# Talk:Ankh

Ahem. There is a blue version at File:Ankh_(SVG)_blu.svg. Thanks. -Inowen (nlfte) 03:27, 9 October 2018 (UTC)

Determined to have a more colorful lead image, eh? Can't hurt. I've replaced the black version with the blue. A. Parrot (talk) 00:19, 10 October 2018 (UTC)

Who wants evidence that ankh is a symbol of claviceps paspali. Who dares to hide the truth? Mitja Fistrić (talk) 13:03, 27 June 2019 (UTC)
-- Wow, that was just amazing channeling - I was just searching for symbol meaning after I've heard and experienced some connection between Ancient Egypt and mushrooms and I've checked Wikipedia just in time when you have announced your view about the meaning of the symbol. Amazing. Do you have any contact where I can get in touch with you. I would be indeed interested in your story or facts :). Oh another amazing thing, I am also from Slovenia. - Perhaps you can just come tomorrow to Štarpedov Rod :)  — Preceding unsigned comment added by 93.103.210.74 (talk) 18:08, 27 June 2019 (UTC) 

@Mitja Fistrić: Wikipedia is based on reliable, scholarly sources (see the page Wikipedia:Identifying reliable sources for details), and it must represent claims in proportion to their presence in the scholarly community (see Wikipedia:Due weight). In researching the Egyptological literature about the ankh, I have never come across the hypothesis that it represents a claviceps fungus, so unless you can find a significant number of scholars who support this hypothesis, the article should not include it. A. Parrot (talk) 23:54, 27 June 2019 (UTC)

This review is transcluded from Talk:Ankh/GA1. The edit link for this section can be used to add comments to the review.
Reviewer: Amitchell125 (talk · contribs) 13:10, 10 September 2019 (UTC)

I'm happy to review the article. Amitchell125 13:10, 10 September 2019 (UTC)


### Assessment
#### Lead section
Links: art leads to the article on ancient Egyptian art, not 'Art' (ditto deities, afterlife) - I would amend the text so that the links matched it;
Done.
Link for 'cross' - I would remove the link for cross - it's a common word;
Done.
Changed Goth to 'goth' (as is done in the article 'Goth subculture').
Done.
Bardillo p. 167 discusses the evolution of the ankh, which eventually becomes known as the crux anksata. I'm not sure that the latter be in bold within the lead section, which implies they are both the same thing, when they are not. What do you think?
I'm not sure either. I was following the practice of the preexisting article, which goes all the way back to 2008—crux ansata does redirect here, after all. It's a real on-the-fence case, but unless the crux ansata is split out into its own article, it may be best to keep the bold text. If you want it removed, though, I have no objection.
Its use continued through the Coptic Egyptians who adapted it as the crux ansata, a variant of the Christian cross with a circular loop similar to the ankh's oval one. - perhaps if this whole sentence was moved to the end of the section, and given its own little paragraph, it would make it clearer that the two symbols are not identical.
I did something similar in the earliest uploaded version of the rewrite, but another editor moved crux ansata up into the first paragraph, probably on the belief that bold text should appear at the beginning of the lead. Maybe it should go back to the old arrangement but with the bold text removed. A. Parrot (talk) 19:31, 15 September 2019 (UTC)
Happy with that. Amitchell125 (talk) 19:57, 15 September 2019 (UTC)


#### Use in writing
I would suggest that links are needed for: honorific; and Egyptologists ('Egyptology').
Done.


#### Origins
the was staff - rename as Was-sceptre, as is done in the Wikipedia article (unless it's wrong there!).
Done.
amend link to ka so it lnks to 'Ancient_Egyptian_conception_of_the_soul#kꜣ_"double"';
Is the spelling 'ka' OK? - it appears to be 'kꜣ', if you follow the link I mentioned above.
It depends whether you want a transcription into a readable word, or a technical transliteration. Given that ꜣ, the Egyptological alef, isn't supported by a lot of browsers, and that the transcribed ka appears very commonly in Egyptological works (almost as commonly as "ankh"), I prefer to transcribe it.
Agreed.
...argue that the origin of the ankh... - the prose would be improved if you removed the date, to keep the sentence consistently within the present tense.
Done.
The date given for the First Dynasty needs a citation.
A citation is also needed for the text covering Loret's theory.
It's cited to Gordon and Schwabe, who discuss Loret's hypothesis before advocating their own. Loret's article can be found online ([1]), but it's inconvenient because it's in French, which I can't really read.


#### Use in religion and art
Amulets shaped like a composite of the ankh, djed, and was were more widespread - The words 'was' and 'were' are currently adjacent, which reads strangely - consider improving the prose by rearranging, perhaps as 'Amulets shaped like the was, and a composite of the ankh, the djed, were more widespread.'
I rearranged it differently, but "was" and "were" no longer appear together.
Andrews p. 86 - there does not appear to be a reference to the was or the djed here.
That's weird. In my copy it says: "Although it is constantly depicted carried by royalty and deities, and being offered to their faces, actual individual ankh amulets are surprisingly few; the shape is more commonly found in composite amulets formed from the djed, was and ankh combined, signifying 'stability', 'dominion' and 'life'."
Good enough for me. That's what comes from when I try to read a source too quickly... Amitchell125 (talk) 20:00, 15 September 2019 (UTC)


#### Ancient Near East
The date range given for the Middle Bronze Age needs a citation.
Teissier gives a date range for Middle Bronze seals on page 12 (with MB I starting at c. 1920 BC and MB III ending at 1550 or 1500). Ancient Near Eastern chronology is much worse than Egyptian—so much so that works like Teissier's have to state their chronological assumptions in advance—and many sources start the Middle Bronze Age at 2100 or 2000. So I rounded her 1920 date to 1950.


#### Christianity
I walked past this when I was in the V&A on Friday, and did a double take. Could the Christianity section benefit from the image, or perhaps the photograph I took?
I photo I took is poorer in quality, and I wouldn't use it. Amitchell125 (talk) 18:40, 15 September 2019 (UTC)
My sympathies; museum photography drives me crazy. Unfortunately, the V&A terms indicate that commercial use of their work is permission-only, so their photo can't be uploaded to Commons. I know it's possible to host more stringently licensed images on Wikipedia itself, but that's not something I want to tangle with. A pity..
Agreed, here's the (tweaked) image last week anyway. Perhaps it's not too bad after all.


#### Citations
Ref 28 (Du Bourguet) - imo a page number need to be included (page 1), but it's a minor issue.
Done.


#### Works cited
There is a link to Fischer available (allows the pdf to be downloaded), which I would add.
Done.
I would suggest an improved link to Andrews (download the free pdf from here), instead of the Internet Archive link (where you join a queue to view the book).
I don't know that site and am reluctant to link it. Googling it does not inspire confidence (e.g., [2]). Archive.org at least tries to ensure that its books are licensed for free access, and it's noncommercial.
Agreed, let's keep what's there.
Possibly, and as a courtesy, provide a link to Allen (here) - it links to the 2014 edition of the book, on IA (not 2000), so the pages numbers are unreliable. I don't think it's worth trying to amend all the references in the article, but readers might want to access a version of the full text.
I've added the link, and I think I will re-work the page numbers eventually. I've been working from the first edition for a long time, but it's better to be up-to-date.
I've amended the text for the source to try and make it clear that the linked edition is not used in the article. Thanks for the offer to update the refs at some time, it won't affect the decision to make it GA.


