¹ Soon after the discovery of the site, two volumes were published containing a summary of the surface finds and results of the preliminary survey of the region: Bossert, H. Th. and Çambel, Halet, Karatepe: A preliminary report on a new Hittite site, Istanbul, 1946Google Scholar; and Bossert, H. Th. and Alkım, U. Bahadır, Karatepe: Kadirli and its Environments. Second preliminary report, Istanbul, 1947Google Scholar. Then, with the initiation of annual field seasons, excavation reports appeared in Belleten from 1947 on. The early seasons were summarized in Alkım, Bossert and Çambel, , Karatepe Kazıları (Die Ausgrabungen auf dem Karatepe, Erster Vorbericht), Ankara, 1950Google Scholar. Since that time, the site has generated a vast literature on specific aspects of the material. Two recent discussions, Ussishkin, D., “The Date of the Neo-Hittite Enclosure in Karatepe”, Anat. Stud. XIX (1969) 121–137Google Scholar, and Steinherr, F., “Zu einigen Problemen von Karatepe”, WO 6 (1970–1971) 166–182Google Scholar, have provided quite complete bibliographies. It was decided therefore not to repeat them here, but simply to refer to relevant studies as the documentation requires in the course of the following article.

² Bossert, and Çambel, , Karatepe: preliminary report, p. 14Google Scholar.

³ Bossert, H. Th., “Die Phönizisch-Hethitischen Bilinguen von Karatepe”, Belleten XII (1948) 531Google Scholar. The spelling followed for Azatiwatas (á-x-za-ti-wa-ta/ra/i-) is that proposed in Hawkins, J. D., Morpurgo-Davies, A. and Neumann, G., Hittite Hieroglyphs and Luwian: New Evidence for the Connection (Nachrichten der Akademie der Wissenschaften in Göttingen I. Philologische-historische Klasse. Jahrgang 1973, Nr. 6), Göttingen, 1974, p. 21Google Scholar.

⁴ Mellink, M. J., “Karatepe, More light on the Dark Ages”, Bibl. Or. VII: 5(1950) 141–150Google Scholar; Levy, I., “Les inscriptions de Karatepe”, La Nouvelle Clio I–II (1949–1950) 105–121Google Scholar.

⁵ Barnett, R. D., Leveen, J. and Moss, C., “A Phoenician Inscription from Eastern Cilicia”, Iraq 10 (1948) 56–71CrossRefGoogle Scholar; Barnett, R. D., “Karatepe, the Key to the Hittite Hieroglyphs”, AS III (1953) 53–95Google Scholar; Gordon, C., “Azitawadd's Phoenician Inscription”, JNES 8 (1949) 108–9Google Scholar; Goetze, A., “Cilicians”, JCS 16 (1962) 48–58Google Scholar; Albright, W. F., “Some Oriental Glosses on the Homeric Problem”, AJA 54 (1950) 162–176CrossRefGoogle Scholar and especially 172; idem, in “Some Recent Archaeological Publications”, BASOR 180 (1965) 41; Ussishkin, AS XIX, passim, including bibliography, fn. 10.

⁶ Çambel, H., “Karatepe: An Archaeological Introduction to a Recently Discovered Hittite Site in Southern Anatolia”, Oriens I (1948) 147–149CrossRefGoogle Scholar. That flat and crude carving on reliefs cannot be used as an absolute criterion for dating is evident from the reliefs in Assyrian style from Arslan Tash – variously dated between the turtanship of Šamši-ilu, attested at least between 780 and 753 B.C., and the reign of Tiglath-pileser III (744–727), but surely of the eighth century (cf. Thureau-Dangin, F. et al. , Arslan Tash, Paris, 1931Google Scholar, esp. Pl. XIII: 1 & 3, and on the dating, Reade, J. E., “The Neo-Assyrian Court and Army: Evidence from the Sculptures”, Iraq XXXIV (1972) 89Google Scholar).

⁷ Orthmann, W., Untersuchungen zur späthethitischen Kunst, Bonn, 1971, pp. 106–111 and 142–144Google Scholar (henceforth, USK).

⁸ Ussishkin, , AS XIX, p. 126Google Scholar.

⁹ Cf. Orthmann, USK, Pls. 9a, 11b, c, 24a, c–f, 30e–h, 37a, b, 42a, b, 43i, 57a–c (all = 9th century); 45d, g, 46a, 47f, 48i, 51c, f, 52f, 64c, 66d (= 8th century); and Mallowan, M. and Herrmann, G., Ivories from Nimrud (1949–1963), Fascicule III: Furniture from SW7, Fort Shalmaneser, Aberdeen, 1974, Nos. 1, 47, 49, 50 and 66Google Scholar.

¹⁰ Orthmann, USK, Pls. 15h ∥ 57b; see also here Pl. XVa right and Pl. XVIa from Karatepe, as compared to Pl. XVIc from Zincirli of the 9th century.

^10a Ussishkin, , AS XIX, p. 132Google Scholar.

¹¹ USK, Pls. 10h ∥ 50a, 64c and 65a–f.

¹² Ibid., Pls. 19d ∥ 45d, g, 47d, 50a, 63b, c, 66c, d. For a definition of this “elaborate” style, cf. Akurgal, E., The Art of Greece: Its Origins, New York, 1968Google Scholar, Ch. III. Ussishkin has argued that the absence of a moustache on the upper lip of these figures should support a 9th century date, parallel to similar occurrences at Tell Halaf, Carchemish, and Zincirli, (AS XIX, p. 129)Google Scholar. He noted that a sequential development to a full moustache is observable in Sam'al and should therefore be true for Karatepe as well. However there does seem to be evidence that the absence of an upper-lip moustache is not a valid criterion for dating, as on a series of ivory carvings found at Nimrud and attributed to Sam'al, one sees both types although the entire group seems to be of the (second half of the) 8th century (cf. e.g., Mallowan and Herrmann, op. cit. [n. 9], Nos. 1–22 vs. No. 64, and Winter, I. J., “Carved Ivory Furniture Panels from Nimrud: A coherent subgroup of the North Syrian Style”, Metropolitan Museum Journal 11 (1976) 25–54CrossRefGoogle Scholar). Furthermore, Ussishkin himself notes that the frontal Bes reliefs from Karatepe do have full upper-lip moustaches. In any event, this detail takes on less importance in view of the other, more compelling arguments from proportion and hairstyle – especially the particular, detailed coiffure seen on the musicians and attendants. For, quite consistently from Assurnaṣirpal II of Assyria to Kilamua of Sam'al in the 9th century, hair is shown as a series of curls flowing back from the nape of the neck to the shoulder, while in the 8th century and later, the hair comes straight from the crown, terminating in two or three rows of tight curls which sit squarely on the nape – exactly as they do on the Karatepe attendants relief of group (B) (cf. e.g., Budge, E. A. W., Assyrian Sculptures in the British Museum, The Reign of Ashur-Nasir-pal, 885–860 B.C., London, 1914Google Scholar, Pls. XXIX, XXXI as compared to Budge, Assyrian Sculptures in the British Museum, From Shalmaneser III to Sennacherib, London, 1938Google Scholar, Pls. XXV, XXVIII (Sargon II)–LXV–LXVII (Sennacherib), and apparent also in North Syria, e.g., Orthmann, USK, Pls. 14e, 49d, 63b–d.

