We often associate it with powerful Egyptian rulers, but its origins are a bit…unconventional, to say the least. Buckle up, because the Book of Jasher has a wild story to tell about how a penniless wanderer named Rikayon became the first Pharaoh.
So, here's the scene. Rikayon, a wise but impoverished man from the land of Shinar, decides he needs a career change. He heads to Egypt, hoping to impress Oswiris, the King of Egypt, with his wisdom. The only catch? King Oswiris has a rather peculiar schedule. According to the inhabitants, he only appears in public one day a year to hear petitions and deliver judgment. Imagine that annual performance review!
Rikayon arrives in Egypt, learns about the King’s once-a-year appearance, and is understandably bummed out. What's a guy to do? He finds himself in a ruined bakehouse, hungry and sleepless, wondering how he's going to survive, let alone get an audience with the King.
He tries selling vegetables, but it's a disaster. He's ridiculed, robbed, and left even more despondent. But Rikayon is nothing if not resourceful. After another night of soul-searching in the old bake house, he hatches a plan. A very bold plan.
He hires thirty burly guys, arms them, and stations them at the Egyptian sepulchre – basically, a burial ground. His instructions? "Thus saith the king," Rikayon tells them (totally making it up!), "no one gets buried here without paying 200 pieces of silver!" Talk about a shakedown.
And unbelievably, it works! For eight months, Rikayon and his crew rake in the cash – silver, gold, horses, you name it. He becomes a wealthy man by essentially holding funerals hostage. It's definitely not in line with traditional Jewish values concerning respect for the dead (kavod hamet), but hey, desperate times, right?
Inevitably, word gets back to King Oswiris. On his one public appearance day of the year, the people of Egypt flood him with complaints. "May the king live forever!" they cry, before laying into him. "What's this nonsense about taxing the dead? We're used to yearly taxes from the living, but this is outrageous! The whole city is being ruined!"
The King is furious because, of course, he knows nothing about it. He demands to know who's behind this extortion racket. The people point the finger at Rikayon. Oswiris orders Rikayon and his men to be brought before him.
But Rikayon isn't stupid. He knows he's in trouble, so he prepares… a grand entrance. He gathers a thousand beautifully dressed children on horseback, sends them ahead as a gift. He loads up on silver, gold, precious stones, and a magnificent horse as a personal present for the king. It’s a scene! The king, his servants, and the entire population of Egypt are stunned by Rikayon's wealth and audacity.
Rikayon bows low before the King. Oswiris, intrigued, asks him to explain himself. Rikayon, using all his wisdom and charm, spins a story that impresses everyone. He finds favor in the King's eyes, and with the people of Egypt. They are wowed by his "excellent speeches."
The King, completely won over, declares, "Thy name shall no more be called Rikayon but Pharaoh shall be thy name, since thou didst exact a tax from the dead!" So, according to the Book of Jasher, that’s where the title "Pharaoh" comes from: a nickname given to a guy who ran a protection racket at the local cemetery!
And it doesn't end there. The King and his subjects love Rikayon so much that they make him a prefect under the king. Rikayon, now Pharaoh, governs Egypt, cleverly usurping more and more power. He taxes everyone, but the people adore him anyway.
Finally, the Egyptians decree that every king who reigns after him will also be called Pharaoh. And that, the Book of Jasher tells us, is how the title "Pharaoh" became synonymous with the rulers of Egypt.
So, what do we make of this story? It's a wild tale of ambition, ingenuity, and a healthy dose of chutzpah. It's a reminder that sometimes, the most unexpected people can rise to power, and that history is often stranger (and funnier) than we imagine. It also leaves you wondering: how much of our history is shaped by individuals who bent the rules - or outright broke them - to get ahead?