Experts May Have Located The Oldest Name In Existence, And It’s Not What We Expected

Hailing from the ancient region of Mesopotamia, the tablet is thought to date back 5,000 years — to a time when the first writing was beginning to emerge. But it was brought to the world’s attention in the 21st century, when it featured in a bestselling book. And now, it has fetched an astonishing price at auction, all thanks to its unusual pedigree. 

Does this tablet really feature the oldest ever example of an individual name? And if so, to whom did this moniker belong? Surely, only a person of great significance would have received such an honor? The answer, it turns out, is surprising — and it reveals some strange truths about the ancient world.

Today, the act of scribbling down our name is something to which we rarely give a second thought. But back in the fourth millennium B.C., such a task was far from easy. After all, literacy was only in its infancy at the time. And surely, those capable of such a skill would have been reluctant to waste it on such frivolities?

According to reports, the first written records came from Mesopotamia, the region of West Asia sometimes referred to as the Cradle of Civilization. Centered on the rivers Tigris and Euphrates, it’s mostly in modern-day Iraq, but includes parts of Iran, Turkey, Syria, and Kuwait too. Here, people began using cuneiform script to communicate important messages relating to commerce and accounts, perhaps as early as 3400 B.C. And within a few centuries, this method had spread to ancient Egypt as well.

In Egypt, as in Mesopotamia, people began using symbols to communicate information, resulting in the hieroglyphs that famously grace the pharaohs’ memorials and tombs. But that doesn’t mean that all ancient languages are directly descended from each other. In fact, as the British Library’s website explains, experts believe that the concept of written text evolved separately across different places and points in time.

Take, for example, the language that emerged in China towards the beginning of the 2nd millennium B.C. At the time, the rulers of the late Shang dynasty were in power, and symbols representing specific issues were carved onto animal bones for use in divination. Thousands of years later, traces of these markings can be seen in the Chinese characters used today.

Of course, Shang-dynasty China and Mesopotamia were hundreds of years — and thousands of miles — apart. And there was an even bigger gap between these civilizations and Mesoamerica, where the written language emerged some time between the 9th and 6th centuries B.C. On several separate occasions, then, humans independently developed the ability to communicate through symbols and words.

But language isn’t just used for keeping records, of course. And it only takes a visit to a graffiti-ridden suburb or a popular tourist destination to see that humans can’t resist making their mark. So were the people of Mesopotamia and ancient Egypt any different? And if not, who was the first to leave their name behind?

Because the early history of the written word is complex and multi-faceted, it is difficult to determine exactly which example constitutes the very first written name. But there are plenty of contenders for this illustrious title. And not all of them have quite the origin story that you might expect.

Thousands of years ago, when writing was first emerging, the skill would likely have been restricted to high-ranking scholars. As such, you would be forgiven for thinking that the first recorded names generally belonged to some influential noble or king. And in some cases, you would be right to make that assumption.  

Take, for example, the case of Iry-Hor, a king who reigned over Upper Egypt towards the beginning of the 32nd century B.C., before the kingdom was unified under one ruler. When his tomb in the ancient city of Abydos was excavated in 1902 archaeologists discovered a distinctive pictograph on the artifacts within.

In the form of a falcon, this pictograph has been taken by many to represent Iry-Hor, making it among the first examples of a written name. But some have argued that the symbol denotes a title, rather than the moniker of any one individual. And this argument is strengthened by the absence of a serekh, a type of marking typically used to signify royalty in Egyptian hieroglyphs. 

Meanwhile, there are some who have proposed Ka, a king who may have ascended to the throne after Iry-Hor, as an alternative candidate for history’s oldest name. During the same excavations in 1902 his tomb was also located — complete with vessels bearing a distinctive inscription. And this time, the serekh was present, suggesting that this was indeed the resting place of royalty.

But was the symbol Ka’s name, or something else entirely? While some believe the etchings could indeed be a moniker, others have cast doubt on this assertion. And today, most Egyptologists interpret the writing as a generic term for king. But with so much uncertainty, this ruler is definitely in the running alongside Iry-Hor.

And he’s not the only one. Around the same time as the reigns of Iry-Hor and Ka, another king, known as Scorpion I, ruled over Upper Egypt. Like the others, he was buried at Abydos and his tomb later excavated by modern archaeologists. And while it had clearly been looted long ago, some fascinating artifacts still remained.

Within the tomb, archaeologists discovered the remains of numerous pottery jars, each inscribed with a scorpion symbol. And that wasn’t all. According to reports, the vessels still contained traces of the wine that they once held. By dating this, experts were able to pinpoint the king’s death to circa 3150 B.C.

But the vessels found inside his tomb were not the only written evidence of Scorpion I. In 1995 a series of markings were found in the Egyptian desert near the ancient settlement of Thebes. Depicting a battle which once took place between kings, the graffito bears the same symbol that was found emblazoned on the monarch’s funerary goods. 

Scorpion I, then, seems to be the strongest Egyptian contender — at least as far as concrete evidence is concerned. But, of course, the people of the Nile were not the first to utilize the written word. And there is mounting evidence that it may be the Mesopotamians who can lay claim to the world’s oldest name. 

Unlike the kings of ancient Egypt, though, these people were not the great rulers and scholars that you might expect. Take, for example, the candidate known as Gal-Sal. According to reports, this name first appeared on a tablet from the early 31st century B.C. And while it might not be quite as old as some of the other examples, its content is a lot more clear-cut.