#### Further reading
The link that could be added for this source is: https://www.degruyter.com/view/j/zaes.1973.99.issue-2/zaes.1973.99.2.16/zaes.1973.99.2.16.xml, but it is not freely accessible online, and so may not be worth including.
I added it, though I wish the icon for "subscription required" weren't so glaringly red. A. Parrot (talk) 19:04, 15 September 2019 (UTC)
Sorted - no more red!


### On hold
Hello, A. Parrot, not much to change here. I am placing the article on hold for a week. Please feel free to put me right or ask me anything about the review. Regards. Amitchell125 (talk) 15:11, 15 September 2019 (UTC)

I've passed the article, thanks for all the work you put in.  Regards, Amitchell125 (talk) 20:39, 15 September 2019 (UTC)

... just lower part slightly tapered.
Meaning is fairly similar too...  — Preceding unsigned comment added by 76.102.149.201 (talk) 08:30, 14 March 2020 (UTC) 

A recent Smithsonian article on the antiviral properties of copper says that "Egyptians designated the ankh symbol, representing eternal life, to denote copper in hieroglyphs." I'm not sure this is true. From what I can glean from Egyptological dictionaries (Raymond Faulkner's Concise Dictionary of Middle Egyptian and the Wörterbuch der ägyptischen Sprache), the hieroglyphic spelling of the word for copper (ḥmt) did not incorporate an ankh sign. Alternate terms for copper may have existed, and the organization of such dictionaries doesn't make such variants easy to track down, but there's reason to be skeptical.
Moreover, the idea that the ankh is connected with copper goes back a long way, and not, as far as I can discern, through reliable Egyptological sources. See this article about copper from 1923, which is one of the first things to turn up when searching "ankh copper" in Google Books, or this book from 1947. These are not Egyptological sources, and the 1923 article isn't even scholarly.
The link here seems to be the ankh's similarity to the Venus symbol, which was used as the alchemical symbol for copper as well as the astrological symbol for Venus. The most elaborate form of this claim that I've seen was in a past version of this article, which said "…the letter ku, from the Cypriot syllabary, appeared within the circle ankh, representing Ku(prion) (Cypriots). To this day, the ankh is also used to represent the planet Venus (the namesake of which, the goddess Venus or Aphrodite, was chiefly worshipped on the island) and the metal copper (the heavy mining of which gave Cyprus its name)." Supposedly this passage was supported by a book from 1878 (!) about Cyprus, but I can't tell from the limited preview whether the book actually supported the claim. In any case, the assertion that the Venus symbol is descended from the ankh is false: this study of the origins of astronomical symbols says that in the Middle Ages the Venus symbol was a circle with a descending line but no crossbar, and that the modern, ankh-like shape of the sign only became standard in the 16th century as an effort to Christianize the signs. After the ankh had become generally known through the work of early Egyptologists, and sometime before 1923, the idea arose that the Venus sign originated with the ankh. Faulty ideas about history that arose in the 19th and early 20th centuries tend to circulate widely down to the present, thanks partly to the public-domain status of everything published before the 1920s. I think it possible that the Smithsonian article, which is not focused on ancient Egypt and need not have drawn on specialized sources, is repeating a version of this same claim.
Until there's an Egyptological source to support the idea that the Egyptians used the ankh to represent copper, I think we should keep this claim out of the article. A. Parrot (talk) 21:02, 19 April 2020 (UTC)

In Ankh#Origins, a large chunk of the final paragraph discusses Gordon and Schwabe's hypothesis concerning the 'ankh', 'djed', and 'was' glyphs as corresponding to a bull's thoracic vertebra, sacrum and lumbar vertebrae, and penis respectively. I have not checked out the cited book, but this hypothesis sounds pretty crazy and untrue. I'm aware that this whole section is speculative, but I'm wondering if this hypothesis is even worth noting?
There is no doubt that the 'was' is a depiction of a scepter (hence "power"). I see no reason to believe it to be a depiction of a bull's penis.
It's also pretty clear that the 'djed' depicts some sort of a pillar (hence "stability"), not the sacrum and lumbar veterbrae. And while the djed pillar, in artwork, was symbolic of Osiris's backbone, it's a stretch to say that Osiris's backbone is a bull's sacrum and lumbar vertebrae. Osiris wasn't even a bull, unless we're really trying to force the Osiris-Apis connection. It all just seems like mere coincidence.
As for why the 'life', 'stability', and 'power' glyphs are sometimes written together, the obvious answer is that it's to express the idea of "life, stability, and power", not because the glyphs themselves are related and/or depictions of parts of the same animal.
2601:49:C301:D810:1449:9043:358F:EAED (talk) 12:22, 25 August 2020 (UTC)

I'm skeptical of the hypothesis, too, or at least of the parts of it that are related to the ankh. Whether or not the sign originally meant "sandal strap", the early examples of the ankh sign seem pretty clearly to be cloth or rope, not bone, and they look much less like the thoracic vertebra than the mature version of the sign does (the opposite of what one would expect if the sign was originally a vertebra). But that's only my personal opinion.
When I rewrote this article, I thought it best to include Gordon and Schwabe's hypothesis. Gordon is an Egyptologist; Journal of the American Research Center in Egypt, one of the major Egyptological journals, published their hypothesis about the was; and The Quick and the Dead was published by Brill, one of the most significant academic presses for ancient history. That makes them reliable sources for Wikipedia's purposes, so the question of whether to include them in this article is based on how credible other Egyptologists consider their ideas to be (if you're not familiar with how Wikipedia works, this is a principle known on Wikipedia as due weight). I haven't seen Gordon and Schwabe's ideas endorsed or rebutted by other Egyptologists, so they don't seem to have made much of an impact in the field, but neither has it been outright rejected. In a different topic area, where the reliable sources are more voluminous, I wouldn't consider a hypothesis with so little coverage to merit inclusion, but Gordon and Schwabe are the only qualified authors to write much about the origin of the ankh since Henry George Fischer in the 1970s.
As an aside, once one looks at the evidence that Gordon and Schwabe use, their idea isn't as crazy as it first sounds. The Egyptians did use signs for animal organs to represent abstract concepts (e.g., the nefer sign, meaning "good", which is a sheep's windpipe and heart). Dried bulls' penises are actually used as staffs by some cultures in Africa today, and apparently it takes very little modification to form a dried bull's penis into a was shape. (Gordon and Schwabe did exactly that and took a photo to prove it). I agree with you that the three signs were used together because of their symbolic meaning, not because they have a common origin, and that without that assumption there's no reason to believe that the djed represents a bull's spine specifically. So, as surprised as I am to be saying it, I think the was is the most plausible part of their hypothesis. But, again, that's only my opinion. A. Parrot (talk) 16:31, 25 August 2020 (UTC)
The Was-sceptre looks like a chimney tool. Across many cultures, the chimney or hearth is the center of the house and of the world, the vertical line that joins earth and sky, body and breath. Historically, women tended that axis. You can see this both in contemporary and historical matriarchal societies (in Peggy Reeves Sanday’s sense, not J. J. Bachofen’s) such as the Mosuo, and in patriarchal societies like Ancient Rome. For embodied societies, “power” means aliveness and continuity, not domination or power-over. For a society that loves life, power is the power to create, not to destroy. In a living, embodied world like Ancient Kemet, this kind of symbolism makes sense, and it echoes across the planet. Blanca Lap (talk) 14:24, 27 October 2025 (UTC)
It also looks like the latch on a gate to a sheep pasture, a sling, two lines and a circle (if you squint really hard you can see that; euclidean geometry), and some other things. ProofCreature (talk) 15:44, 27 October 2025 (UTC)

