Battle of Kadesh
In 1274 BC, the young Egyptian pharaoh Rameses II led an army of 20,000 against 50,000 troops from the Hittite Empire. 3,000 years ago, the Levant was the crossroads of the ancient world, where trade routes for metals from the West merged with trade routes for spices from the East. At this convergence of three continents lay the area of modern-day Syria, a region unable to establish a state of its own and defend itself, hence making a prime target for the superpowers of the time to compete for. Kadesh happened to lie precisely on the border where the mighty Egyptian and Hittite empires met. To both superpowers, Kadesh represented a critical asset, controlling trade access from Egypt in the south to the Hittite lands in the north. This historical battle is amazingly well documented, largely thanks to Rameses II’s self-glorifying reliefs and carvings found throughout his former territory.
The Egyptian Empire was firmly rooted in the fertile corridor of the Nile, dependent on the river for their sustenance. The military exploits of Seti I, Rameses II’s father, managed to expand the empire into the Levant in the late 1200s BC and capture Kadesh, only for it to fall back into Hittite hands. Ramsees II, a young, extremely ambitions man desperate to prove himself to both the gods and the Egyptian people, took on the task of reestablishing Egyptian rule in Kadesh once and for all. To the North lay the Hittite Empire, led by King Muwatalli, whose father had clashed with Rameses’ predecessor over the Syrian territory in the past. Seeing imminent conflict in Rameses’ northward campaign, in May 1274 BC Muwatalli rounded up numerous allies from the upper Levant and staged his forces outside the city of Kadesh.
Rameses army consisted of 20,000 troops divided into four main corps, known as Amun, Re, Seth, and Ptah. The Egyptian infantry was 16,000 strong, and 2,000 chariots accounted for another 4,000 men. Muwatalli’s forces were about 50,000 strong, although in a twist of fate, the 11,000 troops that made up the chariotry would end up being the only warriors from the Hittite side to engage in combat.
The first exchange of the battle took place when two Bedouins were encountered by Rameses’ Amun core, which head set out ahead of the rest of the forces. Upon questioning, they informed the Egyptian troops that the Hittites were still days away from reaching the city, leading the Egyptians to believe that they could camp outside Kadesh in peace, and face the Hittites fully prepared and rested. While the Amun set up camp along the Orontes River outside the city, a pair of Hittite scouts was captured, and under physical torture before the Pharaoh they cracked and revealed the actual location of Muwatalli’s forces. To Rameses’ horror, the Hittites were lying in wait in the wooded grove just to the other side of the river. Blinded by his lust for victory, the Pharaoh’s Amun division had left the other three corps lagging behind in the south, leaving only a quarter of his men to face the enemy.
Not even bothering to saddle his horse, Rameses’ messenger took off to warn the remainder of the Egyptian army of the impending attack. Before the whole army could assemble, the Hittite chariots stormed across the Orontes and charged the Egyptian Re division, currently making its way up from the south, from its eastern flank, using the element of surprise as well as their heavy mass of their chariots to decimate the Re. What was left of the Re corps fled to up to the Amun camp, having been caught off completely off guard by the Hittites, who now turned around and made a beeline for the camp itself. Crashing through the camp, the Hittite chariots caught the Egyptians by surprise again, this time dispersing Rameses’ own Amun division. Basking in their double victory, the Hittites grew complacent and careless, letting down their guard to loot and pillage the ravaged Egyptian camp.
Rameses seized this opportunity to launch a valiant counterattack. Making a quick prayer to his god and rounding up what was left of his Re and Amun divisions, he charged the Hittites as they collected their booty from his camp. Having left the massive infantry division far behind in their haste, the Hittite charioteers soon found themselves completely overwhelmed. Using the exemplary maneuverability of the more compact and lightweight Egyptian chariots, Rameses II’s forces managed to gain the upper hand. Long-range targets were taken out by the Pharaoh’s expert marksmen with their high-power composite bows, while at close range, Egyptian troops with sickle-swords subdued the Hittites as their heavy, clumsy chariots struggled to maneuver out of the all the wreckage.
Seeing the carnage across the river, Muwatalli deployed another team of chariots to the Egyptian camp, only to be met by the arrival of Rameses’ reserve unit, which had been making its way up along the Mediterranean coast. In the end, according to depictions on the walls of the Ramesseum, the Pharoah’s troops drove all the Hittite forces back across the river, but failed to penetrate the city of Kadesh, leaving the battle’s victors disputed until today. Egyptian sources suggest a victory for Rameses, while skeptics dismiss such claims as simple propaganda and consider the outcome inconclusive. The empires’ future together is documented by a Hittite-Egyptian peace treaty dating to 1259 BC, signed by Muwatalli’s successor Hattusilis III and Ramses II. Along with Rameses’ marriage to Hattusili III’s daughters, the treaty appears to have maintained a stable relationship between the two superpowers until the Hittite Empire’s collapse some 80 years later.
Widely regarded as the first battle in history to be recorded in such detail, it provides valuable insight into human nature and military strategy in spite of its lackluster outcome. Two young rulers set out to earn their place in history books, and in their eagerness to prove themselves to their people and their gods, they both made several critical oversteps which ended up depriving either one of a definitive victory. Thanks to diligent ancient records, their valiant undertaking remains literally etched in stone over 3,000 years late for scholars and soldiers alike to indulge.