It's a tale of ambition, cunning, and a whole lot of grave-robbing... or, well, almost.
Our story begins not in Egypt, but in the land of Shinar. There lived a man named Rakyon – meaning, quite literally, "Have-naught." According to Ginzberg's retelling in Legends of the Jews, he was wise and handsome, but unfortunately, also poor. Finding it impossible to make a living, he decided to head to Egypt, hoping to impress King Ashwerosh, son of 'Anam, with his wisdom. He figured, rightly, that if he played his cards right, he could become a great man.
But Egypt had its own quirks. Rakyon discovered that the king lived in seclusion, only appearing to the public once a year to hear petitions. So, how was our "Have-naught" supposed to get ahead?
Penniless and hungry, Rakyon was forced to sleep in a ruin. The next day, he tried selling vegetables. But as fate would have it, he ran into some ruffians who stole his goods and mocked him. Talk about adding insult to injury!
Another night in the ruin, and a plan began to hatch in Rakyon's mind. It was… audacious, to say the least. He gathered thirty strong men and went to the graveyard. There, he declared, in the king's name, that everyone had to pay two hundred pieces of silver for each burial! Otherwise, no interment would be allowed.
Can you believe it?
But here's the thing: it worked. Within eight months, Rakyon amassed a fortune in silver, gold, and jewels. He even built up a private, armed force. Talk about a glow-up!
Inevitably, on the day the king appeared before his people, they were furious. "What is this tax on the dead?" they cried. "Has such a thing ever happened, that we must pay to bury our loved ones? We know the king takes taxes from the living, but from the dead too? It is ruining the city!"
King Ashwerosh, completely unaware of Rakyon’s scheme, was enraged. He demanded that Rakyon and his armed men appear before him.
But Rakyon wasn't stupid. He came bearing gifts. A thousand youths and maidens, riding steeds and dressed in finery, preceded him. Then, he presented the king with gold, silver, diamonds, and a magnificent horse.
Now, King Ashwerosh wasn't immune to flattery, or to bribes, apparently. Rakyon, with his silver tongue, explained his actions in a way that not only won over the king but the entire court! The king declared, "You shall no longer be called Rakyon, 'Have-naught,' but Pharaoh, 'Paymaster,' for you collected taxes from the dead!"
And that, according to this legend, is how the title "Pharaoh" came to be.
The story doesn't end there. So impressed were they by Rakyon, that the king, the nobles, and the people all agreed to put him in charge of the realm. Under Ashwerosh's authority, Pharaoh administered law and justice throughout the year. Only on that single day when the king appeared did Ashwerosh himself pass judgment.
Over time, through cunning and power, Pharaoh eventually usurped the royal authority entirely, collecting taxes from everyone in Egypt. Yet, incredibly, he remained beloved by the people. And so, it was decreed that every ruler of Egypt would henceforth bear the name Pharaoh.
It's quite a story, isn't it? A rags-to-riches tale, fueled by audacity and a questionable business model. It makes you wonder what other surprising origins lie hidden within the names and titles we take for granted. What other figures in history, perhaps, rose to power through similarly unexpected means? And what does it say about us, that we sometimes admire those who, like the first Pharaoh, are willing to bend the rules to get ahead?