¹³ USK, Pl. 18c ∥ 63g; and Mallowan, M., Nimrud and its Remains I, New York, 1968, Fig. 168Google Scholar. A second “musicians” pyxis from Nimrud (Barnett, R. D., Catalogue of the Nimrud Ivories, London, 1957, S.3Google Scholar) has been found to include a short inscription on the base in Aramaean, with the designation of the North Syrian state of Bt-Gš – i.e., Bit Guši, or Arpad (cf. Puech, E., “Un ivoire de Bit-Guši (Arpad) à Nimrud”, Syria LV (1978), 163–169Google Scholar. This pyxis is particularly interesting, as in addition to the musicians, one sees a small crouching, simian-like figure underneath the table opposite a seated figure, just as on the Karatepe group (A) banquet relief. The significance of these figures is not at all understood, though they seem to have had a long history in Anatolia and in the Levant (cf. Frankfort, H., Cylinder Seals, London, 1939Google Scholar, Pl. XXXIXk; and most recently, Culican, W., “Syrian and Cypriot Cubical Seals” Levant IX (1977), p. 164Google Scholar and Pl. XVIIB).

¹⁴ Akurgal, , Greece, p. 138Google Scholar.

¹⁵ Orthmann, USK, Pl. 51c, and Mallowan and Herrmann, op. cit. (n. 9) No. 1. This, contra Ussishkin, who explains away too easily the later wheel type and larger cab by reference to the fact that some of the enemies of Assurnaşirpal II on 9th century reliefs use eight-spoked wheels, and the Hittites at the battle of Qadesh in the 13th century B.C. likewise had eight-spoked wheels on chariots that carried three men. His contention is that this is no valid criterion for a late date for the Karatepe relief, given the above precedents if the more advanced type had indeed evolved first in North Syria. But he is then forced into elaborate convolutions to explain that the chariots on the 9th century reliefs of the Long Wall at Carchemish (and presumably also at Malatya) have only six-spoked wheels and carry only two men because those states had already succumbed to “Assyrian influence” – presumably therefore regressing to a less advanced form of vehicle in the process (cf. AS XIX, p. 127Google Scholar). Like the upper-lip or full moustache, it would seem that these attributes cannot be used as absolute indicators of dates, but rather fall into general clusters of dates; there certainly are exceptions to most tight chronologies built on aspects of style and iconography. However in the present case, even on abstract grounds, it seems unlikely that Charchemish or Malatya would have either given up superior technology in the face of Assyrian influence, or changed their representations to match Assyrian imagery inconsistent with the actual chariots they were using. In any event, it is now clear that the Carchemish and Malatya reliefs precede those of Assurnaşirpal II in date, thus further weakening his reconstruction. To date, the earliest attested example of an eight-spoked wheel on a North Syrian relief seems to be that of the Tell Tainat orthostat, for which the present writer has argued in favour of a date in the first half of the 8th century (cf. Winter, I. J., “North Syria in the Early First Millennium B.C.…” PhD dissertation, Columbia University, New York, 1973, pp. 236–239Google Scholar).

¹⁶ Cf. on this, Akurgal, , Greece, p. 141Google Scholar.

¹⁷ von Oppenheim, M. et al. , Tell Halaf, Vol. IV, Berlin, 1962, Pl. 48Google Scholar.

¹⁸ Knudsen, A. K., “A Study of the Relation Between Phrygian Metalware and Pottery in the 8th and 7th Centuries B.C.”, unpublished PhD dissertation, University of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia, 1961Google Scholar.

¹⁹ A similar general type of vessel is represented on the Water Gate reliefs from Carchemish (USK, Pl. 21c), which are generally attributed to a very early (late second millennium to early first) date. However, that example, with its rounded body and no foot, is clearly only a general relative when compared in the strap-handled, spouted vase category with the more angular example from Karatepe, with its elaborate fluting and pedestal base typologically identical to Phrygian pieces. Since the ritual function of these spouted vessels is attested in general from Hittite Empire times, it is precisely the changes in detail that become significant chronological indicators (cf. Muscarella, O. W., Ancient Art: The Norbert Schimmel Collection, Mainz, 1974, no. 123Google Scholar, for a representation of the Hittite period).

²⁰ Orthmann, USK, Pl. 17f.

²¹ Porada, E., “A Lyre-Player from Tarsus and his Relations”, in Weinberg, S., ed., The Aegean and the Near East: Studies Presented to Hetty Goldman, Locust Valley, NY, 1956, p. 204Google Scholar.

²² Buchner, G. and Boardman, J., “Seals from Ischia and the Lyre-Player Group”, JDAI 81 (1966) 1–62Google Scholar. Porada, too, noted as a postscript in her article (p. 206, fn. 66) that the number of seals now known from Tarsus and Adana might point to production in Cilicia.

²³ Cf. Stier, H. E., “Probleme der frühgriechischen Geschichte und Kultur”, Historia I (1950) 216–218Google Scholar for discussion. The whole question of Greek interaction with the Levant is being dealt with currently in the PhD dissertation of P. R. Helms for the University of Pennsylvania – to whom I am indebted for the above reference.

²⁴ Cf. Basch, L., “Phoenician Oared Ships”, Mariner's Minor 55/2 (1969), 139–162CrossRefGoogle Scholar, for which reference I thank S. Waxman, Hebrew University, Jerusalem.

²⁵ DeVries, K. in Bass, G. F., A History of Seafaring, New York, 1972, pp. 41–43 and 55Google Scholar, and Pls. 3 and 4 and Text Figs. 3 and 4; Casson, Lionel, Ships and Seamanship in the Ancient World, Princeton, 1971, pp. 51–52Google Scholar.

²⁶ G. F. Bass, History of Seafaring, Pl. 7.

²⁷ Paterson, A., Assyrian Sculptures, Palace of Sinacherib, The Hague, 1915, Pls. 10, 11Google Scholar, illustrated in Bass, History of Seafaring, Text Fig. 14.

²⁸ Illustrated in Bass, History of Seafaring, Pl. 9. The Til Barsib ship, too, has the ram at he end, mast and rigging lines, and a similar single helmsman occupying the rear platform. DeVries notes aptly that since the Assyrians were no sailors, the ship is likely to be Phoenician (in Bass, A History of Seafaring, p. 43), and in the controversy over which 8th century Assyrian king or governor is responsible for the Til Barsib paintings, since this is a warship, one wonders if it might not be Sargon, as he was the first Assyrian king to be involved in actual sea battles (cf. Luckenbill, D. D., Ancient Records of Assyria and Babylonia, Vol. II, Chicago, 1929, §§ 92, 118Google Scholar).

²⁹ Mellink, , Bibl. Or. VII, pp. 141–159Google Scholar.

³⁰ Orthmann, USK, Figs. 15e, 15c and 16a; and discussion in Barnett, R. D., Catalogue of the Nimrud Ivories, London, 1957, pp. 55 ffGoogle Scholar.

³¹ Mellink, , Bibl. Or. VII, p. 144Google Scholar, re MAAR III, 1919, Pl. 22f and Gjerstad, , Op. Arch. IV 1946Google Scholar) Pl. IV. For Ras Shamra and the second millennium tradition, see Ward, W., “La déesse nourricière d'Ugarit”, Syria 46 (1969), 225–239CrossRefGoogle Scholar.

