Introduction

Questions about the Late Bronze Age in the East Mediterranean, specifically its end, have puzzled scholars for centuries.  The fact that mass destructions of Bronze Age towns and settlements from the Aegean to the Levant can be grouped to within 50 years of each other is archaeologically striking and only heightens the desire to understand exactly what occurred during the turn of the 13^th and 12^th centuries BCE.[1]  Textual documents from Egypt, the Levant, and Iron Age Greece have been the historian’s traditional guides to this intriguing period.  However, in the past 50 years, a wealth of new archaeological data has been uncovered, not the least of which has come from Cyprus.  Because Cypriot archaeological expeditions are relatively recent (compared to those of Troy, Mycenae, Tyrins, Knossos, etc.), more modern, objective and scientific techniques have been – presumably – employed on the island.

In the past 100 years of Mediterranean Archaeology, there have been quite a few explanations for the end of the Late Bronze Age.  Some of the more popular views follow: (1) A large scale, Dorian invasion of mainland Greece overwhelmed the already established, Mycenaean palatial settlements, eradicating their cultural existence in Greece and sending the Aegean spiraling into a Dark Age; (2) not necessarily mutually exclusive from the former, the recently ousted Mycenaeans (or perhaps those who ousted them), fled (or continued their ‘march’) from the Aegean and went on a terrorizing rampage throughout the Levant until they were finally thwarted by the benevolent Rameses III in the mouths of the Nile; (3) Minoans, who were themselves ousted from Crete by Mycenaeans, settled in the Levant (including, of course, Cyprus) and were destroyed, in turn (and with the rest of the local populations) by recently ousted Mycenaeans.  In each of these cases – and they are, certainly, not all-inclusive – a step-by-step, linear pattern is presupposed.  However, the more information archaeologists gather regarding this time period, the less tenable such linear patterns of change become.  For instance, the supposed Sea Peoples who, thanks to Egyptian documentation, came from the sea and ravaged the whole of the East Mediterranean, were once believed to be a loose confederation of maritime states, not unlike the Achaean confederation against Troy in the Iliad; today, however, most scholars believe that the Sea Peoples consisted of a diverse cultural make-up and were, primarily, peoples originating from the Levant, not Crete, the Cyclades, mainland Greece or Sardinia.  In truth, modern scholars are more apt to confess their lack of certainty regarding such issues because, ironically, they have more information to work with – and try to make sense out of.

The question becomes, then, what can be said about Cyprus at the end of the Late Bronze Age?  And how is this information instructive for drawing a more complete picture of the end of the Late Bronze Age in the East Mediterranean?  Consequently, long-standing theories of East Mediterranean politico-economic systems must also be questioned.

It would be impossible to provide a comprehensive analysis of all Late Bronze Age sites on Cyprus and to attempt an integrated analysis with the rest of the East Mediterranean in these few pages.  Therefore, this study will focus on only a select few, recent excavation reports (1970s & 80s), supplemental analyses which survey work across the island and textual documentation – necessarily non-Cypriot since the only known Cypriot script is scarce and, as yet, undecipherable – which mention Cyprus and might be instructive in deducing Cyprus’ relation to the greater East Mediterranean world.

Overview of Cyprus in the Late Bronze Age

Textual Evidence for Trade & Diplomacy

Despite its ideal location between the Levant, Egypt and the Aegean, Cypriot culture is thought to have been conspicuously isolated from its neighbors until the advent of the Bronze Age.  From that point forward, Cyprus seems to have assumed an integral role in East Mediterranean trade and politics: “The Amarna letters from Alashiya demonstrate that, during the 14^th century BC at least, the king of Cyprus was firmly in control of the Mediterranean side of Cypro-Egyptian trade” (Knapp & Cherry, 1994.  p. 133).   There are many extant textual sources referring to Cyprus, in one form or another, which originate outside the island or appear to be written from a king/prince on Cyprus to a king/prince in the Levant or Egypt.[2]  One such reference occurs in the Papyrus Anastasi IV, 17.8-9, which states, “Many ingots of raw copper, bars of dh-metal on the neck of the children of Alashiya as gifts for His Majesty, (life, prosperity, health), the horns which are in their hand full of the oil of Iren(?).  Horse-teams and fine steeds, the product of Shangar, top stallions of Hatti, cows of Alashiya…” (Ockinga, 1996).  The date of the Papyrus Anastasi IV is believed to be c. 1202-1196, the 19^th Dynasty of Egypt, probably during the reign of Seti II (Ockinga, 1996).  The Amarna period, on the other hand, is a pseudonym for the 18^th Dynasty, which is dated to the beginning of the New Kingdom, c. 1570 (Mertz, 1978).  Nonetheless, the previous and other Amarna letters speak of copper exchange between Egypt and Alashiya (Cyprus) (Karageorghis, 1990).  Thus, not only was there (apparently) extensive contact between Cyprus and Egypt in the 16^th century, but it occurred on a diplomatic, ‘ceremonial’ level. 

