FALL 2026
From Crisis to Monument: Hatshepsut’s Mortuary Temple and Ashoka’s Pillars as Strategic Branding Campaigns
Emanuely Carmo
Lone Star College
I am Emanuelly Carmo, a first-year student in the Honors College at Lone Star, with a passion for learning about business, culture, and global engagement. I plan to pursue a degree in Business Administration and build an internationally focused career, most likely in Human Resources.
ABSTRACT
With an aim to investigate branding in ancient contexts, this research explores the relationship between architectural investment, religious ideology, and political communication by comparing Hatshepsut’s Mortuary Temple with King Ashoka’s Pillars and Edicts. While literature does apply branding to ancient contexts, few studies examine monuments under this lens. First, scholars Moore and Reid’s branding theory application to ancient civilizations, as well as Butters, DeMarais, and Earle’s materialization of ideology is established. The historical context of Hatshepsut’s rise to power and construction of her Mortuary temple is analyzed, as well as the specific visual and iconographic cues that brand Hatshepsut’s image. Finally, a cross-cultural comparison is conducted with King Ashoka’s pillars, exploring how a different crisis led to a similar “branding” need. Through the strategic placement of her temple, as well as the architectural design, the masculine-appearing statues, and porticos within the temple, it is evident that Hatshepsut chose her Mortuary Temple at Deir El-Bahari as her primary, concentrated branding investment in response to her legitimacy crisis. In contrast, King Ashoka built various pillars, all with similar Buddhist symbols, and inscribed written edicts throughout his empire as a distributed investment, disseminating the Buddhist principle of dhamma to “re-brand” his image as a righteous king. Ultimately, this study reveals that ancient rulers ordered the construction of monuments in response to the crises they faced, to communicate their power and ideology. Effective branding, just like monuments, is an investment in creating a long-lasting ideology, which is evident in these rulers’ long-lasting impact within their respective societies. Future research could apply these frameworks to monuments in other ancient societies, such as Ancient China or Rome.
INTRODUCTION
Long before modern politicians hired marketing teams or launched their campaigns, rulers were already investing in their ‘brand’ by carving their ideology into cliffs or raising it into stone pillars. Monumental art and architecture throughout history have been built for many purposes and have played a critical role in shaping the identity of ancient civilizations, reflecting their political, religious, and cultural values. While scholars have studied monuments as religious or artistic expressions, less attention has been paid to analyzing them as strategic branding campaigns. Though it is not the first concept that comes to mind when describing many ancient works, they are essentially large-scale marketing projects, used to brand an empire in various ways.
With the aim of exploring branding in ancient contexts, this paper seeks to investigate a relationship between architectural investment, religious ideology, and political communication in the way ancient rulers used monumental architecture as branding to establish their kingship as legitimate, powerful and divinely connected. As a business major with a particular interest in marketing, and a fascination with ancient Egypt and historical monuments, I sought to investigate whether branding had ancient origins. Thus, the application of modern branding frameworks to Hatshepsut and Ashoka’s architectural investment in response to their respective legitimacy crises allowed me to further my understanding of the study of marketing and branding.
There are precedents for the application of branding in ancient times. In their research, Professor Moore and Reid investigated the creation of early “brands” in ancient civilizations, or what they call proto brands.1 They insist that brands, even in ancient times, convey information, such as origin and quality, and image or meaning, such as power, value, or personality.2 Essentially, ancient rulers used architecture to communicate information, such as what they achieved, and their image, or who they were. Researchers Butters, DeMarais, and Earle claim that ideology must be materialized in order to be controlled.3 Monuments are a clear example of this, since they are permanent, visible, and material expressions of power. Since brands, according to Moore and Reid, convey image, such as power, this study argues that ancient rulers, such as Hatshepsut and Ashoka, created brands through their monuments not just to legitimize their power, but to materialize and disseminate their political ideology through strategic architectural investment.
The first ruler this study will analyze is Hatshepsut, who was a female pharaoh in the New Kingdom that ruled from 1479-1458 BC. Egyptian succession ideology favored male heirs, yet she declared herself pharaoh, leading to an unprecedented legitimacy crisis. In response, she strategically invested in her massive Mortuary Temple at Deir el-Bahari, which was designed to materialize her claims to divine legitimacy and authority.
