When we think of the first great lawgiver of the ancient world, one name invariably springs to mind: Hammurabi. His famous black stele, covered in Akkadian cuneiform and topped with an image of the king receiving the laws from the sun god Shamash, has become an icon of early justice. But what if I told you the story of written law begins centuries earlier, not in Babylon, but in the heart of ancient Sumer?
Meet Ur-Nammu, founder of the powerful Third Dynasty of Ur. Around 2100 BCE, more than 300 years before Hammurabi’s reign, this Sumerian king established what is now recognized as the oldest surviving law code in human history. The Code of Ur-Nammu offers a profound look into a society grappling with concepts of justice, fairness, and social order over four millennia ago, revealing a legal philosophy that was, in many ways, surprisingly modern.
A King’s Quest for Order
To understand the code, we must first understand its creator and his time. Ur-Nammu rose to power around 2112 BCE, ending a period of chaos following the collapse of the Akkadian Empire and the subsequent rule of the Gutian people. He established the Third Dynasty of Ur, a period often called the “Sumerian Renaissance.”
Ur-Nammu was a unifier and a builder. He re-established Sumerian dominance over Mesopotamia, initiated massive construction projects—most famously the Great Ziggurat of Ur—and sought to create a stable, unified state. The law code was a critical tool in this endeavor. By creating a single standard of justice for his kingdom, he aimed to “establish justice in the land, to banish wickedness and evil, so that the strong might not oppress the weak.” These words, from the prologue of the code, echo a desire for social equity that resonates to this day.
Unearthing Fragments of Justice
Unlike Hammurabi’s Code, which was discovered as a single, magnificent monument, the Code of Ur-Nammu has been pieced together by modern scholars like a historical puzzle. No grand stele bearing the full text has ever been found. Instead, our knowledge comes from fragmented cuneiform tablets, primarily later copies created by scribes in schools in the cities of Nippur, Sippar, and Ur itself.
The first fragments were discovered in the early 20th century, but they were not identified as part of a single law code until 1952 by the renowned Sumerologist Samuel Noah Kramer. While the code is attributed to Ur-Nammu, some historians now argue it may have been finalized and promulgated by his son and successor, Shulgi. Regardless of its final author, the code represents the legal thinking established during Ur-Nammu’s foundational reign.
Justice Before “An Eye for an Eye”
Perhaps the most striking feature of the Code of Ur-Nammu is its contrast with the harsh lex talionis (“an eye for an eye”) principle that would later characterize parts of Hammurabi’s Code. Instead of retribution, Ur-Nammu’s laws overwhelmingly favored monetary compensation for bodily harm.
This reveals a society that sought to restore social balance through restitution rather than reciprocal violence. Here are some specific examples translated from the surviving text:
- “If a man knocks out the eye of another man, he shall weigh out one-half mina of silver.”
- “If a man cuts off another man’s foot… he shall pay ten shekels of silver.”
- “If a man, in the course of a scuffle, smashes another’s limb with a club, he shall pay one mina of silver.”
This is a world away from Hammurabi’s “If a man put out the eye of another man, his eye shall be put out.” The only crimes in Ur-Nammu’s code that explicitly demand capital punishment are murder, robbery, deflowering another man’s virgin wife, and adultery by a woman.
The code also delves into other social and civil matters:
“If a man is accused of sorcery, he must undergo ordeal by water; if he is proven innocent, his accuser must pay three shekels of silver.”
This “trial by ordeal” involves being thrown into the river. If the accused sank, they were considered guilty; if they floated, they were innocent. It was a way of leaving the final judgment to the gods. The code also addressed divorce, inheritance, and false accusations, demonstrating a comprehensive attempt to regulate social interactions.
A Glimpse into Sumerian Society
Beyond its legal philosophy, the code is an invaluable window into the structure and values of Sumerian society under the Third Dynasty of Ur.
Social Structure
The laws make clear distinctions between social classes. The two main classes mentioned are the lú (a free person) and the arad (a male slave) or géme (a female slave). The compensation for injuring a slave was significantly less than for injuring a free person. This highlights a rigid social hierarchy, yet the code also provided slaves with certain protections, regulating their sale and addressing runaway slaves.
Economic Life
The reliance on fines paid in silver (minas and shekels) points to a sophisticated, monetized economy. The laws also heavily feature agricultural concerns, which were the bedrock of Sumerian life. There are specific provisions dealing with the flooding of another person’s field, the rental of agricultural land, and penalties for tending a field neglectfully.
Divine Authority
Like all ancient law codes, the Code of Ur-Nammu is rooted in divine authority. The prologue states that the kingship was handed down from the heavens and that the great gods An and Enlil chose Ur-Nammu to rule. The specific patron deity of justice was the sun god Utu (the Sumerian equivalent of the Babylonian Shamash). By framing the law as a divine mandate, the king legitimized his rule and presented justice not as a human invention, but as a fundamental principle of the cosmos.
The Enduring Legacy of Ur-Nammu
The Code of Ur-Nammu is more than just a historical curiosity; it is the bedrock of a long tradition of Mesopotamian law that would shape the region for over a millennium. It established the “prologue-laws-epilogue” format that was later used by other lawgivers, including Lipit-Ishtar of Isin and, most famously, Hammurabi of Babylon.
Hammurabi’s Code was not a sudden invention but an evolution, building upon the legal precedents set by his Sumerian predecessors. While his laws were often harsher, the fundamental idea—that a king is responsible for establishing a single, public standard of justice for his people—starts with Ur-Nammu.
So the next time you hear about the history of law, look past the towering stele of Hammurabi and remember the fragmented tablets from Ur. They tell the story of the true beginning of written law—a 4,000-year-old attempt to build a society where the strong could not oppress the weak, and where justice, however imperfectly, was something worth striving for.