HISTORICAL DISCOURSE IN HERODOTUS: THE CONSTRUCTION
OF GREEK IDENTITY IN BOOK II OF THE HISTORIES
by
JASON L. BANTA, B.A.
A THESIS
IN
CLASSICAL HUMANITIES
Submitted to the Graduate Faculty of Texas Tech University in
Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for
the Degree of
MASTER OF ARTS
Approved
Accepted
May, 1999
/ ^ ?
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Time and space prevent me from acknowledging all the people whom without this
thesis could not have been written. I would like to of course thank my parents, James
and Maureen, for their efforts and support during these past 6 years. I also extend thanks
to Dr. Nancy Reed, for all of her time she has contributed and the introduction she has
given me into the worlds of Art History and Archaeology, making my goals a reality.
The single person to whom I owe the most, and without whom this thesis would not have
been possible, is Dr. David H. J. Larmour. A friend, a scholar, and a mentor, it is because
of his attentive efforts that I am the student and scholar I am today, and to him I owe a
debt that can never be repaid. Finally, I thank the person who once told me she was
proud of me, at a time when I needed such encouragement, and how much that meant,
and means to me.
u
TABLE OF CONTENTS
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS ii
CHAPTER
I. INTRODUCTION 1
n. SELECTED COMMENTARY 14
m. CONCLUSIONS 54
SELECTED BIBLIOGRAPHY 63
111
CHAPTER I
INTRODUCTION
Many of the difficulties in dealing with Herodotus lie in his importance for
our perception of a volatile and dynamic period in Greek history. Without Herodotus
we would be lacking in a great deal of knowledge concerning events previous to, and
contemporary with, the conflict between the Persian Empire and the assembled Greek
poleis. This has led many scholars to attempt to fit Herodoms into neat categories,
which facilitate our understanding as a modem audience.
Common conceptions of Herodotus have resulted in many polemic conflicts.
The labels normally associated with Herodotus and his work have only clouded the
water frirther. As the "Father of History" Herodotus is worshipped and deified, his
methods and conclusions taken as canonical. While this view validates to a certain
extent the contribution Herodotus has made to the conception the Westem world
holds of its past and heritage, it does it in an uncritical manner that ignores the
ideological paradigms at work within the text. The opposing camp, which designates
Herodotus as the "Father of Lies," while a less naive approach, fails to recognize the
cultural significance of the Histories as a document.' They cite fallacies and
discrepancies within the text and dwell upon its failure as an attempt at history.
Emphasis is placed upon the faults alone in Herodotus' argument, which reveal the
supposedly "unscientific" manner of his work.
' See, for example, Plutarch, De Malignitate Herodoti. ^ See Charles Fomara, Herodotus: An Interpretive Essav (Oxford: Clarendon
Press, 1971), 3-7, 14-18.
1
Neither of these approaches has satisfactorily answered or can ever answer the
basic problems posed by this text. While any scholarly approach is going to carry a
set of biases with it, these two in particular do not only carry specific, even stated,
biases with them, but they are indeed defined by presentist preconceptions. This is
perhaps why Herodotean scholarship has moved away from these approaches in
recent years. Donald Lateiner in particular has worked to dislodge many of the masks
that Herodotus has been forced to wear over the years, and instead is turning back to
an investigation of the text as an organic whole, that, in his words, has "a conscious
method, purpose and literary constmction."^
Herodotus' work therefore cannot be looked at as a simple account of factual
events. First there is the obvious problem: anyone who has read Herodotus
understands that there seems to be very little linear motion within the narrative itself
Numerous scholars have, in a good philological manner, worked to categorize the
seemingly jumbled array of stories in the Histories. Termed either |iu6oi or, less
patronizingly, Xoyoi, these "stories" are seen as satellites orbiting around the main
theme of the Histories, whether that theme be explicit or implicit. They are presented
as an amalgamation, sometimes immediately relevant to whatever argument
Herodotus is currently making, at other times as digressions or forced transitions
between topics. Do these |ju6oi give any coherent stmcture to the overall work?
^ Donald Lateiner, The Historical Method of Herodotus (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1989). I had the opportunity of participating in an electronic mail exchange on the debate raised by Black Athena in 1995 in which Dr. Lateiner also participated, and from which the outline of this thesis took shape.
^ See for example Felix Jacoby, RE Suppl. 2, cf FGrH 76. F64. Also, for a general survey of the scholarship see John L. Myres, Herodotus, the Father of History (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1953).
Again, opinions vary. Some see these stories as forming a tapestry, maybe an
unconscious one, but a system nonetheless that creates an effect of overall unity.
The other approach is to label these nuOoi as "digressions" from the main argument,
only vaguely relevant to Herodotus' discussion. This presupposes that we can
somehow show, through scholarship, that Herodotus' intended work is much different
from the actual work, that the Histories are some imperfect product, fraught with
infelicities. One can see the inherent danger in this argument: ultimately it has no
chance of resolution in a non-theoretical arena. The discussion can continue
indefinitely as to whether or not the surviving text is somehow an inferior product of
a greater vision, but it is a moot discussion, for the very reason that the current form
is the form of the text that has been transmitted to us, and is the only valid tool to use
for our examination of Herodotus. Once the discussion leaves the text behind, it
enters into a world of scholarly instability, and threatens to do great injustice to the
text itself
What is Herodotus first and foremost? Is he a historian, and what exactly does
that term mean to him, and how have we translated the Greek? He declares himself
to be embarking on a new type of writing, one that:
COS nr|TE Td yEvojieva E^ avSpcoTTcbv TCOI xpovcoi E ITTIXQ y£vr|Tai, uri
TE ipya MsydXa TE KQ'I 6coMaaTd,Td JJEV "EXXriai, TCX BE Pappdpoioi
^ Jacoby, 283-336.
diToBExQevTa, dKXEd yEvrixai, Td TE dXXa KQI 5i' fiv aiTiriv ETTOXEMTIO
av dXXriXoioi
The subject of what exactly a historian is, and what it would have meant to the
Greeks, as well as what it means to us, is an issue of great contention. According to
Kurt von Fritz, Herodotus went through a number of transitions, and certain Xoyoi
within the Histories demonstrate immaturity. He claims that Herodotus passed
through stages of being a geographer or ethnographer before he finally achieved the
status of historian. Von Fritz further asserts that "historical criticism is the single
quality that makes a historian a historian."^ He cites the fact that Herodotus is using
less "objective" sources in his information gathering, i.e., common oral traditions.
Yet, this, in Herodotus' mind, and in the overall scheme he is working under, would
not weaken his case but strengthen it, because he is drawing from the oral tradition,
which would definitely be present in the more common of his sources. Therefore,
rather than using such terms as "historical criticism" that carry decidedly modem
assumptions and values, we should try to look at Herodotus and his text in their own
context.
In addition to Herodotus' account of the Persian conflict, the Histories is also
the first extant piece of "historical" research. This means that Herodotus made a
conscious effort to separate actual events from myth by means of personal
^ Herodotus, 1.1 ^ Kurt von Fritz, Die Griechische Geschichtsschreibung (Berlin: de Gmyter,
1967). In particular, von Fritz asserts (158ff) that when he composed Book H, Herodotus was working not as a fully mature historian, but as someone interested mostly in geography and ethnicity.
observation and reported accounts. We can then say Herodotus makes a claim of a
"self determined objectivity." In using the term self-determined objectivity, I mean
that he claims that he is attempting to construct a factual account of the events he is
describing, removing them from the world of myth and folkloric tradition. In this
self determined objectivity he creates a paradigm of historical narrative that has
influenced all future attempts to study or record history in the Westem world.
The term ioTopia for Herodotus encapsulates the process of discovering.
Discovering what? Not the transcendental tmth, as we in the modem world conceive
of it, but the past. This may be seen as Herodotus' representation of what is "tme."
The Greek paradigm of history and tmth is centered on remembering past events.
The term normally translated as tmth is dXr|6Eia literally a state of "not forgetting."
In fact, one of his main goals is to remove the past from a mythical context, and by
legitimizing his accounts through first hand, "objective" reporting, he grounds the
past no longer in myth, but in reality. He emphasizes the fact that his material is
gathered from oral sources which preserve memories of the past, such as local
legends and folklore, and even goes to great lengths to point this out. Even when it
is obvious that a passage has been built upon a written source,'° he still uses the verb
XsyEiv rather than ypd9Eiv, and when he does use ypd9Eiv, it is only for a specific
purpose, to point out that he was forced to joumey outside the realm of oral
^ Ibid., 178. ^Lateiner. 17-26 '° For an examination of Herodotus' use of Hecataeus and other previously
existing sources, see Lateiner 91-110.
memory.'' Yet in his act of collecting these oral traditions and setting them down,
many for the first time, as far as we know, he transforms them from divergent
elements in a chaotic background into an ordered universe. We may not fully
understand this order he has created, but it is nonetheless there, and any denial on a
modem reader's part of this order is due to an inability to grasp the existence of a
stmcture as opposed to the lack of one.
For a long time, one of the most heavily debated digressions or X)7Di has been
Book II. Called by Lloyd Herodotus' ATyuiTTous Xoyos, it previously had been
dismissed by the field as either garbled recollections of half remembered traditions or
fanciful creations by Herodotus to liven up a travel tale. The only major treatment
before recent times of the episode was by Wiedemann in 1890.'^ Recently however
many scholars both in and out of the field of Classics have opened an argument over
the validity and meaning of Book n. The search for the origins of Greek culture has
become more important in our modem society, as the search for history is ultimately
the search for identity and the search for identity has become paramount in an
intemationally expanding world; whether in tmth or hopeful fantasy, Westem society
still largely claims Greece as its progenitor, despite the fact that most institutions that
are attributed to Greek origins resemble them only on the surface.
This argument has flared up with the advent of a type of scholarship that
attempts to question traditional views of Westem academic beliefs. With the
" H. R. Immerwahr, Form and Thought in Herodotus (Chico, CA: Scholars Press, 1966), 4-7, Introd."^
' Alan B. Lloyd, Herodotus Book E (Leiden: E.J. Brill, 1975), ix. A Wiedemann, Herodots zweites Buch mit sachlichen Erlautemngen
(Leipzig: Teubner, 1890)
introduction of new methodology and the opening of the field to a wider array of
participants, the so-called Classical canon is being re-examined. That Westem
scholarship has frequently been an exercise in bigotry and ethnocentrism is a self-
evident fact. It has long been used, under the veil of some sort of scientific
methodology, to substantiate the status quo of social conditions. What better way
then to debase this type of scholarship than to attack it at its source: the previously
unassailable position of Greece as the autochthonic foremnner of Westem
civilization.
Herodotus' claims in Book n, to the effect that the most important aspects of
Greek culture were transmitted in some manner from Egypt have provided the
opponents of traditional Classical scholarship with the means to use its own weapons
against it. In a literal reading of the episode, Greece can indeed be seen as springing
from Egypt, an ancient and colorful culture in its own right, and more importantly for
the argument against Classical scholarship ~ traditionally dominated by white
European males ~ an African one.''* It then follows that if Greece sprang from
Africa, and if Westem civilization from Greece, the logical conclusion, using the
linear methodology of the Westem scholarship that substantiates its claim on Greece
as an ancestor, is that Westem civilization sprang from Africa. This debate has
exploded into the center of an ideologically loaded stmggle over the very nature of
'' For a detailed analysis of evidence conceming the racial origins of the Egyptians, see Cheikh Anta Diop, Civilization or Barbarism: An Authentic Anthropology (Brooklyn, NY: Lawrence Hill Books, 1991). Also, the section on race in Mary Leflcowitz and Guy Rogers, ed.. Black Athena Revisited (University of North Carolina Press, 1996), 103-129 for a current treatment and substantial bibliography conceming the issue.