³² The Domuztepe relief has been published by Alkım, U. B., “The Results of the Recent Excavation at Domuztepe”, Belleten XVI (1952)Google Scholar, Figs. 3 and 4 and Mellink, M. J., “Archaeology in Asia Minor”, AJA 60 (1956)CrossRefGoogle Scholar, Pl. 121, Fig. 9. The Karatepe relief is cited by Mellink in the same article, pp. 376–7. For this type of palmette as a criterion for the Phoenician style, cf. Winter, , “Phoenician and North Syrian Ivory Carving in Historical Context: Questions of Style and Distribution”, Iraq 38 (1976), 6CrossRefGoogle Scholar. Both Mellink and Alkım have noted the closeness of the palmette at the top of the sacred tree to that under the chin of the relief sphinx. The Karatepe relief that is a virtually identical counterpart to the Domuztepe example is currently undergoing reconstruction, and has been found on the eastern side of the North Gate chamber.

³³ Orthmann, USK, Pl. 17h; Porada, E., “Notes on the Sarcophagus of Ahiram”, JANES 5 (1973), 354–372Google Scholar.

³⁴ Mallowan and Herrmann, op. cit. (n. 9), No. 46; and Winter, , MMJ 11Google Scholar, op. cit.

³⁵ Orthmann, USK, Pl. 17e.

³⁶ , J. W. and Crowfoot, G. M., Samaria-Sebaste II: Early Ivories from Samaria, London, 1938, Pl. II:2Google Scholar.

³⁷ MAAR III, Pl. 31f.

³⁸ Huls, Y., Ivoires d'Étrurie, Brussels, 1953, Pls. XIII and XXVIIGoogle Scholar; Freijeiro, A. Blanco, “Orientalia”, Archivo Español de Arqueologia XXIX (1956) 21Google Scholar.

³⁹ Crowfoot and Crowfoot, Samaria-Sebaste II, Pl. XVIII–XX; Thureau-Dangin et al., Arslan Tash, Pls. XLIV:94–96; Mallowan, , Nimrud and its Remains IIGoogle Scholar, Figs. 503, 752 and 580; Woolley, C. L. and Barnett, R. D., Carchemish III, London, 1957, Pl. 71fGoogle Scholar.

⁴⁰ A discussion of this and related types will soon be published as “Is there a South Syrian Style of Ivory Carving in the Early First Millennium B.C.?” Iraq (forthcoming). The presence of drooping-palm ivories at Arslan Tash along with the “Hazael” inscription suggest that the assemblage – if contemporary with the inscription and the reign of Hazael of Aram/Damascus in the second half of the 9th century – may have been manufactured as early as the 9th century; its terminus ante quem at Arslan Tash, I would suggest, should be the reign of Tiglathpileser III, whose inscriptions have been found at the site, and who annexed Damascus in 732 B.C. At Khorsabad, the pieces most probably derive from Sargon II's sack of Samaria in 722. This may be significant, as it gives a range from the second half of the 9th century to the first half of the 8th for the ivories' manufacture, and thus perhaps also for the reliefs of group (A) on which the furniture support appears.

⁴¹ Orthmann, USK, Pls. 15g, 16b and 17i; Mallowan, Nimrud and its Remains II, Fig. 504; Abu-al-Faraj al-Ush, M. et al. , Catalogue du Musée National de Damas, Damascus, 1969Google Scholar, Fig. 15.

⁴² Cf. Winter, , Iraq XXXVIII, esp. pp. 6–8Google Scholar. Again contra Ussishkin, who argues for stylistic similarities between the Karatepe and Tell Halaf gateway sphinxes. With this I must strongly disagree. Attributes cited are merely the most basic characteristics of all sphinxes in the round and could describe virtually any example brought forth. Differences, however, are extreme: for example, in the very elongated proportions of the body on the T. H. sphinx, with her relatively short legs; elaborate body markings, including belly hair, flame pattern on the haunches and articulation of the leg joins; and the way in which the wings are laid flat back over the body, as opposed to the raised wings of its counterpart at K. The wings spring from the shoulder, not from the belly, and the feathering of the wings is a combination of scales and tight herringbone segments, rather than the alternating blank and diagonal panels described for K. The hairstyles also differ, the one consisting of multiple corkscrew curls, the other of single chignon-like bunches at either side; and the patterned bib and shoulder decoration of the K. sphinx puts her clearly in a “Phoenician” rather than a “Syrian” tradition. In the final analysis, then, I would in no way insist upon stylistic ties between these two creatures.

⁴³ AS XIX, pp. 128–129Google Scholar.

⁴⁴ On the Amanus barrier as a cultural and political divide, cf. below.

⁴⁵ Buchner and Boardman, JDAI, Nos. 14, 40, 44, 107b and 137.

⁴⁶ Ibid., pp. 59–62.

⁴⁷ E.g., ibid., No. 141, which shows two men opposite a tree with a winged sundisc above, parallel to the Domuztepe and Karatepe reliefs cited earlier, fn. 32.

⁴⁸ Çambel, H., “Karatepe Heykeltıraşlık Eserleri Hakkında Bazi Mulahazalar”, Belleten XIII (1949) 35–6Google Scholar (English summary); Mellink, , Bibl. Or. VII, p. 144Google Scholar.

⁴⁹ Çambel, , in Karatepe Kazıları, p. 57Google Scholar; Belleten XIII, pp. 35–36; Oriens I, pp. 151–152, 157. The inscriptions were added after the blocks were in place, as there are a number of occasions when the orthostats containing the Hieroglyphic text were not sufficiently large, signs then spilling over onto adjacent relief slabs – cf. Kar. Kaz., Figs. 67 (banquet, Group (B)); 71 (4-winged genius (A) and large Bes (A?)); 80 (goat-bearer (A)); and 84 (sphinx (B)). Note that reliefs of both groups contain text; therefore they were all set in place before the text was carved. The sequence of the HL inscription on the North Gate is further not continuous: it jumps around three corners of the inner Gate Chamber, thence to the Entrance Passage and back to the Chamber (for a diagram locating inscriptions in relation to the reliefs, cf. Bossert, H. Th., “Die Phön.-Hethitischen Bilinguen von Karatepe: 5. Fortsetzung”, JKF II (1952–1954), 304–5Google Scholar, and J. D. Hawkins, “Karatepe” to be published in RLA, V). No satisfactory explanation for this discontinuity has yet been offered. Whether it represents a disordered initial installation of some pre-carved slabs by non-literate builders or a subsequent shifting within the Gate Chamber only further architectural or stratigraphic data will determine. Although the latter alternative would necessitate at least two phases within the Chamber, still, as noted, both sets of reliefs must have been in existence at the time of the original inscribing and installation.

⁵⁰ Çambel, Karatepe Kazıları, Figs. 83, 86, 93 and 94.

⁵¹ The general haphazard arrangement of the orthostats at Karatepe finds a good parallel on Tell Halaf in the Palace of Kapara, which has led to similar (and generally accepted) suggestions of a secondary context at the latter site also (cf. Orthmann, , USK, pp. 119–123Google Scholar and Mellink, , AJA 62, p. 439Google Scholar). It is clear nevertheless that some attempt has been made to create parallel themes in the two groups at Karatepe, such as, for example, the two seated figures on either side of the entrance to the South Gate, one in style (A), the other in style (B), suggesting that the earlier reliefs were used as a reference by the later sculptors. It should be noted that Alkım pointed to just such a possibility when he uncovered the “pre-Azatiwatas” levels at Domuztepe, stating that this new information raised new questions concerning the chronological sequence of the sculpture at Karatepe, with its different styles (“The Fifth Season's Work at Karatepe”, Belleten XIV (1950), 681Google Scholar). Ussishkin also remarked upon the multiple styles, and how this could be interpreted as the re-using of older reliefs together with others newly carved, however he then set aside this problem, as he felt that all of the works seemed to agree with a 9th century date (AS XIX, p. 12Google Scholar). In the previous discussion, it will be noted that where I disagree with Ussishkin's stylistic analyses, it is with the portal sculptures and group (B), not with group (A).