Ankhs Meaning in ancient Egypt is simple as obvious for non gay men, what Monotheists, praising in sexual ecstasy an God, born by pharaonic and torah patronal inbreed, not includes, like it seems.
Guess what, Hathor is one of most celebrated Divinities in Old Egypt, so her is the Symbol, and her female Shape of Births Channel, nothing more nothing less, no Law, nor Judging Bounds, just giving life. it enough divine power to rule, except you a gay lord like Mose.— Preceding unsigned comment added by 2003:e1:e73b:8140:1742:c55d:c781:4e71 (talk) 01:48, 1 November 2021 (UTC)

The Ankh was carried by many deities including Ptah.  Alone, it has no gender symbolism in Egyptian culture.  Liberty5651 (talk) 11:44, 1 November 2021 (UTC)
I’m not sure what you mean by "no gender symbolism." The article itself lists hypotheses like "bull’s semen," which is explicitly phallocentric, as one of the main explanations for the ankh’s origins. Womb symbolism aligns perfectly with that level of gendered interpretation. Would you mind explaining how bull semen and phallic interpretations are considered "genderless" if not? Genuinely curious. 2A0C:5A86:B20B:3000:196F:BB01:BE1E:FA5B (talk) 21:21, 5 July 2025 (UTC)
Noting that most of this editor's comments were reverted for using WP as a blog and the IP range blocked since.  Thanks, —PaleoNeonate – 11:55, 22 November 2021 (UTC)

Should we add a part in this page about how the ankh is connected to the soul and protect people from losing their babies. I remember Jesus being pregnant and therefore adds a l lot of info as to how he became this way. some people believe he either stole it or was pregnant from his mothers blood. I know schizophrenic people hold a possibility of being pregnant. IF yousell your soul you sell your life. Your babies. 2603:8080:C140:1B92:DDBB:F3A6:A605:4E9E (talk) 15:31, 18 March 2023 (UTC)

Let's call it raindrop shaped.
Someone edited the article content to describe the Ankh as shape as having a with a "raindrop-shaped loop in place of a vertical upper bar".  "Raindrop" was reverted "teardrop" and the reversion was explained by: "Teardrop is the usual way of describing this shape" .  I changed it to "raindrop" again and fully expect it to be reverted. So, i t should be discussed:
The description really is very arbitrary here, no? It's an adjective for the shape. One's nearly as good is the other.  I tend to like "raindrop" (not that I'd thought about it before). It seems more natural (though it's not). It's certainly less sad.  I guess - best case - the description is somehow relevant to the Ankh's symbolism. Is rain or sorrow more relevant to what the Ankh symbolizes?
Other opinions are requested. ProofCreature (talk) 11:20, 17 April 2023 (UTC)

Star11308, You think raindrops and teardrops don't share the same shape?  ProofCreature (talk) 13:00, 17 April 2023 (UTC)
ProofCreature, no, they're different. Teardrops have that distinctive point and while raindrops are fully rounded. Anyway, I don't really see a reason to change it to raindrop since it's the typical way to describe the shape. Rain and tears are both unrelated to the Ankh, with teardrop just being a normal way to describe a shape of that nature. Star11308 (talk) 13:35, 17 April 2023 (UTC)
Yes. Specifically, "teardrop" has two dictionary meanings: one meaning an actual tear and one meaning "something shaped like a dropping tear". The word "raindrop" doesn't have the same additional meaning. A. Parrot (talk) 14:41, 17 April 2023 (UTC)
If one phrases it as "teardrop-shaped" or "raindrop-shaped" that doesn't seem to be a problem. ProofCreature (talk) 15:34, 17 April 2023 (UTC)
Seems drop-shape would be more appropriate than raindrop-shape.  That sounds strange. ProofCreature (talk) 23:18, 17 April 2023 (UTC)

Hello, I would like to open a discussion about the reversion of my edit in the “Origins” section.
1. The goal of the edit was to expand, not erase or deny, established Egyptological interpretations. It aimed to include early representations and cosmological meanings of the ankh that are often overlooked in mainstream summaries.

2. The removed text was based on academic sources, including published scholars—though I understand now that more specific citations are preferred. I’m currently gathering and formatting precise references and would be glad to include them inline.

3. Reverting the entire section instead of tagging it for citation improvement seems counter to collaborative editing norms. A  tag could have allowed time to improve the sourcing without erasing the contribution.

I’m open to feedback on how best to include expanded material respectfully, and I welcome dialogue on how to meet sourcing standards while honoring the depth of the topic.
Thanks for your time. Blanca Lap (talk) 17:03, 25 June 2025 (UTC)