Classical scholarship in particular, and of academic study in general, throwing
Herodotus back into the center of a wide ranging discussion of identity.'^
How have we, as scholars, arrived at this point in the examination of
Herodotus' work? Presentism and presentist attitudes are vimlent and rampant
diseases in the discussion of Herodotus. As stated above, it is inevitable that one
approaches any subject with his or her own political, temporal, national, gender, and
emotional presuppositions. This is especially tme when dealing with the Classics,
since it is one of the most ideologically precious areas for the traditional conception
of Westem culture and its heritage. For example, organizations such as the Society
for the Preservation of Greek Heritage sometimes appear to act as if scholarship that
threatens the paradigm of Greece as the autochthonic progenitor of Westem culture
somehow diminishes the worth of the Greek "Heritage," whatever that may be.
Herodotus' examination explores the tales of the origin of Westem civilization, and
he has therefore become a focal point for a number of vehement discussions on the
origins of the Classical Greek world, and by extension the hitherto dominant
conception that Westem culture has about its history and historical identity. While the
current argument raging between the radicals of Afrocentric studies and the
reactionaries of Classics has highlighted Book H, unfortunately their debate is
ultimately damaging to our understanding of it. They are removing Book n from its
context, twisting it and abusing for their own agendas. Book n of Herodotus is
' For an elaboration of this heated debate, see Martin Bemal, Black Athena: The Afroasiatic Roots of Classical Civilization, Vols. 1 and 2 (New Bmnswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press, 1987/1992). Bemal constmcts an elaborate and colorful, but ultimately a faulty argument for Egypt as a source of Greek culture. Also, see Mary Leflcowitz, Not Out of Africa: How Afrocentrism Became an Excuse to Teach
important not only for what facts or fantasy it contains, but also, and, I would argue,
more importantly, as an ideological record of stmctures Greek identity following the
Persian conflict.
This is where my inspection of Book U comes in. I propose rather than
approaching the Histories with any particular cultural agenda, to dwell on it for what
it is: a development of a new kind of a discourse, one of historical narrative. Rather
than working from traditional views of the Histories, however, I want to dissect the
discursive stmctures inherent in the Egyptian description. By examining the text, I
hope to uncover the ideological agenda and stmctures behind Herodotus' choices in
his account of Egypt.
Using the modem critical idiom, however, a new method of examining
Herodotus' work emerges. We can speak of Herodotus presenting a new discourse.
When I use the word discourse, I am not using the definition used by Mabel Lang in
reference to Herodotean speech, merely the exchange of information directly or
indirectly between two or more parties.'^ This definition confines itself to the verbal
exchanges within the text, and neglects a broader system of exchanges among text,
author and audience. Hence I am generally speaking, when using the term discourse,
of any system that involves an active exchange of ideologically loaded statements
Mvth as History (New York, NY: Basic Books, 1996). Leflcowitz in her attempt to refute Bemal's argument also does considerable injustice to the material.
' In Herodotean Discourse and Narrative (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press 1984), Mabel Lang deals with the more general problems of analyzing the sometimes problematic discursive stmctures of Herodotus and how these stmctures ftinction as motivating factors within the text as a whole. However, I take a different approach than her; rather than applying predetermined stmctures to Herodotus' text in order to clarify his processes, I instead hope to reveal these stmctures inherent within the text by examining it in a critical manner consistent with modem literary methods.
through language systems both within and existing outside a text, i.e., a pattern of
linguistic exchange and the process of its interaction with an intended or unintended
1 T
audience. Viewed through the stmctures of the text, the methodology of Herodotus
reveals as much about his environment as his reports do. Yet the process of recording
events supercedes any sense of objectivity: the very act of translating the event to
narrative embroils the author's ideology in the material. It is this ideology that needs
to be scmtinized so that we may begin to understand the Histories better as a
document.
In beginning this investigation, I am positing that Herodotus did indeed
consciously compose every aspect of Book U with a preconceived ideological and
cultural agenda. Rather than assuming that it is a barely coherent gathering of
disparate oral traditions, by examining the order and contents of the events and
customs he has described, I hope to prove that there is an underlying unity that does
indeed tie the Egyptian book to the rest of the Histories in a deeper and more
emphatic way than has previously been assumed. Instead of being merely an
interesting digression, and perhaps an amalgamation of some traditions of Greek
origins, it is a calculated attempt to give cultural legitimacy to a fledgling Greek
identity. That is to say, Herodotus is attempting to ground Greek society in the oldest
and greatest culture known to him, Egypt. Whether this assertion on the part of
Herodotus is based in any way on "facts" is of limited importance at this stage of the
investigation. The question is not whether evidence and "history" support Herodotus'
' This definition of discourse is developed by Sara Mills, Discourse (London and New York: Routledge, 1997) and is based largely on the work of Michel Foucault.
10
claims, but why he goes to such extraordinary lengths to establish Egyptian origins as
the basis for all significant aspects of Greek culture.
Charles Fomara has attempted to approach the difficulties of connecting the
Histories as a whole to Book n from an authorial perspective, i.e., who or what was
Herodotus at the time he wrote Book n and how does that affect its composition?
This falls into the trap that has plagued Classical studies since its creation, the
problem of using a single work to recreate an authorial presence. In Herodotus' case,
we are "blessed" with a number of biographical works by other authors, yet these too
were stmggling for the most part under the same burden of reconstmcting Herodotus
from the Histories. Reading in a simplistic manner and ignoring the stmctures that are
embedded within Book n, Fomara claims that Herodotus is in fact just "an author of a
lively book about Egypt, its geography, the people, their customs, religion, and
history."' Fomara strives to demonstrate the roughness of Book n by comparing it
to what he calls the more "refined" Book I.' Claiming that the technical and
organizational stmctures are inferior to those of Book I, he then goes on to say that
the Egyptian episode is a work that is earlier, and ultimately independent of
Herodotus' ultimate goal in the composition of the Histories. He also claims that
Book n lacks the moral and philosophical exploration that is present in Book I. ' I
will argue later that not only is there an element of philosophical inquiry present in
'^Fomara, 16. ' Ibid., 17. ° Ibid., 17. In particular Fomara cites the "simple" stmcture and progression
of Book n as proof that it is an "imperfect" product as compared to the rest of the Histories.
' Ibid., 18.
11
Book n, but that this inquiry, into no less an important subject than cultural identity,
binds the X)7O0) together and also connects it with the rest of the Histories.
In order to produce a work based almost wholly on the text itself my main
source will be Herodotus. I will examine key passages in Book II, transitional
phrases, and specific accounts and descriptions of Egypt and Egyptian culture. I will
then discuss a number of common themes expressed by these key sentences or
passages. Among these themes, I will look specifically at how Herodotus uses time
as a tool with which to establish the supremacy of Egyptian culture over the rest of
the world. Prehistoric time becomes an actuality in Egypt, and there is a national
memory stretching back beyond the mists of recorded Greek time. Also, I will look
at how the physical setting is described and used in Book II and how it relates to
Herodotus' agenda. How and what Herodotus describes reveals a purposeful hand
moving towards an ultimate goal. In particular, I will look at how Herodotus uses his
precise, if not literally accurate, measurements and his attempts at cartography to bind
Egypt into the physical world, again attempting to establish the legitimacy of Egypt's
presence in Greek Identity. Herodotus, in a manner similar to his attempt to separate
the past from the realm of folklore, wants to remove Egypt from the mythological
world and recreate it within a Greek reality.
I will also explore the human actions and events existing in the chronotope
Herodotus establishes in his narrative. Along with apparently banal comparisons of
the culinary, weaving, and urinary pracfices of Greece and Egypt, I will especially
examine the most important and controversial of his cultural comparisons, namely
that of the religions of Greece and Egypt. Along with demonstrating how he attributes
12
even the most tenuous thread of relationship as proof of an Egyptian origin for the
parallel Greek custom, I will look at the incongmities between the two religious belief
systems (insofar as we may safely create such headings as "Greek" religion and
"Egyptian" religion from the numerous traditions of the respective cultures), and how
this reveals the purpose and stmcture of a great part of Book H. The cmx of many of
Herodotus' arguments in Book U, is the belief that antiquity equals authority, and that
if two cultures share a parallel custom, then the older is the originator.
In conclusion, I will use the findings of the investigation of these key parts of
the Egyptian description to form a picture of the narrative stmcture and ideological
agenda of Book H. I will suggest altemative ways of speaking about Herodotus as an
author and his so-called <t)iXop ppapoco attitudes. Ultimately this investigation
cannot answer all the questions about Book H, much less the Histories as a whole.
What I hope to do, however, is to open up a new line of inquiry into the text, not as
fact or fantasy, but as an ideological document preserving precious evidence of what
the Greeks thought of themselves and wished to think of themselves, transmitted
through Herodotus' attempt to constmct a "national" Greek identity in the face of its
immersion into an intemational conflict with unforeseen results.
13
CHAPTER n
SELECTED COMMENTARY
n.2. Oi SE AiyuTTToi TTpiv \i£v f\ TanuriTixov a9£cov PaaiXsOaai
EVOUl OV ECOUTOUS TTpcOTOUS yEV£a8ai TTdVTCOV dvepcoTTcov.
At the beginning of the second chapter of Book E, Herodotus introduces the
topic of antiquity, particularly that of the Egyptians, into his narrative. For
Herodotus, and the Greek world in general, Egypt's past extended frirther back into
Greek prehistory than any other civilization the Greek worid knew of in the 5^ and 4'''
centuries. Herodotus used the antiquity of Egypt, through the citation of the King
Lists, not only to trace its history, but also, by associating Greek cultural and
mythological events with these dates, to establish a legitimacy in the temporal sphere
for Greek culture.
TauMTlTixov-
In Book n, Herodotus is always referring to Psammetichus I (664-610 BCE).'
The selection of Psammetichus, a monarch who had mled in living memory, to
undertake this experiment to determine which civilization was the oldest by
Herodotus, holds significant connotations for the Greek ideological perception of
Egypt's antiquity. The basic nature of the experiment is that Psammetichus wished to
discover which civilization was in tmth the oldest, and in order to discover that, he
had two newbom children (vEoyvd) isolated completely from any cultural
' Lloyd, 2.4. The name is also used in Book VE, but refers to a different individual.
14
contamination in order to see what language they would naturally speak in, thereby
proving that the speakers of that language were the oldest. By using irpiv Herodotus
indicates that previous to Psammetichus, i.e., before recent and documented history,
the Egyptians had assumed that they were the oldest. It was only in relatively recent
times in the Egyptian scheme that any examination was felt to be necessary. Why is
this important, and why would Herodotus point out that until the reign of
Psammetichus, the Egyptians had never questioned their authority? The reign of
Psammetichus in chronological terms lies closer to the emergence of Greek identity
than it does to the high point of the Egyptian Empire. In the period comprising the
height of Egyptian power i.e. 7Tp\v HEV fi H^a^^r|Tlxov . . . PaaiXEOoai there was
presumably or at least according to Herodotus, no attempt to examine this claim of
primacy. Therefore, despite the widely accepted belief in the antiquity of the
Egyptians in the historical scheme of the Greek perception of the world, this
assertion, rather than simply being assumed, must be proved for it to function in
Herodotus' narrative plan.
yauMTiTixos 5E COS eSuvaTO..
Here we have the failure of simple vocal inquiry to discover some fact or
"tmth." Therefore Psammetichus tums to experimental inquiry as a way to prove the
point. Despite the Egyptian setting, this is a uniquely 5^ century Greek way of
solving a problem. The experiment follows a linear model of logic, which appears to
15
be developed from the theories of certain Pre-Socratic philosophers. One of the most
prominent aspects of Pre-Socratic thought is Dualism, i.e., the separation of the worid
into antithetical, balancing pairs; one of the most pervasive of these is the One and the
Many. This conflict of the One and the Many leads not only to other theories of
Pluralism and Atomism, but also to a linear perception of creation and, in tum, of
history. E originally there is One, then it follows that there are Many that come after
this One, and then that their existence is in fact the result from the One. Here is the
basis for the legitimacy of Psammetichus' experiment. E everything in the world
originated from a single source and if one removes a person from all resultant cultural
contamination then whatever remains is entirely derived from the original form. Here
is the cmx of the Herodotean post hoc ergo propter hoc argument, and it is based,
despite its fascination with Egyptian culture, solidly in Greek philosophical soil.
