Who Owns the Ankh?
The ankh has traveled a long way from the temples and tombs of ancient Kemet.
Today, you might see it on a pendant, in a museum display, in a music video, or worn by someone expressing a connection to African heritage. For some, it represents life. For others, it is a reminder of ancestral knowledge, cultural continuity, and the importance of reclaiming African history.
But how did an ancient Egyptian hieroglyph become such a recognizable symbol around the world?
To understand that journey, we have to look beyond the ancient world. We must also examine the modern history of Egyptology, the global fascination with ancient Egypt, the influence of popular culture, and the role of African-descended communities in reclaiming symbols connected to the continent’s past.
This is where history becomes especially interesting, because the story is not simply about a symbol changing meaning. It is also about who gets to interpret the past, who controls cultural heritage, and whose voices are included in the historical record.
In Part 1, we examined common myths about the ankh and explored what ancient Egyptian evidence can tell us about its meaning. Now let’s follow the symbol into the modern era.
Napoleon’s Campaign and the European Fascination With Egypt
In 1798, Napoleon Bonaparte launched a military campaign in Egypt. His expedition included not only soldiers but also scholars, scientists, engineers, and artists who documented Egyptian monuments, landscapes, and antiquities.
The campaign was part of a broader European fascination with ancient Egypt, often called Egyptomania. European writers and artists had been interested in Egypt for centuries, but the campaign and its publications helped intensify that interest.
The scholars’ observations and illustrations were published in the multivolume Description de l’Égypte, issued between 1809 and 1828. The work helped circulate images and information about Egyptian monuments and artifacts among European audiences.
One of the most consequential events of the campaign was the discovery of the Rosetta Stone in 1799. The stone contained a decree written in three scripts: hieroglyphic, Demotic, and ancient Greek. The Greek text helped scholars work toward understanding the other two scripts.
Jean-François Champollion announced a major breakthrough in deciphering Egyptian hieroglyphs in 1822, building on earlier work by other scholars.
These developments helped establish the foundations of modern Egyptology and opened new possibilities for studying ancient Egyptian texts.
But we should not tell this story as if European scholars simply arrived in an empty intellectual landscape and created knowledge from nothing.
Egypt was a living country with its own people, history, and relationship to its ancient monuments. Napoleon’s expedition was also a military invasion. The movement of antiquities, the unequal power relations surrounding archaeological work, and the later control of artifacts by foreign institutions all belong to the history of how ancient Egypt came to be studied and displayed.
Recognizing those realities does not require us to dismiss every scholarly contribution made during this period. The decipherment of hieroglyphs was a genuine intellectual achievement. The point is to understand the achievement within its historical circumstances rather than separating scholarship from the political and colonial environment in which it developed.
The Rosetta Stone itself eventually came into British possession following the French defeat in Egypt and is now held by the British Museum.
This history raises a question that remains important today: Who has the authority to interpret, preserve, and display a people’s cultural heritage?
Tutankhamun and the Ankh’s Journey Into Popular Culture
A century after Napoleon’s campaign, another event transformed the public image of ancient Egypt.
In November 1922, Howard Carter and his team reached the tomb of Tutankhamun in the Valley of the Kings. The discovery attracted international attention, and the objects recovered from the tomb helped fuel a new wave of Egyptomania in Europe and North America.
Ancient Egyptian-inspired clothing, jewelry, decorative arts, and popular entertainment became fashionable. Images associated with pharaohs, pyramids, mummies, and hieroglyphs entered commercial culture on a much larger scale.
The ankh fit naturally into this visual vocabulary. It was distinctive, recognizable, and connected with the powerful idea of life beyond death. Its shape made it easy to reproduce in jewelry and decorative objects, while its ancient associations gave it an aura of mystery.
However, the popular image of ancient Egypt was not always an accurate reflection of its history. Newspaper stories, commercial products, films, and sensational accounts often mixed archaeological discoveries with fantasy. The supposed curse of Tutankhamun’s tomb, for example, became part of the public imagination despite being a sensationalized interpretation of events rather than an established archaeological finding.