@A Parrot:
--Blanca Lap (talk) 17:17, 25 June 2025 (UTC)
@A. Parrot:
--Blanca Lap (talk) 17:18, 25 June 2025 (UTC)
I reverted your edit because it removed text that was supported by specific, cited sources. I'm open to including the hypotheses that your text mentioned, alongside (not replacing) the hypotheses described in the long-standing version of the article. But it will depend on what exactly the sources say, and on the Wikipedia principle of due weight: that the prominence of a claim in an article should depend on its prominence in the reliable sources.
In this case, due weight is hard to judge because the authors you're citing seem almost all to be outside the fields of Egyptology and archaeology, the disciplines that work most closely with the evidence and are generally assumed to be most relevant for assessing the prominence of a claim about ancient Egypt. The only archaeologist I see in your text is Gimbutas. As the Wikipedia article about her says, Gimbutas' interpretations of evidence about prehistoric goddess-worship have been criticized for decades, including her interpretations of predynastic Egyptian material. The other figures you mention are social scientists without an archaeological background, and while their critiques of bias in Egyptology may be valid, that doesn't mean Egyptological views of the origin of the ankh can simply be dismissed as "distortions", which is the way your version of the text seemed to frame it. A. Parrot (talk) 01:46, 26 June 2025 (UTC)
Many of the interpretive frameworks in Egyptology were developed during European colonial periods. The discipline became established in Western institutions through methodologies that prioritized certain cultural values, especially Christian, Eurocentric, and patriarchal.
Multiple studies document how these frameworks influenced the interpretation of symbols, bodies, texts, and social structures in ancient Egypt.
- Women in Ancient Egypt, edited by Mariam Ayad, presents the work of 24 international scholars who examine how gender bias has influenced the interpretation of ancient Egyptian society. The volume provides detailed case studies and methodological critiques that reveal the extent to which early Egyptological narratives either minimized or misrepresented the roles and representations of women in ancient Egypt.
- Dirty Hands: Assessing Egyptology’s Racist Past in the Age of Black/African Revivals offers a systematic review of how racial ideologies shaped the foundations of Egyptological thought. The text situates Egyptology within the broader history of scientific racism, showing how racial hierarchies were embedded into interpretive practices and institutional structures.
- Black Pharaohs? Egyptological bias, racism, and Egypt and Nubia as African Civilizations, based on research by Stuart T. Smith, explores how academic treatments of Egypt and Nubia have diverged due to racialized frameworks. Smith outlines how Nubia was frequently "othered" and excluded from narratives of "high civilization," despite extensive archaeological evidence of complex state formation and interaction with Egypt. The book challenges long-standing assumptions that Egypt represented a unique or isolated phenomenon.
- Yearning for Immortality: The European Invention of the Ancient Egyptian Afterlife by Rune Nyord critically examines how Christian theological concepts (such as judgment, sin, and salvation) have been projected onto ancient Egyptian religious texts. Nyord demonstrates how early Egyptologists frequently interpreted Egyptian mortuary beliefs through a lens shaped by their own religious traditions, which in turn led to significant misreadings of the Egyptian conception of death, rebirth, and cosmic order.
- The African Origin of Civilization by Cheikh Anta Diop shows the cultural and racial continuity between ancient Egypt and sub-Saharan Africa. Diop denounces the systematic denial of the African roots of the Nile and argues, based on anthropology, linguistics and history, that the civilizations of North Africa were not alien to the rest of the continent.
This interpretive bias is not unique to Egyptology. It has been extensively documented across nearly every field shaped by colonial academic institutions, from anthropology and archaeology to history, medicine, and beyond.
A striking example of this systemic bias can be seen in how Aboriginal land stewardship and permaculture practices is still widely erased. Despite outstanding and well-documented evidence of sophisticated fire management, aquaculture, and agriculture practices, official narratives continue to classify Aboriginal peoples as mere "hunter-gatherers".
- Fire Country: How Indigenous Fire Management Could Help Save Australia by Victor Steffensen
This book shares lived knowledge from Aboriginal fire practitioners, offering detailed insights into how cultural burning practices maintained ecological balance and prevented catastrophic wildfires.
- Dark Emu: Aboriginal Australia and the Birth of Agriculture by Bruce Pascoe
Pascoe draws from historical records and archaeological evidence to argue that Aboriginal societies practiced agriculture, built permanent dwellings, and engineered landscapes, contradicting the myth of passive foraging.
- The Biggest Estate on Earth: How Aborigines made Australia by Bill Gammage
Gammage meticulously documents pre-colonial Aboriginal land management, showing how plant and animal distributions were shaped through controlled burning to create sustainable, abundant environments.
Narratives on gender and sexuality in the ancient world have been deeply shaped by assumptions inherited from modern systems of control and classification. The projection of contemporary concepts onto past societies has distorted understandings of practices, roles, and meanings that did not fit the categories imposed by patriarchal, colonial, and moralizing modernity. Stephanie Lynn Budin has contributed significantly to the dismantling of several of these myths, from a rigorous review of primary sources and a methodological approach that questions the normative assumptions inherited by historiography.
- Gender in the Ancient Near East offers a detailed review of how gender has been interpreted in ancient Near Eastern studies. The book reveals the diversity of gender expressions and functions in historical contexts that do not respond to modern binary categories, and insists on the need to read the sources from their own symbolic and cultural framework.
- The Myth of Sacred Prostitution in Antiquity dismantles one of the most persistent and problematic ideas in the history of ancient religions: the supposed existence of ritual or sacred prostitution. Through an exhaustive investigation of Mesopotamian, Greek and Roman texts, Budin shows how this notion was fabricated by modern researchers from misunderstandings, sexual prejudices and selective readings.
Modern interpretations of religion, ritual, and embodiment have frequently minimized or excluded the central roles played by menstruation, birthing, and feminine-centered cosmologies.
- The Woman in the Shaman's Body: Reclaiming the Feminine in Religion and Medicine by Barbara Tedlock draws from cross-cultural ethnographic research and her own training in Indigenous healing practices to challenge the widespread academic belief that shamanism was historically male-dominated. Tedlock documents a wide range of cultures in which women were central participants in spiritual medicine and held roles of high authority.
- Blood, Bread, and Roses: How Menstruation Created the World by Judy Grahn presents a cultural history of menstruation that reframes it as a source of cosmological order, symbolic power, and social cohesion. Through extensive cross-cultural analysis, Grahn illustrates how menstrual rituals and myths formed foundational structures in early human societies. Her work positions menstrual blood as a generative force historically associated with governance, calendar systems, and sacred storytelling.
Epistemic erasure not only affects historical accounts but the health of people themselves. Modern interpretations of birth, motherhood, and the body have often erased the political, communal, and embodied dimensions of reproductive life. Patriarchal institutions have transformed birth into a site of control, stripping it of its autonomy, symbolism, and relational depth, creating a big array of complications that simply weren't present in communal contexts.
- Of Woman Born: Motherhood as Experience and Institution by Adrienne Rich offers a seminal analysis of how motherhood has been split into lived experience and imposed institution.
- Rediscovering Birth by Sheila Kitzinger challenges the medicalization of childbirth through anthropological examples and lived accounts. She documents how Western biomedical systems displaced communal, respectful, and body-centered birthing traditions, replacing them with impersonal and often coercive protocols, which correlates with higher amounts of birth pain and complications.
Critical work in Indigenous research methodology has further illuminated how epistemological frameworks grounded in colonial values continue to shape academic inquiry itself.
- Decolonizing Methodologies: Research and Indigenous Peoples by Linda Tuhiwai Smith is a foundational text that exposes how Western research traditions have historically pathologized, extracted from, and silenced Indigenous communities. Drawing from Māori perspectives, Smith critiques the ways in which academia has reinforced colonial authority by disguising subjective methodologies as objective knowledge.
- Orientalism by Edward W. Said is a landmark critique of how Western scholarship constructed the “Orient” as an exotic, inferior, and static counterpart to the rational, civilized West. While primarily focused on Western Asia, the book’s analysis of cultural fabrication, representational control, and scholarly complicity in imperial power has direct implications for understanding how Egypt, Africa, and the entire global South have been depicted and devalued in academic narratives.
- The Theft of History by Jack Goody further explores how Europe appropriated historical achievements from other civilizations and rewrote global timelines to frame itself as the driver of progress. Goody dismantles the myth of a uniquely European trajectory, showing how innovations from Africa, Asia, and the Islamic world were systematically erased, absorbed, or misrepresented to fit a Eurocentric model of superiority.
Dominant historical narratives have often erased the voices, agency, and sophisticated knowledge systems of colonized peoples.
- A People’s History of the United States by Howard Zinn is a foundational text in counter-history. Told from the perspective of workers, enslaved people, women, Indigenous nations, and other marginalized groups, it dismantles the myth of American exceptionalism and exposes the violence, exploitation, and resistance that shaped the United States from its inception.
- An Indigenous Peoples’ History of the United States by Roxanne Dunbar-Ortiz builds on Zinn’s approach but centers the Indigenous experience. The book reexamines U.S. history as a settler colonial project rooted in land theft, genocide, and militarized expansion.
- 1491: New Revelations of the Americas Before Columbus by Charles C. Mann draws from archaeological, anthropological, and ecological research to challenge the myth that the Americas were sparsely populated by primitive peoples. Instead, Mann reveals vast, complex civilizations with urban centers, sophisticated land management, and deep scientific knowledge.