⁵² Cf. Bossert, and Alkım, , Karatepe, Second Preliminary Report, p. 28Google Scholar, and contour map, Belleten XII, Pl. CXVI: Fig. 2c.

⁵³ Bossert, et al. , Karatepe Kazıları, pp. 64–71Google Scholar; and Alkım, U. B., “The Results of Recent Excavations at Domuztepe”, Belleten XVI (1952), 238–250Google Scholar.

⁵⁴ Ibid., pp. 242–248; Karatepe Kazıları, p. 67; and Alkım, U. B., “Karatepe: Fourth Campaign”, Belleten XIV (1950), 656Google Scholar.

⁵⁵ Belleten XVI, Figs. 18, 19, 24 and 25.

⁵⁶ Ibid., pp. 246–7; and cf. Orthmann, USK, Pl. 61d (= AiS III, Pl. XLVI). The relief lion can best be compared to the Zincirli double-lion statue base, also of the 9th century (USK. Pl. 62a).

⁵⁷ Karatepe Kazıları, Fig. 133 and drawing, Fig. 138; Belleten XVI, Fig. 26.

⁵⁸ Orthmann, USK, Pl. 26a and e, and Pls. 60b and 62a and b.

⁵⁹ Karatepe Kazıları, Figs. 139–144.

⁶⁰ Orthmann, USK, Pl. 25e, and Pls. 27c and 32e.

⁶¹ Cf. Karatepe Kazıları, Figs. 151, 153, 154, 157, as compared to USK, Pls. 55c, 59g, 58a.

⁶² Belleten XVI, p. 243 and Figs. 11 and 12, compared to Orthmann, USK, Pls. 21c, 30e, 57a–e.

⁶³ Cf. the two reliefs cited above, as well as one of a four-winged griffin-demon below a winged sun-disc: Karatepe Kazıları, Fig. 71 (= USK, Pl. 15d).

⁶⁴ Belleten XVI, p. 249Google Scholar.

⁶⁵ Cf. Belleten XVI, Figs. 16, 17 and 31; Alkim notes, p. 245, that he has found mixed Roman, Hellenistic and Iron-Age sherds below these walls – so there is no clear evidence that level A is even Iron Age.

⁶⁶ Ibid., loc. cit.

⁶⁷ Ibid., Figs. 33–35.

⁶⁸ Cf. von Luschan, F., Ausgrabungen in Sendschirli V, Berlin, 1943, Pls. 17a, 18c–hCrossRefGoogle Scholar; Goldman, H., Excavations at Gözlü Kule, Tarsus, Vol. III, Princeton, 1963, Nos. 326, 378–383, 634, 684Google Scholar; Delaporte, L., “La ville et le pays de Malatia”, and “Malatia: Céramique du Hittite récent”, RHA II (1932–1934) 129–154 and 257–285Google Scholar, and Pls. M28:8, M30:13, M31:12. For Cypriote and cyprianizing elements, cf. Goldman, , Tarsus IIIGoogle Scholar, Nos. 318 and 333 (Early Iron), and 529, 560, 587, 593 and 667 (Middle Iron).

⁶⁹ Alkım, , Belleten XIV, pp. 650Google Scholar, note 6 and 655–656; also, Belleten XVI, p. 247Google Scholar.

⁷⁰ Alkım, , Belleten XIV, p. 681Google Scholar.

⁷¹ Alkım, U. B., “Onbir mevsimlik Karatepe Kazılarının mimarlık sonucçlarına toplu bir bakış”, V. Turk Tarih Kongresi, Ankara, April 12–17, 1956 (Türk Tarih Kurumu Yayınlarından, IX. Serie, No. 5), Ankara, 1960, Pls. XXVII: 1 and 2 and XXIX: 5Google Scholar.

⁷² Alkım, U. B., “Karatepe: Seventh Campaign”, Belleten XVI (1952), 622Google Scholar.

⁷³ Alkım, V. Türk Tarih Kongresi, Pl. XXVIII, 3–4. A manuscript on the small finds, including pottery, has been submitted by Muhibbe Darga to the T. T. Kurumu, but has not yet appeared.

⁷⁴ Ibid., pp. 75–76.

⁷⁵ Cf. Tarsus III, Nos. 318, 359, 366–7, 524; also AiS V, Pl. 17a.

⁷⁶ Cf. above, fn. 49.

⁷⁷ Karatepe Kazıları, p. 58. Professor Çambel and I have discussed the question of the duplicate blocks. They are both of the (A) group – calf-bearer and warriors. Full discussion must await her forthcoming publication; however, since there also exist duplicate Bes reliefs – both used in the installation – I do not feel at this point that damage and duplication necessarily imply carving on the spot.

⁷⁸ Belleten XIII (1949) 373Google Scholar; Karatepe Kazıları, p. 69; and photographs and discussion in Alkım, Belleten XVI, p. 244Google Scholar and Figs. 13–15a.

⁷⁹ By the 11th season, Alkım noted that there seemed to be three architectural levels at Karatepe (cf. TTK Yayınlarından IX: 5, p. 76Google Scholar), the earliest consisting of post-holes and remains of wood huts (?) directly on virgin rock. He asserts that at one point, under the East tower of the North Gate, after the stone flooring was lifted, it was observed that a piece of wall of level 2 cut through one of the early rock holes, thus confirming the stratigraphic sequence. Unfortunately, nothing further has been published since that time.

⁸⁰ Alkım, U. B., “Karatepe Kazısının Arkeolojik Sonuçları”, Belleten XII (1948) Pl. CXIV: 2a and CXVI:2cGoogle Scholar.

⁸¹ Alkım, , Belleten XIVGoogle Scholar, Pl. LXVII:13.

⁸² Belleten XIV, p. 656Google Scholar and Belleten XII, Pl. CXVII:3.

⁸³ Belleten XIV, Pl. LXVII:13.

⁸⁴ Bossert, and Alkım, , Karatepe: Second Preliminary Report, p. 28Google Scholar.

⁸⁵ In a way, this makes Azatiwatas's closing words regarding the future of his gates all the more poignant, as he warns against the consequences if anyone wipes out the name of Azatiwatas from the gate and put his own name, or destroy it in any way (segm. LIX ff.). Such practices must have occurred in antiquity or there would hardly have been any need to inveigh against them in standard curse formulae, and this concern becomes even more germane if, as we have argued, Azatiwatas himself had actually dismantled Domuztepe.

⁸⁶ Donner, H. and Röllig, W., Kanaanäische und Aramäische Inschriften, Wiesbaden, 1962–1964, no. 26Google Scholar (this line occurs only in the Phoenician text; the hieroglyphic text of §§ XLI–XLVII has apparently been lost, though once was at least partially available to Bossert – information courtesy of J. D. Hawkins).

⁸⁷ Ussishkin, for example (AS XIX, p. 133Google Scholar), in his discussion of the likelihood of artistic relations between the two sites, makes a point of mentioning that Zincirli was situated “merely c. 25 miles (38 km.) from Karatepe”. However in fact, the distance between Zincirli and Karatepe, while it may be 38 km. as the crow flies, is at least 65 km. by road over the mountains. Alkım, in his extensive studies of the ancient and modern road systems in Cilicia, has further noted that the Amanus would have served as a strong natural barrier between Sam'al and the west, despite the fact that there were accessible passes (cf. Alkım, U. B., “The Road from Sam'al to Asitawandawa: Contributions to the Historical Geography of the Amanus Region”, Anadolu Araştırmaları II, 1–2 (1965) 1–41Google Scholar and esp. pp. 2–3 (= Turkish version in Belleten XXIV (1960) 349–401).