Ultimately the experiment tums against the Egyptians, and it is "proven" that
the Phrygians are in fact more ancient than they are. At first this seems to undermine
the assumption that Herodotus chose Egypt as his great giant of antiquity. Egypt's
position is justified by philosophically and experimentally sound methods in the mind
of Herodotus and of his audience. Hence, despite the fact of Egypt's displacement as
the most ancient culture in the world, it still retains its cultural superiority based not
only on the span of time the culture lasted,'* but on the methodology they used to
ascertain the extent of their antiquity.
^ See John Robinson, An Introduction to Early Greek Philosophv (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1968), especially pages 87-107. In particular Heraclitus' examinations into the opposites of which the universe is comprised provide a conceptual background with which Herodotus would have been familiar.
^ See Hesiod, Theogony 116-134 and Euripides, frag. 484.
16
B.4 5ucb5EKd TE SECOV ETTcovuiJias EXsyov TTpcoTous AiyuTTTious
voMioai Ka\ "EXXrivas Tiapd a9Ecov dvaXapETv ...
It is at this juncture that Herodotus enters into a discussion on perhaps the
most controversial aspect of Book E: the origins of the religious practices of the
Greeks. There is a large conflict here between what the Greek says and what
Herodotus was attempting to communicate.
TE 0ECOV ETTCOVUjiiaS
This is a problematic phrase that plagues and often blurs Herodotus'
explanations of the relationships between Greek and Egyptian religious systems. In
his later description of the Pelasgians (E.50), he also confirms that the "names" of the
gods came from Egypt into Greece, but instead of ETTCovuni'as he uses the term
ouvoiiaTQ, the previous term, EircovuMias, can more properly be seen as epithets,
the descriptions or titles of the gods, i.e., their duties and place in the scheme of the
divine universe. In fact Herodotus uses this term, ETTcovuMias, in referring to the gods
as independent entities, but also uses it in reference to Homer's and Hesiod's naming
of the gods (E.53). Lloyd suggests that ouvonaTa should be read for ETTcovunias, in
concord with Herodotus' later statement that the ouvonaTa of the gods came from
Egypt (B.50).^ E we resist this temptation then we can begin to see a larger conflict
occurring in the work as a whole. A dichotomy is created here between reality and
name, and while Eircovunias and ouvonaTa can be altemative terms for the same
^ Despite the success of the powerful Phrygian kingdom, it nonetheless was destroyed in the 7* century. See Lloyd, 6.
^ Lloyd. Vol.2, 29
17
definition, looking at it in the light of Herodotus' narrative stmcture allows one to see
a path of development from an undefined relationship to a strictly organized one
between Greece and Egypt in Book E. At the beginning, as we have seen, he first
attempts to establish the precedence of Egyptian antiquity through language, and now
he moves on to religion. The term used for the naming of the gods, i.e. the
introduction of language into a cultic sphere, at first seems ambiguous and most likely
this was Herodotus' intention. By setting up an unquestionable yet not completely
defined relationship between these two religious systems, he not only creates another
proof of the antiquity of Egypt, by citing the obvious age of Egyptian religious
practices, but also sets a path for the Book to develop along, a path that will define
this relationship closely as his investigations and interviews continue, thereby
drawing the audience along, as if they were part of a natural discovery process, and
validate his assertions all the more.
5ucb5EKd
Lloyd again offers an explanation for this seemingly innocent word. At first
glance one would assume that Herodotus is speaking of the 12 Olympians. Yet the
only likely cognate for his examination here is the Egyptian Ennead. Yet the Ennead
contains normally not 12, but 9 deities.^ Despite his claim however, Herodotus does
^ Ibid. Lloyd's assertion however is based upon the perceived eagemess of the Egyptian priesthood to emphasis to Herodotus that the origins of the names and natures of the gods came from Egypt to Greece, which steps outside the realm of the text itself
^ Alan Gardiner, Egyptian Grammar, Third Edition (University Printing House, Oxford: 1988). Psdt, or the Ennead, "cycle of the nine gods." Normally this consisted of Atum, Shu, Tphenis, Geb, Nut, Osiris, Isis, Seth, and Nephthys.
18
not provide Egyptian cognates for 12 gods. This seems to create no problem for
Herodotus' agenda for some reason. Here is a prime example of one of the many
difficulties that Herodotus encountered in his travels, that of communicating through
two languages. From most of Herodotus' work, we can infer that he was not fluent in
the language of Egypt and did most of his work through translators. The Olympians
and the Ennead are both the prime grouping of the deities of the respective cultures,
so it seems to be a natural mistake despite the obvious problem of twelve not being
equal to nine. Herodotus could also be constmcting a paradigm of relation based not
on surface, or even reality, but on the essence of the respective systems, therefore
their actual numbers would be mostly immaterial. By doing this, he breaks down the
barriers of visible relations, and the objections one would make on observational
grounds to the relationship between Greece and Egypt he is trying to make.
E.5 TouTo HEV E7T\ TOOOOTO 5T]XOT 7Tp6xv/aiv Tfis yfjs EoOoav.
At the end of chapter 5 and after a description of lake Moeris and the
explanation of the draining of the swamps of Egypt, Herodotus begins a long and
often overlooked section of Book E concemed with the geography of Egypt and those
lands surrounding it. The actual measurements per se are not important to this
investigation save for the care that Herodotus takes to measure out the country into
^ The most common pairings, according to Lloyd, ibid., are Re'/Helios, Shu/Herakles, Osiris/Dionysos, Demeter/Isis, Amun/Zeus and Typhoon/Set. To this Bemal adds Hephaestus/Ptah, Hathor/Aphrodite, Artemis/Bast, Neith/Athena as well associating Set with Ares.
19
units as small as feet. The fact that is relevant here is that he goes to such great
lengths to present the physical worid of Egypt as real.'° Without much doubt, Egypt
existed as a known location in the minds of most Greeks, especially after the Persian
Wars, yet it was still undefined for them. If we accept that Herodotus is creating a
new origin for Greece as a cultural entity, he could not very well have situated the
starting point for Hellenic culture in a semi-fictional land that, while known, was
completely undefined in the ideological paradigm of the Greece that Herodotus is
trying to influence.
In summary, Herodotus describes the following facets of Egyptian geography:
(1) the boundaries of the country and the type of land; (2) distances between the
major cities; (3) formation of the alluvial plains north of Memphis; (4) the Red Sea
and further theories on the formation of the alluvial plains in Egypt; (5) various
opinions on the definition of the boundaries of Egypt; (6) the flowing and flooding of
the Nile, it being different from all other rivers in the world known to Herodotus in
reference to these matters; (7) discussions of the interior of Africa and the lands that
border Egypt. It is plain to see that with the time and effort Herodotus put into this
^ Lloyd, E.40-128 gives an exhaustive account of the probable modem equivalents to Herodotus' measurements as well as associating Herodotus' experiences and descriptions with physical places. While Herodotus' accounts do not always as a mle match the physical remains left, there are two very important points that must be accepted in dealing with his descriptions of the geography of Egypt: (1) That he was indeed familiar with the land, maybe not through personal experience always, but at least from very reliable first hand reports, perhaps through other geographical texts; (2) The remains that are left in the modem era are without doubt in a much different state than when Herodotus was writing his account, and this has to be taken into account when attempting to correlate physical with literary evidence.
'° Compare the writings and geographic texts of Anaximander of Miletus, which give an origin for the methodology used by Herodotus in his examinations and descriptions of alluvial development in Book E. See Diels, Fragmente der Vorsokratiker (Berlin: 1952) DK 12 30,10.
20
section of Book E, that it is more than a passing addendum or interesting digression.
His descriptions have a very definite purpose.
To find this purpose let us begin with the formal pattem he uses to introduce
his topics. In his first section (E.6) Herodotus begins by discussing the length of the
boundaries of Egypt. His first statement is that the silt from the river travels out a full
day's sail from the coast. This is the first reference to his theory of the alluvial nature
of the country of Egypt. After determining the length of the coastline, he then uses a
noteworthy parallel in constmcting distances.
E.7 EOTi BE 656S ES HXIOU TTOXIV dTr6 BaXdoaris dvco iovTi
TTapaTrXriaiTi T 6 nilKpos TT[) BE, 'A6r|VEcov 65cp Tfj and TCOV
BUCOSEKQ SECOV TOO PCOHOO 9Epoioi] ES TE nToav KQ'I E7T\ T6V
VTl6v TOU Ai6s ToO 'OXUMTTIOU.
The Tcbv BUCOBEKQ SECOV TOO PCOHOU was the altar erected by Peisistratus in
Athens c. 522-521 BCE." Since it stood in the agora near the Stoa of Zeus and was
situated at the convergence of a number of large roads, it was often used, similar to
the Golden Milestone of Augustus, as a starting point for measuring distances to
various points.'^ Hence, here once again Herodotus has cleverly employed an object
that his audience would be well acquainted with, something firmly set in their minds
" Thucydides. IV.54. ' John Camp, The Athenian Agora: Excavations in the Heart of Classical
Athens (London: Thames and Hudson, 1986). While both the altar and the milestone of Augustus were actually removed from major road ways, the Panathenaic being the only major road the altar of the 12 gods was close to, nonetheless they both were intimately associated with the idea of distance in their respective cultures and appropriate ideological metaphors in the sense that they would immediately conjure the appropriate images for the audience. For specific geographic details of the
21
as a "real" object and tool, within his description of a completely foreign area in order
to familiarize it to his audience. The TCOV BUCOSEKQ 0ECOV TOO PCJMOO is very
much an ideological center of Self, standing as a physical reminder of Greek identity,
and using it in reference to Egyptian geography also brings that physical distance
closer in terms of ideological terrain. Also in accordance with his forthcoming
theories of the Egyptian origins of the 12 Olympians, this only serves to remind his
audience, as Herodotus begins a large section that does not seem to be immediately
relevant to his argument conceming religion, that this topic of religious dominance is
not forgotten.
The other milestone used for the distance comparison also serves a more
sinister purpose than at first assumed. While the exact nature of what Herodotus
means when using the term ES TE niaav is debatable, it seems here to refer not only
to the district of Pisatis, but also to the site of Olympia itself'^ The vri6v TOU Ai6s
ToO 'OXunTTiou Herodotus is referring to was completed c. 466-456 BCE, well
within not only Herodotus' lifetime, but also that of most of his audience. Also, the
pediments are decorated in accordance with a sense of identity after the repulsion of
the Persian invasions.''* These pedimental sculptures created a new motif in much of
Greek architectural decoration.
Not only has Herodotus managed to bring in a physical reminder of distance,
the altar in Athens, in order to familiarize his audience with his description of a place
location of the Altar of the Twelve Gods see John Travlos, Pictorial Dictionary of Ancient Athens (New York: Praeger, 1971) 458-461.
' Lloyd. Ibid. 46.
22
most of them would have never seen, now he has used the Temple of Zeus as a tool to
bring the description into the present. His audience would have known and
remembered the actual constmction of the temple. By using an object so recent in
time, his description of Egypt is not only physical, but it is current as well. Egypt is a
place with definite boundaries now, but more importantly, rather than merely a
constmct existing in the past, it has contemporaneous existence as well.
E.IO ... cooTTEp Td TE TTEpi "IXiov Ka\ TEu07ravir|v Ka\ ''E9E00V
TE KQI Maidv5pou TTEBIOV...
Herodotus makes another bold assertion in chapter 10. He seems to be
motivated by his interest in alluvial development, as this was a fascinating subject for
most Ionian philosophers.'^ His interest in this subject, however, also paves the way
for his description of the similarities between Egypt and one of the most ideologically
significant areas for the Greeks: Ilium.