Found in the remains of Shuruppak in what is now Iraq, the tablet is written in an ancient, pre-cuneiform script. As per website History Collection, according to experts the symbols translate as “Two slaves held by Gal-Sal.” And if that isn’t impressive enough, the text goes on to give the names of the individuals in question: En-pap X and Sukkalgir.

Gal-Sal, though, was not a king like Scorpion I or Iry-Hor. Instead, he was just an average citizen, recorded — for whatever reason — along with the name of his slaves. And he’s not the only average Joe who has found himself in the running for the honor of world’s oldest name. 

In fact, although all the monikers above have their supporters, there is one stand-out candidate for the title — and he was a commoner just like Gal-Sal. Found on a tablet that may date as far back as 3300 B.C., this name has recently gained fame as the earliest ever recorded.

According to the arts publication Antiques Trade Gazette, the tablet was one of several discovered in a temple in southern Iraq, where the Sumerian city of Uruk once stood. At the time, this metropolis was the biggest in the world, with as many as 80,000 inhabitants living within its walls. 

But it wasn’t just the sheer size of Uruk that made it such an advanced city-state. Remarkably, its citizens also practiced detailed record-keeping, using their early writing techniques to document activities such as trade. Eventually, tablets inscribed with this data were stored in a temple, where they would come to light thousands of years down the line.

Now, one of these tablets has found itself in the limelight after languishing in obscurity for millennia — with nobody guessing just how significant its symbols and markings might be. In fact, it didn’t appear in modern records until the 1950s, when it came into the possession of a collector named Hans Erlenmeyer.

A chemist by trade, the German-Swiss Erlenmeyer became a prolific collector of Mesopotamian and ancient Greek art, beginning in the 1940s and continuing for two decades. Some years after his death in 1988 many of his possessions were sold off to raise funds for a foundation established in his name.

The artifact in question, it seems, found its way to auction at Christie’s in London, along with 77 other tablets apparently carved by the same author. And from there, it came into the hands of Martin Schøyen, the heir of a Norwegian shipping magnate. The younger Schøyen has built up an impressive private collection of early written material. 

To begin with, the artifact was simply described as an “administrative tablet.” And at first glance, that seems to be an accurate description of the ancient object. Made from clay, it features a series of symbols carved into its surface, probably made using a reed as a stylus. And while the script isn’t totally understood by modern linguists, it is close enough to some later languages that we are able to translate its meaning.

Unlike many ancient artifacts, though, this isn’t a record of any great person or event. Instead, the tablet is the equivalent of an accounting book, noting the details of a barley shipment delivered to a specific location. Using symbols, holes, and depressions, the unknown author was able to document the nature of the goods as well as the amount received over a certain period of time.

According to reports, the main body of the tablet translates to “29,086 measures barley 37 months.” But while this in itself is remarkable, there is another element to the artifact which is even more astounding. Towards the end of the text, you see, are two symbols placed next to each other in a previously unknown arrangement.  

What we do know, though, is the individual sounds that both of these symbols represent. And when taken together, they form the word “Kushim.” Because this word is not known to scholars of ancient languages — and because of its location within the text — many have concluded that it is actually a name.

Specifically, experts believe that Kushim was the name of the accountant who signed off on the barley shipment. So is this the oldest example of an individual moniker ever recorded? Certainly, bestselling author Yuval Noah Harari seems to think so. In his 2011 non-fiction hit Sapiens: A Brief History of Humankind he retells the story of the Sumerian bureaucrat who accidentally made history.

Eventually, Harari’s book sold over 12 million copies in different languages around the globe. And with this surge in popularity, the story of Kushim became much more widely known. But what happened to the man who, by total fluke, would go down in history as the bearer of the world’s oldest name? 

In their 1993 tome Archaic Bookkeeping, various authors note that the name Kushim has been spotted on at least 18 different tablets from the same geographic and chronological period. And, according to records, scores of similar artifacts were initially held in Erlenmeyer’s collection — although they’re now spread across the world.

This accountant, then, must have been a fairly prolific one. Or perhaps there is another explanation for the frequency of these distinct symbols? Some have suggested, in fact, that they might not not represent an individual name at all. Instead, they could be translated as a generic job title, which would explain their appearance across several different tablets. 

If true, this theory throws the title of world’s oldest name out for speculation once more. But such doubts did little to quell the interest that surrounded what has become known as the Kushim Tablet when it came up for auction in July 2020. To mark Schøyen’s birthday, a sale entitled “The History of Western Script” was held at London’s Bloomsbury Auctions.

By this point, of course, the significance of the Kushim Tablet had been well-established. And as a result, experts estimated that the artifact could fetch as much as £90,000 — at present the equivalent of almost $120,000. Speaking to Antiques Trade Gazette in 2020 expert Timothy Bolton explained the appeal of the historic object.

“This is a world-class item, of fundamental importance to the history of writing, and in flawless condition,” Bolton said. “It is not a simple task to assign an estimate or even find any comparables in the market.” And clearly, the interested parties who turned out for the London auction agreed. In the end, the tablet fetched a staggering £175,000, or just over $225,000 at current rates.

Today, the Kushim Tablet is held by a private collector, its reputation for containing the world’s earliest name firmly cemented in popular culture — even as experts continue the debate. But archaeology is an evolving science, and new finds are emerging all the time. Might an even older example be lurking somewhere in the ruins of Mesopotamia or even Mesoamerica, ready to turn history on its head once more?