This study will then comparatively analyze the case of King Ashoka, of the Mauryan empire, who ruled in 268-232 BCE. After the brutal Kalinga War, which left 100,000 dead, Ashoka was known as a cruel and violent ruler. His strategic response was a 26-year building campaign, during which he built over 40 stone pillars throughout his empire, inscribed with moral teachings which served to rebrand his image as a righteous Buddhist dharma king.
Through the establishment of the historical context for Hatshepsut and Ashoka’s rule, as well as the comparative analysis of these monuments and iconography using branding theory and materialization of ideology frameworks, this study seeks to reveal how different crises led to
different architectural strategies, ultimately illuminating universal principles of political communication.
1 Karl Moore and Susan Reid, “The Birth of Brand: 4000 Years of Branding History”, 5.
2 Moore and Reid, 5.
3 Butters, DeMarais, Earle, “Ideology, Materialization, and Power Strategies” 2.
HATSHEPSU ANALYSIS
Hatshepsut’s unusual rise to the throne as a female pharaoh led to the creation of a legitimacy crisis. Hatshepsut was the daughter of King Thutmose I and his principal wife, Ahmose. She later married Thutmose II, her half-brother, who reigned for a few years, during which he had a daughter with Hatshepsut, but ultimately, his secondary wife, Isis, gave birth to his son and heir, Thutmose III.4 Thutmose II died while Thutmose III was just a child, so Hatshepsut, his step-mother/aunt, assumed the throne as a regent, and later as co-regent.5 Pharaonic succession in 18th dynasty Egypt was typically only accomplished with the male heir, so even though Hatshepsut was of royal birth, she was still female, therefore rendering her assumption of power as uncommon for the time. Moreover, Scholar Rachel Ripley argues that because Hatshepsut’s stepson, Thutmosis III, was already on the throne, her claim to power was a break in tradition that required the “production and dissemination of a new official historical narrative justifying her ascent and reign”.6 Thus, due to her unusual political position, a legitimacy crisis was born.
Facing the challenge of establishing her legitimacy as a female pharaoh in a patriarchal system, Hatshepsut ordered the construction of her massive Mortuary Temple as her primary branding investment, specifically choosing its location to align herself with previous pharaohs. Historically, it was common practice for pharaohs to undertake building programs to spread their ideology or legitimize their ruling, especially if they did not properly meet laws of succession, as in Hatshepsut’s case.7 Hatshepsut’s Mortuary Temple is located at Deir el-Bahari, on the west bank of the Nile river, in close proximity to the valley of kings, a royal necropolis where many kings also built temples and royal tombs. It is important to note that there is a Pharaoh who also built his mortuary temple at Deir el-Bahari prior to Hatshepsut: Mentuhotep II of the 11th dynasty, who, by reunifying Egypt, ushered Egypt into a new golden era, known as the Middle Kingdom.8 Considering Mentuhotep II’s importance in Egyptian history, an essential question arises: why did Hatshepsut build her temple in such close proximity to Mentuhotep II’s? It is possible that she wished to align herself ideologically and politically with his accomplishments, essentially implying she too was bringing a golden age upon Egypt. The temple’s physical placement materializes her ideological claim as a legitimate female pharaoh. Thus, the decision to place Hatshepsut’s temple in such close proximity with Mentuhotep II’s temple and the Valley of Kings was likely strategically made because she wished to connect her own reign to the narrative of legitimate kingship, establishing her authority and further disseminating the idea that she belonged on the throne.
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Figure 1. Mortuary Temple of Queen Hatshepsut. ca. 1478-1458 B.C.E. (Dynasty XVIII). https://jstor.org/stable/community.18121644.
The mortuary temple’s rock-cut architectural design and innovative elements communicated Hatshepsut’s unique identity as a female pharaoh, functioning as a brand differentiation strategy.