While topographically there is a great similarity between the geographical
processes of alluvial depositing in the Nile valley and on the Scamander plain, one
can not ignore the implications here. Herodotus has bound Troy with Egypt, in the
mind of his audience. Herodotus has placed Egypt along with the Diad and the
Odvssev. documents that defined the national Greek identity, in his attempt to define
a new identity based not solely on an intemal discourse, but an intemational one.
'"* See E. Norman Gardiner, Olympia, Its History and Remains (Oxford: Oxford Press 1925) and Ludwig Drees, Olympia (New York: Praeger, 1968),135-140, for more in-depth examinations of Olympia's architecture and history.
E one looks at the geography of the areas around Miletus, especially because of the Meander, one can see a possible origin for the extreme interest that Ionian philosophers had in alluvial deposits in reference to the creation of the world.
23
E.19 TOU TTOTaHoO 5E 9UaiOS TTEpl OUTE Tl TCOV lEpCOV OUTE
dXXou OOBEVOS TTapaXapETv EBuvdaOiiv.
Herodotus has yet to stress the maimer in which many aspects of Egypt
behave in a way opposite to the rest of the worid, at least the rest of the worid as seen
by his Greek audience. Rather than being merely an interesting aside conceming an
exotic country, it is instead a careftilly implemented plan to use Egypt as an
ideological tool. The Nile is by far the largest geographical feature of the Egyptian
landscape, and often the use of its name refers to the entire country by synecdoche.
The Nile, however, behaves in opposition to all other rivers known to Herodotus, i.e.,
in the direction it flows and the times it floods. As well as its actions, Herodotus is
interested, like any Greek of his time following the Ionian tradition, in the origins of
the river. Unlike his other investigations, no definitive answer can be found. We hear
of two prevailing Greek theories, which Herodotus summarily dismisses, to put forth
his own third theory, based on his own observations. Yet no definitive conclusion
comes of this and he ends the section with the ambiguous statement TQUTQ UEV VUV
EOTco cos £< Ti T£ Ka\ cos ^PXh^ EyEVETo (E.28). This seems to be a divergence
from Herodotus' previous process of painstakingly defining every minute detail of the
geography of Egypt. As we shall see in the development of his narrative throughout
the book, this dissolution of the factual as it travels temporally backwards is instead a
counter-approach that he will use to attempt to seal Egypt's role as the progenitor of
Greek culture.
24
n.35 "Epxonai 5E iiEpi AiyuTTTou MTIKUVECJV T6V Xoyov, OTI
-rrXETaTa OuMdoia EXEI [ f\ T] dXXr] Trdoa x^P^l 1 KQI Epya
Xoyou ME co TiapEXETai •TTp6s Tidaav X^P^v.
Having finished with his exhaustive description of the geography of Egypt,
Herodotus now prepares to delve into the cultural peculiarities of the Egyptians
themselves. His opening sentence indicates a logical relationship between the
unusualness of the Nile and the unusualness of the population surrounding it.
E.35 Ev ToToi ai MEV yuvalKEs dyopd^ouai KQI KaMTTiiXEuouoi,
oi 5E dvSpEs KQT' OTKOUS EOVTES u9a(vouoi.
This begins the description of the 'topsy-turvy' nature of Egyptian daily
culture. Gender roles are reversed in both urinary and social practices, with the
female taking the dominant role, whether it is in business, family, or physical labor.
The religious practices and appearances of the priests differ greatly from the Greek
model as well. Egyptians do not differ just from the Greek paradigm, but also from
ToToi dXXoioi dvSpcoTTOioi and TOTOI UEV dXXoiai dvOpcbiroioi x^opis- The
contradiction is not just with what the Greeks normally do, but with practices across
the world.
There are multiple levels to Herodotus' purpose in these descriptions. These
precise descriptions bring the people of Egypt alive for his audience. He describes
their everyday routines, creating breathing subjects with which it is possible to relate.
The veracity of the claims is again a moot point, it is not completely relevant to this
study that yes, indeed, many Egyptian households had interior toilet areas, or that
men did weave in a professional capacity in Egypt.
25
He has also isolated Egypt from the rest of the worid, allowing himself to
concentrate completely on Egypt rather than also worrying about the rest of the worid
in Book E. In order for Greece to have its origins in Egypt, Egypt has to become a
real place for his audience, but it cannot become too familiar. Herodotus' goal to a
certain extent is to give legitimacy to the Greek national identity emergent after the
Persian conflict, not to replace it with one that is purely Egyptian. Hence, while in
the process of attempting to subtly bind Greece to Egypt with his narrative, Herodotus
must also create enough distance that will not only allow Greece to keep an individual
identity but ultimately to show this identity as an improvement over its origins.
E.37 6EOOE|3EES SE TTEpioocbs EOVTES MdXioTa irdvTcov
dvSpcoTTcov vojjoiai TOIOIOIBE XPECOVTQI.
Again Herodotus uses phrases like irdvTcov dvSpcoTTcov to set Egyptian
practices in opposition to the rest of the world. The term SEOOEPEES as Lloyd points
out has a double connotation, both personal devotion to a god or gods and the
resultant magical benefits attained from said devotion.'^ In Book E the important
part of Herodotus' argument for the Egyptian origins of Greek culture is that relating
to religion. Since this issue of religion it so central to Book E's agenda, it stands to
reason that Herodotus would need to emphasize once again the importance of religion
in Egyptian life. As well as using this to provide an origin, he employs the zeal of the
Egyptians as a contrast to the current Greek model. The emergence of Pre-Socratic
thought into the mainstream caused a new era of investigation based not on just pure
knowledge, but on empirical tmths derived from experimentation and observation.
26
This emergent Pre-Socratic thought in Greece questioned both social and
religious institutions. As Herodotus describes the fervent attitude the Egyptians hold
to religious custom, their scouring of drinking vessels daily, their refusal to eat
unclean animals, and the absurd practices of insuring the purity of sacrificed animals,
he creates a twofold picture. One the one hand, admiration for their strict adherence
to their religious beliefs is no doubt aroused in Herodotus' audience. Yet, there has to
be a sense of the Egyptians being trapped by their devotion, for they could in no way
question or examine their practices because of the zealousness of their performance of
them. This anti-intellectual attitude no doubt sounded backward and a bit mstic to
the mind of the 5 century Greek like Herodotus or his audience, who was
experiencing the world in a new way, not bound by religious observances, but
engaged in the physical examination of their environment. We can say therefore that
the Greeks, speaking in general terms about Herodotus' audience, may have admired
the piety of the Egyptians in reference to their religious adherence, and might even
feel a sense of pride that their own religious practices may have originated in such
places. Yet a Greek would also feel alienated from the static nature of the
continuation of such vigorous actions without any real introspective examination of
the practices themselves.
This introduces the main distinctions that Herodotus will draw between Greek
and Egyptian culture. While Egypt has chronological precedence in both the
existence of its nation and its religious practices, it is to a certain extent completely
defined by the life it has led in the past; the Egyptians' anfiquity, and hence their
religion, are remnants from Greek pre-historic time. They are static, with no forward
' Lloyd. Ibid. 164. 27
motion, and therefore in the course of the Persian conquests they are swept under the
dominion of the Persian King without much dispute. Greece on the other hand is a
mobile culture. The intellectual climate is energetic and the world is now open to a
new interpretation. Tmth is no longer rehgious doctrine, instead it has become an
empirical solution. Herein lies the difference between Greece's past and its future.
The world of the Egyptian is mled by religious doctrine, the world of the Greek is
mled by his own intellect, according to Herodotus' scheme.
E.42 'HpaKXEQ SEXfjaai TrdvTcos i5£o0ai T6V Aia...
Herodotus now begins the problematic process of associating what commonly
seems like two divergent religious traditions, Egyptian and Greek, into a single
system. There are a number of difficulties, because many of the deities worshipped
by the Greeks are antithetical to the Egyptian mindset. Herodotus, rather than
tackling the underlying problems of the different natures of the respective gods,
instead attempts to come to terms with the physical contradictions, starting with the
appearance of Amun.' Introducing this section he states 'AnoOv ydp AiyuTiTioi
KaXsouai T6V Ai'a. Interestingly enough, it is the Egyptians who call Zeus Amun,
rather than the Greeks calling Amun Zeus, as one would expect following Herodotus'
previous antiquity argument. Also, the story begins in the Greek paradigm, i.e. Zeus
is in the form that the Greeks are familiar with, rather than whatever form Amun
would have normally appeared in for the Thebans. Also, Herodotus has yet to make
' 'Imn-r', hterally the dominant male aspect of the Theban trinity, associated with Zeus because of the title 'Imn-r' nsw ntr(w), "Amun-re king of gods." See Gardiner 533 and Lloyd 190.
28
the distinction between the divine Herakles and the hero Herakles and if we assume,
as he states.
GripaToi UEV VUV KQI oooi 5id TOUTOUS otcov dTTEXOvcoTai,
5id Td5E Xsyouoi T6V V6|JOV T6V5E 09(01 T£0fjvai.
that he is reporting an Egyptian story conceming this practice, a number of problems
arise.
First, why would the Thebans need to justify the difference between the
appearance of Zeus, in the Greek pantheon, and Amun, in the Egyptian pantheon.
According to Herodotus, the names of the gods came from Egypt. Herodotus also
emphatically claims that not just names but the forms came from Egypt. Logically
then the burden of explanation would seem to be upon the Greeks to explain why
Zeus does not appear with a ram's head. Secondly, if we look ahead to the end of
chapter 50, when Herodotus plainly states vo\x\^o\Jo\ 5' cbv ou5' fipcooi
OUSEV (E.50) then we have a definite and obvious contradiction. Herakles in this
story is certainly acting as a hero,' since if he was divine why would Zeus/Amun
avoid revealing his visage to him? Yet Herodotus clearly states the Egyptians call no
one heroes.'^
' A hero in the sense that in this scenario Herakles' half-divine nature is stated, i.e., he wishes to see his father Zeus.
' As Lloyd states (194), in this story, from wherever Herodotus may have heard it, Herakles is most likely to be associated with Chonsu, Hns', who was the son aspect of the Theban trinity, along with Mut completing the triad as the female. His name means "to travel" and therefore could have been easily associated with Herakles in the mind of Herodotus.
29
The question is what do these contradictions mean for the argument the
Herodotus is putting forth? Has Herodotus made a mistake? My opinion is definitely
not. Here we have the early stages of his argument for the relationship between
Greek and Egyptian religious systems, therefore his goal is not strict accuracy or
precision, but just repeated and vivid association. This story, with its definite bent
towards the Greek perspective, involves his audience with this new discourse on
religious origins and similarities. Also, strictly speaking, this contradiction would
have been missed by most of his audience, in the original presentations of this
material: The statement conceming the Egyptian taboo against heroes comes
significantly later, and if we posit public recitations of Herodotus' work first, rather
than written distribution, then it is very likely that the audience could not have made
this connection.
E.43 'HPQKXEOS 5E iTEpi T6CO5E [T6V] Xoyov fiKouoa, OTI Z\T[
TCOV BUCOBEKQ 0ECOV
Herodotus continues with the subject of Herakles. Again we mn into the
problem of Herodotus associating the twelve Olympian gods with the Egyptian
pantheon, even though the normally accepted number of the latter, as has been
pointed out earlier, is nine. Along with this, Herodotus also associates Herakles with
a divine figure, following right after the Theban story, despite the fact that the Theban
episode has a distinct heroic flavor. Yet Herodotus then goes on to distinguish
between the "Herakles" of Egypt and the hero of Greece. And of course, since
"Herakles" exists both in Egyptian and Greek cycles, it must have emerged in the
Egyptian fu-st. Working on this assertion then, and still keeping in mind the
30
forthcoming statement conceming heroes and Egypt in chapter 50, we can safely say
that Herodotus claims that a divine Herakles preceded the mortal. He further proves
his point, that the Greeks took the name Herakles from the Egyptian, by citing the
fact that Amphitryon and Alkmene were descendants of Perseus, and therefore of
Egyptian origins. This seems to disregard the half-divine nature of Herakles in the
Greek tradition. However, if Herodotus is eschewing the tradition of Herakles being
the son of Zeus, then why would Herakles in the previous episode conceming Amun
have been seeking to see the visage of his father Zeus?
