Sea Laws
Maritime mercantile endeavors cannot flourish without a code of law. Although evidence for nautical laws in the Late Bronze Age is limited, a code of maritime conduct apparently existed, at least along the Syro-Canaanite coast and Cyprus.
Shipwreck
One Ugaritic text implies a law dealing with shipwrecks. Here the king of Tyre informs the king of Ugarit that while en route to Egypt, one of the latter’s ships had been partially wrecked in a storm. Its cargo was seized by an enigmatic figure termed the rb-tmtt–literally, “lord of killing.”1 The Tyrian assures his peer that all is in hand. He had taken the cargo back from the rb-tmtt, and the ship is now anchored at Tyre.2
The conduct of the king of Tyre is best understood in light of a treaty from the seventh century B.C. between the Assyrian king Esarhaddon and Baal I, a later ruler of Tyre.3 One condition of the treaty states: “If a ship of Baal or of the people of Tyre is shipwrecked off (the coast of) the land of the Philistines or anywhere on the borders of Assyrian territory, everything that is on the ship belongs to Esarhaddon, king of Assyria, but one must not do any harm to any person on board ship, they should li[st] their names and inform the king of Assyria.”74
The Bronze Age Tyrian king appears to have been following a similar ruling. The later treaty must have drawn the clause from an accepted maritime law that was already ancient when the treaty was written.
Willful Shipwreck
A fascinating text from Ugarit discusses a court case that was judged by Pudehepa, the mother dowager of the Hittite king, Tudkhaliya IV.5 The case was between an Ugaritian and a person named Shukku. From the terminology of the text, it is clear that the ship and the cargo belonged to the man of Ugarit. Thus, Shukku was charged with willfully wrecking the ship after the harbor master swore to this.
Two interpretations have been given for this case. F. C. Fensham likens it to a law in the Code of Hammurabi that deals with the responsibility of the ship’s captain to the merchant who hires the ship.6 The law requires the captain to compensate the merchant for the ship and the cargo if the ship is wrecked because of negligence.7 This same principle appears in the earlier Law of Eshnunna, where a stipulation protects both the ship’s owner and merchants for cargoes carried by a negligent ship captain.
In relating these earlier laws to the Ugaritic case, Fensham notes that it can only be understood in the light of Mesopotamian law. The “man of Ugarit” was probably the owner of the ship and perhaps also of its cargo. Shukku was apparently the ship’s captain. This is interesting because the name is Hittite, and Hittites are not generally thought to have engaged in seafaring. This may also explain why the case was judged before the Hittite king instead of the Ugaritic ruler. Perhaps Shukku was one of the merchants of Ura mentioned in other Ugaritic texts.8
Lacking maritime laws of their own, the Hittites apparently depended on legal practices that were used throughout the Near East. Fensham emphasizes that the decision was seemingly made on the basis of a legal principle from the Mesopotamian Middle Bronze Age generally accepted in Late Bronze Age Ugarit. This example of basing a maritime code of laws on the earlier legal principles of other nations is hardly unique. It is comparable to the Rhodian Sea Law, which later served as the foundation for maritime laws over considerable space and time.9
Another explanation for this text is offered by J. R. Ziskind, who argues that the case was judged on the principles pertaining to sea or bottomry loans. Known as faenus nauticum or traiectito pecunia in Latin, this law was unique for two reasons: the creditor assumed liability in the case of a loss of ship or cargo, and the creditor’s right to demand repayment was linked to the safe arrival of the merchantman with its cargo.10 If the security was lost at sea and there was no evidence of fraud on the part of the borrower, then the payment to the lender, both principal and interest, was canceled. Ziskind writes:
In this Akkadian text, the defendant Shukku (citizenship unstated), claimed that the Ugaritian plaintiff’s ship was destroyed accidentally when it struck a wharf. The plaintiff claimed that Shukku intentionally wrecked the ship. The captain of the ship was ordered to swear an oath, and Shukku had to make good the worth of the ship and its cargo. Shukku had either borrowed money from the king of Ugarit or was in the employ of someone who did in order to undertake a maritime enterprise in Asia Minor, and when it became apparent to Shukku that the obligation would not be met, he tried to sink the ship and falsely claim that an accident took place. In this way, Shukku or his employer would be free of the obligation to repay the loan, and they would also avoid possible enslavement for defaulting on a debt. Evidently, the captain of the ship caught Shukku in the act.11
Ziskind suggests that fluctuating prices may have been a cause for Shukku’s actions. If prices had dropped on the return of the ship, the borrower would not have been able to repay his loan. He also interprets KTU 4.338 in light of bottomry loans.12 Ziskind translates lbš. anyt as “the cargo of ships” and assumes that the text is a memorandum of a sea loan given to the king of Byblos with ships and cargo hypothecated to the lender, the king of Ugarit. Alternatively, D. Pardee interprets the same text as describing a loan of ships to Ugarit by the king of Byblos.13