- Red Earth, White Lies by Vine Deloria Jr. critically examines how dominant scientific narratives have dismissed or distorted Indigenous oral traditions and cosmologies.
That being said, numerous researchers were mentioned in my edit, not just Gimbutas. Their works correlate to global patterns of symbolic female-based relations to notions of life and birth. But I’ll make sure to properly include the adequate citations from the start next time. Blanca Lap (talk) 07:13, 26 June 2025 (UTC)
Item 3 in the original talk page post is a valid item.  The discussion here is an appropriate response.
commentary from sociological sources is important.  Archeological evidence doesn't prove how the symbol was used or interpreted at its time.  Sociological sources add some weight to archeological evidence.  Yet, both disciplines have some bias; as do authors within those discipline.  There should be some room to note sociological interpretation, but it should be limited to specific interpretation about the ankh.  Maybe a link to other pages that discuss bias in egyptology is relevant. ProofCreature (talk) 10:59, 26 June 2025 (UTC)
I'm well aware of colonial biases in Egyptology (I've written about them myself in some of my book reviews), but pointing out a general bias does not necessarily disprove a particular hypothesis, and going on about those biases in this article would feel like a tangent. Blanca Lap, can you quote what some of your sources say about the origins of the ankh, and the arguments they give to support their hypotheses? A. Parrot (talk) 14:43, 26 June 2025 (UTC)
Going on about deeply embedded biases is essential for any rigorous take.
Pointing out general biases doesn’t "disprove" a particular hypothesis, but it does highlight that the sources supporting it have been, and often still are, systematically unreliable.
This is not specific to Egyptology. It happens across regions and traditions. For example, with Etügen Eke in Turkic and Mongolic contexts, you still find modern claims echoing colonial hierarchies and worldviews.
To not take this into consideration is an act of epistemic negligence, or at best, epistemic naivety.
Because when a discipline has been shaped for over a century by extractive, patriarchal, and Eurocentric logics, treating its dominant interpretations as neutral, or requiring "disproof" rather than accountability, reproduces the very biases you critique.
Acknowledging general patterns of distortion is not a "tangent," it's basic. It's a necessary foundation for assessing the reliability of any specific hypothesis, especially in cases like the ankh, where:
Competing theories (sandal strap, Isis girdle, vertebra, knot of life) were shaped by scholars embedded in colonial institutions.
Interpretations often erased Indigenous cosmologies and gendered symbology.
Primary Egyptian voices were silenced or reinterpreted through Western moral frameworks.
On the ankh’s origins and interpretations:
- Egyptologist Sir Alan H. Gardiner thought it developed from a sandal strap but this theory has never gained wide acceptance.
- Wallis Budge equated the ankh with the Egyptian symbol tjet, a ceremonial girdle thought to represent female genitalia. This theory, though more probable, is still not universally accepted.
These show that even "foundational theories" about the ankh’s origin (strap, girdle, fertility symbol, vertebra, etc.) are debated and not definitive.
- Monica Sjöö refers to the ankh as a symbol of life, regeneration, and the cosmic feminine, connecting it thematically to goddess traditions.
- Ifi Amadiume mentions the ankh symbolically, framing it as a representation of the womb and life-giving power, consistent with matriarchal cosmologies.
- Mariam Ayad presents chapters discussing how the ankh appears in ritual, funerary, and gendered contexts, often linked with goddesses like Hathor and Isis.
- Rune Nyord explores how Christian concepts of eternal life were retroactively projected onto Egyptian symbols like the ankh.
- Marija Gimbutas frames the ankh as having evolved from earlier Neolithic symbols of life and regeneration tied to female figurines.
- Elinor Gadon situates the ankh symbolically in the broader context of life-giving, female-centered symbols, emphasizing how sacred signs tied to fertility, cycles, and regeneration were often reinterpreted through patriarchal lenses. She shows how similar symbols (loops, crosses, womb-like shapes) across cultures expressed the power of the feminine, which helps frame the ankh as part of this global pattern of symbols tied to life and birth.
- Cheikh Anta Diop discusses the ankh as a symbol of the union of masculine and feminine principles, representing the creative force of life. He connects it with broader African cosmologies where such symbols encapsulate balance and cyclical regeneration. Diop argues that interpretations of the ankh as purely abstract or disconnected from sexuality/fertility reflect colonial distortions.
The matristic pattern is global:
- Monica Sjöö (in The Great Cosmic Mother) says that in early cultures, all religious symbolism centered around the living female body, the mysteries of birth, life, death, and regeneration.
- Marija Gimbutas (in The Language of the Goddess) says that the female principle of regeneration, venerated for millennia, was not abstract but deeply embodied in the symbols of life-giving power.
- Elinor Gadon (in The Once and Future Goddess) says that sacred symbols were once rooted in the natural rhythms of the body and the earth. They were never neutral; their reinterpretation has always been ideological.”
- Ifi Amadiume (in Male Daughters, Female Husbands) says that the separation of fertility and spirituality was imposed through colonization. Indigenous African cosmologies were fluid, not fixed in binary hierarchies.
- Oyeronke Oyewumi (in The Invention of Women) says that to name is to center a worldview. Colonial epistemology reconstructed African bodies and cosmologies to fit Western gendered categories.”
And Egyptology's biases are not quirky add-ons to it. They are its structure:
- David O’Connor says that Egyptology has long suffered from a tendency to interpret through European lenses, assuming continuity with classical thought while disregarding indigenous cosmologies.”
- Lynn Meskell says that the epistemological foundations of archaeology in Egypt are steeped in colonial power dynamics. Interpretations, particularly of gender and ritual, must be re-examined outside these imposed frameworks.”
These are not "tangents." They are structural conditions. Ignoring them is the tangent.
The pass from female-centered to male-ruled societies is also a global pattern as presented by global archeological records.
In When God Was a Woman, Merlin Stone compiles archaeological and iconographic evidence of a universal Great Goddess worship, rooted in fertility and female creativity across early civilizations.
She links the decline of goddess worship to the rise of patriarchal, male‑centered systems and monotheistic religions, which redefine fertility symbols (like the snake, tree, and female body) as evil or immoral.
Charlene Spretnak, Catherine Clément and Julia Kristeva's work reiterates this paradigm: the symbolic feminine, from goddesses to life‑giving elements, was central in early spiritualities and later systematically devalued under patriarchal scholarship and theology.
Tying these to the ankh interpretation:
Their scholarship consistently demonstrates a pattern: when life‑and‑fertility symbols (whether goddesses, snakes, trees, female form) are encountered in ancient contexts, they tend to be reinterpreted or suppressed by later patriarchal frameworks. This suggests strong grounds to read the ankh through a similar lens.
The ankh's symbolism does not exist in a vacuum, but rather shares a pattern with nearly identical symbols with cultures all around the globe.
Examples of symbols that, in different cultures and periods, have shapes or functions similar to the ankh (a loop/circle/oval on a vertical line or with axial symmetry) and are associated with the uterus, fertility, birth, life, female reproductive organs, or the sacred feminine include:
- The Egyptian Tkhet (Knot of Isis) which resembles the ankh but with downward-curving "arms." It's associated with Isis and menstrual blood as a source of regeneration and protection.
- The Hindu Yoni (India) which is a representation of the vulva as the portal of life, often in conjunction with the lingam. It's a central symbol in tantric traditions and devotions to goddesses such as Parvati, Kali, and Durga.
- The Sankofa (Akan, Ghana) which is a symbol depicting a bird turning its head towards its back to collect an egg. It's associated with the return to one's roots, regeneration, and the cycle of life.
- The Greek Omphalos (Mediterranean), called "navel" or "center of the world," is a symbol of the maternal center of the universe. The Delphi Stone, dedicated to Gaia, marked the point of birth and connection with Mother Earth.
- The Neolithic Spirals (Europe, Africa, Oceania) engraved on stones and ceramics symbolize the flow of vital energy, menstrual cycles, and the continuity of life.
- In Pre-Columbian Peru, in reliefs and ceramics, vulva or womb shapes are seen as "portals" through which heroes and ancestors are born.
- Petroglyph motifs with open ovals or concentric circles made by Australian Aboriginal groups are consistently shown to represent wombs, wombs, and matrilineal lineages among other things.
- The West Africa sculptures and carved gates with designs evoking the birth canal and uterus, associated with initiation ceremonies and the continuation of life.
- The Uyghur "tree of life" in Central Asia, which in some ancient engravings has a shape analogous to the ankh: a circle or bud on a trunk, evoking the life cycle.
- In the early Christian Mandorla (Mediterranean), the elongated oval surrounding figures such as Mary or Christ derived from pre-Christian uterine symbols representing the portal of life.
- The Venusian symbols found on prehistoric figurines in Europe, which combine circular shapes with elongated lines to represent the uterus, vulva, or fertile womb (Gimbutas details this extensively), have a striking resemblance to the ankh.
- The crossed tau in Mesopotamian and Mediterranean cultures, which also symbolizes life and rebirth, also has similar features.
And others:
These symbols share a common pattern: the circular, oval, or looped shape attached to a shaft or a design that emphasizes the entrance/exit as a metaphor for birth, fertility, the womb, or the feminine as the source of life.
Egypt doesn't fit patriarchal patterns of organization like ancient Greek or Roman societies. It fits more matriatic, matrilineal societies like the Haudenosaunee or the Minangkabau.
- Prostitution & commodification of sex: The majority of Egyptologists agree there’s no direct evidence of institutionalized prostitution in ancient Egypt (unlike in Greece, or Rome). Some texts and art hint at casual sex or transactional exchanges (e.g., love poems, certain marketplaces), but these don’t resemble regulated, systemic prostitution. Scholars like Gay Robins and Carolyn Graves-Brown point out the absence of legal or religious texts sanctioning prostitution, suggesting it wasn’t a normalized institution.