COOTE TOUTCOV d v Ka\ HdXXoV TCOV 0Ecbv Td OUVOjiaTQ
E^ETTlOTEaTO AiyUTTTlOlOl f\ TOU 'HpOKXEOS-
This brings in the argument over the meaning of the term TO ouvopa.
Assuming that it means simply "name" here is rather absurd, as it is very unlikely that
the Egyptian and Greek names of the deities shared enough phonetic similarity to be
called the "same." ° A better option, although not a completely defensible one, is to
translate the term as "personality" or "aspect." It is an easy logical jump then to
associate these definitions with the term archetype used in categorizing mythological
° Bemal attempts, however, based solely on what he sees as "obvious" linguistic connections, to maintain that the names were indeed the same, and that the Greeks were aware of this connection. This argument presupposes a number of points, however: (1) that Herodotus or his sources were listening to Egyptians speaking Egyptian, and not through some sort of translator who would automatically have associated certain terms with Greek equivalents; (2) that the accepted etymology for the name of Herakles, "Hpa KXEOS is not correct, despite the fact that the name is clearly Greek and the mythological connotations fit rather well; (3) that there was some sort of knowledge of the mles of linguistic development among the Greeks and Egyptians that would allow them to see the trends and changes over time
31
trends. The archetype from which Herakles is a descendent from stretches back,
literally, to time immemorial. '
Herodotus continues his search for the origins of Herakles, but what is he
really searching for? He cannot be searching for the origins of the Greek Herakles.
He has already said that this is a Greek appropriation of an earlier myth, but it has
been changed significantly enough for it to be considered "contaminated" from its
original source. In fact, Herodotus has skillfully hidden a secret message in this
search for a tme Herakles. He does not need to search for the origins of the Greek
Herakles, because he fiill knows where it came from: Greece. Since the Greek
Herakles has been changed and apparently "misrepresented" as the "tme" Herakles,
then the Greeks have created a new character, the hero Herakles, which is foreign to
the tenets of Egyptian religion.
' Bemal does an impressive job of cataloguing the history of the archetype of the Herculean figure throughout Egypt, Assyria, and even Pre-Sumerian settlements. He, however, misses the point of what an archetype is. Without a doubt the kind of character type of Herakles is far more ancient than the Greek figure, yet the details of the Greek figure reflect the unique Greek interpretation of the myth. The Egyptian equivalent can be called the same as the Greek Herakles with only as much validity as say one may call Zeus and Jupiter, or Mars and Ares the same. That is only by reducing the archetype to the extremes of Campbellian generics can these gods be called the same, and then they cease to be the gods we are attempting to talk about. Also, for other discussions on the different varieties Herakles discussed by Herodotus, see Walter Burkert, Greek Religion: Archaic and Classical. Trans John Raffan (Cambridge, Mass: Harvard University Press, 1985) and John Gould, "Herodotus and Religion," Greek Historians (Oxford: Clarendon Press 1994).
32
E.49 f\h^ GOV SoKEEi Moi MsXdnTTOus 6 'AMUOECOVOS TTIS OUOITIS
TQUTTisouK ETVQI dSofis dXX' EMTTEipos. "EXXiioi ydp
MEXdnTTous EOTI 6 E^riyiiodnEvos TOU Aiovuoou TO TE ouvopa
Ka\ 0uoir|v Ka\ TTJV TTOHTTTIV TOO 9aXXou.
Besides Herakles, Herodotus is very interested in the parallels between
Dionysus and Osiris. Again he mns into the same blockade he was faced with in the
relation between the Greek Herakles and the other Heraklean archetypes, the fact that
the match can not be made perfectly. The riUials of Osiris and Dionysus were indeed
very different, despite the fact that both deities share a number of traits, i.e., the dying
god motif, vegetation, resurrection, and fertility. Yet the practices of the Dionysian
rituals were not, to Herodotus, Greek in character at all, and therefore had to be the
result of some foreign influence. While there are surface similarities between the
worship of Osiris and Dionysus, Herodotus needs to constmct some reasonable
excuse for the divergence, if he wants to place Dionysus as Osiris. His story of
Melampus of Pylos provides him with just that reason.
According to Herodotus, Melampus brought the name of Dionysus from
Egypt to Greece along with the practice of worshipping him as well as the oracular
arts. Yet he did not frilly understand them, therefore the rites practiced in Greece are
cormpted from those of the Egyptians. It is interesting to note that Herodotus does
not go to any lengths to discover other origins for Greek customs besides the
Egyptian ones. Herodotus interjects as almost an aside: 7TEu0£O0ai hi \xo\
5oKE£l JidXlOTQ MEXdHTTOUS Td TTEp'l T 6 V AlOVUOOV TTQpd KdBpOU TE TOO
What exactly is meant by foreign influences has always been problematic. Dionysus was worshipped in Greece as far back as the Mycaenean period, see L.
33
Tuplou Ka\ TCOV cjuv airrcp EK OOIVIKTIS d-rriKOUEVcov ES TTIV VUV BoicoTinv
KQXEOMEVTIV xcbpriv. This is the theory of Phoenician origins for the worship of
Dionysus as transmitted through Cadmus of Tyre. Looking at this explanation in a
purely mythological sense, this seems a much more likely source for the cult of
Dionysus rather than Egypt, yet it gets only a sentence. Also, it seems to contradict
Herodotus' previous statement about Melampus transmitting the worship from Egypt.
The problem lies here with Herodotus trying to reconcile probable traditions
with his current agenda. His audience would certainly be familiar with the Theban
cycle and the theory of transmission from Phoenicia by Cadmus, and would have
noticed its omission in the face of this new theory involving Melampus of Pylos.
Therefore, perhaps as a method of vaccination, Herodotus is obligated to mention it.
We can therefore make the same distinction we did earlier, with the problem of the
multiple Herakles. Dionysus, son of Semele, is a Greek figure, akin to the manner in
which the hero Herakles is a Greek figure, but the larger tradition can indeed be seen
as springing from Egypt, and even farther East.
Palmer Mycenaean Greek Texts (Oxford: Oxford Press, 1963) 225. It seems the most prominent "foreign" influence in the cult of Dionysus is Thracian.
^ A practice by which an author substantiates his own view or point by introducing a counter point and then systematically destroying that point. This pracficed is well attested in Homer by Roland Barthes; this idea is also reflected in the logic problems of Zeno used in his philosophical arguments, see Robinson 121-134, as well as the story of Anaxagoras' explanation of freak occurrences in response to a priest's interpretations, Plutarch Vitae. Pericles. 5.
34
E.50 CJXESOV 5E KQ'I TrdvTcov Td ouvonaTO TCOV 0Ecbv E^
AiyuTTTou EXr|Xu0E ES TTIV 'EXXd5a.
Here Herodotus bluntly and almost anticlimactically states the result of the
argument over Egyptian origins for Greek religious customs. Again, his argument of
antiquity equaling authority backs this assertion. The fact that he uses the phrase Td
ouvouQTa has to be significant. Why not just say all the gods rather than the names
of all the gods came from Egypt into Greece? Those gods that did not come from
Egypt he assigns neatly to the pre-Dorian Pelasgians. While the existence of the
Pelasgians as actual historical figures is debatable at best, nonetheless they are an
integral part in the transmission of the names of the gods to Greece.
E.50 vo[i[C,o\jo\ 5' cbv AiyuTTTioi ou5' iipcooi OU5EV.
This shattering statement is much more important in Herodotus' argument
than Lloyd lets on. The fipcos was an integral part of not just the Greek religious
systems, but the social and cultural history as well. In the 5^ century, for the Greek,
the Tipcos was not just an intermediary between the mortal and divine worlds, he was
an expression of Greek identity in its most concrete form. The presence and
importance of the iipcos was evident in the archaic period, but now, with the re-
enforcement of the power of the TTOXIS and with the importance of the citizen
increasing, the fipcos became an expression of an ideal; this ideal reflects the choice
of the deeds and accomplishments of mortals over those of the gods.
'* Lloyd. 238. He claims that it is just a matter of definitions, but I think indeed there is a much deeper distinction which Herodotus is attempting to make here.
35
This is a very important opposition, and the exclusion of fipcos in the
Egyptian mythic cycle, as a Greek would define npcos, ie., a mortal who attained
special recognition rather than one elevated to divinity, would have alienated a Greek
from the Egyptian religious system. Also, by explicitly stating that the Egyptians did
not have the fipcos which the Greeks did, Herodotus is implicitly asserting this
practice as a uniquely Greek one. This without a doubt is an intentional assertion,
and by looking at the mythological difference between a heroic archetype and a
divine one we can see that Herodotus is further developing one of his main themes. E
we examine the paradigm of Egyptian divinity, it is a relatively static one. Action
within the Egyptian pantheon has occurred in it before, but in the prehistoric past.
The Egyptians, save for the deified pharaohs, have had no significant mythological
movement in historic time.
The Greek cycles rather than static, stale immobility, exhibit an energetic and
historic action. The Trojan War, while hundreds of years in the past, is still within
the realm of historic time for Greece. The retelling of the stories of the heroes after
the war, first by the lyric poets and then in the dramas of the tragedians kept the
action current in the minds of the Greek audience. A hero by nature had to be an
active force. It was for his actions, one of the things that endeared heroes to the 5*
century Greek, that he was rewarded, rather than because of some inherent divinity.
This again stresses the overall difference that Herodotus has set up between
Egypt and Greece. Egypt represents the past, greatness in antiquity. Greece is heir to
that greatness, but exists in the present and still has an active role to play in the
development of the world.
36
E.52 E0UOV BE irdvTa irpoTEpov oi FFEXacry oi 0EOTOI ETTEUXOMEVOI,
cos eyco EV AcoBcbvri oT5a dKouaas, EMCOVUUITIV 5E OU5' ouvopa
ETTOIEOVTO OUBEVI axjTcbv. ou ydp dKTiKOEoav KCO.
Herodotus now provides his audience with an important distinction between
form and title. The Pelasgians worshipped the same gods, apparently, as the
Egyptians did, but had never named them as such. It was only at a later time that the
name of each respective deity was introduced to the Pelasgians, who dutifully applied
and used those names, which of course came from Egypt, and from there the practice
came to the Athenians and hence to the rest of Greece. While seeming an innovative
and rational theory, there are a number of ideological forces at work here in
Herodotus' narrative. First, the idea of the name and Xoyos again enter the picture.
Picking up the thread of a number of Pre-Socratic philosophers, ^ Herodotus is
continuing a tradition of the universe first existing as a jumbled conglomerate, all
mixed and undifferentiated, then giving rise to an ordered system only after it is
categorized, i.e., the universe is ordered only by its actualization in language. This
not only follows the tradition of the cosmogonies of many Pre-Socratics, such as
Pythagoras and Anaxagoras, but also fits well into the idea of 5* century rationalism
that pervaded not only the Pre-Socratics but also the general intellectual environment
of Greece.
Herodotus presupposes a number of things with this statement of the
Pelasgians obtaining the names of the gods from the Egyptians. One, that the gods
across cultures are identical and only separated by their names, which also imply their
37
personalities. Elements of Pythagoreanism are emerging in this statement again with
the fact that only the act of naming an object separates it from an overall unity with
the rest of the universe.
Herodotus glibly states only the day before yesterday the Greeks came to
know what the gods were, for before the introduction of the names and personalities,
the gods had no real existence in the Greek mind. Here it may help to reach back into
the modem critical idiom and pull out Lacan's theories on the Imaginary, Real and
Symbolic to understand the tme significance of this passage. ^ Herodotus is positing
a Real state, an actuality that transcends culture and space. One can only begin to
understand this actuality by attempting to define it, using names and signifiers, and by
representing it in the Symbolic world, which is defined by the use of language, to
organize and look at the Real. Before this state however, all things are jumbled,
blurred, just like the way the Pelasgians thought of the gods before the introduction of
names and personalities of the gods. The Pelasgian interpretation of the divine before
the introduction of the Egyptian is a perfect presentation of Lacan's Imaginary world.