Perhaps the most sensational documents involving Cyprus (and the whole of the East Mediterranean) come from Ugarit and Hatti.  In a mid-13^th century diplomatic text, two princes have committed some sort of offense to the ruling king of Ugarit and are banished, by their mother, “to the land of Alashiya” (Beckman, 1996).  However, the most prominent documents[3] coming from Ugarit are dated to the late 13^th or early 12^th century and deal with diplomatic, military matters:

Thus says the king (of Alashiya): say to Ammurapi, king of Ugarit: May you be well, and may the gods protect you in well-being!  Concerning that which you wrote (me): “Enemy ships have been sighted at sea” − if it is true that ships have been sighted, then make yourself very strong.  Now where are your infantry and [your] chariotry stationed?  Aren’t they stationed with you?  No?  Who is sending you after(?) the enemy?  Surround your cities with walls.  Bring (your) infantry and chariotry into (them).  Be on the lookout for the enemy and make yourself very strong.  (Beckman, 1996. p.27).

The previous ‘royal letter’[4] is believed to have come from Alashiya.  It is followed by a ‘royal letter’ from the king of Ugarit, who addresses the king of Alashiya as his father, a diplomatic reference to the honor accorded the addressee.[5]  In the latter ‘royal letter,’ the king of Ugarit is in dire straits.  He bemoans the unavailability of his navy and the impending doom of “the enemy.”  It appears that the ruler of Ugarit is prostrating himself before the ruler of Alashiya, his “father.”  Indeed, Ugarit was traditionally known as a hub of East Mediterranean trade, was a greatly prized territory by both Egyptian and Hittitte rulers, and was comparably rich because of its unique economic position: “Ugarit was probably the main port of transit throughout the Middle and Late Bronze Ages” (Knapp & Cherry, 1994. p. 145).  Thus, for any ruler of Ugarit to openly assume a deferential position toward a ruler on Cyprus, one can only imagine (a) the presumed power of the king of Alashiya, and/or (b) the dire straits in which the Ugaritic king found himself.  In either case, the relationship between Alashiya and its neighbors on the Syrio-Palestine coast appears to be very close and amicable – although late Hittite kings boast of quelling Alashiya by force.

According to Bernard Knapp and John Cherry (1994), there are four primary categories of trade relations:

Research into Bronze Age Aegean and eastern Mediterranean exchange has led to proposals of four kinds of trade mechanisms:

1.      centralized political (regional or interregional) control (e.g., Minoan, Canaanite);

2.      localized control by single (state, city-state) polities, with intermediaries (or emissaries) linking different nodes (Renfrew’s Commercial-Directional Trade) (e.g., Ugarit, Enkomi, Kommos);

3.      freelance or entrepreneurial trade (everything from market exchange to ‘tramping’); and

4.      ceremonial or ‘gift’ exchange.  (pp. 127-8)

Diplomatic or “ceremonial ‘gift’ exchange” played a large part in Bronze Age trade, and Cyprus was no exception.  While “ceremonial ‘gift’ exchange” was a common trade practice between governing bodies (i.e., between states), Knapp and Cherry’s “freelance or entrepreneurial trade” must have also played a significant part in Bronze Age economies.  Knapp and Cherry (1994) infer that “state-directed” trade/gift exchange was primarily a tool for the elite, and more practical trade was conducted regularly through “freelance” trade, wherein the basic (trade) needs of any given population are met.  While this analysis has its merits, it must be pointed out that there are precedents for state-directed trade which are enacted for the sole purpose of meeting basic needs of the general population: the importation of Egyptian wheat to Rome (albeit 1000 years later) was a conspicuous example of this.  However, the wheat must be viewed as a raw material, and Knapp and Cherry’s argument was implicitly directed toward the finished products trade – which would have been impossible without raw materials trade, as Knapp and Cherry, paradoxically, state.