- Women’s rights described as “surprising”: Legal and economic documents from Middle and New Kingdom periods (e.g., wills, contracts) show women could own property, inherit, divorce, and initiate lawsuits : rights often not granted to women in later Greek or Roman law. Many Egyptologists (Tyldesley, Robins) remark on these rights as “unexpected” or “surprising,” which exposes their modern biases.
- Universal body decoration: Art and burial findings confirm that both men and women wore makeup (kohl), wigs, and elaborate jewelry across classes. These practices were everyday life, not limited to elites or ritual specialists, strongly suggesting collective, normalized self-expression rather than rigidly gendered or class-restricted aesthetics.
- Kinship terms and relationality: Linguistic evidence shows the word for “people” in ancient Egyptian is rmṯ, meaning “humans,” but there are records of sibling terms being used for non-blood relations, especially in letters: a pattern also seen in matrilineal societies elsewhere. “Sibling” wouldn't imply incest for the Paraohs, it would imply relational equality.
- Isis as the throne: Isis’s hieroglyph literally includes the throne sign (Ast), and Egyptian kingship ideology describes the pharaoh ruling through the divine feminine. e.g., titles like “Son of Isis.” This indicates power was framed relationally, rather than as isolated male authority, and a divine mother as the source of it, as it is common in matristic, animistic societies
- Absence of marital rape/coercive marriage: While there’s no direct text stating “marital rape is forbidden” (no ancient culture used that language), there are no records of marital rape being legalized or normalized, unlike in later Greek/Roman texts. Legal texts emphasize voluntary marriage contracts; divorce was accessible for women, without stigma or forfeiture of property.
Ancient Egypt spanned over 3,000 years, with diverse periods, regions, and shifts in power (e.g., Hyksos, Greeks, Romans). It's later in ancient Egypt’s history, particularly during foreign rule (late Dynastic periods, Ptolemaic, Roman) and periods of internal instability, that we start to see stricter, more patriarchal norms creeping in.
- Old & Middle Kingdoms (c. 2700–1650 BCE): Women had legal rights, could own property, initiate divorce, and act independently in contracts. There’s no evidence of coercive marriage or imposed guardianship during this period. Kinship and inheritance patterns traced through both parents or matrilineally.
- New Kingdom (c. 1550–1070 BCE): Women held rights and visibility, but royal propaganda started emphasizing male kingship and military power more heavily. Elite marriage alliances became more strategic, especially among royals. But overall, there wasn’t a radical loss of women’s autonomy for most Egyptians.
- Third Intermediate Period (c. 1070–664 BCE): Egypt was politically fragmented, with some regional rulers. There’s limited evidence of major changes in gender roles, but social instability may have increased reliance on external patriarchal structures in some areas.
- Late Period (c. 664–332 BCE): Foreign domination began with Nubian, then Assyrian, then Persian control. These foreign rulers often left Egyptian customs intact to keep peace, but there are records of increasing male-centric inheritance and higher bride-prices among elites. Greater stratification in society may have led elites to tighten control over women to secure family property.
- Ptolemaic Egypt (332–30 BCE): Huge shift: after Alexander the Great’s conquest, Greek rulers (Ptolemies) imposed Hellenistic customs. Greek law treated women as legal minors, requiring male guardians. Greek settlers brought gender segregation, dowries, and restricted female agency into urban centers; although traditional Egyptian communities retained older customs.
- Roman Egypt (30 BCE–395 CE): Roman law (e.g., tutela mulierum) became dominant. Women needed male guardians for many legal actions, inheritance favored male heirs, and patriarchal marriage practices like dowries became entrenched. Romanized elites reinforced stricter gender roles, though evidence suggests rural Egyptians clung to older, more egalitarian traditions.
It wasn’t that Egyptians themselves invented or willingly adopted stricter patriarchal systems. It was foreign conquests, especially by Greeks (Ptolemies) and Romans, that imposed external gender norms, laws, and hierarchies over Egyptian society.
Even then, evidence shows Egyptian communities resisted or retained older customs, especially outside major urban or elite centers where colonial power was concentrated.
The shift to more patriarchal patterns wasn’t a sudden internal transformation, but a gradual erosion under foreign rule, reinforced by new elites, administrators, and settlers who carried their own gendered assumptions.
Over time, through legal systems, education, economic pressure, and social rewards/punishments, many people reluctantly adopted or were forced into these norms; a process of cultural assimilation under coercion, not voluntary agreement.
This strongly suggest that the origins of the ankh are that of matristic, matrilineal, goddess-centered societies that we see all around the world, from ancient Europe to permaculturalist Aboriginal societies.
To center Roman (or Greek) epistemologies as "neutral" or "foundational" is to anchor entire historical interpretations in the writings of men who also believed:
- Giant gold-digging ants lived in India.
- A race of warrior women existed without men and cut off one breast to shoot better.
- The ocean boiled near Ethiopia.
- Horses could give birth to humans if struck by lightning.
These were treated as “observations” and repeated as authoritative knowledge. So when scholars quote Herodotus or Pliny as if they were ethnographers, they are not just centering bias: they’re repeating colonial fantasy as truth.
And when those same frameworks mock or erase Indigenous, matriarchal, or cosmologically embedded worldviews because they’re “mythical” or “non-rational,” they’re ignoring the mythic irrationality of their own supposed sources. Meanwhile, Roman writers:
- Sexualized and distorted Egyptian mummification practices.
- Projected their own obsessions with domination and control onto cultures they didn’t understand.
- Dismissed non-hierarchical structures as “primitive,” even when they were more stable and sophisticated than Rome’s own.
Herodotus didn't just "tell" what he saw: he projected his own ideas, fears, and fantasies onto other cultures. This is exactly what happens when you read in his texts:
- "The Egyptians have customs the opposite of ours..." (as if "normal" were only Greek).
- The delirious tales of giant ants digging for gold, or warrior women as "another race."
- His vision of sexuality and social organization, colored by the patriarchal and hierarchical values ​​of his time, which later became the basis for stereotypes about entire cultures.
This projection is the core of cultural colonialism. Because by projecting his obsessions and then establishing them as "facts," Herodotus (and chroniclers like Pliny) constructed a narrative that is still repeated today as if it were objective truth. Naming the projection is vital to dismantling that view and opening the door to perspectives closer to how those cultures understood their own lives.
So when Herodotus and later the Romans said that "the Egyptians do everything the other way around," that reveals more about themselves than about Egypt.  Because if Greco-Roman culture was deeply imbued with hierarchies, structural violence, and control, and they viewed practices such as:
- women with their own legal rights,
- feminine symbolic and spiritual power,
- sexualities not obsessed with ownership or "purity,"
- community relations based on reciprocity rather than domination...
...then "the reverse" of a system of oppression is not chaos, but a more balanced relational order.
If Roman culture was deeply kyriarchal and they viewed Egyptian practices (such as women's legal rights or their spiritual power) as "inside out," this indicates that Egypt operated with logics that today we would call more matristic or "progressive": centered on care, reciprocity, and non-coercive authority.
Given how these greco-roman texts are foundational to modern-day Egyptology, it's no wonder why you have such blalant contradictions as matrilineality being paired with patriarchy.
But matrilineality and patriarchy are not inherently linked, and the claim “they were matrilineal so that’s why they controlled women” is an incoherent projection.
Yet that contradictory framing is extremely common in academic and pop-history narratives. Scholars and commentators will say things like:
- “Matrilineality led to tighter control over women’s sexuality to ensure the matriline was ‘pure.’”
- “They tracked descent through women, but that’s why female behavior was policed so strictly.”
- “Inheritance through mothers required men to monitor women to guarantee legitimate heirs.”
These lines pop up again and again, even in reputable works, and they collapse as soon as you step outside patriarchal assumptions. Because:
- Matrilineality simply describes descent and inheritance patterns, not control.
- Modern day matrilineal societies, like the Khasi or the Juchitecas, are also matrifocal and egalitarian, with social norms built on collective well-being, not coercion.
- There’s no inherent need to “control” women for matrilineality to function, but you do need it for patrilineality to function. The logic of control comes from patrilineal lenses assuming everyone is obsessed with property, paternity certainty, and ownership.
The idea that matrilineality = hyper-control of women is a projection of patriarchal obsessions about legitimacy and inheritance, not something embedded in real-life matrilineal systems themselves.
So, while there is no real way to know the original symbolism of the ankh, matristic societies show a clear and strong pattern across the globe.
And even though we can't for sure know its origins, the ankh appears most prominently in funerary, ritual, and divine contexts, especially where themes of life, rebirth, and regeneration are central, giving us a clear context for its origins:
- Funerals & tomb art: Ankhs are ubiquitous in tombs and on sarcophagi, often shown in the hands of deities or offered to the deceased’s nose or mouth, symbolizing the breath of life or eternal life in the afterlife.
- Ritual scenes: Deities frequently hold the ankh or extend it toward pharaohs, conferring vitality, health, or divine legitimacy.
- Temple reliefs: Ankhs appear in scenes of pharaohs making offerings, receiving blessings, or interacting with deities, reinforcing their association with cosmic order and life force.
- Amulets & jewelry: Worn as protective charms to ensure well-being, health, and rebirth, both in life and death.
This shows a clear context for interpreting the ankh’s meaning. Yet, most of the hypotheses currently listed in the article trace its origins to male-centered, phallocentric, or materially reductive frameworks:
- Male sexual anatomy and power: e.g., Gordon and Schwabe’s proposal that the ankh (along with the was and djed) represents bull genitalia or bones associated with semen, directly linking life and power to male reproductive organs.
- Tools, objects, and practical items: e.g., Gardiner’s idea of the ankh as a sandal strap knot, emphasizing a utilitarian object rather than a symbolic or cosmological meaning connected with life cycles, fertility, or the sacred feminine.