So as well as providing the Greeks with the names of the gods, Herodotus is
also attributing a greater inheritance from the Egyptians, that of the ability to reason
and to order the universe in general. It was the introduction of the practice of naming
the gods that eventually provided the Greeks with the tools with which to develop
9^
See Robinson, in particular the chapters conceming Pythagoras, 57-86, Heraclitus, 87-108, and Empedocles, 151-174.
^ A tripartite distinction found in the works of Jaques Lacan containing the following stmctures: (1) The Imaginary can be seen as the pre-verbal stage, a state of non-distinction between the self and the environment; (2) The Symbolic is the realm of language and symbolism, the social and cultural processes of how we perceive the worid; (3) The Real is finally that which exists outside these two realms, which the Symbolic attempts to represent, but what ultimately can never be known.
38
their current intellectual environment. This is not to say that Herodotus attributed the
advances and products of 5''' century Greek natural philosophy directly to the
Egyptians, for the Egyptians only provided the basis, the tools by which the unique
Greek mindset was able to develop into what was. But this distinction is again very
important in Herodotus' overall agenda. Egypt provided the basis, but Greece took it
to the logical conclusion and exercises, in the present, the intellectual power that was
resultant.
E.53 'HoioBov ydp Ka\ 'Oniipov riXiKiriv TETpaKooioioi ETEOI
5oKEco liEu irpEoPuTEpous yEVEoOai Ka\ ou TTXEOOI.
The mention of Homer and Hesiod is very significant in the line of argument
Herodotus is attempting to constmct. As seen earlier, Herodotus claims that while the
foremnners of Hellenic civilizations, the Pelasgians, did worship gods and have
religious institutions in an abstract manner, it was only after appropriating the names
and personalities of the gods from the Egyptians that they entered into a state of
knowing the divinities, as they are popularly conceived of in Herodotus' time. This
does not presuppose that the Egyptians introduced gods or religion into Greece,
because, as stated before, Herodotus claims that only the Td dvopaTa are taken
from the Egyptians, the names, or more aptly, the personalities and aspects. An
obvious contradiction is set up here if we accept that Td dvopaTa means more than
mere names, but the more general aspects and personalities of the gods. Looking
more closely we constmct the line of argument the Herodotus is putting forth here.
The gods, or the forces of creation, are already in place, before the Egyptians
or the Greeks named them. Therefore, the Egyptians did not create the gods, for
39
while Herodotus is attempting to base the origins of certain religious practices firmly
as emanating from Egypt, he however cannot go so far as to remove the sense of
uniqueness of the Greek practices. In using the purposefrilly ambiguous term
Td ovoMOTa Herodotus has both associated the cultural origins of Greece strongly
within Egypt, yet he has also asserted the individuality of Greek culture.
This was the beginning, for Herodotus, of the development of many of the
religious institutions active in Greece, in a diluted form from the original Egyptian
practices. From this base, once the cosmogony of the gods and the worid was
established, the Greek worid proceeded into new intellectual territory that left behind
its Egyptian origins.
Naming Homer and Hesiod now as the progenitors of the popular
cosmogonies leads to a logical contradiction, but an ideological triumph. Without
arguing about the dates and existence of the Pelasgians, we can safely say that they
are just a vehicle for the ideological agenda of Herodotus. He has used them as the
precious link he needed between Egypt and Greece, his Piltdown man if you will.
The actuality of the Pelasgians is moot; for Herodotus they have served their purpose,
and now he has discarded them and instead tumed his attention to the most important
documents for the Greek identity.
Now instead of the Pelasgians asking the oracle at Dodona for permission to
use the Egyptian names, Herodotus has tumed away and back to what, in the Greek
mind, would seem the more important origin of the current ideas of "theogonies." In
his constmction of this new discourse, Herodotus now includes Homer and Hesiod.
So, despite the fact that he has claimed, and effectively bound, the foundations of the
40
Greek religious systems within Egyptian practices, he now tums about and reaffirms
the uniqueness of the Greek religious ideology.
E.58 TravTiyupias 5E dpa KQI TTOHTrds Ka\ trpooaycoyds
TtpcoToi dvOpcoTTcov AiyuTTTioi Eioi oi TToiTioduEvoi, Ka\ irapd
TOUTCOV "EXXriVES M£lia8r|Kaoi.
Here Herodotus is not just speaking of strictly religious gatherings, but also of
those festivals that combine many social functions, i.e. the Olympian or Pythian
festivals, also the local gatherings such as the Hyacinthia in Sparta and the Eleusinia
in Athens, along with the Dionysia, both Greater and Lessers. ^ Herodotus claims
again that because of the antiquity of the meetings in Egypt, the Greeks must have
borrowed the practice from them. Herodotus however fails to cite any evidence for
the "obvious" antiquity of the Egyptian practices. His purpose in this passage is not in
fact to draw another link between Greece and Egypt, but instead to distance them in
order to define Greek culture more clearly.
Herodotus continues this passage by claiming that rather than the "rare"
meetings of the Greeks in such festivals, because of their great adherence to religious
practices, the Egyptians have many such events. He then goes on to describe one
such event, yet the effect Herodotus creates is one of excess. Herodotus paints for his
audience pictures of hordes of Egyptian citizens performing arcane dances and rituals,
for no obvious religious, not even speaking of any practical, purpose. Across the
countryside, lights and dancing indicate a festival day. Everyone participates in these
celebrations without distinction. There is no escape from such festivals in Egypt, for
27 Lloyd. 265-5.
41
they are the essence of what the underlying pylons of Egyptian culture are
constmcted from.
This scene provides a telling glimpse into a 5* century Greek's view of Egypt.
The solemn has become commonplace. Instead of creating a sense of a pious
population, we have a frenzied people performing esoteric rites they do not
understand; the repeated actions have lost their meanings. Rather than looking
towards the real world, the physical world, the Egyptian is caught up in some sort of
religious dream. Their religious practices take up so much of their time that they are
ineffectual as forces of change in the world. Herodotus leaves his audience with a
sense of Egypt being all practice, and very little substance, as compared to the
Greeks, who do participate in such large festivals, but are not so controlled by them
that they lose touch with their physical existence. It is a stark contrast between
Greece and Egypt when we see the Egyptians praying for guidance as the Persian
army marches upon them, when conversely we have the Greeks preparing for war.
Ultimately this is the major distinction and improvement of Greek culture over that of
the Egyptians.
42
E.77 AuTcbv BE Brj AiyuTTTicov o'l UEV iTEpi TTIV OTTEiponEVTiv
AiyuTTTov oiKEOuoi, nvriunv dv0pcb7Tcov TrdvTcov EiraoKEovTEs
pdXioTa XoyicoTaToiEioi uaKTrcp TCOV Eycb so BidiTEipav
dTTiKonriv.
This begins Herodotus' attempt to legitimize the superiority of the knowledge
of the leamed men of Egypt, the priestly caste, from whom Herodotus claims to have
acquired most of his information. An interesting fact is that Herodotus attributes no
innate intellectual superiority to the Egyptian. Not from any love of knowledge, but
through astute and assiduous record keeping do the Egyptians have claim to
information not available to the Greeks. Herodotus continues in this section with
descriptions of the gmeling physical life that the priest undergoes to ensure his health,
and therefore his longevity, and hence his ability to pass on information.
There are two ways to approach Herodotus' account of the practices of the
priests to ensure their health. The first, and most commonly held, is one of
admiration for the piety of the priests. Herodotus is recording these things as proof of
the diligence and hence love of knowledge that the Egyptians have. Their physical
rigors in a certain sense reflect the lengths that the priest is willing to go in order to
preserve and pass on knowledge.
The other interpretation is less flattering. The priest, lacking the intellectual
drive to pursue knowledge, and not just the drive, but the capability, must resort to
physical measures to enable him to pass on knowledge and history effectively. This
is not immediately evident, but in later chapters, as Herodotus goes to great length to
describe the care and diligence with which the Egyptian priests preserve the memory
of the past, the audience is delivered a mixed signal of both admiration at such effort
43
and the incredulity at the absurd lengths gone to for the sake of the preservation of
tradition, i.e. the apparent use of wooden statues by the Egyptian priests to represent
generations that represent time spanning back 11,340 years. ^
E.99 Msxpi MEV Tovrrou 6v|;is TE EMTI KQI yvcbun KQI ioTopi'ri
TOOTQ Xsyouod EOTI, T6 BE dird TOUBE AiyuriTious Epxonai
Xoyous epecov KOTd Td fiKouov.
This statement conceming the methodology of Herodotus' previous inquiries
here is a preamble to his discussion of the wider issue of Egyptian history. Of note is
the use of the words Xsyco and Xoyos. Apparently the previous chapters were
written either from first hand observation or previous sources. Now, however,
Herodotus is moving towards what the Egyptians think of their own history, or more
importantly, what Herodotus believes, or wants his audience to believe, that the
Egyptians, and more specifically the oral record, hold to be their history. The terms
Xsyco and Xoyos tie Herodotus' sources to the oral record, in which he has
particular interest. This is not to say that Herodotus is going to completely reshape
the stories he is told in order to fulfill some nefarious project of his, conjuring his
evidence out of thin air and then attributing it to credible sources. Instead I am
claiming that he has a predetermined course, within his self determined objectivity,
which he is set upon, and that it is with this in mind that he approaches and
interrogates the priests. One must look at the questions the Herodotus is asking in
order to understand the subtle constmction that is going on.
^ Herodoms, E. 142.
44
1.100 METd BE TOOTOV KOTEXEyov oi ipEES EK popXou dXXcov
PQOIXECOV TplTlKOOlCOV TE Ka\ Tpir|KOVTa ouvonaTQ.
Ewe recall Herodotus' description of the geography of Egypt, then we will
remember the painstaking effort he goes to so as to create an actual physical location
for Egypt in the new ideological system that Herodotus is attempting to create for his
Greek audience. He did this by making such precise measurements and records that
his audience apparently has no choice but to accept the existence of such a place in
the face of overwhelming evidence. Now that Egypt is firmly fixed as a physical
entity, Herodotus can tum his attention back to a subject more integral to his
argument: time. Just as Egypt needed a legitimate physical location, now it needs
some substantiation for its antiquity. In fact, Herodotus employs the same
methodology in defining Egypt's physical geography as he uses to establish its
temporal geography: overwhelming detail.
Herodotus introduces this detail by claiming the priests had in their possession
a record of monarchs that lists three hundred and thirty different mlers of Egypt.
While not an impossible figure, since most of what are termed King Lists have
included up to three hundred and twenty-three mlers, ^ it nonetheless is an enormous
number, and has no comparison with any genealogy or list in Greece at this time.
Along with the list, the priests have a very accurate record of the specific details of
most of the mlers. Herodotus goes on to recount an extensive history of the exploits
^ Manetho. Manetho. (Cambridge, Mass: Waddell, 1940). Manetho, an Egyptian high priest, under the first two Ptolemaic mlers scribed an extensive history of Egypt, AiyuTTTiQKd, in which he recorded three hundred and thirty-three pharaohs, also originating the divisions of Old, Middle and New Kingdoms that are commonly applied to Egyptian chronology.
45
of the various monarchs, one of which is of special interest to this study, that of the
so-called pharaoh Proteus.
B.112 TouTou BE EKBE^QOOQI TTIV PaoiXriiriv IXEyov dvBpa
MEH91TTIV, Tcp KQTd TTIV 'EXXr)Vcov yXcbooav ouvona
npCOTEQ ETVQI.