On the other hand, Kanta’s (1998) following statement cannot be ignored:

It is intriguing that in Egyptian wall paintings among the objects carried by the Keftiu are elephant tusks and copper ingots.  This might suggest that matters of trade were much more complex than we think today and that Cretan or Aegean traders were also transporting oriental materials, even to Egypt itself” (p. 42)

Egyptian representation has always been a bit enigmatic when compared to the rest of the Mediterranean world.  Thus, visual depictions are often analyzed today with an eye toward the stylistic or metaphorical rather than the literal:

Distinctive ethnic groups (Syrians and Keftiu ‘tribute bearers’) portrayed in the tombs of 14^th Dynasty Egyptian officials wear garments that are virtually indistinguishable.  Was this, as is usually assumed, merely a stylistic convention on the part of the Egyptian artist, or had Syrian, Cypriote, and Aegean merchants in some cases adopted similar types of apparel as a result of repeated contacts and commercial interactions over the years.  (Knapp & Cherry, 1994)

While scholars are certainly justified in taking literal Egyptian depictions of foreigners with a grain of salt, there is potential merit in a literal interpretation of said depictions.  For example, if Cretans, Ionians (before such a term existed), Canaanites, Cypriotes, etc. did amalgamate in the Levant (as the abundance of LH III pottery and architectural changes suggest) and other locales of frequent interaction, then one would expect them to look fairly similar, bordering on exactly the same to foreign eyes – such as those of the Egyptians.  Thus, we must state that it is plausible that Cypriot, Levantine, even Cretan cultures did, in fact, look alike toward the end of the Bronze Age.  Plausibility, however, is not synonymous with probability.  What, then, can recent archaeology on Cyprus tell us about probability?

Excavations & Surveys on Cyprus

Enkomi

Centralized production in coastal centers like Enkomi, Hala Sultan Tekke Vyzakia, and Morphou Toumba tou Skourou (and later in Kition, Kouklia Palaepaphos, and elsewhere), and the market potential of their port areas, made available a wide variety of domestic products, as well as an impressive array of imported goods….

The intensification and expansion of metallurgical developments…occurred initially at Enkomi, and perhaps soon thereafter at Hala Sultan Tekke Vyzakia…. [I]t seems likely that Enkomi dominated the island economically, if not politically, throughout the ProBA 1 phase. (Knapp & Cherry, 1994)

Assigning Enkomi a preeminent place in the development of Bronze Age Cyprus is tenuous, but there is nothing in the current library of archaeological evidence to denounce such speculation.  The very nature of prehistoric archaeology precludes any definitive answer, at least with modern techniques.  Hence, Knapp and Cherry’s analysis is certainly plausible, given the current state of evidence – tenuous because that evidence is always subject to change.  In anycase, it is “the most extensively excavated town of the Late Bronze Age in Cyprus” (Karageorghis, 1990), so it is an excellent place to begin our survey.

“The pottery which predominates at Enkomi during Level IIIA is of Myc. IIIC:1b type” (Karageorghis, 1990. p. 19).  Levels IIB, IIIA, B, and C encapsulate the LBA occupations.  That is to say, LH IIIC pottery predominates the LBA occupation level of Enkomi.[6]  Level IIB represents the point at which Enkomi experienced an economic boom and experimented with metallurgy, as is evidenced by tomb finds during that period (Karageorghis, 1990).  It is Level IIIA, however, where ashlar masonry is introduced and buildings were constructed “of a truly monumental character” (Karageorghis, 1990).  One of the few cyclopean fortification walls on Cyprus can be found here; there is evidence of a hurried construction and then destruction soon thereafter of the wall: “Level IIIA represents a reorganization of the whole town.  There was a new town planning grid and the site was fortified with a massive wall of ‘cyclopean’ type” (Karageorghis, 1990.  p. 19). 

“Enkomi, since Neopalatial times produced Minoan pottery which became more numerous in LM IIIA & B” (Kanta, 1998.  p. 47).  As interesting as that is, it would have to have been a neat trick considering that Crete was Mycenaean in character from LM IIIB onward.  Nonetheless, it would seem that Enkomi continued to produce LM IIIA & B pottery after the Minoans were ousted from Crete, possibly under the influence of scattered Minoans, or more likely, Cretan culture continued to influence pottery production at Enkomi, whether it be Minoan or Mycenaean driven.

