During my last visit to the National Museum of Iraq in Baghdad, I found myself standing before one of the most captivating figures of ancient Mesopotamian art—the Winged Genie of Assyria. Alongside the majestic Lamassu, these supernatural beings seemed to whisper stories from a time when gods walked among kings, and stone reliefs carried the weight of divine protection.

Unlike the whimsical wish-granting genies of Arabian Nights, the Assyrian winged genie is a solemn and powerful figure—part man, part divine emissary. With broad shoulders, a meticulously curled beard, and wings unfurled like a bird mid-flight, the genie radiates strength and serenity. These beings were not mere decorative motifs; they were spiritual guardians, symbols of fertility, and agents of purification in the Assyrian empire.

The winged genie I saw was part of a monumental stone relief from the palace of King Sargon II, who ruled Assyria from 721 to 705 BCE. The scene depicted a royal procession, with the king flanked by attendants and winged genii holding pails and pinecones—symbols of fertility and purification. These genii were shown sprinkling holy water, sanctifying the king and the land to ensure prosperity and divine favour.

Standing before the relief, I felt transported. The intricate carvings, the rhythmic symmetry of the figures, and the solemn expressions evoked a sense of timeless reverence. I could almost hear the chants of priests, smell the incense wafting through the palace halls, and sense the awe of ancient onlookers witnessing a sacred rite.

In Assyrian art, winged genii are typically portrayed as bearded men with bird-like wings, wearing horned helmets or diadems. They often carry ritual objects—pails, cones, quadrupeds, or stylised trees—and are depicted performing sacred tasks. Their roles ranged from purifying spaces to fertilising the Tree of Life, warding off evil spirits, and blessing the king and his subjects.

These genii were not just ornamental figures; they were deeply embedded in the spiritual and political fabric of Assyria. Their presence in royal palaces signified divine protection and legitimacy. They were believed to bring good fortune, safeguard the city, and maintain cosmic order.

The relief was so impressive and detailed that I felt like I was transported back to ancient times. I could almost hear the music and chants of the procession, smell the incense and flowers, and feel the awe and reverence of the people. The winged genie was especially captivating, with its serene expression and graceful posture. It looked like it was ready to fly away at any moment, carrying its blessings to another realm.

I was so fascinated by the winged genie that I decided to do some more research on it when I got home. I learned that there are many different types of winged genies in Assyrian art, each with its own meaning and function. Some were guardians of sacred places, some were messengers of the gods, some were healers or teachers, and some were warriors or hunters. They all had one thing in common: they represented the power and wisdom of the divine.

The concept of the winged genie traces back to the Sumerian apkallu—antediluvian sages created by the god Enki before the great flood. These beings were said to possess immense wisdom and taught humanity the arts of civilisation. After the flood, some apkallu became invisible guardians, watching over humanity from the spiritual realm.

Assyrian kings, especially Ashurnasirpal II (883–859 BCE) and Sargon II, embraced this mythological lineage. Their palaces were adorned with elaborate reliefs of winged genii, reinforcing their divine mandate to rule. These genii embodied the wisdom of the apkallu and the authority of the gods.

One of the most intriguing aspects of Assyrian art is the visual overlap between kings and genii. Both figures wear similar garments, horned helmets, and jewellery, making it difficult to distinguish between mortal and divine. The horned helmet, a symbol of divinity since the Akkadian period, crowns both king and genie alike. Their beards, meticulously styled in three layers, further blur the line between human and supernatural.

Even their accessories—armlets, bracelets with rosettes, and crescent-shaped earrings—carry symbolic weight. The rosette, for instance, is often associated with the goddess Ishtar and appears frequently in her temple at Ashur. These shared adornments suggest that the king, like the genie, was seen as a conduit of divine will.

Today, the Winged Genie stands as one of the most iconic symbols of Assyrian art. Its influence echoes through the artistic traditions of ancient Greece and Rome, and its mystique continues to inspire scholars, artists, and travellers alike. The genie represents not only the grandeur of a lost empire but also the enduring human desire to connect with the divine.

If you ever find yourself in a museum that houses Assyrian artefacts, I urge you to seek out the winged genii. Stand before them, take in their intricate details, and let your imagination wander through the corridors of time. These figures are more than stone—they are storytellers, guardians, and timeless echoes of a civilisation that once believed the divine walked among them.

Until next time, stay curious and keep exploring the wonders of the ancient world.