The subject of Proteus opens up a new facet of Herodotus' examination. The
fact that Herodotus points out KOTd TTIV 'EXXTIVCOV yXcbooav ouvona
TTpcoTEQ ETVQI is an indicator that his account is not going to be as straightforward
as it initially appears. Herodotus does not give the Egyptian name of this pharaoh,
although undoubtedly he had access to it, if in fact we can assume that he is talking
about an actual historical personage. Proteus, as an Egyptian Sea-god (as ironic as
the existence of such a figure is given the inclination of Egyptians to pathologically
fear the sea) appears in Homer. ° In this version however he has been transformed,
whether by Herodotus or an earlier source, into an actual pharaoh. E Herodotus has
originated this theory of Proteus as a human king, it would fit well with his previous
practice (such as in the proem when he equates mythical rape scenarios to actual
historical events leading to the Persian conflicts) of rationalizing a mythological
source, turning it into a "believable" event.
The story goes as follows in Herodotus: Paris, with his abducted bride, is
forced to harbor in Egypt, and news of his crime reaches the ears of Proteus thanks to
° Homer Odvssev. IV.531 ff. ' This is either a Herodotean or Hecataean invention, but as Lloyd states,
3.112, the actual relation between a pharaoh and the sea-god Proteus may have been influenced by the Egyptian representations of Nile Gods, and by associating this with
46
a number of mnaway slaves. Proteus then orders the arrest of Paris and the seizure of
Helen and his goods until Paris justified himself Proteus then refuses to return Helen
to Paris, and despite his crime, allows Paris to flee Egypt. Hence, the Trojan War
continued on without Helen ever actually being at Troy, and she was later remmed to
Menelaus in Egypt after the war.
Despite the obvious discomfort a Greek audience might feel with this account,
i.e. the fact that this epic battle was fought without the object of desire even being
present, it is yet another example of connecting something paramount in Greek
identity, i.e. the Trojan cycle, with what Herodotus has attempted to establish as an
actual figure in Egyptian history. Herodotus displays a sense of dark humor in this
account of the Trojan War, and there seems every chance that this version would have
stmck his audience as quite frinny because of the fact that the entire war was fought
over miscommunication. The importance of the Proteus incident is Herodotus'
appropriation of this story, one that would have been familiar to his audience, for his
own purposes.^'
E.142 'Es MEV TOOOVBE TOU Xoyou AiyuTTTioi TE KQI ipEEs
IXsyov...
Compare this to the previous statement Herodotus made when he was shifting
to his description of Egyptian history (E.99, E. 100). Having spent a number of pages
describing the various exploits of the cumbersome list of Egyptian mlers, Herodotus
the thus far unspoken practice of deifying deceased pharaohs, we can see the visual evidence for this apparentiy absurd coupling.
47
has given his audience no choice but to accept his information on the temporal
geography as factual based on the sheer weight of the evidence he presents, in a
similar manner to his description of the physical geography earlier. Compare the
calculation of years by the number of generations with Herodotus' calculation of the
distance of the coastiine of Egypt. Both processes create a sense of intimacy with
such large figures which makes them more palatable to his audience.
What other purpose does this copious amount of information serve in
Herodotus' ideological agenda? It re-estabhshes the authority that the priests of
Egypt hold over history and the past. To add to their authority, they cite portents such
as the sun behaving in the opposite manner and eclipses, great events in the natural
world, also of particular importance to early philosophers in Greece, that no one
would dare use unless they were tme.
E.143 npoTEpov BE 'EKOTaicp TCO Xoyoiroicb EV ©riPrjoi
yEVETiXoyf|oavTi [TE] ECOUTOV Ka\ dvaBrjoavTi TTIV TTaTpifiv ES
E K K Q I B E K Q T O V 0 £ 6 V ETTOlTlOaV o'l IpEES ToO A l 6 s OTOV T l KQI EMo\
ou yEV£TiXoyr|oavTi EMECOUTOV.
Herodotus, when beginning this section on the physical proof of the antiquity
of the Egyptians and their preservation of knowledge, names one of his predecessors
and main sources, Hecataeus. Herodotus however makes a distinction between the
realms of Greek power and that of the Egyptians that Hecataeus never did. Herodotus
needed Egypt to have a stronger claim to antiquity, and therefore rather than
^ 9 w««
The idea of Helen being absent from Troy, or being represented only in the form of a ghost or EIBOXOV, was an old and popular idea (cf Hesiod, Stesichoms, Euripides and others listed by Lloyd, Vol 3.46-7)
48
challenging their dominance, he instead works to uphold it. In Herodotus' scheme,
Hecataeus did not recognize that Greece's idea of antiquity, i.e. what was considered
old, was of no consequence when compared to that of the Egyptians.
Greece in Herodotus' scheme needed to be relatively new on the scene, at
least the Greece that he was trying to influence. What is the point of attempting to
create a new sense of identity if the Greeks already had a far reaching history that
provided them with one? Including this encounter between Hecataeus and the
Egyptian priests only stresses the immense span of time that lies between the world of
the Greeks and the world of the Egyptians.
Hecateaus' claims are quickly put to shame by the priests, as his attempt to
constmct his genealogy back sixteen generations is faced against the three hundred
and forty-one statues that represent every generation of the families of the high kings
spanning back to the foundation of Egypt as a country. This number was mentioned
earlier by Herodotus as the number of monarchs for which the priests of Egypt had
information in written form. With the Egyptian love of tradition as attested by
Herodotus, it only stands to reason that the high priest would have some similar
system of recording.
Another aspect of this particular line of discussion in Herodotus is the
physical manifestation of the age and authenticity of the historical documentation of
the Egyptians. The fact that there are three hundred and thirty-three statues, each
representing a generation (and with anywhere from three to five generations a
century, which can equal a stretch of time ranging from about eleven thousand three
hundred sixty-six to six thousand eight hundred years) is a startiing reminder of the
49
actual scope of time one must consider when looking at the history of Egypt. Nothing
in Greece, that can be readily identified as such, had such age to it for Herodoms or
his Greek audience.
Also of importance in this passage is the statement ou BEKOMEVOI Trap*
auTou dird 0EOO yEVEoOai dv0pco7Tov. It seems that for the Egyptian, there is a
clear demarcation between the divine worid and the mortal coil. Consider the phrase
once again VOMI'COUOI B' COV Aiyurmoi ouB* fjpcooi OUBEV (E.50); it reinforces the
fact there is no intermediate position between gods and men in the Egyptian scheme.
One must wonder why Herodoms fails to mention that after the reign of the gods in
Egypt, the pharaohs are deified after their deaths. Surely he would have been able to
grasp such a basic tenet of the Egyptian religious systems? Herodotus has previously
created the impression of the overall piety of the Egyptians. This extreme piety
however leads to an ultimate inabihty for them to attain anything resembling divinity,
or more aptiy, immortality. Again we can look at the fact when the Persian army
begins its conquest of Egypt, they are praying, rather than preparing. Their adherence
to rimal disables them in the present world.
This is not to say that divinity is the ultimate goal, or even possible, in the
Greek religious system. We are not dealing with divinity as in deification, but more
aptiy defined as surpassing the expectations of the mortal world. 0£cbv BE TTOXXOV
diraXXayMSVOS (E.144) sums up the current population, and even the dominant
ideology conceming the condition of humanity in Egypt. The human experience of
Egypt is limited, perhaps by their blind adherence to custom, while the dynamic
50
personality of Greece is able to surpass all previous expectations, and even reach the
heights of semi-divinity.
E.144 T 6 BE TTpoTEpov TCOV dvBpcbv TOUTGDV OEOUS ETVQI TOUS
EV AiyuTTTcp dpxovTQs OIKEOVTQS QMa TOTOI dv0pcb7Toioi, KQ'I
TOUTCOV aiEi Eva T6V KpaTEovTo ETVQI.
This statement at first seems out of place, following Herodotus' previous
insistence on the separation between the human and the divine in Egypt. Yet here
Herodoms is speaking of the far past, not just TTpOTEpov, but a time previous to the
first human mler of Egypt, that is over eleven thousand years before. This creates a
stark contrast to the mundane mortality of hfe in Egypt contemporary with
Herodoms.
Herodoms sends a clear signal here: the Egypt of old was a land of power and
influence, with gods walking among men. The power and grandeur of Egypt lie in
the past, along with such feats as building projects (E. 122-130) and foreign conquests
(E. 104-112). The Egypt of the present is a vassal state to the Persian Empire and
lacking in tme power, save for its ties to the past. This is the difference between
Egypt and Greece. Greece, having no set past or at least one as ancient as the one the
Egyptians claim, is forced to live in the present as a dynamic force. Yet Herodotus
feels that despite this incUnation towards the present and present action, Greece needs
a past with which to associate itself, so that it may completely form an ideological
center as it is thmst into an intemational world for the first time in almost a thousand
years.
51
E.182 TQUTQ MEV dvE0TlKE 6 "AMQOIS- ETXE BE KuTTpOV TTpCOTOS
dvOpcoTTcov KQ\ KQTEOTpEvj^QTo ES 9 6 p o u d7Taycoyr|V.
Herodoms ends his exploration of not only the history of Egyptian culmre, but
also its importance as the progenitor of Greek culture and civilization with this
anticlimactic sentence which seems to be a simple aside about Amasis, the last of the
Egyptian pharaohs within the realm of Herodoms' examination. After the scope and
impact of his intense geographic, ethnographic, temporal, and, most importantiy,
ideological survey, why does Herodotus insert such a banal sentence? Often, in
reference to many of Herodoms' conclusionary methods, scholars have felt jilted, ^ as
if the build-up and power of his work are snubbed by the lack of closure or
significantiy groundbreaking statements on some sort of universal tmth.
I contend however that this statement is a perfect cap to the
AiyuTTTous Xoyos, because in its simplicity there is hidden a deeper message which
is not done justice by the sparse wording. Herodoms' goal is not to follow the formal
mles of dramatic stmcmre, or to reveal some greater universal tmth. Instead in Book
E, as a whole, he is uncovering the layers within the ideas that both the Greeks and
the Egyptians hold about themselves and each other. This ending hides the
groundbreaking statement he has already made, on ideological territory, in the
preceding chapters of Book B. To a certain extent, it sets the audience at ease, allows
them quietiy to digest the sweeping remarks and amazing reports he has made earlier,
by not alerting them to the bold scope of his intentions. The choice to include Cypms
within the last sentence is, I would suggest, completely intentional and serves a
specific purpose. Geographically and culturally speaking, Cypms has always been a
52
link between the East and the West. What better location to end his examination on
the bonds between Greece and Egypt than the first place that most likely allowed
them to come into contact with each other?
53
CHAPTER m
CONCLUSIONS
Herodotus' account in Book E has spanned thousands of years and thousands
of miles across time and space, yet his goal retums to the core of the Greek self In
the introduction the impems of Herodoms' work was discussed, but now, having
followed through Herodotus' joumey across Egypt, we may talk more specifically
about what he has set out to do and what he has actually accomplished within the
confines of Book E.
Charles Fomara addresses the issue of the unity of the Histories as a whole by
claiming that while there may be a unity to the overall stmcture, one cannot use that
fact, he claims, "as a principle which solves the problems of the composition of this
work."' He then goes on to claim that although one can justify the presence of Book
E within this so called unity, nevertheless Herodotus did not compose it with a Grand
Design in mind. The assertions that Fonara continues to make conceming that book,
i.e. the biographical approach to Herodoms as an author and traveler, while insightful,
are ultimately untenable in a more in-depth examination of the book.
E Herodotus' goal was merely an account of the cultural nuances of Egypt by
examining the environmental, religious, and economic forces at work to serve as a
record in as facmal a manner as possible to an ignorant audience, as Fomara has
claimed was Herodoms' goal, then I would have to agree with him that Herodoms
failed. Herodotus has not provided accurate information of the ethnographic and
' Fomara, 6. ^ Ibid., 15. ^ Ibid., 16.