Finally, although certainly not of least importance to this study, “The earliest Cyprominoan document, the well-known tablet from Enkomi, dated ca. 1500 B.C., and other, later examples of that script, have such close similarities to Linear A, that they indicate a close imitation of the Cretan writing system, and not merely influence from the Aegean” (Kanta, 1998. p. 37).  The interesting aspect of this tablet (and others like it) is that Cyprominoan script was never replaced on Cyprus with Linear B, as had happened on Crete.  This suggests a very different kind of relationship between the Mycenaean world and Cyprus than what is believed to have occurred on Crete – mainly a swift assault and occupation of the island.[7]  But perhaps even more puzzling is the idea that Cyprus, an essentially Levantine island with Anatolian roots, would develop an Aegean writing system at all, especially considering its close proximity to so many influential mainland civilizations.  The fact that Minoans were well-traveled lends plausibility to this idea, but the problem of proximity presents quite a paradox that has yet to be satisfactorily resolved.  We will return to this question later.

Kition

Kition’s importance as a cultural center in Late Bronze Age Cyprus cannot be overlooked: “Kition, along with Palaepaphos, is the only urban centre where life continued without interruption into CG I” (Karageorghis, 1990.  p. 19).  “The Kition tombs, especially Tomb 9, have produced a considerable number of LM IIIB Cretan imports, some of them produced in the Chania workshop” (Kanta, 1998.  p. 47).  While tombs themselves are difficult to date, pottery within and building above (in a very conspicuous case at Enkomi) are relatively reliable measures, assuming the tomb was sealed and not contaminated by later debris – which, in all honesty, is the case with any question of stratification.

Hala Sultan Tekke

This is thought to have been another major cultural hub/center on Cyprus.  It is dated to LC IIIA:1 (Karageorghis, 1990).  Buildings “of small ashlar blocks of limestone” where found (Karageorghis, 1990.  p. 16).  Karageorghis (1990) cites P. Astrom, stating that a layer for “destruction of the [settlement] at the end of LC IIIA:1” was uncovered (p. 16).  As Knapp and Cherry (1994) alluded to in regard to Enkomi, “Ample evidence for metallurgical activity has been uncovered dating to this period, including copper slag, tuyères, moulds for casting and various bronze objects” (Karageorghis, 1990.  p. 16).

The fact that Hala Sultan Tekke was a cultural hub in the Late Bronze age is attested to in the variety of “pottery and other goods from Egypt, Anatolia, the Aegean and the Levant [that] have been found in fair numbers, both on the floors of houses and in tombs” (Karageorghis, 1990. p. 16).  Included in this pot pourri of pottery is a LC IIIA:1 crater with double axes and horns of consecration (fragments), a cartouche of Rameses II found on a scarab in a tomb, a silver bowl dated to LC IIIA:1 “is inscribed with letters from the Ugarit cuneiform script,” and an abundance of locally made LH IIIC:1b wares (Karageorghis, 1990. p. 17).

Other sites

Kalavassos-Ayios Dhimitrios: Building X “is one of the largest and most impressive buildings excavated at a Late Cypriote site” (Karageorghis, 1990. p. 3).  Its walls are ashlar comparable to structures at Enkomi, Kition and Palaepaphos.  The complex was constructed around a central courtyard (Karageorghis, 1990. p. 3).  One cannot help but be reminded of the palace structures on Crete, built around a central courtyard.  Crete is the likely precedent for labeling this building “palatial and administrative in character” (Karageorghis, 1990. p. 3).  Five clay cylinders bearing “Cypro-Minoan” script were uncovered at the site, further associating it with palatial Crete (Karageorghis, 1990. p. 5).

Maroni-Vournes: This site also “underwent radical changes in LC IIC.  The construction of a larg ashlar building on a prominent part of the site, comparable to but smaller than Building X [at Kalavassos]” (Karageorghis, 1990. pp. 6-7).

Morphou-Toumba tou Skourou provides evidence of ashlar masonry during its final stages at the end of LC IIC.  It was apparently abandoned and not re-inhabited in the phase immediately following (LC IIIA) (Karageorghis, 1990. p. 7).

Sinda, located just 15km west of Enkomi, experienced a violent destruction “at the end of the LC IIC period….  Only the massive fortification walls survived the catastrophe” (Karageorghis, 1990. p.12).

