Who Were The Pharaoh’s of Egypt During the Time of Joseph and Moses?

The Hyksos Dynasty (AI generated image)

The Hyksos play a crucial role in understanding how Joseph, a Hebrew slave, could rise to power in Egypt and how Israel later fell into bondage. The very name Hyksos comes from an Egyptian phrase meaning “rulers of foreign lands.” This is not a flattering title but a descriptive one, for they were not ethnic Egyptians. They were a Semitic people who originated largely from Canaan and the broader Levant and entered Egypt during a time of political weakness. Eventually, they took control of northern Egypt and ruled it during what historians call the Second Intermediate Period, roughly from 1650 to 1550 BC.

This period matters because Egypt was no longer ruled exclusively by native Egyptians. Foreigners sat on the throne. The Hyksos spoke Semitic languages, bore Semitic names, and worshiped deities familiar to the Levant, particularly Baal, whom they associated with the Egyptian god Seth. They introduced new military technologies to Egypt, such as the horse-drawn chariot and the composite bow, but more importantly for the Biblical narrative, they normalized foreign rule and foreign administration. In a Hyksos-ruled Egypt, it would not have been uncommon for a Semite to rise to authority.

Their capital city was Avaris, located in the eastern Nile Delta. This location is critical. It places the seat of Hyksos power in the same geographic region Scripture later calls Goshen, where Jacob and his family settled. Archaeology strongly supports this connection. Excavations at Avaris, conducted most notably by Austrian archaeologist Manfred Bietak at the site of Tell el-Dabʿa, have uncovered a city that was unmistakably Semitic in character. The houses were built in Levantine style rather than traditional Egyptian layouts. Graves contained donkeys buried alongside humans, a burial custom known from Canaan but foreign to Egypt. Pottery styles, tools, and everyday objects match those found in the southern Levant.

One particularly striking discovery at Avaris was a large, high-status residence that did not follow typical Egyptian architectural norms. Near this structure was a tomb that appears to have once held a statue of a man with Semitic features, including a mushroom-style hairstyle associated with Asiatics. Although remains of the corpse have been removed—the statue fragments suggest a non-Egyptian official of great honor. For many Biblical scholars, this does not “prove” Joseph, but it fits remarkably well with the Biblical description of a Semite elevated to second-in-command over Egypt. The Bible records that Joseph was initially buried in Egypt but later his bones were taken with the children of Israel when they left Egypt. I have no doubt that Joseph would have been given a burial status equivalent to his high-standing in Egypt.

Genesis 41 describes Joseph being given authority over food distribution, dressed in fine linen, given an Egyptian name, and riding in Pharaoh’s chariot. This level of authority would have been extraordinarily unlikely under native Egyptian dynasties, who deeply distrusted foreigners. Yet under the Hyksos, who themselves were foreigners ruling Egypt, such an appointment makes perfect sense. Joseph was Semitic, from Canaan, and a shepherd by family background—exactly the kind of person native Egyptians despised, as Genesis 46:34 plainly states. But the Hyksos were often called “shepherd kings” by later Egyptians, and the eastern Delta was ideal grazing land. What Egyptians despised, the Hyksos embraced.

The settlement of Israel in Goshen also aligns seamlessly with this historical setting. Goshen lay in the eastern Delta near Avaris, close to trade routes leading back to Canaan. It was agriculturally rich, well-watered, and ideal for livestock. Under Hyksos protection, Israel could flourish, multiply, and maintain a distinct identity without pressure to assimilate fully into Egyptian religious life. Archaeological layers at Avaris show long-term Semitic habitation, not a brief or insignificant presence, which matches the Biblical description of Israel dwelling in the land for generations.

The Biblical narrative becomes even clearer when viewed through what happened next. Around 1550 BC, native Egyptian rulers from Thebes rose up and expelled the Hyksos from Egypt, beginning the powerful 18th Dynasty. Egyptian records from this period are filled with hostility toward Asiatics and foreigners. The Egyptians deliberately erased Hyksos monuments, destroyed their cities, and rewrote history to remove the shame of foreign domination. This historical purge explains a key verse in Exodus 1:8: “Now there arose a new king over Egypt, who did not know Joseph.” This does not mean Pharaoh had never heard Joseph’s name, but that Joseph’s legacy belonged to a hated, foreign regime that the new rulers wanted to forget.

