And yet we persist

In 23 May 1618, in the European city of Prague, a group of Christian Protestants literally threw out the window two representatives of a Catholic prince. This act of defenestration, which could have been no more than a local uprising, triggered a thirty years war in Europe, eventually involving most of its great powers – Spain, France, Denmark, Sweden, England – plus a myriad of States that made up the German empire of the time, which was also the central battleground.

Don’t worry, I’m not going to talk about Christianity. Nor is the purpose of this text to analyze the why, how and when of European wars in the seventeenth century. But History has lessons for us and I often find a degree of comfort in looking at things from a long-term perspective. Not just regarding the future, but also the past and the present it brought us. To realize the slow machinations of History that take place above the immediate moments of panic or joy, the snail-like rippling on the ponds of time. And when you do that, there’s a serenity and confidence that pierces through the daily storm, no matter how much it feels like it’s about to swallow us.

This text is about Daesh. I was going to write on something else, but then things in Palmyra took a turn for the worst and Galina wrote about it here at Polytheist.com. While I agree with some of what she says and wholeheartedly support her call for polytheists to honour the gods of Syria and Iraq, regardless of the traditions each of us follows, I disagree on other points and decided to give my own perspective. So this is about Daesh and our reaction to it. It’s about the importance of not playing the game on their terms and keeping our heads cool. And it’s about hope. Take a deep breath and pour a little something for Lady Spes.

Know your enemy

The first thing you need to keep in mind is that Daesh is not your average Islamic gang on steroids. It’s on a dosage of something you’d give to horses, yes, but its goal is not merely to wage war on the West. Rather, it aims at immediately carving out a state from existing Arab ones. Which means that it needs functioning institutions, resources to keep them going, a population with reproductive capacity and a standing army capable of holding territory. They’re not playing hide and seek – they’re out in the open and very vocal about it.

This makes them look far more threatening, but in reality that’s an illusion produced by a skilful use of media. And the reason for that is that, because they want to build a viable state, they need to invest their resources into it instead of financing attacks on Western countries. That’s why lone wolves are all we’ve seen so far: it’s cheaper for Daesh to let people do things on their own initiative, using their own money. They may inspire or give a nudge, but weapons and manpower are best used to defend territory. Because they need territory: you cannot be a caliph without it and if you’re not a caliph, then you lose the right to call yourself leader of all Muslims. So why waste resources on blowing up buildings in London or New York? Why lose men on suicidal attacks in the West when Daesh needs them to hold its ground in Syria and Iraq?

This doesn’t mean they can’t pull a desperate stunt or go on an occasional shooting spree to keep a sense of fear going. But even the possibility of a dirty bomb going off in a Western city, while not impossible, is nonetheless made less likely by the need to build a proper state. Which is why, according to reports that came out last month, Daesh has used mustard gas not on Europe or America, but against the Kurds in Iraq. They need it to hold their ground.

So despite their constant boasting, publicity stunts and public frenzy, they’re not going to move on the West anytime soon. In a way, it’s like an echo: Daesh does something terrible, the media – ours and theirs – amplifies things and it sounds like there’s a huge monster at the end of the tunnel. In reality, it’s a mad pig whose magnified noises make it sound bigger than it really is. They may claim they’re going to conquer Turkey or India and half the world along the way, but that’s little more than wishful thinking. If anything, they’re currently being driven from the Turkish border by Kurds, Turks and Syrians with Western air support. And even if they do try to advance northwards, because they need the supply route to their “capital” in Raqqa, that means they’ll be pouring resources into a campaign that’s next door to a NATO member state. And by this I mean Daesh’s men will be easier to spot and strike, because they’ll be in sight of stationed allied troops. The battle for Kobane proved that.

Furthermore, keep in mind that this is also a religious war. Not between monotheists and polytheists – let’s face it, there’s not that many of us in the region – but between different factions of Islam. By proclaiming itself a caliphate, Daesh has declared that all other Arab States are null and void and would only gain legitimacy if it held Mecca and Medina instead of expanding north or west. And as Sunni radicals, they have a much greater and closer target in Shia Muslims and Iran. Which is why it’s important to bring Tehran back into the international fold and keep Saudi Arabia stable, regardless of how uncomfortable our relations with Riyadh are. Because the only places where Daesh has conquered any territory are failed or failing states. Iraq, Syria, Libya, Nigeria – countries where central authority is either weak or has collapsed altogether, allowing gangs and militias to fill in the power vacuum. Do you really want to consider the prospect of Daesh gaining legitimacy in the Muslim world by ruling Mecca and Medina because Saudi Arabia became a failed state?

Let’s talk like it’s 1618

In a way, the Middle East is going through its equivalent of Europe’s Thirty Years War. It started as an uprising and morphed into an escalating conflict along religious lines, expanding to several states, fracturing some and feeding on intolerance between opposing theological views. We’ve seen this before. Only instead of pitting Catholics against Protestants, with different countries championing one side or the other, it’s a struggle between Sunni and Shia Muslims.