The result was a curious mixture: genuine historical discoveries circulated alongside romanticized and sometimes misleading images of ancient Egypt.
The ankh became part of this wider phenomenon. Its visibility grew, but greater visibility did not always mean greater understanding.
That distinction matters today. A symbol can become globally popular while its original context becomes simplified, distorted, or overlooked.
From Ancient Symbol to Modern Fashion and Music
As the ankh circulated through popular culture, it acquired associations beyond those found in ancient Egyptian inscriptions.
It appeared in jewelry, fashion, film, and music. Some people wore it because they were interested in ancient Egypt; others were drawn to its distinctive shape, its associations with life, or its mysterious appearance.
In gothic fashion and alternative subcultures, the ankh could be used to evoke death, immortality, ancient mystery, or supernatural themes. Popular entertainment sometimes placed it within stories about vampires, magic, and hidden knowledge.
Those uses tell us something about modern culture, but we should not mistake them for evidence about ancient Egyptian beliefs.
The meaning of an object can change as it travels. A modern designer might use the ankh as an artistic motif, while someone else might wear it as a personal statement about ancestry or spirituality. Neither use automatically tells us what the sign meant in a temple scene thousands of years ago.
The same caution applies to music and visual art. African diasporic musicians and artists have drawn inspiration from ancient Egypt in many different ways, sometimes using the ankh alongside other symbols associated with African identity, cosmic themes, and cultural memory.
Such artistic expressions deserve to be studied in their own right. They show how people reinterpret the past to address questions in the present.
The key is to recognize that there are multiple historical layers: the ankh in ancient Egyptian society, the ankh in later cultural traditions, and the ankh as a modern symbol.
Those layers are connected, but they are not identical.
The Ankh and the Reclamation of African Identity
For many people of African descent, the ankh carries a meaning that goes beyond its popularity as jewelry.
It can serve as a visible connection to an African civilization whose achievements have often been misunderstood, minimized, or presented without sufficient attention to the African context.
The ankh’s importance in this regard is tied to a broader history of African historical reclamation. Across the twentieth century, Black intellectuals, educators, artists, and activists challenged narratives that portrayed Africa as lacking complex civilizations, sophisticated systems of thought, or significant contributions to world history.
Scholars such as Cheikh Anta Diop played an influential role in debates about African history and the place of ancient Egypt within the continent’s broader historical story. Their work encouraged generations of readers to question inherited assumptions and investigate Africa’s intellectual and cultural traditions more seriously.
Pan-African movements and Black cultural movements also helped make African history a source of identity, education, and political reflection. Ancient Egyptian imagery became one of several ways artists and communities expressed an interest in African civilizations and their legacies.
The ankh became a recognizable emblem within that wider process.
For some, wearing the symbol is a declaration of cultural pride. For others, it represents a personal commitment to learning about African history or an interest in the spiritual traditions of ancient Egypt.
People do not all use the symbol in the same way, and we should not assume that every person wearing an ankh has the same beliefs.
What matters is understanding why the symbol can carry such weight. It offers a tangible point of connection to a civilization whose monuments, writing, and artistic traditions continue to inspire people across the world.
Reclamation, however, should not mean that we stop asking questions. It should encourage us to study more carefully.
If we are reclaiming the ankh as part of African heritage, we should learn about its ancient Egyptian context, recognize the diversity of African histories, and avoid reducing the entire continent to one civilization or one symbol.
Ancient Kemet is a vital part of African history. It is not the whole of African history.
Reading the Ankh Alongside the Djed and Was
To appreciate the ankh’s wider symbolic setting, it helps to look at other signs that appear alongside it in ancient Egyptian art.
Two important examples are the djed pillar and the was scepter.
The ankh is associated with life.
The djed is commonly associated with stability and endurance.
The was scepter is associated with power or dominion.
These descriptions provide useful starting points, but the symbols should be interpreted within their particular contexts rather than treated as a universal formula that explains every Egyptian image.
Ancient Egyptian art frequently combines signs, objects, and figures to communicate ideas. The ankh, djed, and was can appear together, creating a visual relationship among life, stability, and power.