In this political climate, the Israelites became dangerous by association. They were Semitic. They lived in the Delta. They had prospered under Hyksos rule. To the new Egyptian dynasty, Israel looked like a potential problem - foreigners too numerous to trust. The solution was forced labor, population control, and enslavement. Pharoah Ahmose is the one who came in and overthrew the Hyksos dynasty.

When all of this is taken together, the Hyksos period provides a historically credible and remarkably cohesive setting for the Joseph narrative. It explains how a Hebrew could rise to power, why shepherds were tolerated in the Delta, why Israel was given land near Avaris, and why their status abruptly changed from honored guests to oppressed slaves. The archaeology of Avaris confirms that Semitic peoples lived, ruled, and prospered in exactly the right place and time. The Bible does not require Egyptian records to validate it, but when archaeology and history are allowed to speak honestly, they align with the Biblical account in a way that is both sober and compelling.

Now, knowing all of this we can make some pretty good assumptions about the identity of the Pharaoh at the time of Moses’ birth, even though this has long been debated. When the Biblical text is read carefully alongside Egyptian history, a coherent and historically grounded picture emerges. Although Scripture never names the Pharaoh, the details given allow us to narrow the field with surprising precision.

Exodus opens with Israel enslaved under a native Egyptian dynasty that feared the growing Semitic population. This places Moses’ birth after the expulsion of the Hyksos, during a period of aggressive nationalism and suspicion of foreigners. Egyptian rulers of this era were determined never again to be ruled or threatened by Asiatics. This immediately places us in the early 18th Dynasty, following roughly 1550 BC.

Exodus 1 describes forced labor, state-sponsored infanticide, and large-scale building projects. These details fit well with the policies and ambitions of Egypt’s early imperial phase. One Pharaoh stands out historically as initiating large construction projects in the Delta and consolidating Egyptian power after the Hyksos humiliation: Thutmose I.

Many scholars identify Thutmose I as the Pharaoh who issued the decree to kill the Hebrew male children, making him the most likely candidate for the ruler at the time of Moses’ birth. His reign reflects a hardened posture toward Semitic peoples and an emphasis on royal authority. Importantly, his reign is followed by a unique situation that aligns strikingly with the Biblical narrative.

Thutmose I had a daughter named Hatshepsut, and for a time, she had no surviving male heir. This matters because Exodus describes Pharaoh’s daughter acting independently, showing compassion toward a Hebrew child, and having the authority to adopt him into the royal household without recorded opposition. Hatshepsut is one of the most powerful women in Egyptian history. She later ruled as Pharaoh herself, adopting full royal titles. A woman of this stature could absolutely have taken a child into the palace and arranged his education without challenge.

Exodus says Moses was raised as the son of Pharaoh’s daughter and educated in all the wisdom of Egypt (Acts 7:22). That description fits someone raised in the court during Egypt’s imperial rise, trained in administration, language, and leadership. Moses’ later ability to confront Pharaoh, organize a nation, and legislate is consistent with elite Egyptian training.

The name Moses itself provides another compelling connection. In Hebrew, Moses is explained as meaning “drawn out” because he was drawn out of the water (Exodus 2:10). That explanation is theologically true, but it may also reflect a wordplay layered onto an Egyptian name. In Egyptian, the element -mose or -ms means “born of” or “son of,” and it appears in many royal names: Thutmose (“born of Thoth”), Ahmose (“born of Iah”), Ramesses (“born of Ra”).

It is highly likely that Moses originally bore an Egyptian name that ended simply with Mose, without a theophoric prefix naming an Egyptian god. This would make sense if Pharaoh’s daughter named him but avoided dedicating him to a deity, or if the Hebrew tradition later preserved only the name element that could be meaningfully interpreted within Israel’s theology. Thus, Mose and Moses do not just sound similar; they arise from overlapping linguistic worlds. The Hebrew explanation emphasizes deliverance, while the Egyptian form reflects royal naming.