First, it is important to note that the mortuary temple was built at the base of immensely tall limestone cliffs.9 These cliffs, in their natural form, uniquely contrast the temple’s structured and geometric nature, meaning the location was possibly likely to reassure the people of Egypt of Hatshepsut’s stability and permanence. This idea also manifests itself in the temple’s rock-cut design, which is mainly made from limestone, with certain features in red granite and sandstone.10 The use of limestone, a valuable material commonly used in Egyptian monuments, was a strategic choice made, further exemplifying Hatshepsut’s connection to traditional pharaonic building in order to legitimize her reign. Scholar Dieter Arnold visually analyzes Hatshepsut’s Mortuary Temple, breaking down the main parts of the temple and their significance, while simultaneously comparing it to Mentuhotep II’s temple, which scholars believe was the inspiration.11 Temples surrounded by open colonnades, such as Mentuhotep II’s temple, as well as Hatshepsut’s mortuary temple, are called ambulatory temples, and were popularized during Egypt’s Eighteenth Dynasty.12 The use of colonnades in this case are a break from tradition, because though ambulatory temples grew in popularity, most temples throughout Egyptian history were closed off from the outside, and only had colonnades along the interior.13 This unique architectural decision functioned as brand differentiation, because it visually isolated her image and subsequent kingship from her ancestors as a solution to her legitimacy crisis.
Figure 2. Carole Reeves. Mortuary Temple of Queen Hatshepsut, photograph, JSTOR, 1989. https://jstor.org/stable/community.24808350.
In order to align herself with male pharaonic ideals, Hatshepsut constructed various statues, placed outside and within her Mortuary Temple, depicting herself in typically masculine ways. One example of this is her sphinx statues, which were originally placed lining the entrance to the temple. The sphinx, which is a common symbol used by Egyptian rulers, typically in the entrance to their temples, represents royal power and divine protection. Hatshepsut is depicted wearing a typical male pharaonic beard, as well as traditional pharaonic headwear. Hatshepsut “materialized” her claim to the masculine role of pharaoh by wearing typically male regalia and using male symbolism since she essentially placed herself in that masculine role. Moreover, her male depictions show how she navigated the gender-based legitimacy crisis, as a female in a typically male role. By placing these masculine-appearing statues at the entrance of her temple, Hatshepsut sought to associate herself with tradition, and aligned herself with gendered expectations of rulership.14 Ultimately, Through carefully thought-out depictions of herself, in increasingly masculine ways throughout her reign, she created a narrative that allowed her to justify her ascension to the throne.15
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Figure 3. Sphinx of Hatshepsut, 1479-1458 BC, Granite, The Metropolitan Museum, New York
Each of the temple’s three levels, though with chapels dedicated to different gods, all contain porticos that depict various parts of Hatshepsut’s biography, which served to narrate her legitimate position on the throne. In particular, the temple’s ground level features two porticos. The first portico highlights Hatshepsut’s relationship with the Theban god Amun, thought to be the supreme deity of ancient Egypt, depicting her performing expected pharaonic duties to maintain Ma’at.16 17 This self-proclaimed relationship with Amun was a strategic move in the branding of her image, as the possession of the title of pharaoh demanded she adhere to the pharaonic tradition of claiming divine connection. The second portico depicted Hatshepsut hunting, which was a common leisure activity that royalty took part in.18 Hunting was significant in ancient Egypt, because it was seen as necessary to master the forces of nature, ultimately maintaining ma’at. However, hunting was typically an activity reserved only for men.19 The consistent male imagery found within her temple creates a “brand identity.” Thus, it is likely that by depicting herself taking part in a typically male-exclusive royal activity, Hatshepsut wished to position herself as a royal member of society that followed pharaonic tradition, communicating to the people of Egypt that despite her gender, she was a proper ruler.
The Punt Portico, located on the temple’s second or middle level, was erected to materialize Hatshepsut’s claim to the throne, furthering her ideological message by depicting her military expedition to Punt. Spanning three walls, or about forty meters, the Portico depicts a trading expedition to the land of Punt, led by Hatshepsut.20 Just the sheer size of this Portico sends a clear message: Hatshepsut wished to make this military expedition known. While many previous Egyptian rulers led military campaigns to Punt, scholar Thomas Van Damme notes that Hatshepsut’s expedition was the first to go back in about 400 years.21 While there are about 12 different scenes, the Punt portico essentially depicts a trading expedition to the land of Punt and the acquiring of exotic luxury goods, such as ivory, resin, gold, incense, as well as baboons, monkeys, hounds, and even children.22 23 This portico serves as a clear demonstration of her diplomatic and administrative capacity, as well as resource acquisition abilities, which were essential to pharaonic legitimacy. Notably, the inscriptions on this portico say that “Heaven and all foreign lands created by the god (Amun) are completely subservient to her.” 24 This inscription reveals that Hatshepsut used a connection to the god Amun, who she claims to be her father in the Nativity portico, in order to further support her right to lead an expedition to Punt. This strategic choice strengthens her ideological message as a female pharaoh, allowing her to further brand her kingship as righteous and divinely connected. Ultimately, by materializing this military expedition in stone, Hatshepsut sought to create permanent evidence of her effectiveness as a powerful ruler and military commander, which uniquely complemented her divine legitimacy claims.