When studying these combinations, pay attention to who holds the symbols, where they appear, and what the accompanying inscriptions communicate.
For example, an ankh in the hand of a deity may communicate something different from an ankh used as a personal amulet. A combination of symbols in a temple relief may carry a different emphasis from a similar combination on a small object.
This is one reason I encourage readers to look closely at the primary evidence. Symbols do not exist in isolation. Their meanings emerge from their relationships with the wider artistic, religious, and historical setting.
In future discussions through Ujumbe Media, we will continue exploring these signs and the ways ancient Egyptian visual language expressed ideas about life, order, stability, and authority.
The goal is not to force every symbol into one neat interpretation. It is to develop the historical knowledge needed to read the evidence more carefully.
Reclamation Requires More Than Wearing the Symbol
There is nothing wrong with wearing an ankh because you appreciate its beauty or because it connects you with African history. Symbols can be meaningful in personal and cultural life.
But if we want to move beyond fashion, we have to do the work of learning.
That means distinguishing ancient evidence from modern interpretations. It means recognizing that scholars debate some questions while other aspects of the symbol’s history are well documented. It means resisting the temptation to accept a claim simply because it sounds mysterious or confirms what we already believe.
It also means taking African people and African scholarship seriously in discussions about the continent’s past.
The history of Egyptology reminds us that knowledge is produced within social and political settings. Who conducts research, who owns artifacts, whose names appear in the records, and whose interpretations receive attention are all important questions.
At the same time, responsible historical study requires us to evaluate arguments on their evidence. A claim does not become true simply because it is made in the name of reclamation, just as a claim does not become false simply because it challenges an established institution.
We should be willing to examine the evidence, question assumptions, and revise our understanding when stronger information becomes available.
That is how reclamation becomes an intellectual practice rather than a slogan.
The Ankh’s Legacy Is Still Being Written
The ankh began as an ancient Egyptian hieroglyph associated with life. It appeared in religious imagery, royal scenes, amulets, and other objects. Over time, it became part of later cultural traditions and eventually entered global popular culture.
Its modern significance reflects that long journey.
Today, the ankh can represent ancient Egyptian heritage, personal identity, artistic inspiration, or a broader interest in African history. Its meaning depends in part on the person using it and the context in which it appears.
But its historical foundation remains important. The symbol’s connection to ancient Kemet is not a modern invention. It is documented in the surviving artistic and archaeological record.
We do not have to choose between honoring that legacy and studying it critically. In fact, those responsibilities belong together.
The ankh reminds us that African history is not simply something to admire from a distance. It is something to investigate, teach, discuss, and preserve. The more we learn about the evidence, the better equipped we are to challenge distortions without replacing them with new ones.
So the next time you see an ankh, look beyond its shape. Ask where it came from, how it was used, and what its history can teach us about the civilization that produced it.
That is how we turn recognition into knowledge.
Continue the Journey With Ujumbe Media
At Ujumbe Media, we explore African history, ancient civilizations, symbols, and intellectual traditions through a source-based approach. We believe that reclaiming the past begins with studying it carefully and sharing what we learn with others.
If you want to go deeper into the ankh and other symbols of ancient Kemet, explore my book Decoding the Symbols: A Beginner’s Guide to Kemetic Spiritual Science and continue following the King Cam Ujumbe Podcast.
In our work, we will keep asking questions, examining the evidence, and exploring the rich historical traditions of Africa.
Keep studying. Keep questioning. Follow the evidence. The message continues.
Suggested reading and research: The Fondation Napoléon’s historical material on the Egyptian campaign and the Rosetta Stone; the University of Oxford’s discussion of the 1922 Tutankhamun discovery and the Egyptian members of Carter’s team; and museum collections documenting the ankh in ancient Egyptian art and personal objects.
Check out our new book
DECODING THE SYMBOLS: A Beginner’s Guide to Kemetic Spiritual Science
DECODING THE SYMBOLS: A Beginner’s Guide to Kemetic Spiritual Science [Cameron Sr., Marques D.] on Amazon.com. *FREE*…a.co