As for whether Pharaoh’s daughter could have found Moses among the reeds, the setting again fits what we know historically. The Nile Delta was crisscrossed with waterways, marshes, and papyrus thickets. Royal women did bathe in secluded river areas, attended by servants. The word translated “bulrushes” refers to papyrus reeds common in the Delta region. The scene that Exodus provides is geographically and culturally plausible.

What is especially striking is that Moses is spared during a time of systematic infanticide, raised within the very household responsible for Israel’s suffering, and trained in the power structures he would later confront. This reflects divine providence operating within real political history.

When all the pieces are held together, a historical conclusion emerges. While Scripture does not name the Pharaoh, the early 18th Dynasty fits the Biblical context best. Thutmose I is a strong candidate for the ruler at Moses’ birth, and Hatshepsut is a plausible candidate for the compassionate daughter who rescued him. The name Moses aligns linguistically with Egyptian royal naming practices while being theologically reframed by Israel. Nothing in this reconstruction contradicts the Biblical text, and much of it illuminates it.

As with Joseph and the Hyksos, archaeology and history do not replace Scripture, but they show that the Biblical account fits comfortably within the real world it claims to describe. Moses emerges from a very specific time, place, and political climate—one in which God was already positioning deliverance inside the heart of an empire.

Let’s move forward in the story. Once again, Scripture deliberately never names the Pharaoh of the Exodus. In the ancient world, naming a king preserved his legacy. Exodus instead strips Pharaoh of identity, presenting him as a type of arrogant power opposing God. In contrast, the names of Moses, Aaron, and even midwives are preserved. The theological point is clear: God’s name endures; Pharaoh’s does not.

That said, the Bible gives us chronological anchors.

1 Kings 6:1 states that the Exodus occurred 480 years before the fourth year of Solomon’s reign, which places the Exodus around 1446 BC if taken at face value. This is the so-called early date of the Exodus and is the date most consistent with a literal reading of the Biblical timeline.

If the Exodus occurred around 1446 BC, the reigning Pharaoh at that time would most likely have been Amenhotep II, son of Thutmose III, during the height of Egypt’s imperial power.

This fits several key details.

Amenhotep II inherited a powerful, wealthy empire. His reign shows evidence of sudden population loss, military hesitation later in his rule, and a notable lack of campaigns after his early years. Unlike his father Thutmose III, who was relentlessly militaristic, Amenhotep II’s later reign is comparatively restrained — consistent with a nation recovering from internal catastrophe.

Additionally, Amenhotep II’s firstborn son did not succeed him. Instead, a younger son, Thutmose IV, came to the throne. This aligns with the Bible’s claim that Egypt suffered the death of its firstborn — including Pharaoh’s heir — during the final plague. Egyptian records would never openly memorialize such a humiliation.

There is, however, another commonly proposed candidate: Ramesses II, associated with the so-called late date of the Exodus (around 1270 BC). This view relies heavily on Exodus 1:11, which mentions the Israelites building the store city of Raamses.

But there are problems with this view.

First, place names in Scripture are often updated for later audiences, just as Genesis refers to cities by names they acquired later. Using “Raamses” does not require Ramesses II to be the reigning Pharaoh any more than Genesis’ use of “Dan” requires the city to have that name at the time of Abraham.

Second, the late-date view compresses the period of the Judges far too tightly, creating chronological strain within Scripture itself.

Third, Ramesses II left extensive inscriptions boasting of his victories. Amenhotep II, on the other hand, leaves fewer triumphal records later in life and no clear explanation for the disruption visible in his reign.

If Moses was born under Thutmose I, raised in the court possibly under Hatshepsut, fled Egypt during Thutmose III’s reign, and returned decades later, then the Pharaoh who stood before Moses and Aaron demanding, “Who is the LORD, that I should obey His voice?” would most plausibly be Amenhotep II.

Don’t you just love history? I do.

Leisa