Filippo Pedron is a linguist and historian with a background that bridges ancient and modern worlds. He began his academic journey in Florence, where he studied history with a focus on modern cartography and exploration in the New World. After his graduation, he returned to his original passion and pursued an MA in archaeology at the University of Naples “L’Orientale”, where he deepened his focus on the ancient Near East—particularly Elamite language, a rare language that predates the Persian Empire. His interest in Elamite began during an Erasmus exchange in Armenia, where an introduction to cuneiform studies sparked his curiosity about pre-Achaemenid Iranian civilizations. Since then, his academic work has centered on Iranian archaeology, Assyriology, and Elamite studies, reflecting a commitment to uncovering lesser-known aspects of ancient history.
Filippo Pedron is currently a PhD candidate at the University of Helsinki, affiliated with the Centre of Excellence in Ancient Near Eastern Empires (ANEE).
What initially drew you to this project and how does it connect to your broader research interests? What do you expect to learn from it?
My background is a little confused. I wrote my master’s thesis on the Elamite language and wish to be more a linguist than an archaeologist, though my career started as a historian and now I’m back to it. I had already evaluated and rejected a hypothesis for my thesis, so I didn’t want to continue in that direction. Instead, I began working on a dictionary of Middle Elamite (1500 – 1100 BCE), focusing on a different period and typology of texts than what I study now. I sought advice from my specialist, including Dr. Wouter Henkelmann —one of three experts in Elamite and the main scholar on Persian texts from our period. He suggested I start with the Achaemenid period to build a solid foundation before moving further back in time. Later, I attended a workshop in Scotland on the Persepolis Fortification Tablets, where Dr. Gian Pietro Basello and I studied rewards for mothers, such as barley and wine, during the Achaemenid time and this sparked my interest in broader Elamite studies and the Persian Empire.
This project has allowed me to reconnect with my historian background and link language with history. Just focusing on language felt limiting. The work is challenging and incredibly rewarding. I've learned a lot from both the methodology and the scholars involved, and I’ll leave the project with a strong foundation for the future.
Your background includes studying the Elamite connection with Dravidian languages. What first sparked your interest in Elamite studies, and how did it lead you to archaeology?
During an Erasmus exchange in Armenia, I took a course on cuneiform, which introduced me to ancient languages like Elamite, Persian, and Akkadian. I learned that the Elamites were in Persia before the Persians, which intrigued me, especially since Cyrus the Great had always been a hero of mine. This led me to move to Naples to study Elamite. Initially, I was focused on the Middle Elamite period, but I wanted to gain a broader understanding of Elamite across all periods. The advice from my professor and Dr. Henkelman to study the Achaemenid period first made me expand my focus. I then realized I could link my interest in language with my historical background, bringing together the two aspects of my research.
What kind of sources or materials are you working with, and what methodology do you use?
The materials I work with are clay tablets written in cuneiform, and they come in different shapes and sizes. They belong to administrative archives dealing with workers and their rations — especially distributing the rations and transporting them from one place to another. The main archive I work with is the Persepolis Fortification Archive, which was found sealed. At a certain point, they probably decided it wasn’t useful anymore and sealed it away — perhaps thinking they might need it again in the future. The other archive I work with is the Persepolis Treasury Archive, which spans a later period, from the last years of Darius until the first years of Artaxerxes I (492-457 BCE).
For the Treasury archive, they published 139 texts, while for the Fortification archive, they published over 2,000. In total, there are supposed to be around 10,000 texts. Many tablets are well preserved thanks to careful storage, though some from the Fortification Archive are scratched or fragmented due to time and collapsed shelves. In contrast, the Treasury tablets were burned—likely when Alexander the Great set Persepolis on fire—which ironically helped preserve them by hardening the clay.
How do you approach deciphering and interpreting Elamite texts? How does one reconstruct lost languages?