⁸⁸ Ibid., Map 2. Further, settlement patterns in the Cilician Plain reflect this in the distribution of first millennium sites along the east–west routes, as they follow a quite clear line from Osmaniye to Ceyhan, Misis and Adana (cf. Seton-Williams, M. V., “Cilician Survey”, AS IV (1954) Fig. 5 and p. 136Google Scholar).

⁸⁹ Alkım, , Belleten XIV, pp. 658–659Google Scholar.

⁹⁰ Alkım, U. B., “Third Season's Work at Karatepe”, Belleten XIII (1949) 373Google Scholar.

⁹¹ Alkım, , Belleten XIV, p. 659Google Scholar.

⁹² Cf. Ussishkin, , AS XIX, pp. 124, 137Google Scholar, and Donner-Röllig, KAI, no. 24.

⁹³ Cf. Landsberger, B., Sam'al, Istanbul, 1947, p. 42Google Scholar; Frankfort, H., Art and Architecture of the Ancient Orient, 4th edition, Baltimore, 1970, p. 164Google Scholar; and discussion by Ussishkin, , AS XIX, p. 123Google Scholar.

⁹⁴ Donner-Röllig, KAI, no. 214.

⁹⁵ Albright, W. F., “Northeast Mediterranean Dark Ages and the Early Iron Age Art of Syria”, in The Aegean and the Near East: Studies presented to Hetty Goldman, Weinberg, S., ed., Locust Valley, 1956, pp. 146–7Google Scholar.

^95a Could it even be speculated that since Que and Sam'al were united in a coalition against Assyria in 858, this marks the time when Domuztepe was thriving and stylistic parallels in the portal lions of Domuztepe with those of Zincirli were so strong? At that time, as discussed by Hallo, W. W. (“From Qarqar to Carchemish”, Bibl. Arch. 23 (1960), 38Google Scholar), the northern coalition was specifically disputing Shalmaneser III's march toward Cilicia and his control of the strategic routes into Asia Minor. Some time after that would be when Kilamua changed sides and “hired” the king of Assyria against the Danuna (presumably the same peoples as those mentioned in Azatiwatas' text). Could the use of Phoenician in Kilamua's inscription be therefore less a reflection of the fact that Aramaean was not yet written than of Sam'al's previous ties to Que, where as we have seen from the reliefs of group (A), elements of Phoenician influence were already apparent and attest to Phoenician activity in Cilicia by that time?

^95b Jonas Greenfield further argues (in the Festschrift, H. L. Ginsburg, Eretz Israel 14 (1978) 74–77Google Scholar, in Hebrew, that even the imagery in the text (such as § XXII (called by Greenfield I, 16–17), re putting the enemy under the feet of Azatiwatas) has parallels in the egyptianizing iconography of Phoenician art.

^95c This notwithstanding, there certainly is apparent parallel phrasing in the Kilamua and Azatiwatas inscriptions, as Ussishkin has pointed out; however, in fact, similar parallelism can also be noted between the Karatepe text and that of Ahiram of Byblos, dated to c. 1000 (cf. Galling, K., “Die Achiram-Inschrift im Lichte der Karatepe-texte”, WO I (1950), 421–424Google Scholar), so that it would seem what is implied is a long-standing tradition in formal or public phraseology, rather than any necessary contemporaneity on the basis of such occurrences.

⁹⁶ This leaves us with the problem that some of the Phoenician elements we observed on the reliefs of group (A) are not attested this early elsewhere in the Phoenician repertoire. However, the presence of the bud-and-lotus garland on the sarcophagus of Ahiram leads us to suggest that this may not be a problem. Since the Kilamua inscription found at Zincirli was, after all, written in Phoenician in the 9th century, it should not be impossible to see Phoenician influence in art at the same time, despite our present lack of securely dated material. And if the present construct of an early date for group (A) and the Domuztepe reliefs does prove correct, this will become in fact the first concrete archaeological evidence for Phoenician activity in the northeastern Mediterranean outside of Cyprus at that time, and the first well-dated corpus of artistic motifs (activity perhaps anticipated in the O.T. account of Solomon receiving horses of Que (I Kgs. 10:28, 29; II Chron. I:16–17), as one would assume this trade would to some extent have been undertaken in partnership with and reflect Solomon's close relationship with Phoenicia, as did his sea-ventures to Ophir). It is hoped that further evidence may now become easier to accumulate, as soundings at Tyre itself begin to give us finer chronological distinctions in Phoenician pottery wares (cf. Bikai, P., “The Late Phoenician Pottery Complex and Chronology”, BASOR 229 (1978), 47–56Google Scholar).

^96a I would argue against Phoenician craftsmen at Karatepe, however; rather the assimilation by local stone carvers of a number of Phoenician elements. To use but one illustration: on the reliefs of two men opposite a central tree from Domuztepe and Karatepe, the tree consists of stacked volute arms with a palm fan at the top. The arms are separated into independent elements, and the usual palm-fronds are replaced by a complete palmette plant (as described above, p. 121). The palmette in that particular form is a standard Phoenician element, and is usually represented on its own, as an abbreviated form of the tree; but here, in a quite un-Phoenician adaptation, it has been added to crown the top of the larger tree. This suggests that the carver of the blocks was putting together two different and usually unrelated elements and thus has produced a hybrid that would not be found at the hand of a Phoenician sculptor.

^96b Cf. Xenophon, , Anabasis, I:4Google Scholar.

⁹⁷ Goldman, , Tarsus III, p. 110Google Scholar and sherds, Nos. 651–659 and 670 ∥ pp. 122 and 131 and sherds, Nos. 1058 and 1068–1075.

⁹⁸ Houwink ten Cate, P., The Luwian Population Groups of Lycia and Cilicia Aspera during the Hellenistic Period, Leiden, 1961, pp. 42–43Google Scholar; Goetze, , JCS XVI, pp. 53ffGoogle Scholar.

⁹⁹ Seen also in the relative amounts of Phoenician and Assyrian pottery at Tarsus (cf. reference, fn. 97).

^99a This was true not only of our period. The Romans were careful to distinguish Cilicia from both Cappadocia to the northeast and Syria to the east, and make of it a separate province (cf. Franck, L., “Sources classiques concernant la Cappadoce”, RHA XXIV (1966), 12 and 19Google Scholar, with reference to Ptolemy V:6, 1 and V:7, 1; and to Strabo XII, 6.1 and XIV, 5.1). The territory was further disputed by Seleucids and Ptolemys as “open territory” because of its ambiguous position (cf. Jones, A. H. M., The Cities of the Eastern Roman Provinces, Oxford, 1937 p. 199Google Scholar).

¹⁰⁰ For the Greek penetration of Cilicia, see the discussion in Boardman, J., “Tarsus, Al-Mina and Chronology”, JHS 85 (1965) 5–15CrossRefGoogle Scholar.

¹⁰¹ Winter, , Iraq XXXVIII, pp. 21–22Google Scholar; cf. also the reference in Tadmor, H., “Assyria and the West: The Ninth Century and its Aftermath”, in Unity and Diversity, Goedicke, H. and Roberts, J. M., eds., Baltimore, 1975, p. 38Google Scholar.