- Knots as amulets: i.e., Heinrich Schäfer and Henry Fischer’s theory of the ankh as a knot formed from cloth or reeds, reducing the symbol to a literal, technical object without exploring potential cosmological or relational layers.
- Abstract or rebus readings: e.g., interpreting the ankh purely as a written sign derived from words containing similar sounds, treating it as a byproduct of linguistic convenience rather than a deeper cultural symbol.
- Mirrors or random objects: e.g., Loret’s mirror hypothesis, which, while less overtly phallocentric, still anchors the symbol in a mundane, material explanation disconnected from fertility, life, or goddess-centered meanings.
While these hypotheses are more mainstream, they are also completely detached from the contexts in which the symbol appears (funerals, rebirth, divine blessings) and from the cosmologies that gave rise to them (reducing them to linguistic conveniences or utilitarian objects devoid of further depth).
In contrast, female-centered, uterine and life-related cosmovisions and hypothesis fit well under these rebirth-related contexts.
Given the cumulative evidence, it is, in my opinion, reasonable and responsible to include interpretations of the ankh as a symbol rooted in female-centered cosmologies and life cycles, rather than dismissing them based on colonial-era biases.
And if it’s necessary, I’m willing to provide an extensive list of matrilineal and matristic societies, both historical and contemporary, for cross-referencing how the male-genitalia-as-power-and-domination logic doesn’t apply to their cosmovisions, rendering most of the article’s cited hypotheses more likely projections than plausible explanations. Blanca Lap (talk) 07:01, 28 June 2025 (UTC)
Please, let me point out that the second sentence in the Origins section is: "There is little agreement on what physical object the sign originally represented."
Sociological sources have a bias comparable to archeological sources.  To replace one with the other would be to repeat the same failure.  The truth is best suggested with synthesis between competing bias.  If that is not possible, then the next best option is to explain other perspectives. ProofCreature (talk) 11:21, 28 June 2025 (UTC)
There’s a global pattern of symbols shaped like loops, crosses, spirals, or wombs representing life, fertility and regeneration, rooted in embodied, relational and female-centered cosmologies. The contexts where the ankh appears (funerary rites, divine blessings, offerings of life force) line up perfectly with that symbolic pattern: death-to-life transitions, continuity, cosmic balance.
“Official” hypotheses keep fixating on explanations like “it’s just a sandal strap” or “bull vertebra/semen = power,” which not only don’t match the symbol’s ritual contexts but also mirror deeply patriarchal preoccupations with male anatomy as the source of life or authority.
Meanwhile, interpretations aligning the ankh with womb/life-giving symbols are dismissed as fringe or “other” despite clear cross-cultural parallels.
Maybe making the article's section up to be about all of the theories presented, along the contexts and reasons for each will be the best option. Blanca Lap (talk) 12:46, 28 June 2025 (UTC)
While acknowledging everyone's biases is important, I want to point out that I cited the work of a wide array of scholars across multiple disciplines: archaeologists, Egyptologists, anthropologists, feminist scholars, and others. Egyptology isn’t limited to archaeology alone, and not all archaeologists or Egyptologists agree with the “mainstream” narratives. My points were about situating the ankh within its material contexts, funerary uses, and global patterns of life-symbols. Blanca Lap (talk) 12:54, 28 June 2025 (UTC)
The thing is that the purpose of a Wikipedia article is to distill the sources into a form that a layperson can digest. While it's the academics' job to worry about bias and to integrate concerns about bias into the conclusions they draw, Wikipedia is mostly supposed to reflect those conclusions. That doesn't mean we shouldn't talk about those biases, but our first priority is the end result.
For a concrete example: I'm very interested in Nyord's arguments about the Egyptian afterlife, and if I were writing about it for Wikipedia, I would mention that Nyord believes that previous conceptions of it were shaped by the Christian biases of early Egyptologists. But my main focus would be explaining the alternative that he puts forward (assuming he eventually does put it forward as promised). But it would also be necessary to weigh to what extent other scholars accept his arguments—at one point I thought ancient Egyptian funerary texts might be my next project, but now I want to wait a while to see what impact Nyord has on the scholarship on that topic.
Bringing it back to this article, there hasn't been any recent examination of what scholars think about the origins of the ankh. But as far as I can tell, the idea that the it originated as a knot of cloth or string is the most widely accepted hypothesis (no doubt partly because the earliest examples look more like a knot of cloth or string than the canonical form of the ankh does). The article text does mention other hypotheses, and it makes sense to add the hypotheses mentioned in your revision of the article: the uterus or birth canal, and irrigation channels. But those hypotheses need to be supported by citations to specific sources. Can you cite the exact sources and pages that support the claims, and, ideally, quote some of their wording? A. Parrot (talk) 21:49, 28 June 2025 (UTC)
I'll need to check my physical books since I don’t have them all in ebook format. In the meantime, I can send quotes that explore global, cross-cultural patterns of symbols (wombs, cycles, spirals, vulvas, etc.) as life/death/rebirth motifs. I believe a global pattern is relevant and worth mentioning. Blanca Lap (talk) 12:56, 4 July 2025 (UTC)
It would be appropriate to link to another wikipedia article that describes that concept.  It is not the topic for this article, and so should not be discussed in detail.  A short example directly relevant to this article would be fair to include. ProofCreature (talk) 14:29, 4 July 2025 (UTC)
“There is little agreement on what physical object the sign originally represented.” That’s an open door to contextualizing the ankh alongside other cross-cultural symbols of life, wombs, cycles, etc. If mainstream Egyptologists themselves don’t agree on the ankh’s concrete origin, providing context on global patterns adds relevant perspective, not off-topic speculation.
The Use in religion and art section describes the ankh’s role in Egyptian cosmology: life as a circulating force renewed by cyclical events like sunrise and sunset, embodied in myths such as the goddess Nut swallowing and birthing Ra each night and morning: a clear reference to regenerative, cyclical, and embodied symbolism deeply connected with the ankh, and a direct link to womb symbolism.
It’s also important to recognize that in Egyptian art, the majority of deities shown holding or offering the ankh are goddesses (Isis, Hathor, Nut, among others) who embody life-giving, cyclical, and regenerative forces. This widespread portrayal of goddesses directly aligns the ankh with womb-like, embodied symbols of life, making the connection to global patterns of cyclical, feminine life symbolism not only relevant but essential context.
Additionally, I have books covering the other societies mentioned in the article (Minoan, Near Eastern, etc.), where the ankh was inherited and associated with life/death/rebirth symbolism often tied to cyclical, feminine, or womb-related meanings. If the societies that adopted the ankh from Egypt show a consistent pattern of embodied, feminine, cyclical life symbolism, that context isn’t unrelated: it directly informs the meaning and reception of the ankh across cultures. Blanca Lap (talk) 15:42, 4 July 2025 (UTC)
That there is no agreement is because the facts support numerous suppositions which have been discussed ad nauseam.  It is fair to include an example that represents a supposition you think is not represented, but to overwhelm the article with biased research is unreasonable.  It would be better to include, in the example, a link to another page that discusses feminine life symbolism in egyptian cosmology (I imagine there is one under a different name.  If not you could create one.)
Also, the ankh is depicted along with and held by both male and female deities.  If you are willing to look beyond your female bias you will notice that. ProofCreature (talk) 21:23, 4 July 2025 (UTC)
Female bias? I’m sorry, I don’t think I follow. This seems to be moving from discussing the article to discussing me personally, which is an ad hominem and a red herring.
The societies that inherited the ankh from Egypt overwhelmingly used it in life-death-rebirth and uterine-symbol contexts as a consistent pattern. Yet in mainstream Egyptology, Egypt itself often isn’t depicted with those connotations, despite the symbolism aligning with these inherited cultural patterns.
And while both goddesses and gods are indeed depicted holding the ankh, the majority are female deities (Isis, Hathor, Nut), precisely because the ankh symbolizes life, fertility, rebirth, and cyclical renewal, especially in contexts of regeneration, birth, and protection.
How exactly is pointing that out a “bias”? I thought I was recalling facts based on iconography and historical patterns, but maybe I’m misunderstanding. Would you mind explaining what specifically you think is biased here? Blanca Lap (talk) 05:22, 5 July 2025 (UTC)
Bias is an inclination temperament or outlook.  It is a personal perspective.  I would like to ask for forgiveness for using the pronouns "you" that individualized the conversation.  Unfortunately that is how a bias is defined.  It takes a personal approach to a topic and ignores other information.  It can be deeply ingrained so that one does not recognize it!
I will not continue this conversation for shame that I have caused an offense.
To end my part, here, I will only note that the ankh is shown alongside not only Isis, Hathor, and Nut, but also Amun, Ra (before and after their merger), Horus, Khonsu, and even Geb.   It is also found as ornamentation on many architectural structures and personal artifacts both male and female.  The symbol itself is a line and a circle which are, respectively, male and female symbols.  It takes both to have life. ProofCreature (talk) 11:25, 5 July 2025 (UTC)
Nothing in gods holding the ankh rules out uterine symbolism. Historically, male rulers and deities often adopt symbols of life or fertility to claim authority. We have already established a clear pattern both globally and among the societies that directly inherited the ankh from Egypt (including in Meroitic, Near Eastern, and Aegean cultures), as well as the fact that the ankh is directly linked to Isis and mostly used by female deities. You need both men and women to create life, but gestation (aka, baby/life creation), happens inside the womb. If you don’t want to keep this discussion going, I respect that. Blanca Lap (talk) 12:39, 5 July 2025 (UTC)
Not really adding to the discussion; I just wanted to emphasize that it would be more accurate to say the womb creates the life/baby, rather than life simply happening inside it. Blanca Lap (talk) 13:37, 5 July 2025 (UTC)