I don’t read cuneiform myself —I’m specialized in the language: phonetics, suffixes, word formation, and translation. Others read the script, but I analyze how the language works. Of the Fortification Archive, 2,000 texts are published with transliteration and translation; 3,000 more are transliterated. Transliterations show the phonetic value of signs, and transcription tries to render how the language was pronounced or how it was working grammatically. I rarely need to check the cuneiform unless something’s unclear.
In the Achaemenid period, most scribes of Elamite language weren’t native speakers , they were trained Persians. They used Aramaic daily but Elamite for royal records. This led to simplification: one sign, like kur, could stand for kar, kir, or ker, making interpretation tricky. For instance, the Elamite spelling kur-taš was used to render the Old Persian word grdaš. I work with transliterations, normalize words, look for roots or parallels, and check for Persian loanwords. The vocabulary is formulaic, so even unclear words can be understood through context. For example, I’m studying texts about seeds: some are clearly rations, some seem for agriculture, and some mention sprouted seeds. Scholars debate their purpose — so interpretation means understanding administrative logic and daily practices.
What are some of the biggest challenges in creating a dictionary for Elamite?
One of the biggest challenges is that Elamite doesn’t yet have a proper dictionary. There’s been a lot of work on Middle Elamite, especially over the last century, and scholars like Hinz and Koch have compiled massive volumes listing all attestations of Elamite words across periods. But these aren’t dictionaries in the usual sense — they’re more like collections of word forms. Let’s take German as an example: a noun could have different cases and a verb different declinations, the work of Hinz and Koch would assign a separate entry to each of them. Their work is huge and useful, but still not a dictionary. Moreover, the reported interpretations can vary widely. The same word has been interpreted as cold, pain, judge, or even Libra. This variation shows how uncertain many interpretations still are.
My approach is to work from the ground up. I start by taking a word from the Hinz and Koch volumes and collecting all its known forms, grouped by root. Then I go back to the original texts and look at the context to see if the sentence gives us any clear clues about the meaning. Often, it doesn’t, but even then, I compile the different scholarly interpretations and note where we simply don’t have enough information yet.
What can an ancient dictionary tell us about an ancient civilization? What words were most essential back then, if we think about the Elamite dictionary you’re working on?
In the texts I’m reading for my PhD, we learn more about how the Elamites organized their work and labor rather than their mentality. Middle Elamite contains interesting terms that help us understand their society. For example, the term kiten refers to the power of the gods bestowed upon the king. It’s a mix of blessing and authority, unique to Elam compared to other Mesopotamian cultures. The word for temple, sian, comes from the root sia-, meaning “to see”, which implies that a temple is the place to see the gods.
Family terms like šak (son), pak (daughter), ruhu (man), and puhu (young adult) show how the Elamite family structure was organized. A lot have been said about the use of this word for royal succession, especially about a combination of them, ruhušak, that seems to indicate a legitimate heir. Some scholars argue that this society may have had matriarchal or avuncular elements, given the terminology, suggesting that women played a significant role in society. These words provide a new perspective on social organization in ancient Elam.
If you could sit down with a historical figure from the period you study, who would it be and what would you ask them?
I’d want to meet Cyrus the Great. Maybe even ride across the Persian plains with him and talk about his life, his ambitions, how it felt to be conquering so much of the known world. And of course, I’d choose him partly because he probably spoke Elamite, so I could finally ask him about the language — maybe even talk a bit about Persian too. Cyrus is such a fascinating figure. People often mention the Cyrus Cylinder — where he talks about allowing freedom of religion — but we know that kind of freedom already existed in many places. He was probably just being politically clever, trying to get the priests of Marduk on his side after the previous king had repressed them. In the Bible, he’s portrayed almost like a prophet — the one who lets people go back and rebuild their temples. I think he’d have amazing stories to tell.
Next week, we continue our conversation with Filippo Pedron, shifting from language to labor in the Achaemenid Empire, where he shares how his linguistic expertise helps uncover hidden insights in the Persepolis archives, revealing complex labor systems and the lives of workers within imperial structures