¹⁰² Dupont-Sommer, A., “Deux nouvelles inscriptions sémitiques trouvées en Cilicie”, JKF I (1950/1951), 43–47Google Scholar.

¹⁰³ I would even be willing to speculate that the Phoenician and Greek presences in Cilicia were in relatively distinct spheres: the Greek colonies and settlements located more to the west (Soloi, Tarsus, etc.) and the Phoenicians more to the east (Myriandis, etc.), so that the “Akyol” would have represented the “Phoenician” route, with perhaps other passes more used by the Greeks, or perhaps the Greeks less actively engaged in pursuing resources inland as opposed to receiving them at the coast. While we do not have exact information as to where the Phoenician installations on the coast were situated, it is interesting to note the clustering of sites from Misis south to the coast, as determined in Seton-Williams' survey (cf. above, fn. 88), in conjunction with the fact that the Gulf of Alexandretta was called by Herodotus the “Myriandic Gulf” – after the supposed name of the Phoenician colony in Cilicia. The eastern route up the Cilician plain could then have bypassed Greek strongholds, such as Tarsus, and even bypassed Adana, heading directly north.

¹⁰⁴ Three copies exist of the Phoenician text from Karatepe – one inscribed on a statue fallen from its base inside the North Gate; the other two found one on each side of the North and South Gates, respectively. The two copies of the hieroglyphic Luwian text were inscribed on the opposite sides of each Gate and at the inside corners of the North Gate Chamber – often encroaching on adjacent relief orthostats and along the plinth below the figured blocks, as noted above, fn. 49. The nature of the relationship between Azatiwatas and Awarikus is not without precedent in Cilicia. As pointed out by Bing, J. D. (“A History of Cilicia during the Assyrian Period”, PhD dissertation, Indiana University, 1969, p. 45Google Scholar), at the time of Shalmaneser III, there is a reference to one Tulli of the city of Tanakun, a vassal of Kate of Que but equally resident in the Cilician plain (cf. AR I, § 583Google Scholar).

¹⁰⁵ Cf. above, fn. 92.

¹⁰⁶ Luckenbill, , AR I, §§ 577, 582, 583Google Scholar; and on the possible fourth campaign of Shalmaneser III to Que, cf. now, Grayson, A. K., “Studies in Neo-Assyrian History: the Ninth Century B.C.”, Bibl. Or. XXXIII (1976) 141Google Scholar and note 57. For Adad-nirari III, cf. Millard, A. R. and Tadmor, H., “Adad-nirari III in Syria”, Iraq XXXV (1973) 57–64CrossRefGoogle Scholar; Tadmor, H., “The Historical Inscriptions of Adad-nirari III”, Iraq XXXV (1973) 141–150CrossRefGoogle Scholar; and the as yet unpublished stelae in the Maraş, Museum (from Pazarcık) and in the Antakya Museum, from the texts of which it is evident that Adad-nirari was involved in establishing the borders between Kummuḫ and Gurgum/Maraş and between Arpad and Lu^cash respectively during his reign (cf. references to the Pazarcık stela in Hawkins, J. D., Review of Orthmann, W., USK, ZA 63 (1974) 309–310Google Scholar, and “Assyrians and Hittites”, AS XXXVI (1974) 74 and 80Google Scholar).

¹⁰⁷ Cf. discussion, Ussishkin, , AS XIX, p. 122Google Scholar, and since then, Hawkins, , ZA 63, p. 311Google Scholar.

¹⁰⁸ Cf. e.g., Wilson, J. V. Kinnier, “The Kurba'il Statue of Shalmaneser III”, Iraq XXIV (1962), p. 96Google Scholar, Pls. 31–34.

¹⁰⁹ Landsberger, , Sam'al, p. 65Google Scholar, and the text of the inscription, Donner-Röllig, KAI, No. 214.

¹¹⁰ Cf. Donner-Röllig, , KAI, Vol. II, p. 209Google Scholar and the comments by Millard, A. R., “Alphabetic Inscriptions on Ivories from Nimrud”, Iraq XXIV (1962), 43Google Scholar, and in Millard, and Tadmor, , Iraq XXXV, p. 64Google Scholar. On the reading of Zakur, see now Millard, A. R., “Epigraphic notes, Aramaean and Hebrew”, PEQ 110 (1978), 23CrossRefGoogle Scholar.

¹¹¹ Cf. Saggs, H. W. F., “The Nimrud Letters, 1952 — Part II: Relations with the West”, Iraq XVII (1955) 145Google Scholar.

¹¹² Luckenbill, , AR I, §§ 769, 772, 801Google Scholar; Donner-Röllig, KAI, Nos. 215, 216, 217.

¹¹³ Cf. on this Kestemont, G., “Le commerce phénicien et l'expansion assyrienne du IX^e–VII^e siècle”, Or. Antiquus II (1972) 143Google Scholar.

¹¹⁴ Postgate, J. N., “Assyrian Texts and Fragments”, Iraq XXXV (1973), esp. pp. 21–34Google Scholar.

¹¹⁵ Ibid., pp. 22–23, 11.3–9.

¹¹⁶ Certainly by the time of Sargon, Que is functioning as an Assyrian province (Luckenbill, , AR II, §§ 16, 25Google Scholar), although it should be noted that we are not told where the Assyrian governor was residing. Na'aman has discussed the question in his article on “Quwe” in the Encyclopedia Mikra'it VII, Jerusalem, 1976Google Scholar, Cols. 89–90, and according to Tadmor, a similar situation occurred in Ashdod, where the king and an Assyrian governor apparently co-existed in Philistia (“Philistia under Assyrian Rule”, Bibl. Arch. 29 (1966) esp. p. 95Google Scholar).

¹¹⁷ Cf. Millard, , Iraq XXIVGoogle Scholar, cited in fn. 110. This is apparently confirmed by the unpublished stele of Adad-nirari III in the Antakya Museum (for which information I am indebted to J. D. Hawkins).

¹¹⁸ This was in fact suggested by Lévy, in La Nouvelle Clio I–II, cited above, fn. 4.

¹¹⁹ Luckenbill, , AR II, § 18Google Scholar.

¹²⁰ Cf. discussion by Postgate regarding the Nimrud Letter No. 39 re Mita of Muški and the intercepted delegation of Urikki, esp. pp. 32–33, and earlier by Smith, Sidney in the CAH, Vol. III, pp. 54–56Google Scholar.

¹²¹ Luckenbill, , AR II, § 118Google Scholar.

¹²² Bing, dissertation (n. 104), p. 67 and pp. 89f.

¹²³ Luckenbill, , AR II, § 43Google Scholar.

¹²⁴ I am grateful to Nadav Na'aman, Tel Aviv University, for drawing my attention to this point. Cf. especially, Ahituv, S., “New Documents Pertaining to Deportation as a Political System in Ancient Egypt”, Beer-Sheba I (1973) 87–89Google Scholar (in Hebrew).

¹²⁵ Cf. Wiseman, D. J., “A New Stele of Aššur-naṣir-pal II”, Iraq XIV (1952), 24–44CrossRefGoogle Scholar.

¹²⁶ E.g., Luckenbill, , AR II, § 8Google Scholar. And cf. on this, Oded, B., “Mass Deportation in the Neo-Assyrian Empire – Facts and Figures”, Eretz-Israel 14Google Scholar, H. L. Ginsburg Festschrift (1978), 62–68 (in Hebrew), + English summary, pp. 124–125.