Law of Reprisal
The existence of a “law of reprisal” is evident from Wenamun’s reception on being shipwrecked in Alashia. From his words to the princess Heteb, Wenamun makes it clear that by killing him and his Byblian crew the Alashians would be acting contrary to normal conduct and would be liable, therefore, to reprisal by the king of Byblos. As Wenamun puts it: “If the sea rages and the winds waft me to the land where you are, you should not let them take charge over me to kill me seeing that I am an envoy of Amon. Now look here, as for me, I shall be searched for until whatevery day (shall come). Regarding this crew of the Prince of Byblos whom they are seeking to kill, surely its lord will find ten crews belonging to you and kill them in return.”14
The Sekel ships that Wenamun found waiting for him at Byblos were also acting under this law;15 this may have been Wenamun’s assumed “legal” basis for “liberating” the silver from the Sekels: “. . . a freighter. I found their deben of silver in it, and I seized possession of it. [I said to the ship owners: I have seized possession of] your money. It shall remain in my possession [un]til you have found [my money or the thief] who stole it. I have not ┌robbed you┐, but am (only) going to ┌confiscate┐ it.”16
The “law of reprisal” was accepted conduct in Classical times and later.17 Writes H. Ormerod:
Not less dangerous to the peace of the seas was the ancient law concerning reprisals, and here again the legal terminology differed little from that which described the pirate’s doings. In the fourth century, Demosthenes states that owing to the reprisals undertaken by the Athenian captains it was impossible for an Athenian to go anywhere without a flag of truce. Reprisals could be undertaken by the state, that is to say, a general permission granted to all and sundry to plunder the inhabitants and commerce of another state, just as the Lacedaemonians in 416 B.C., in reply to continued Athenian depredations carried out from Pylos, issued a general permission to their subjects to plunder Athenians, without yet declaring war. There are numerous examples of similar practises in Hellenistic times, which greatly embarrassed the Romans in their endeavours to secure peace and quiet in Greece.18
Theft in Harbor
Wenamun’s problems with the Sekels began in the harbor of Dor when a crewman from his ship absconded with Wenamun’s gold and silver. Following the theft, Wenamun went to Beder, the ruler of Dor, and demanded that he investigate the case: “I got up on that very morning and went to where the prince was, and I said to him: I have been robbed in your harbor. Now it is you who are the prince of this land, and it is you who are its investigator. Search for my money!”19
Beder’s response to this allegation is illuminating: “And he said to me, ‘Are you serious, or are you ┌fabricating┐? Look here, I cannot comprehend this protestation that you have made to me. If it were a thief belonging to my land who boarded your freighter and stole your money, I would repay it to you from my own storehouse until / your thief, whatever his name, has been found. Actually, as for the thief who has robbed you, he belongs to you and he belongs to your freighter. Spend a few days here visiting me that I may search for him,’”20
As Beder’s reply indicates, custom required that if the theft had been perpetrated by one of a visiting ship’s crew members, then the case fell under the jurisdiction of the ship’s captain, not the port authorities.21 Beder was gracious in offering to look for the culprit, even though this was not his responsibility.
Indeed, it is curious that Wenamun had not asked for intervention from Mengebet, the Syrian captain of the ship on which he was traveling.22 Perhaps he did so, but to no avail. The Rhodian Sea Law that came much later contains the following stipulation that may clarify the situation: “If a passenger comes on board and has gold or something else, let him deposit it with the captain. If he does not deposit it and says ‘I have lost gold or silver,’ no effect is to be given to what he says. But the captain and the sailors, all those on board together are to take an oath.”23
The existence of a similar stipulation in effect along the Levantine coast in the eleventh century B.C. would explain the behavior of both Wenamun and Beder. Given Wenamun’s later actions in trying to hide his “travelling idol” from others, it is not unreasonable to assume that instead of entrusting his gold and silver to the ship’s captain during the voyage to Dor, Wenamun had guarded his valuables himself.24 If so, and if a form of the above condition did apply, then Mengebet would have borne no responsibility for a theft that took place on board his ship. In that case, Wenamun would have had no recourse but to try his luck with the local port authority, Beder, who correctly rebuffed him.
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The evidence for maritime laws in the Late Bronze Age along the Levant is admittedly limited. However, the actions of the seafarers discussed above make sense only if we assume that some form of maritime law did exist. Since no text of a written code has been found to date, it is possible that the laws were not codified but instead formed an oral doctrine of accepted conduct.