@Hoponpop69: Although this topic has been added here before, I don't think it's significant enough to include here. The essay on pop-culture sections, and the RfC that it cites, say the sources need to establish that the pop-culture reference is significant to the article's subject. (See also User:Jackyd101/Popular culture advice, which is another essay without the backup of an RfC, but I think is fairly widely read among experienced Wikipedians, and is even more explicit about the need to establish the relationship between the pop-culture reference and the article topic).
I wrote the "Modern use" section to reflect this advice. The sources identify three broad trends in the modern use of the ankh: as a religious symbol brought back to visibility after the counterculture of the '60s stirred greater interest in ancient religions, as an emblem of specifically African heritage, and as a symbol of the goth subculture. The most specific pop-cultural reference in this section is to The Hunger, but that's because sources establish that film as the origin of the ankh's popularity with goths. The ankh appears in many other places in pop culture, but I don't know of sources that identify any of those appearances as exemplars of a broad trend. A band member's face makeup falls into that category, unless your source says something about its wider significance. A. Parrot (talk) 15:04, 19 November 2025 (UTC)

It should be given consideration that Kiss (is it KISS?) is not an average neighborhood bar band, but a cultural phenomenon with global influence.  They likely have a larger cultural influence than The Hunger.  Their influence on this specific topic should be debated.  It would, at the very least, fall under the first trend of the modern use of the ankh: returned to visibility by the counterculture of the 60s (and generational continuity). ProofCreature (talk) 12:29, 20 November 2025 (UTC)
But does any source say that their use of the ankh has had a wider impact? A. Parrot (talk) 14:17, 20 November 2025 (UTC)
I do not have one.  If one doesn't exist I imagine someone could write one (if anyone cared to make the effort).
Source or no, it is a very good example for visibility of the symbol after the 60's countercultural revival.  An example does not establish a thesis but lends credibility to one that already exists. ProofCreature (talk) 18:42, 20 November 2025 (UTC)
I don't see why this example in particular needs to be highlighted. It might help if the source said something about why Vincent chose that symbol in particular, but I can't tell if it does because the citation can't even be traced to a specific page. It just says "passim". A. Parrot (talk) 17:57, 21 November 2025 (UTC)