83 Peet 1926.

84 Černý, Peet 1927.

85 Peet 1930, p. vii.

86 Bruyère 1924.

87 Adams 1997, pp. 25–32.

88 Foucart 1919, published in a French and an English version.

89 Winlock 1926.

90 Burke 2015, chapter 2.

91 A note to that effect was added to his baptism record in Pilsen baptism register from 1898, Archives of the city of Pilsen.

92 In his 1921 to 1924 letters to Lexa and to Prášek. Archive of the Academy of Sciences, Prague (AAVCR) Lexa, Fonds Lexa, box 2, inv. no. 69, correspondence Lexa–Černý, Archive of the National Museum (ANM), Fonds Prášek, correspondence Černý–Prášek.

93 Černý 1919.

94 A biography of Botti is available: Botti 2011, referring to his friendship with Černý on several occasions.

95 Dušek’s mission analysed by Jůnová Macková (ed.) 2014.

96 See also Hagen, Ryholt 2016.

97 There is a possibility that the villa was actually within the then suburb of Garden City, as it had a large garden, which would not have been entirely typical for mansions on Qasr el-Aini itself. I gratefully acknowledge the opportunity to consult the location with a long-term resident of the Mounira area Cynthia M. Sheikholeslami.

98 About the building also Chassinat 1909.

99 Hurban 1924a.

100 Hurban 1924b.

101 See further Navratilova forthcoming.

102 Foucart 1925.

103 On Creswell, see Hamilton 1974, and Grabar (ed.) 1991.

104 Reid 2015, pp. 84–86. F. Lexa hoped that Hurban might suceed with Lacau in obtaining artefacts for Prague, which he considered vital for a promotion of Egyptology (very much in line with situation in major Egyptological powers), but this had not come to pass. The episode was difficult to clarify before accessing the Hurban–Foucart correspondence at the IFAO; cf. a differing earlier interpretation by Růžová 2010, p. 159.

105 Cf. Steiner 2007, pp. 289–298.

106 Cf. Reid 1985 and Reid 1997.

107 On its history and development, cf. Reid 2002.

108 See Jůnová Macková 2009b.

109 A. Musil formulated an outline in Naše úkoly v orientalistice a v Orientě, Praha 1920 (Musil 1920). See also Lemmen 2014, Žďárský 2014 and Jůnová Macková 2016.

110 See also Jůnová Macková 2009a, pp. 111–127.

111 See Musil 1926a and b, 1927, 1928a, 1928b, all of the above published in New York by the American Geographical Society.

112 Orzoff 2009, pp. 69–76.

113 Hrdlička 2009, pp. 29–44.

114 AAVCR, Fonds Lexa, call no. IIB, rec. no. 305. Original in Czech.

115 Jůnová Macková (ed.) 2014, p. 92 and 244.

116 Navratilova forthcoming.

117 Černý 1926a.

118 AKPR, File J. Černý, and report from Jan. 1926.

119 Černý 1926c. Translation quoted after Růžová 2010, p. 203.

120 Cf. Evans 2007, pp. 1–11.

121 Pleyte, Rossi 1869–1876.

122 And reported details to Lexa: Černý 1926b.

123 The sea journey figures prominently in family letters of Pavla Dušková, for instance, Jůnová Macková (ed.) 2014, part III.

124 Černý 1926b.

125 Černý 1925.

126 Archive of the Academy of Sciences, Prague, Fonds Lexa, box 2, inv. no. 69, correspondence Lexa–Černý, see edited letters by Navratilova, Jůnová Macková 2015.

127 Cf the issues of Egyptian modernity, Ryzova 2014.

128 See Chassinat 1909, and personal communications from Nadine Cherpion, Bianca Madden, and Cédric Larcher related to an ongoing research and conservation project concerned with the IFAO premises, October 2017.

129 Foucart 1925.

130 Term used by Reid 2015, p. 168.

131 Černý 1925.

Haut de page

Table des illustrations

Titre Fig. 1. Jaroslav Černý in December 1922, shortly after receiving his doctorate.
Crédits © Archive of the Czech National Bank, Prague, fonds Živnobanka, file J. Černý.
URL http://journals.openedition.org/bifao/docannexe/image/5589/img-1.jpg
Fichier image/jpeg, 241k
Titre Fig. 2. Page 6 of Černý’s dissertation, with a schematic map of Western Thebes.
Crédits © Archive of the Charles University in Prague, Faculty of Arts dissertations collection.
URL http://journals.openedition.org/bifao/docannexe/image/5589/img-2.jpg
Fichier image/jpeg, 1003k
Titre Fig. 3. A photo taken at Western Thebes on 15 March 1927, from left Jaroslav Černý, Georges Foucart, Yugoslavian diplomat Dušič, Madame Chevrier, Bernard Bruyère, and Jacques Jean Clère, photographed by Henri Chevrier.
Crédits © The Griffith Institute Archive, University of Oxford, Collection Clère, Clère Mss. 27.15.2.1.01.
URL http://journals.openedition.org/bifao/docannexe/image/5589/img-3.jpg
Fichier image/jpeg, 277k
Haut de page

Pour citer cet article

Référence papier

Hana Navratilova, « The Road to Mounira »Bulletin de l’Institut français d’archéologie orientale (BIFAO), 118 | 2019, 283-316.

Référence électronique

Hana Navratilova, « The Road to Mounira »Bulletin de l’Institut français d’archéologie orientale (BIFAO) [En ligne], 118 | 2019, mis en ligne le 11 janvier 2021, consulté le 26 janvier 2021. URL : http://journals.openedition.org/bifao/5589 ; DOI : https://doi.org/10.4000/bifao.5589

Haut de page

Auteur

Hana Navratilova

University of Reading, Department of Classics, Faculty Member, Whiteknights, Reading, RG6 6AA

Haut de page

Droits d’auteur

Bulletin de l’Institut français d'archéologie orientale (BIFAO)

Haut de page
  • Logo Institut français d'archéologie orientale
  • OpenEdition Journals
Rechercher dans OpenEdition Search

Vous allez être redirigé vers OpenEdition Search