at the center of the plateau and not at a relatively low corner on the edge of the plateau. By so doing Khufu would have securely closed the door on the possibility of any future king trumping his own architectural marvel. In addition, by selecting the central, high ground of the plateau Khufu would also have benefited from the natural causeway that ran from the Nile up to the central high ground and would have saved himself the not inconsiderable headache and expense of having to build a massive artificial causeway deep into the Nile Valley. But concerns of prestige, of finance, and of potentially being upstaged seem not to have influenced Khufu’s choice in the slightest, as clearly can be seen by his decision to reject the prestigious, central high ground with its advantageous natural causeway and, instead, to opt for the lower, northeast corner of the plateau, right on the cliff face, for the construction of his Great Pyramid.
And were these colossal structures built to reflect the greatness of the king (i.e., to satisfy his ego), then there is little doubt also that Menkaure, the builder of the smallest of the three main pyramids at Giza, would more likely have chosen a virgin site for his pyramid rather than have its relatively diminutive stature highlighted by its two illustrious predecessors standing high and mighty on the Giza plateau. By building away from Giza at a virgin site, Menkaure could easily have avoided such unflattering comparisons being made. But no, Menkaure was quite content to build at Giza, in the shadow of the two giant pyramids already there. So, as far as ego is concerned, the very placement of these monuments squarely contradicts such a motivation.
Other commentators have suggested that the pyramid evolved from the mastaba in order to provide greater security from robbers in a similar way that the mud-brick mastaba developed from simple pit-andmound graves that would quickly erode away, revealing the tomb that would then be ransacked by people and animals. But given that the pyramids were built by people who knew how to cut, move, and stack huge blocks of stone from a quarry to build a pyramid, it would not have been lost on the king or his advisors that the very same people could do precisely the reverse to dismantle and gain access to his pyramid. Certainly the pyramids—were these truly tombs of kings—would have had guards and a priestly cult protecting them from being plundered, but often these were the very people the king had to fear the most. In this regard, a giant stone pyramid offered no more protection than the much smaller mastaba or rock-cut tomb.
Given the importance in the ancient Egyptian religion of preserving the king’s mortal remains from desecrators and tomb robbers, building a tomb the size of a giant pyramid would have served only to act as a beacon, advertising for miles around the precise whereabouts of the tomb to those morally challenged individuals who would do it and the king harm. This situation seems all the more puzzling given that Khufu clearly understood the first principle of ensuring a secure and permanent burial: you create an underground tomb and you do not mark its location. We know that Khufu understood this basic principle because he buried his own mother, Hetepheres I, in such an unmarked tomb, one hundred feet underground at Giza. This tomb was only discovered by a freak accident in 1925, having been undisturbed and undiscovered for almost 4,500 years.
This raises the obvious question: If Khufu understood the best means to secure a safe and permanent burial (for his mother) with the use of a completely invisible, unmarked, underground shaft tomb, why then would he go against his own better judgment and build for himself the most highly visible tomb imaginable? As a secure and inconspicuous tomb, Khufu’s Great Pyramid would have completely failed. For Khufu to have believed that such a massive structure could function as a secure and permanent