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Figure 4. Illustration of Hatshepsut’s Punt portico.
Hatshepsut seemingly decided to take control of the narrative of her ascension to the throne by following the well-established practice of claiming her birth as divine, as seen in the Nativity Portico found on the middle level. In pharaonic ideology, the king acted as a link between the gods and man, and upholding maat, or cosmic order, was an essential role of the king.25 Making this connection to the gods by claiming divine birth was common practice for pharaohs in ancient Egypt, allowing them to justify their kingship. The Nativity Portico depicts Hatshepsut’s divine conception and birth, showing her mother and father as “chosen vessels of the divine seed and the human incarnation of Amun.”26 Amun-Re disguises himself as Thutmose I, the King and father of Hatshepsut, in order to visit Ahmose, Hatshepsut’s mother.27 Hatshepsut is conceived during this visit, and then Ahmose gives birth, with various gods proclaiming Hatshepsut as king of Egypt.28,29 This Nativity Portico is arguably one of the most important, since it further indicates Hatshepsut’s desire to follow traditional norms while simultaneously breaking them. This reflects kingship ideology, especially in the New Kingdom, where pharaohs promoted themselves as living gods.30 Thus, the analysis of his portico reveals that in order to successfully fix the legitimacy crisis she was facing, Hatshepsut felt the need to position herself as divine, essentially branding herself as having the right to be on the throne.
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Figure 5. Hatshepsut’s birth scene, from Édouard Naville, The Temple of Deir el Bahari (London, 1896), vol. 2, pl.
50. [Image courtesy of the University Library Heidelberg].
The third level of the mortuary temple, featuring an inner court, the Coronation Portico, the barque sanctuary for Amun, and the royal mortuary complex, serves as the final piece of the narrative conveyed by the temple31. The temple’s central shrine, dedicated to the god Amun-Re, played an important role in the Beautiful Festival of the Valley, communicating her political message through rituals. This shrine, with its incredible length and height, had a large window that illuminated the room when the sun hit.32 This design was likely chosen to highlight the space’s already divine presence. Every year, the barque of Amun-Re was transported by the king, the priests, and the people of Egypt from the Karnak temple across the Nile towards the Mortuary temple at Deir-el-Bahari, to Amun-Re’s shrine on the third level.33 Since religion was an important part of Egyptian culture and pharaonic ideology, this festival, dedicated to the creator god, was essential to the people of Egypt. By including her temple in this existing festival, Hatshepsut essentially inserted herself into tradition. Occurring annually, the festival allowed Egyptians to witness Hatshepsut’s performance as pharaoh34 and see her statues and porticos up close, which functioned as audience engagement. Thus, Hatshepsut further aligned her image with that of Amun-Re’s by creating a “stage” for herself, through the active inclusion of her temple in this festival, which allowed her to solidify her claim to the throne.
4 Catherine H. Roehrig, Dreyfus and Keller, “Hatshepsut: From Queen to Pharaoh” (The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York), 3
5 Kelly-Anne Diamond, “Hatshepsut: Transcending Gender in Ancient Egypt” in Gender & History, Vol. 32, 2020
6 Rachel Ripley, “Hatshepsut: Identity, Ideology, and Practice.” Behind the Roddick Gates, 7.
7 Rachel Ripley, “Hatshepsut: Identity, Ideology, and Practice” in Behind The Roddick Gates Volume IV, (Redpath Museum Research Journal, 2016), 15.
8 Ripley, 16.
9 Ann Macy Roth, “Hatshepsut’s Mortuary Temple at Deir el-Bahari: Architecture as Political Statement” in
Hatshepsut From Queen to Pharaoh, 147.