Palaepaphos exhibits some of the “largest and finest” ashlar blocks on Cyprus (Karageorghis, 1990. p. 15).  Pottery found in wells and tombs help date the site to the early part of the LC IIIA period, according to Catling’s (1968) calculations (Karageorghis, 1990).

New LBA Settlements

Pyla-Kokkinokremos

The Late Bronze Age settlement at Pyla is located on a naturally protected, easily defended plateau.  Surveys reveal that the inhabited area was greater than that which was excavated.[8]  Room 11 in the southeast wing of the excavated area is one of the rooms labeled “rubble filled.”  Demas and Karageorghis (1984) concluded that there was a collapse, probably due to an earthquake, which highlighted some of the less structurally sound walls of the complex.  Consequently, parts of the complex were reinforced with rubble bracing, and some of the complex appears to have been rendered completely uninhabitable.  Even some of the rooms devoid of rubble were rendered unusable because they could only be accessed through the damaged areas of the complex (Karageorghis & Demas, 1984).  In other words, leaning superstructure walls were buttressed with rubble, rendering backfilled and dependent rooms of the backfilled areas unusable.  However, this disaster did not herald the abandonment of the settlement for the obvious reason that the walls were buttressed, and the other half of the complex shows evidence of continued usage until the site’s abandonment.

Amphorid craters, similar in type to chariot crater no 12, one of the most prized artifacts uncovered at Pyla, begin to appear on Cyprus and in the Levant around 1230:

The appearance in Cyprus and Ugarit of amphorid craters of a type which is particular to Mycenaean centres of Western Asia Minor (e.g., Miletus), should receive more attention; it may provide corroborating evidence for the establishment of the route taken by the Mycenaean refugees who reached Cyprus c. 1230 B. C., or the areas of the Aegean which continued having relations with the Eastern Mediterranean (Karageorghis & Demas, 1984. pp. 69-70).

Whether or not these craters and other LH artifacts were introduced by refugees is open to interpretation.  However, the fact remains that such wares begin to make their appearance around 1230, the time new settlements of a distinctively defensive character begin to appear on Cyprus.  But pottery ware at Pyla was interesting for a multitude of reasons, not the least of which was its vast sample.  Not only is much of the “Myc.” Pottery uncovered also characteristic of the Levant, but there were clearly Egyptian and Cretan wares as well.  Karageorghis (1990) would later state, “The unusually high proportion of Cretan ceramics…has been interpreted as evidence for the presence of Cretan immigrants among the population of Kokkrimenos” (p. 10)[9].  There was also a large amount of local Cypriot ware, but it was almost uniformly undecorated.[10]  The “Myc.” (or LH) III ware is what is used to date the site, and the earliest pottery is “Myc. IIIB,” which was sparse, making the settlement – there was only one occupation level – probably a “Myc. IIIC” or LC IIIC to LC IIIA:1settlement.  That is to say, c. 1230 to 1200 (Karageorghis & Demas, 1984) or 1200 to 1170 (Karageorghis, 1997).

Dating aside – 30 years is a pittance in prehistoric dating – the manner in which the site was abandoned is abundantly clear.  Three ‘hoards,’ a silversmith’s hoard, a goldsmith’s hoard, and a founder’s hoard were discovered in situ.  They were clearly hidden, some three millennia ago, where they were found in the early 1980s.  The only explanation is that the owners hid their valuables under duress and intended to return and collect them when the immediate danger had passed (Karageorghis & Demas, 1984).  Obviously, that never happened; the site was never reoccupied, and now it’s target fodder for the British military.

Maa-Palaiokastro

Maa-Palaiokastro, like Pyla-Kokkinokremos, can be chronologically pinpointed with relative ease because it only has two (chronologically short) levels of occupation.  It was also established on a strategically sound peninsula, making it easily defensible from all sides, much in the same way Pyla was situated on an isolated, defensible plateau.  However, Maa is located on the opposite side of the island from Pyla and, because it does not rely upon any natural elevation change, is protected by cyclopean fortification walls.  The northern fortification walls are located at the narrowest point of the peninsula; the southern walls closely follow the contours of the tip of the peninsula.  Despite the limited areas of excavation, the entire peninsula is believed to have been occupied – as is indicated by the boundary walls.  “The most important contribution of the site will undoubtedly be its clear stratigraphical sequence of inhabitation, destruction, rebuilding and abandonment in association with Myc. IIIC:1 pottery” (Karageorghis & Demas, 1988). 