¹²⁷ Ibid., §§ 25, 55.

¹²⁸ Cf. on this, Houwink ten Cate, , Luwian Population Groups, pp. 19–23Google Scholar and Hawkins, J. D., “Hilakku”, in RLA IV:6/7 (1975) pp. 402–403Google Scholar.

¹²⁹ Naster, P., L'Asie Mineure et l'Assyrie …, Louvain, 1938, pp. 56–7 and 87fGoogle Scholar (esp. 98–99). See also CAH III (1929), pp. 53, 117 and 188–189Google Scholar, for a general account of the appearance and activities of the Cimmerians in Asia Minor; and now, Cogan, M. and Tadmor, H., “Gyges and Ashurbanipal”, Orientalia 46 (1977), 65–85Google Scholar with regard to the later phases, and the eventual destruction of Lydia by the Cimmerians.

¹³⁰ AS XIX, p. 122Google Scholar. This would not only not be impossible; in fact, it is more desirable than putting another Awarikus back into the 9th century, for the pattern in other Neo-Hittite states for the repetition of dynastic names is that they usually follow within one or two generations, as would be the case here, rather than with large gaps of over 100 years (cf. the two Suḫi's at Carchemish – Hawkins, , Iraq XXXVI, p. 70Google Scholar; the three Halparuntiya's at Maraş/Gurgum – ibid., pp. 73–74; the two Lubarna's of Patina from accounts of Assurnasirpal II and Shalmaneser III, yr. 25 – AR I, §§ 477, 585Google Scholar; and even the two Panammu's of Sam'al, who are separated by at most 50 years – cf. Donner-Röllig, KAI, Nos. 214 and 215.

¹³¹ Luckenbill, , AR I, §§ 364 and 383Google Scholar. Mellink also noted that Azatiwatas could have begun his building activities at Karatepe between 696 and 689, in the reign of Sennacherib (Bibl. Or. VII, p. 148Google Scholar), but I would question part of the basis of her evidence in suggesting that the artists of Karatepe should have been familiar with the reliefs of the palace of Sennacherib at Nineveh as models for the representation of the Phoenician ship and other motifs. If anything, Karatepe is particularly devoid of Assyrian artistic influence, and it is Sennacherib, rather, who draws heavily on visual material from the West in his art (cf. Winter, I. J., “Art as Evidence of Interaction: Relations between the Neo-Assyrian Empire and North Syria as seen from the Monuments”, in Mesopotamia and its Neighbours: Proceedings of the XXV^e Rencontre Assyriologique Internationale, Berlin, 1978, Nissen, H. J. and Renger, J., eds., Berlin (in press))Google Scholar.

¹³² Goetze, , JCS XVI, p. 53Google Scholar.

¹³³ Laroche, E., “Études sur les hiéroglyphiques Hittites, 7: Une signature d'artistes á Karatepe”, Syria 35 (1958) 275–283Google Scholar; Goetze, ibid., p. 53 n. 45.

¹³⁴ Borger, R., Die Inschriften Asarhaddons Königs von Assyrien [AfO Beiheft 9], Graz, 1956, pp. 49–50Google Scholar, § 27: A. III 20–38.

¹³⁵ Bossert, H. Th., “Die Phönizisch-Hethitischen Bilinguen vom Karatepe: 3. Fortsetzung”, JKF I (1950–1951) 264–295Google Scholar and esp. 290–294, re Misis as the most logical site for Pahri, which name was preserved in the Greek name for the mountain chains called today the Jebel Misis / Misis Daǧ (= παγρικὰ 'όρη).

¹³⁶ Alkım, U. B., Belleten XIII, p. 373Google Scholar, and “Ein altes Wegenetz im südwestlichen Antitaurus-Gebiet”, JKF III'2 (1959) 217–223Google Scholar, and Map I; and cf. also, photographs of the passes, Belleten XIV, Pls. LXXIV:25 and LXXV:26.

^136a It is interesting to note in this regard that immediately after the Assyrian action against Sidon, Esarhaddon's Treaty with Ba'alu of Tyre precisely limited Phoenician trade along the coast as not north of Byblos (cf. Borger, , Asarhaddon, p. 108Google Scholar, § 69: A.III 15–23). It may also be indicative of how restrictive, this treaty was that three years later, Tyre revolted.

¹³⁷ Luckenbill, , AR, II, § 118Google Scholar; and cf. on this, Tadmor, H., “Azriyau of Yaudi”, Scripta Hierosolymitana 8 (1961), 269, n. 91Google Scholar. It is Nadav Na'aman who has directed me to the evidence for the fact that the Sargonid reference is not likely to imply political ties between Tyre and Cilicia so much as mutual disturbances from Ionian pirates, citing ND2370 (Saggs, , Iraq XXV, 76–7Google Scholar) re Ionian raids at the time of Tiglath-pileser III on Tyre, and Sargon Annals 118 as restored by Winckler (Olmstead, , AJSL XLVII, 266Google Scholar) re Ionians slaughtering men of Que; however, if the Yamnaeans in question are not Ionians but Cypriotes, as will be argued in the Helms dissertation cited above, n. 23, then we shall have to re-evaluate the meaning of this mention.

¹³⁸ Although such speculation is far from my own area of expertise (and I am grateful to J. D. Hawkins, H. G. Güterbock and H. Hoffner for helpful suggestions), I wonder whether the name of Azatiwatas might itself be linked with that of Sanduarri. Sanduarri has been generally considered to be a compound formed with the name of the Luwian god Sanda (cf. Laroche, , Les noms des hittites, nos. 1096–1108 and p. 291Google Scholar). Azatiwatas, on the other hand, most probably combines an element Aza- with the god-name Tiwat-, “Loved by Tiwats” (cf. Hawkins, Morpurgo Davies and Neumann, Hittite Hieroglyphs and Luwian, p. 44). However, the dropping of initial a- and the nasalization and rhotacization of dentals are well-established principles which together would fully explain Sanduarri as nothing but a phonetic rendering of the name Azatiwatas (cf. Hawkins, below, p. 156, and for the process of “improper encoding”, Fales, F. M., “On Aramaic Onomastica in the Neo-Assyrian Period”, Or. Ant. XVI (1977), 41–68Google Scholar, especially pp. 55, 57–61).

¹³⁹ Cf., for example, Çambel, , Oriens I, p. 151Google Scholar.

¹⁴⁰ At Hasanlu, in Northwestern Iran, for example, roof-beams destroyed by fire in the destruction of level IVB average about 200 years older than the charred grain and organic materials found in the same buildings – the one being a reflection of the original construction, the other of the latest moment of occupation (published by MASCA, with 5730 half-life and correction factors, in Radiocarbon, March, 1970).

¹⁴¹ Forrer, E., Die Provinzeinteilung des assyrischen Reiches, Leipzig, 1921, pp. 70–71Google Scholar.

¹⁴² Ibid., p. 83: “nach 648”. But cf. Hawkins, below p. 155 and n. 13.

¹⁴³ AR II, §§ 364, 383.

¹⁴⁴ Na'aman, N., “Sennacherib's ‘Letter to God’ on his Campaign to Judah”, BASOR 214 (1974) 32–33Google Scholar and n. 36, with regard to Landsberger, , Sam'al, p. 81fGoogle Scholar.