10 Ripley, “Hatshepsut Identity, Ideology, and Practice”, 16.
11 Dieter Arnold, “The Temple of Hatshepsut At Deir El-Bahari”, in Hatshepsut: From Queen to Pharaoh, 135-139.
12 Dieter Arnold, “The Temple of Hatshepsut at Deir El-Bahari” in Hatshepsut From Queen to Pharaoh, 136.
13 Arnold, “The Temple of Hatshepsut”, 136.
14 Kelly-Anne Diamond, “Hatshepsut: Transcending Gender in Ancient Egypt” in Gender & History, Vol. 32, 2020
15 Ripley, “Hatshepsut, Identity and Ideology”, 14.
16 Vincent A. Tobin, “Mytho-Theology in Ancient Egypt” in Journal of the American Research Center in Egypt, (American Research Center in Egypt, 1988), 15.
17 Ripley, “Hatshepsut Identity, Ideology, and Practice”, 16.
18 Ripley, 16.
19 Ripley, 16.
20 Thomas Van Damme, “Discourse on the Historical and Contemporary Importance of Queen Hatshepsut’s Punt
Expedition”, Ghent University (2011-2012), 10.
21 Damme, 7.
22 Damme, 13.
23 Mark-Jan Nederhof, “Punt Expedition of Queen Hatshepsut”, 1.
24 Nederhof, 1.
25 Roehrig, Dreyfus and Keller, “Hatshepsut: From Queen to Pharaoh”, 3 and 4.
26 Ripley, “Hatshepsut Identity, Ideology, and Practice”, 17.
27 Roth, “Hatshepsut Architecture as a Political Statement”, 149.
28 Ripley, 17.
29 Roth, “Hatshepsut Architecture as a Political Statement”, 149.
30 Morris, “Propaganda and Performance”, 41
31 Ripley, 17.
32 Arnold, “The Temple of Hatshepsut”, 137.
33 Roth, “Hatshepsut Architecture as a Political Statement”, 147.
34 Ripley, 14.
THE CASE OF ASHOKA
King Ashoka of the Mauryan Empire, facing the aftermath of the violent Kalinga war during his reign, faced a reputation crisis rather than a legitimacy one like Hatshepsut’s. After the death of his father, Bindusara, Ashoka inherited the Magadha empire in 273 BC, but only came to the throne four years later.35 Ashoka had every right to the throne, and was a legitimate male heir, so his crisis was not like Hatshepsut’s. Under the Mauryans, multiple small kingdoms were brought together, so Ashoka inherited a vast empire,36 its wealth attributed to its thriving land and sea trade.37 Kalinga, a powerful kingdom on the eastern coast, had access to the Bay of Bengal trading network that would allow the Mauryan empire to grow.38 This area however, was not under King Ashoka’s control, so in 260 BC King Ashoka invaded the Kalinga territory, leading to the Kalinga War,39 which many scholars regard as one of the most important political events during his reign.40 Though this war was a key event in the history of the Mauryan empire, resulting in victory, it was extremely cruel and caused a lot of destruction, with “the mass deportation of 150,000 people” and the “killing of 100,000.”41 This led to Ashoka being known as a “cruel and violent ruler” in the beginning of his reign. 42 Facing this negative public image, Ashoka faced a reputation crisis, as well as a moral one in his remorse for the brutality carried out, which led to his conversion to Buddhism.43 This conversion to Buddhism reflects his likely desire to change his image from a violent tyrant, to a righteous, peaceful ruler.
Figure 6. Simeon Netchev, “Map of the Mauryan Empire, c. 321-185 BCE.” World History Encyclopedia, 2022.
While both Pharaoh Hatshepsut and King Ashoka invested in the construction of monuments in response to their crises using stone, signifying the permanence of their message and religious legitimation, they went about the dissemination of their ideological message in different ways. Compared to Hatshepsut’s crisis, which revolved around her legitimacy to the throne as a female pharaoh, King Ashoka needed to change his image. Thus, one important question arises: why did he build pillars spread out over the kingdom, instead of one large? The pillars, of which there are over 40 across his empire, in places like India, Nepal, Pakistan, and Afghanistan44 and edicts were placed at “important trade, religious, and residential sites.”45 Their location was strategically chosen, so that more people could see Ashoka’s message. Thus, building many pillars, in various parts of his vast empire allowed for a large-scale distribution of his message of dhamma, which has previously been translated as morality, piety, or righteousness46 and ultimately, his new image as a righteous king, to as many people as possible. In contrast, Hatshepsut’s legitimacy crisis required a concentrated investment, which is her massive Mortuary Temple, since it would concentrate all aspects of her branding campaign in one place.