Unlike Pyla, some ashlar masonry is present at Maa (two structures[11]), albeit of the least ‘finished’ quality on the island.  “Two major fortification walls at the landward and seaward ends of the promontory were constructed for Floor II.  Later rearrangements and additions were undertaken for Floor I” (Karageorghis & Demas, 1988).  Specifically, the ‘dog leg’ gate, one of two entrances from the northern approach, was sealed off.  It is clear that the walls and the first floor (Floor II) were established as soon as the site was settled because no sherds were used as fill in any of their constructions.  The same cannot be said of the second (and only other) occupation level (Karageorghis & Demas, 1988). 

The cyclopean construction…[of the fortification walls] is paralleled in Cyprus in the LCIIIC fortifications at Enkomi and Sinda and the LCIIIA fortification wall at Kition.  The prototypes of this technique of building are generally thought to be at fortified Hittite capitals in Anatolia where they are found in earlier contexts.  It may have been from there, perhaps via Miletus, that the Mycenaeans learned the technique.  For its use in Cyprus, both Dikaios and Furumark looked to Anatolia for parallels, especially to Bogazkoy and Alishar.  Fortin, in his study of Cypriote fortifications, argues in favor of Mycenaean expertise being utilized in the construction of the fortifications at Maa.  (Karageorghis & Demas, p. 63).

Karageorghis (1997) states, “The Mycenaean origin of the central hearth hall is indisputable; it occurs in Mycenaean palatial ‘megara’ but also in private residences,” which is true.  However, such features are not obvious in the plan of Maa, which Karageorghis (1997) wants to imply.  That is not to say this settlement was not Mycenaean in character; it simply calls into question this particular piece of evidence.  Clearly, however, the excavations of bedrock and sophistication of architecture at the site “imply a commitment to permanency of a sort unexpected at a site that might be described as an isolated military outpost, created in response to some imminent danger” (Karageorghis & Demas, 1988).  And finally, the “material culture at Maa is not significantly different from the local Cypriote material evidence, though innovations do occur, as for example Myc. IIIC:B pottery” (Karageorghis, 1990. p. 26).

Conclusions

Clearly, from deep into the Middle Bronze Age (Amarna Period), Cyprus played a major role in Eastern Mediterranean politico-economic systems.  Whether they were trading gifts with Pharaoh, trying to shirk off the remnants of a waning Hittite hegemony (which is questionable on Cyprus at best) or parlaying with their neighbors in Ugarit, Cypriot activity during the Bronze Age is highly attestable.  But distinguishing ‘native Cypriot Cyprus’ from ‘Mycenaean Cyprus’ is somewhat counterproductive.  Cyprus is, after all, an island, not a maximum security prison.  Cultural dissemination happens, particularly if one’s economy is as integrated with trade as was that of Cyprus. 

To substitute Crete for Cyprus when attempting to analyze the cultural change Cyprus underwent during the Middle and Late Bronze Ages would be a mistake.  But that does not mean the Cretan model should be completely disregarded.  To do so would be to err in the opposite extreme.  The two islands can, perhaps, shed light on each other.  Perhaps the most striking similarity between Crete and Cyprus during the Late Bronze Age is their settlement patterning.  In both cases, settlements tended to become more secure and, particularly with new sites such as Maa and Pyla, were settled with an eye toward defense.  Long-standing, native Cypriote settlements, even though they were not abandoned, certainly adopted this new defensive character, as the cyclopean fortification walls at Enkomi (and fortifications elsewhere on the island) attest.  “Fortified citadels of Mycenaean type are now built in Crete, e.g. the citadel of Kastrokeplala near Heraklion or Orne in the district of Hagios Vasileios in West Crete.  They are similar to citadels in the islands e.g. Koukounaries on Paros or Maa Palaiokastro in Cyprus” (Kanta, 1998. p.52).  The introduction of ashlar masonry and a predominance of LH IIIC wares pervade the island at this time.  But while these features have precedents in the Aegean, one must also remember that such building techniques and pottery were popular throughout the East Mediterranean at this time, not simply Cyprus.  Additionally, “those whom we call in Cypriote archaeology ‘the Achaeans’ did not change the cultural, political and social life of the island completely or overnight” (p. 29) – yet another similarity with Crete, which remained a distinctive cultural entity from mainland Greece, even after falling under Mycenaean control.

