Bast (Bastet)

The lamps of Bubastis burned through the night while the cats watched from the rooftops. Below them, in a temple ringed by canals and shaded by tall trees, priests shook bronze rattles and the air smelled of myrrh and spilled wine. This was the goddess’s city, and once a year it filled past bursting with worshippers who had come down the Nile to drink, dance, and shout her name. More wine was poured in those few days than in all the rest of the year. The figure they sang to had the body of a dancer and the head of a cat, and she was at once the gentlest and the most dangerous thing in the Egyptian sky.

She began as a lion. In the earliest images, carved on stone vessels of the Second Dynasty more than four thousand years ago, Bast wears the maneless head of a lioness, and there is nothing soft about her. She was a daughter of Ra, the sun, and she carried his heat. Only later, after Egyptians had taken the cat into their homes to guard the granaries against snakes and mice, did her face change. The lioness eased into the house cat, and the goddess eased with her, though the old ferocity never fully left. Her name is usually read as something close to “she of the ointment jar,” which made her a goddess of perfume as well, keeper of the sweet oils stored in alabaster. A protector who smelled of myrrh.

As one of the Eyes of Ra, she was a piece of the sun god given its own will and sent out to do what he could not. In that role she shared a strange kinship with Sekhmet, Hathor, and Wadjet, all of them daughters and weapons of the same father. But where Sekhmet stayed a lioness and stayed furious, Bast came home. Her work was domestic in the deepest sense. She sat at the threshold of ordinary houses, turning away the night fevers that killed infants, watching over women in childbirth, keeping scorpions and serpents out of the dark corners where children slept. A mother laying her baby down would whisper to her, trusting that somewhere a cat-eyed guardian was awake.

Artists gave her a recognizable set of tools. She stands slim and upright, cat-headed, a small ritual rattle called a sistrum raised in one hand, its loose metal disks ready to jangle. In the other she holds an aegis, a broad collar-shaped charm crowned with a lioness head, a reminder of what she used to be and could become again. Sometimes a basket hangs from her arm. Sometimes a litter of kittens sits at her feet, a quiet advertisement of the fertility she governed. The bronze statues of her show the same poised alertness any cat owner would recognize, the stillness that sits one twitch away from motion.

Her ferocity had a purpose, and the myth makes it plain. Each night the sun god travelled through the underworld in his barque, and each night Apep, the vast serpent of chaos, rose to swallow him and end the world. Bast met the serpent in the dark. In cat form she fought and killed Apep, cutting him down with a knife so the sun could climb back into the morning. Egyptians understood the small predator on their threshold and the cosmic guardian at the edge of the world to be the same creature doing the same job at different scales. The cat that broke a snake’s back in the courtyard was a household echo of the goddess who broke the back of chaos itself.

This is why Egypt loved cats the way few peoples have loved any animal. To kill one, even by accident, could cost a person their life. When a household cat died, the family shaved their eyebrows in mourning. The dead animals were embalmed with the same care given to people and carried to Bubastis, where archaeologists later uncovered the remains of hundreds of thousands of mummified cats packed into the ground around her temple. The festival the Greek traveller Herodotus described drew enormous crowds down the river by boat, the women shaking cymbals and calling out to the towns they passed, the men piping, everyone bound for the city to honor her with music and noise and far too much drink. It was less a solemn rite than a great roaring party, and that was the point.

Her gifts followed from all of this. She gave protection above everything, against disease, against malevolent spirits, against the snakes and vermin that threatened food and family. She presided over fertility and the safe arrival of children, and as the perfumed goddess she touched the pleasures of the body, music, scent, and dance. Her link to the sun lent her a share of its life-giving warmth, and a later link to the moon tied her to the soft light under which cats do their hunting.

But the same nature that made her a guardian made her hard to hold. The lioness was never gone, only sleeping, and an Eye of Ra that woke wrathful could bring plague instead of protection. Her goodwill had to be courted and kept warm. The wine, the music, the rattling sistrum, the great drunken festival itself were tools for soothing her, for keeping the gentle cat ascendant over the furious lion. A goddess who guarded the home could also, if neglected or angered, become the very danger she was meant to keep out. The Egyptians did not take that risk lightly. They kept her fed, kept her honored, and kept the lamps of Bubastis burning.

Frequently Asked Questions

Who is Bast (Bastet)?

Bast, also called Bastet, is the ancient Egyptian goddess of the home, fertility, women, and cats, and a daughter of the sun god Ra. She was first depicted as a fierce lioness and later as a woman with the head of a domestic cat. Her chief cult center was the Nile Delta city of Bubastis.

What was Bastet the goddess of?

Bastet was the protector of the household, presiding over fertility, childbirth, women, and the safety of the family against disease and evil spirits. Because her name is read as “she of the ointment jar,” she was also a goddess of perfume and sweet oils, as well as of music and dance.

Why were cats sacred to Bastet?

Cats were sacred because Bastet took the form of a cat and because real cats protected Egyptian homes and granaries by killing snakes and vermin, mirroring her own role as guardian. Killing a cat, even accidentally, could be punished by death, and grieving families shaved their eyebrows in mourning. Hundreds of thousands of mummified cats were buried around her temple at Bubastis.

How is Bastet related to Sekhmet?

Bastet and Sekhmet are closely linked feline goddesses, both daughters of Ra and both counted among the “Eyes of Ra.” Sekhmet represents the untamed, warlike lioness, while Bastet represents the calmer, protective aspect of the same divine nature, often described as her gentler counterpart or sister.

What happened at the festival of Bastet at Bubastis?

The festival at Bubastis was one of the largest celebrations in ancient Egypt, drawing huge crowds who travelled down the Nile by boat to honor Bastet. According to Herodotus, worshippers played cymbals and pipes, sang, and drank enormous quantities of wine. The revelry served partly to soothe the goddess and keep her gentle aspect dominant over her dangerous, lioness side.

Related Entries

Sekhmet, Hathor, Wadjet, Mafdet, Tefnut, Amun-Re, Apep/Apophis, Bes, Isis, Anubis, Horus, Ammit