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Figure 7. Map of the Distribution of Ashokan Edicts, Including Pillar and Rock Edicts, Across South Asia, Sugandhi, 2013
Ashoka’s Pillars, such as the lion capital at Sarnath, have easily discernible features, like their height, material, or symbolic use of animals which allowed for their easy recognition. One of the most famous Ashokan pillars is the one located at Sarnath, which is the place of Buddha’s first sermon. The location alone holds significance, because it essentially symbolizes the birth of Buddhism, thus allowing Ashoka’s image to be aligned with Buddhist ideals. Originally, the pillar itself stood thirty-seven feet above the ground,47 making it stand out and surprising its viewers with its grandeur. Made out of sandstone, as are other Ashokan pillars, this one in particular features a lustrous finish in the column’s capital. The capital, which is what stands at the top of the pillar, originally had four symbolic parts, but only three remain. The first part, at the bottom, is a bell-like structure with what appears to be petals, which is sometimes interpreted as a lotus 48, which is one of the most widely recognized Buddhist symbols, typically associated with purity. Next, there is a circular abacus with four animals carved on, each believed to represent the four cardinal points: a bull for the West, an elephant for the East, a lion for the North, and a horse for the South, with each of these animals being symbolic in Buddhism.49 Above the abacus, there are four lions sitting back-to-back, with the lion usually associated with bravery and royalty, as well as Buddha’s personality.50 Crowning the pillar, though now vanished, was a large ‘Wheel-of-Law’ (dhar-macakra) or dharma wheel51, which worked to explicitly state Ashoka’s dissemination of dharma. These Buddhist symbols were strategically used to solve Ashoka’s reputation crisis, since they essentially associated Ashoka with Buddhism and dhamma. . This approach resembles Hatshepsut’s because both rulers utilized religious iconography, but Hatshepsut, unlike King Ashoka, portrayed herself with the religious symbols, either in her porticos or in statues. Moreover, since these Buddhist symbols were utilized in various pillars, such as in the lion capital at Sarnath, they allowed for brand recognition, since, using the image function of branding according to Moore and Reid, they created an easily recognizable image of King Ashoka as a peaceful, Buddhist king, and could arguably be titled a ‘proto-brand’
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Figure 8. Lion Capital, Ashokan Pillar at Sarnath, c. 250 B.C.E., polished sandstone, 210 x 283 cm (Archaeological Museum Sarnath, India; photo: पाटलिपुत्र, CC BY-SA 4.0)
Unlike Hatshepsut’s visual or spatial branding, Ashoka used explicit textual messaging, found in inscriptions, or Edicts spread throughout the empire. Scholars maintain that there are three main edict groups: Major Rock Edicts, of which there are fourteen, Minor Rock Edicts, of which there are three, and Pillar Edicts, which are seven.52 Each of these edicts, or inscriptions, which share important historical events during Ashoka’s reign, laws, and Buddhist principles, such as Dhamma. These edicts were placed at “important trade, religious, and residential sites.”53 Their location was strategically chosen, so that more people could see Ashoka’s message. Moreover, the edicts were written in multiple languages, such as Prakrit, Greek and Aramaic, so the information could be read and understood by nearly everyone in the empire.54 In his Major Rock Edict 13, King Ashoka tells of the casualties of the Kalinga War, and expresses his remorse.
The translation of Major Rock Edit 13, provided by Ven S. Dhammika, states the following:
Beloved−of−the−Gods, King Piyadasi (King Ashoka), conquered the Kalingas eight years after his coronation. One hundred and fifty thousand were deported, one hundred thousand were killed and many more died (from other causes). After the Kalingas had been conquered, Beloved−of−the−Gods came to feel a strong inclination towards the Dhamma, a love for the Dhamma and for instruction in
Dhamma. Now Beloved−of−the−Gods feels deep remorse for having conquered the Kalingas.