Karageorghis (1990) rationalizes the balance of traditional Cypriot locales and practices with foreign elements:

At first the newcomers, probably of mixed origins, must have concentrated their efforts on establishing their economic and political position among the local population as an aristocratic elite, trading in copper and at the same time introducing new techniques in metalwork and new styles in art. (pp. 29-30)

However, despite all the change between LC IIC and LC IIIA, settlement and cemetery locations do not change, suggesting an amalgamation of cultures rather than a cultural hegemony.  The same continuity does not exist in the movement from LC IIIA to LC IIIB, when settlement destruction and abandonment are prevalent on the island (i.e., settlement/population movement occurs).

Unlike Karageorghis, Kanta (1998) does not see a substantial alteration in individual architecture to suggest the ‘Mycenaean megara’: “The lack of Mycenaean-type houses and tombs makes the acceptance of early settlers difficult….  The lack of megaron-type houses is not prohibitive for [the] interpretation” of a Mycenaean presence in Cypriot towns (p. 40).  There are many other cultural elements which seem particularly Mycenaean, which appear at this time (other than the obvious pottery): “Stone corbelled tombs exist on the Greek mainland and in Crete during Mycenaean times.  They also appear at Enkomi in Cyprus” (Kanta, 1998. p. 43).  Stirrup jars from West Crete (Khania) are “found in context of the end of the 13^th-12^th century including LH IIIC pottery, e.g., Pyla and Hala Sultan Tekke” (Kanta, 1998. p. 44).  Simultaneously, White Slip B and White Slip II Cypriot pottery is found at Khania, Crete in LM IIIA and B contexts, respectively (Kanta, 1998. p. 45).  The matter is further complicated by a lack of Cypriot Copper on Crete at a time when Crete was known to be importing copper (no native sources are attested to).  And there is a conspicuous lack of Cretan pottery on Cyprus when Cyprus is known to have become active in the copper trade.  What all this information points to, inasmuch as it points to any one thing, is that the politico-economic relationships of Cyprus to the rest of the Eastern Mediterranean were far too complex for a simple, linear ‘colonization’ theory or a simplified, linear analysis of trade, which took on various forms and guises and was, at times, anything but direct (i.e., from point A to point B).  Likewise, the ethnic makeup of Cyprus at this time is simply not clear.  Maa and Pyla appear to be ‘colonizing’ settlements in that they were foreign settlers who settled an already occupied island.  But the very nature of a coastal settlement, where trade is the economy, makes the distinction between one culturally dominant element from another problematic and, to some extent, counterproductive.

References

Beckman, G.  (1996).  Akkadian/Ugarit.  In A. Bernard Knapp (Ed.), Sources for the history of Cyprus vol. 2: Near Eastern and Aegean texts from the third to the first millennia BC (26-28).  Altamont, NY: Greece and Cyprus Research Center.

Beckman, G.  (1996).  Akkadian/Hattusa.  In A. Bernard Knapp (Ed.), Sources for the history of Cyprus vol. 2: Near Eastern and Aegean texts from the third to the first millennia BC (p. 29).  Altamont, NY: Greece and Cyprus Research Center.

Bennet, J.  (1996).  LinearB/Crete and Greece.  In A. Bernard Knapp (Ed.), Sources for the history of Cyprus vol. 2: Near Eastern and Aegean texts from the third to the first millennia BC (pp. 51-58).  Altamont, NY: Greece and Cyprus Research Center.

Kanta, A.  (1998).  Part I: 16^th-11^th cent. B. C.: Introduction.  In N. Stampolidis, A. Karetsou, & A Kanta (Eds.), Eastern Mediterranean: Cyprus – Dodecanese – Crete: 16^th-6^th cent. B.C. (pp. 29-66).  Heraklion: University of Crete.

Karageorghis, V.  (1985).  Excavations at Kition vol. V: The pre-Phoenician levels.  Part II.  Nicosia: Department of Antiquities.

−−−−  (1990).  The end of the Late Bronze Age in Cyprus.  Nicosia: Pierides Foundation.

−−−−  (1997).  Maa-Palaeokastro and the Late Cypriote Bronze Age: The Late Bronze Age in Cyprus.  In Cyprus Today (35).  Internet: http://www.pio.gov.cy/cyprus_today/jan_jun97/
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Karageorghis V. & Demas, M.  (1984).  Pyla-Kokkinokremos: A Lat 13^th Century B.C. Fortified Settlement in Cyprus.  Nicosia: Department of Antiquities.

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