¹⁴⁵ Alkım, U. B., “An Ancient Road System in the South-western Anti-Taurus”, Belleten XXIII (1959) 74–75Google Scholar, regarding the routes between Maraş and Karatepe. It is also possible that not only in Sennacherib's campaigns against Tarsus and the Amanus states, but also in those against Hilakku, Karatepe could have been in the direct line of march. On an inscribed prism (BM 103.000), Sennacherib describes the campaign of one of his generals against Hilakku and the people of Ingirra and Tarsus, who had blocked off the “road of Que”, stopping traffic. A great deal of discussion has been devoted to the exact location of the territory of Hilakku (cf. Hawkins, , RLA IV, pp. 402–3Google Scholar) and likewise the identity of this particular “road of Que” (cf. Bing, dissertation, p. 99 for bibliography). Personally, I find the logic of any pass being able to be called the road of Que not convincing, as there were always alternative passes across the Amanus, while it is in the western portion, what today is still called the “Cilician Gates”, that the route is marked by a single defile (see on this, Houwink ten Cate, , Luwian Population Groups, p. 25Google Scholar). It is this pass, furthermore, which is best defensible militarily and therefore most able to be blocked by the forces of Tarsus, itself in the west, and Ingirra. Whether Hilakku itself extended the full range of the Taurus to the northeastern edge of the Cilician plain, or whether this part of the mountains was held by Tabal, is not clear – although it is perhaps not unrelated that in 695, immediately after the battles with Que and Hilakku, Sennacherib's army then moved against Tabal (Luckenbill, , AR II, §§ 290–292Google Scholar). The personal names that we have from Hilakku are certainly Luwian (Goetze, , JCS XVI, p. 54Google Scholar, n. 49); and the strategic position of Karatepe with regard to the Taurus passes has been discussed above. So that, wherever Illubru, seat of the Hilakkian rebel Kirua, may have been (cf. Landsberger, Sam'al, p. 17, n. 35, who thinks it ought to be in the region of Adana!), the question must be raised whether Karatepe could have been caught in that conflagration. On the other hand, it is also not impossible that it was these campaigns against Hilakku that brought the Luwian-speaking peoples into eastern Cilicia in the first place, corresponding with the population movements described by Goetze in the late 8th–early 7th century.

¹⁴⁶ Knudtzon, J. A., Assyrische Gebete, Leipzig, 1893, nos. 60–63, pp. 166–167Google Scholar, as cited by Bing, dissertation, p. 134. It is also possible that such concerns are reflected directly in the fact that Esarhaddon deemed it necessary to place a stele recording his victory over Egypt and domination of both Egypt and Tyre at Zincirli in 671 (von Luschan, , AiS IVGoogle Scholar, Pls. I and III; Borger, , Asarhaddon, § 65Google Scholar). The question raised is that of the significance of such stelae to the Assyrian rulers. Esarhaddon set at least three at that time: the one in Sam'al, a second at the Nahr-el-Kalb – virtual doorway to Tyre and thus clearly serving as a propagandistic statement of his power, and a third at Anchiale in Western Cilicia, which has never been found. Since Sam'al had no history of disaffection from Assyria, and had actually provided an Eponym in 681 (Forrer, , Provinzeinteilung, p. 83Google Scholar), it seems rather more likely that – based on the assumption of a propagandistic and message-bearing intent for the stelae – the Zincirli monument was set as a statement beamed over the Amanus; a warning from the starting point of a strategic pass, and at the edge of the area of tight Assyrian control, toward a more problematic region, of what the Assyrian king could do, as had been done to Egypt. That such a warning might have been necessary, and that Que might not have been entirely bound into the Empire even after the campaign of 677, may perhaps be reflected in the fact that there are no eponyms from Que until after 648. And again, it would be interesting to know first how Que and Hilakku were defined geographically in the reign of Esarhaddon; that is, how the Amanus flanks were considered, and what territory was included in Esarhaddon's campaigns against the Hilakkians, “a mountain people, who dwelled in the inaccessible mountains near Tabal, evil Hittites”, whose 'fortified cities along with their small towns” he robbed, plundered, destroyed and burned (Borger, Asarhaddon, p. 51, § 27: A.III 47–55).

^146a Cf. Smith, S., CAH III (1929), pp. 145–6Google Scholar.

¹⁴⁷ Peckham, B., The Development of the Late Phoenician Scripts, Cambridge, Mass., 1968, p. 115Google Scholar, n. 1. Peckham even noted, p. 117, n. 11, that if the reliefs are 9th century, as he cites Barnett as arguing, then still “about a century elapsed before Azatiwatas used the sculptural blocks for his inscription” – and had the foresight to add: “perhaps transporting them from another locality”.

¹⁴⁸ A third possibility, briefly mentioned by Alkım, that the earlier level at Karatepe might have been the original context for Azatiwatas (cf. TTK Yayınlarindan, IX. Serie, No. 5, p. 76), has not been pursued due to lack of published evidence.

¹⁴⁹ Alkım, U. B., “Karatepe: The Seventh Campaign”, Belleten XVI (1952) 621Google Scholar. There is therefore no reason to assume that the modern city of Adana is necessarily the ancient site of Adana; it could be a question, rather, of a later transfer of the name, and we should know more about the archaeological sequence evident at modern Adana before assumptions are made.

¹⁵⁰ Winter, in Nissen and Renger, Mesopotamia and its Neighbours (in press).

^{page 151 note *} There are a number of people without whom this article could not have been written. The kernel of what is included here had been part of my doctoral dissertation (cf. fn. 15), written for Columbia University, New York, in 1973. At the time, I discussed my inclinations toward the later date with David Ussishkin. His devil's advocacy has been much appreciated, as our differences in perspective on the same material have never gotten in the way of our exchanges and friendship. Then, in July of 1974, as part of a travel grant from the Research Foundation of the City University of New York, I was fortunate to visit Karatepe in the company of J. D. Hawkins and my brother, Fred Winter, who brought my attention to the Greek parallels for the ship relief, helmets, etc. During that visit, and in ensuing conversations, the idea of working further on this material (and particularly on the Phoenician and Greek ties there manifest) was born. I owe much to the subsequent encouragement of David Hawkins that it has been done at all. At the end of that summer, I had the privilege of discussing some of the problems of the road systems in eastern Cilicia with Professor Bahadir Alkım, which became an integral part of the present study. Then in 1976, again supported by the Research Fund of CUNY, I was able to look at the Tarsus pottery in the Adana Museum, generously made available by the Museum's Director, Dr O. Aytug Taşyürek, and to meet Professor Halet Çambel in Istanbul. The debt I owe her is great, not only in her scholarly generosity of encouraging thoughts on Karatepe at the same time as she is engaged in the final publication of the reliefs, the restoration of which has been a labour of painstaking care these many years; but also in the realm of personal kindness. Finally, many of the historical points were discussed during the summer of 1977 in Jerusalem with Professors Hayim Tadmor and Nadav Na'aman, for whose insights and measured criticisms I am most grateful. Thus, the thoughts of many individuals have gone into the present paper. I must release them from any responsibility for its weaknesses, but most heartily thank them for contributing to its strengths.

Credits for the maps and photographs are as follows:

Fig. 1: Yuval Portugali.

Figs. 2 and 3: Betti Goren.

Pls. XVd, XVIa, XVIIa, XVIIIc, XIXa, XXa: courtesy of Halet Çambel, Karatepe Project.

Pl. XVIb: Vorderasiatische Abteilung, Staatliche Museen zu Berlin.

Pl. XVIIb: courtesy Director of Antiquities, The Cyprus Museum.

Pl. XVIIIb: courtesy Professor Edith Porada.

Pl. XVIIId: Trustees, The British Museum.