Truly, Beloved−of−the−Gods desires non−injury, restraint and impartiality to all beings, even where wrong has been done.
Now it is conquest by Dhamma that Beloved−of−the−Gods considers to be the best conquest.
This edict shows strategic transparency, as Ashoka explicitly admits to his past violence, even giving the exact number of casualties. Moreover, his honesty and stated moral transformation work to rebrand his image, and anyone reading would likely see a moral king who seeks to share dhamma. Overall, this edict a clear example of the information function of branding, because Ashoka’s history and transformed values are directly stated.
Another edict in particular, pillar edict seven, written in the twenty-seventh year of Ashoka’s reign, is crucial to understanding why the pillars were built.
The translation of pillar edict seven, provided by Ven S. Dhammika, states the following:
Beloved−of−the−Gods, King Piyadasi (King Ashoka) … said: "It occurs to me that I shall have proclamations on Dhamma announced and instruction on
Dhamma given. When people hear these, they will follow them, elevate
themselves and grow considerably through the promotion of the Dhamma." It is for this purpose that proclamations on Dhamma have been announced and various instructions on Dhamma have been given… "Having this object in view, I have
set up Dhamma pillars, appointed Dhamma Mahamatras (officers), and
announced Dhamma proclamations." Beloved−of−the−Gods, King Piyadasi, says:
Along roads I have had banyan trees planted so that they can give shade to
animals and men, and I have had mango groves planted ... I have had wells dug, rest−houses built, and in various places, I have had watering−places made for the use of animals and men. But these are but minor achievements. Such things to
make the people happy have been done by former kings. I have done these things for this purpose, that the people might practice the Dhamma.
This pillar edict clearly states Ashoka’s reasons for the construction of his pillars, as well as his wish to spread the practice of Dhamma. Explicitly stating his motivations allowed for a more direct, honest communication with his subjects. Also, mentioning his good deeds demonstrates benevolence, or selfless goodwill towards others, which furthers his re-branded image of a moral ruler. Ashoka’s textual messaging approach contrasts Hatshepsut’s, because while Ashoka explicitly states his motivations, Hatshepsut utilizes iconography to implicitly state her ideology.
35 Md. Ashikuzzaman Khan Kiron, “Emperor Ashoka, the Chief Patron of Buddhism: A Review”, University of Dhaka, Bangladesh, 76.
36 Md. Kiron, 76.
37 Dehejia, Rajeev H., and Vivek H. Dehejia. “Religion and Economic Activity in India”, 146.
38 Michael C. Skinner "Kalinga: reconstructing a regional history from the sixth century BCE to the first century BCE." (PhD diss., 2005), 59.
39 Skinner, “Kalinga: Reconstructing a Regional History”, 59.
40 Md. Kiron, 77.
41 Jason Neelis, “Historical Contexts for the Emergence and Transmission of Buddhism Within South Asia”, 87
42 Jason Neelis, “Historical Contexts for the Emergence and Transmission of Buddhism in South Asia” In Early Buddhist Transmission and Trade Networks: Mobility and Exchange within and beyond the Northwestern Borderlands of South Asia, 82.
43 Romila Thapar “Aśoka and Buddhism” in Past & Present, 44.
44 Le Huu Phuoc, “Buddhist Architecture”, 31.
45 Prof. Mahure, 344.
46 Romila Thapar, “Asoka and Buddhism”, in Past & Present, 1960, 45.
47 John Irwin, “’Asokan’ Pillars: A Reassessment of the Evidence” in The Burlington Magazine, 706.
48 Irwin, 706.
49 Abhay Kumar Singh, “Ashoka’s Perception of Nature and Man: A Study in Art and Attitude”, in Proceedings of the Indian History Congress, (2004), 137.
50 Gokhale, 117.
51 Irwin, 706.
52 Prof. Yuoraj Shamrao Mahure, “The Role of Ashoka's Edicts in Spreading Dhamma and Statecraft” in
International Advance Journal of Engineering, Science and Management (IAJESM), (2022), 342.