54
geographic spheres of the Egyptian worid. What if Herodoms set out to be a
historian, has he succeeded at that? A trickier question to be sure tiian the previous,
for the namre of what a historian is is still not defined satisfactorily in our modem
era. Even in applying this term to Herodoms and his work, we are in a sense judging
him and his work by inapplicable standards. What validity do our modem standards
of history and historical research hold in reference to the groundbreaking work of
Herodoms? That leads to the questions of what historical criticism is and how much
intent clouds the narrative form of the researches. Ultimately, whatever the tme
definition of a historian, in our modem sense, it is an intelligent bet that Herodotus
also failed to accomplish this. Was he then a geographer or merely someone creating
a travelog in Book E? E we open the rest of the Histories to the same examination,
then the water becomes more clouded, but if we at first confine our attentions to Book
E, we can see that it is a microcosmic representation of the ultimate goal that
Herodoms has set out to accomplish with his work. The Histories is a text, and it must
be examined as a text, with all the attendant components associated with it. More
importantly though, it is also a culmral document, and contains encoded within it
ideological stmcmres that, as responsible scholars, we must take into account when
examining the Histories.
The impact of the Histories then lies not in some tmth or transcendent fact that
is encoded within. Martin Bemal has used Book E as a rallying point for his attack
on Westem academia in general, and Westem Classical scholarship specifically. The
discourse that Bemal has opened with his work in Black Athena, however, is more
important than the mythologically based histories or the fanciful etymologies he
55
creates. While Classics has been a relative late comer to the scene in terms of modem
critical theories, Bemal's work has brought to the forefront the point, as Edith Hall
states, that "academic discourse is as ideologically laden as political discourse,
journalism, art and literamre."^
Despite this, however, the reason that Bemal's arguments ultimately fail is his
inability not only to examine Herodoms' work as a text with the same ideologically
laden aspects that the modem scholarship he is attacking contains, but also to admit
that his own work contains them. He seems to suffer under the illusion that he is
immune from the prejudices that he attributes to those who have spent their lives and
livelihoods smdying the literary and physical remains of the Classical world. As
stated before anyone who approaches a text is going to carry his or her own
contingent sociopolitical preoccupations. It is impossible to separate oneself
completely from a given temporal, political, and social frame of reference. By
recognizing these limitations, however, while not able to eliminate them completely,
one can compensate for these biases and at least identify such forces in one's own
work.
Bemal confuses, or more aptiy fuses, two basic tenets of scx:ial anthropology:
acmal, biological relation and culmrally based assumptions about ethnicity. The first
is a biological, supposedly empirical, category that formnately is no longer of great
importance in modem scholarship. The second, based on the culmral constmcts used
to define ethnicity, is of special importance to the work of Herodoms. Most of
* Editii Hall, "When is a Myth Not a Mytii?: Bemal's Ancient Model." Black Athena Revisited. 334.
See Edith Hall, ibid. 336, for an examination of the history of these aspects of social and physical anthropology and how Bemal abuses this idea.
56
Bemal's work ironically enough reeks of the same self-serving scholarship used to
reinforce culmral ideas of white superiority over those of different complexions, a
sort of pseudo-science that attempts to create evidence to justify an already arrived-at
conclusion. It is a futile task to attempt to constmct the biological origins for the
Greek-speaking ancient worid, since the materials needed to substantiate any claim
conceming this, i.e. the actual Greeks of the ancient worid, have long since departed
the worid of the tangible. For most of Bemal's discussions, however, proof has
never been an insurmountable barrier, since he states that he is not out to create a
theory backed "solely" with facts, but he wants to make an argument that has
"competitive plausibility."^ While the basis behind this practice, i.e., the creation of
plausible scenarios to offer counter explanations for prominent and accepted theories,
is sound, this usually requires some sort of proof for the counter explanation.
The acceptance of Bemal's account lies only with the acceptance of myth and
the resultant literature involved with the examination of myth as transcendent tmth.
Bemal's approach ignores the inner workings of ideology that drive myth and, more
importantly for the scope of this study, with the advent of Herodotus' work, history.
This is the tme crime of Bemal's scholarship. It is not that he has debunked or
^ One of Bemal's favorite tactics is that of analogy, i.e. taking two relatively disparate customs and by associating surface relationships reinforces a theory that necessitated the creation of the analogy. An example can be found in the anatomical sciences in the 18^ and 19* century that claimed that intelligence defines the superior, and since obviously the white European was superior to the Black African, the cranial volume of the white European would be greater, and then results were manufactured to substantiate this claim. Compare this to Bemal's assertion that mythological cycles hold "precious kemels of historical tmth", and since Greece must certainly have spmng from the cultures of the Levant and Egypt, he then goes on to pick and choose passages to support his claim while ignoring other passages that contradict him openly.
^ Bemal, 1.8.
57
unseated any preconceived notions of the origins of Greek culture. Classicists,
historians, and archaeologists have long recognized the debt that Greece owed not
just to Egypt, but to a wider system of Mediterranean trade and contact that involved
numerous cultures. The main boon of his so-called scholarship has been the opening
of a new discourse of why we think what we do about history, and what this means to
our approaches to said material. Unfortunately, his actual work denies this
introspection, and instead makes a large reversion back to an ultimately uncritical
arena that neglects the contributions of other areas of scholarship, and instead of
creating a new multicultural methodology, blindly supports assumed dogma that
accepts myth as "tmth."
Bemal associates the ideologically-driven ideas of subjective ethnicity with
actual physical relationships. He makes no distinction between actuality and belief
He fails to understand the inherent difference between what the actual origins of
Greek culture were, and what the Greeks thought their origins were. In fact, he
continually uses the ideological techniques that Herodotus propounded as proof of an
acmal relationship, using material already weighted with predetermined assumptions,
i.e., the Histories as a text, to reinforce his self determined objective report, i.e., that
Greek culture was a direct descendant of Egyptian culture.
Bemal cannot see the ultimate goal of Herodotus' work in Book E because he
is too preoccupied with using it for his own agenda, not seeing the forest for the trees.
His attention to certain details seems to be derived from a scholarly examination of
the text. However, many of his assertions are inmitively based and he even goes on
58
to formulate motives for passages in Herodotus based solely on what he feels the
author, as a person, would have written.
Bemal's work is ultimately as subjective as Herodoms' is, that is to say Bemal
picks and chooses with even more impudence than Herodotus from the material
available to him to prove a point. There are a number of facts, given the familiarity
Herodoms exhibits with Egyptian culture, that we can assume Herodotus knew about
but purposefully left out. Bemal performs the same selective rendering of his
predecessors. Bemal ignores the emergent Pre-Socratic thought in Herodotus'
examination that points to the ulterior nature of Herodoms' examination. References
to such terms as EXEUOEPIQ raise red flags that Herodoms is dealing not with a
paradigm based on the reporting of material based only on information obtained from
Egyptian sources, but within the stmcture of a 5* century Greek mindset examining
the world around him. Again, Bemal recognizes no such thing as a text, but instead
he credits the Histories as having only its stated purpose, with no underlying
stmcmres or agenda.
In the end, one must examine Bemal's work for what it is: a masterpiece of
cultural rhetoric based only loosely on evidence. On this count. Classics owes him a
great debt of gratitude, for he has thmst the discipline into the light of self
examination and critical re-evaluation that will only strengthen the type of
scholarship done, open avenues for new approaches to the material, and discard that
material based on unstable academic and scholarly grounds. Unfortunately, Bemal's
examination does not answer many questions about Book E. Instead of opening up a
59
new approach to the way Book E is read, Bemal has instead employed in his own
ideological battie.
In fomung the question of origins into the stmcture of a narrative concemed
primarily with events of the past, Herodotus has opened up a new, at least in extant
literature, discourse of historical narrative. This can be said with certainty for a
number of reasons. The period in which Herodotus is writing, following the re-
introduction of Greece into the intemational worid after five hundred years of "dark
ages" provides him with a new arena in which to stage his ideological examination of
Greek identity . The material he is dealing with, the origins of a culture's religious,
social, and cultural practices, is always going to carry with it a number of difficulties,
since they are so close to the way a culture thinks about itself and conceives its own
self image.
The fact that Herodotus has chosen narrative is of great importance to the
scope of his work. He could have very easily followed his contemporaries in the
natural sciences and written treatises that were more records of observations rather
than arguments for or against theories. Herodotus has created a new narrative
stmcture in Book E, whether conscious or unconscious, that must be at the very least
acknowledged, even if not fully examined, in order to do justice in any reading of the
text.
The challenge then lies in decoding the forces at work within the text. Within
this examination I have continually attempted to bring the tools of the modem critical
idiom to the forefront in order to show how this may be done. This is not to say in
60
any way that we are able, or ever will be able to decode all of the forces at work with
Herodotus, or even in any work for that matter. These forces are always changing, or
better yet, the way we are able to view and consume our investigations of these forces
is continually changing.
The findings in this particular approach to Book E have illuminated the
following the points that have not always been as preeminent as they need to be in
Herodotean scholarship in general and in dealing with Book E in particular.
Herodotus did indeed have preset agenda as he approached this work. Prominent, but
not necessarily the only, is the creation of a new ideological origin for 5* century
Greek culture based firmly in Egypt but using processes associated with the
intellectual environment of Greece, in order to reinforce his claims. As stated before,
the political climate of Greece and its involvement in the intemational conflict
surrounding the expansion of the Persian Empire, besides being the impetus for
Herodotus' work in general, demanded a new interpretation of not only the Greek
idea of self, but also the ability to place that self within a larger world context.
The Histories then, as stated before, is much more than a recount. Herodotus
has developed a methodology of defining culture and origins that continues into our
modem views of history and origins. Every time we name the Greco-Roman worid
as the progenitor of Westem civilization, we are partaking of the same ideological
feast that Herodotus fed his audience in Book E. The revelation of this fact in no way
diminishes the scope or importance of Herodoms, and I would claim, actually
reinforces the need for a more in-depth look at his work. Ultimately any examination
o
In using the term "dark ages", I am referring to the period following the fall of the Mycenaean civilization and preceding the Archaic period in Ancient Greece, as
61
of the Classical worid and its literamre, in fact any other culture separated in time and
space from our own, is an attempt to discover more about ourselves. This is not to
say that such scholarship is a vicious sohpsistic circle, but instead that as we seek to
discover tiie secrets of other cultures, we reveal more about ourselves, in what we
look for, what questions we ask, and how we interpret the answers we find. This was
exactiy the process Herodoms was involved in, asking the same questions of the
Egyptian priests as we ask of his text. In this manner we share die same difficulties,
biases, and triumphs that Herodoms experienced, and by looking at the voyage of
exploration that he undertook, we might begin to understand the reasons why we look
to the past in order to discover ourselves.
Therefore, in order to understand more of the framework in which Herodotus
was working, having examined Book E in-depth in order to uncover hitherto hidden
stmcmres of self definition and identity, these findings and new understandings of
Book B must be applied to the stmcture as the Histories as a whole. In the first four
books of the Histories, Herodoms provides his audience with the "historical" and
more importantly ideological basis for a conflict that is going to change the face of
the world. With this basis so established, Herodoms then moves on to trace the action
of the conflict through the major events, or events that served to further his narrative,
yet within this progression he continually refers back to his previous work, and
repeatedly provides anecdotal information conceming the areas or peoples involved
in these events. In fact, the ending of his masterpiece has nothing to do with the final
stmggles of the Greeks against the army of Xerxes or the freeing of the Ionian states,
and instead refers to what seems a rather simple event.
it is characterized by the art that remains. 62
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Diop, Cheikh Anta. Civilization or Barbarism: An Authentic Anthropology.
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von Fritz, Kurt. Die Griechische Geschichtsschreibung. Berlin: de Gmyter, 1967.
Gardiner, Alan. Egyptian Grammar. Third Edition. Oxford: University Printing
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(jrardiner, E. Norman. Olympia. Its History and Remains. Oxford: Oxford Press,
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Hall, Edith. "When is a Myth Not a Myth?: Bemal's Ancient Model". Mary
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65
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