53 Prof. Mahure, 344.
54 Prof. Mahure, 342.
CONCLUSION
By analyzing Hatshepsut’s Mortuary Temple and Ashoka’s pillar network through branding and ideology frameworks, this study reveals that legitimacy crises drive strategic monument investments, but crises type determines monument strategy. Across both cases, it is evident that crisis drives monument investment. However, crisis type shapes monument strategy. For example, Hatshepsut, facing a legitimacy crisis, chose a concentrated branding approach, in order align herself with pharaonic tradition. On the other hand, Ashoka, facing a reputation crisis, chose a distributed approach, in order to disseminate dhamma and promote his morality throughout his empire. In accordance with scholars Moore and Reid, materialization in stone, as is seen with Hatshepsut and Ashoka’s monuments, make ideology controllable and permanent, which allows it to be perceived by generations beyond the ones at the time of construction. Also, communication mediums vary, with Hatshepsut utilizing mostly visual and implicit messaging through iconography, and Ashoka utilizing explicit messaging through his edicts. Moreover, religious legitimation seems to be a universal method for rulers, since religion has historically held great importance within cultures. However, cultural frameworks differ: divine kingship held significant value in Egyptian culture, and Hatshepsut strategically aligned herself with the gods, as many previous pharaohs did. In contrast, Buddhism was not the main religion in India at the time, and though Ashoka did make his conversion clear to his subjects, he worked to disseminate dhamma, instead of just Buddhism. Ultimately, this research reveals that strategic communication of power and ideology is a universal challenge, but successful strategies must adapt to specific crisis types, cultural values, or political contexts. Moreover, the sophistication of the “branding campaigns” studied supports the theory that branding has ancient roots. This research’s interdisciplinary approach demonstrates that applying modern frameworks, such as business or branding, can illuminate ancient political behavior that just art historical or archeological analysis might miss. Ultimately, this research reveals that brand management, accomplished through strategic messaging and the materialization of ideology has been key to political legitimacy since ancient times. This suggests that modern marketing has evolved as a type of human communication of authority. This study faces limitations such as incomplete monuments, inability to know audience reception due to lack of evidence, retrospective application of modern concepts, and limited scope to just two cultures. However, further investigation across additional rulers and civilizations could strengthen the already evident pattern found in this comparison. Future research could apply these frameworks to additional cases, such as Wu Zetian, China’s only female emperor, whose Buddhist temple patronage, mirroring Hatshepsut’s temple construction, could reveal legitimacy strategies applied by female rulers across cultures. Also, perhaps Augustus Ceasar could be studied as well, since his moral transformation mirrors Ashoka’s moral rebranding, which could reveal universal patterns for reputation management through monuments.
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Yuto Goto
McLennan Community College
Sponges play essential roles in Caribbean reefs through filtration, nutrient cycling, and habitat formation. Their abundance has increased where coral cover has declined. Rope sponges such as Aplysina cauliformis and Aplysina fulva are common in this region. Emerging diseases have been reported, including Aplysina Red Band Syndrome (ARBS) in Aplysina spp. and Sponge White Patch Disease (SWPD) in Amphimedon compressa. A paucity of data on rope sponge populations and disease status in Roatán limits the ability to detect future outbreaks. This study was conducted to assess rope sponge diversity and disease prevalence in Roatán, Honduras.
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Sasha Joy
Emporia State University
Federico García Lorca’s play, La Casa de Bernarda Alba/The House of Bernarda Alba, can be considered a strong economic and political critique of the rise of the Spanish dictator Francisco Franco and the fascist movement in 1930s Spain. García Lorca’s play was not staged in Spain until 1950 after the eventual fascist victory; after the author’s death in 1936, his work was burned and banned (Columbia 250). Despite the fact that the Axis powers ultimately lost the Second World War, other Western powers, including the United States, continued to support Franco after World War II, ignoring his oppressive regime and allowing fascism to reign in Spain until the 1970s (Graham 166).
Aaliyah Linton
Lone Star College–Kingwood
Throughout history, women who challenged the limits of socially accepted behavior have often been reinterpreted according to the prevailing ideological framework of the era. This research explores how the transition from witchcraft accusations in the seventeenth century to hysteria diagnoses in the nineteenth century reflected evolving patriarchal methods of controlling women, with an aim to identify the shifting but continuous roles of religious and medical authorities in shaping that control.