Just as French Protestants rose in rebellion against increasing intolerance from Catholics, so did Sunnis in Iraq in the face of a sectarian Shia government. Just as Sweden invaded the Holy Roman Empire in support of German Protestants, Saudi Arabia has been intervening in Yemen to aid Sunni factions. Just as the Thirty Years War unleashed fresh waves of brutality and witch hunts, so too the Middle East is beset by renewed horrors and intolerance. And just as Christian Hungarians and Czechs allied themselves with Muslim Ottomans, or French Catholics supported German Protestants, because it served their survival, common or self-interests despite religious differences, so too modern countries find themselves in unlikely positions. Like the US cooperating with Iran or Sunni gulf countries bombing the equally Sunni Daesh. This is not to say that the two conflicts are the exact same thing. There’s a repeating quality to History, yes, yet the devil is in the details and today’s are not those of the seventeenth century. But having said that, there are signs that what followed in Europe after the Westphalia Peace of 1648 may slowly unfold in the Middle East.

The Thirty Years War was the last great chapter in the religious conflicts born out of Luther’s breach with Rome in 1520 and the subsequent end of western Christian unity. The war wasn’t immediately followed by general religious tolerance, because History is a slow-motion process and not a series of instantaneous bursts where things are born fully grown, like Athena out of Zeus’ head. But it was a stepping stone. It basically took over a century of intense bloodshed and horrors for European elites to seriously consider mechanisms of religious coexistence. And then it took yet another century or two to get there. John Locke’s Letters Concerning Toleration are a good sign of that process. We Westerners are not more tolerant and inclusive because we’re somehow born that way. And yes, despite our many flaws, we are more tolerant and inclusive than, say, Saudi Arabia, Iran or Jordan. Try being an openly gay polytheist in those countries. But that is so because we went through historical experiences that shaped our ways and views, experiences that the Middle East did not have. They didn’t go through the Thirty Years War, the Enlightenment, the American and French revolutions. Nor did Islam have its Vatican II. As Richard Haass once said on CNN’s GPS with Fareed Zakaria, the Middle East missed much of modernity. But that may be changing, because the horrors unleashed by Daesh, coupled with the Arab Spring, are confronting many in the Muslim world with the shortcomings of their own status quo. Iraqis and Syrians are openly satirizing the so-called “Islamic State”, earlier this year one of Egypt’s top clerics called for a reform of religious teaching and people are debating what it means to be a Muslim in the modern world.

It’s not a revolution, but it doesn’t have to be one. We may want things now, ASAP, and call for immediate change, but History doesn’t work that way, even when there are revolutions. It’s a series of slow and often overlapping processes that can last for generations: there was still plenty of religious intolerance in Europe after the Thirty Years War, it took almost a century for France to move from the revolutionary chaos of 1789 to a lasting and democratic republic, the US needed an identical amount of time and a civil war to abolish slavery. And don’t chastise yourselves for it, my American readers. A federation like the United States is a lot harder to manage than a small European nation-state, many of which, by the way, only fully abolished slavery in the nineteenth century as well. The truth is, change takes time to operate. It may seem a lot faster when we flip the pages of a History book, but in everyday life it can be excruciatingly slow. And yet it moves. Change happens. We may not see it in our lifetime, but it happens. Our task is to work patiently towards a goal, to seed the fields even if we do not reap the harvest. Do not try to get everything done now. Instead, be patient and take a long-term view of things. Which is also true for Daesh’s demise.

Don’t rush!

As much as we would like to go in and fight, to defend Palmyra with our own hands or have boots on the ground, that would likely do more harm than good. See, one of the things about Islamic extremism – and Daesh in particular – is that it’s not just militant and militarized: it’s also romantic! To many, it is a modern version of the adventures of a knight in shining armour or the Muslim equivalent of Europe’s medieval crusader. And as any good romanticism, it harkens back to an idealized past of purer and nobler ways. That’s why thousands have flocked to Syria and Iraq, including Europeans and Americans: they’re drawn by the prospect of adventure and a life-fulfilling cause. Which is an appeal that is expressed in Daesh’s medieval views and worked to perfection in its propaganda videos. And if you don’t have much of a life to being with, no long-term goals or steady job, the idea of physically fighting for something greater than yourself, no matter how twisted, can be enticing. Especially when, apart from the ideological side, you also get one wife or more, plus a wage. Yes, Daesh pays its men. Like I said, they’re trying to build a proper state.

So imagine what it would be like if the US and its European allies were to go into eastern Syria and northern Iraq. Like a new invasion of the latter, which worked out so well (not!). Or if hundreds or thousands of Americans and Europeans started going on their own to fight against Islamic extremists. How do you reckon Daesh would spin that? If you’re thinking “new crusaders”, you’re right! They would pour renewed calls for holy war all over the media, working the memory of the Christian crusades – which is still very much alive in the Middle East – to boost its propaganda and draw thousands more to their cause. Even more so if the western fighters were open polytheists. Then you’d really be giving Daesh a fight it would cherish, because it would be just like in the days of Mohammed and they could claim to be the prophet’s defenders. There’s something of a re-enactor’s pleasure in it.

I know humans have a tendency to strike back when someone strikes us. It’s a natural response to aggression and the harder we hit, the better we feel. And when we see the images of statues and temples being hacked or blown, people being tortured or horribly murdered, children being raped or brainwashed, we want to strike back. Hard! Preferably yesterday! But Daesh is an ideological movement with a propaganda machine. Like Fox News, it feeds on human emotions – fear, anger, hate – and you’re not going to beat it by playing its game. You need to deprive it of oxygen, not throw truckloads of it into the fire. Which means that instead of trying to be a pagan viking, legionnaire or warrior that goes off to fight monotheistic radicals, we need to think like a cold strategist.

In practical terms, this means that those fighting Daesh on the ground should be Muslims, preferably Sunnis. Because that way, they won’t be able to spin it as a new Christian crusade, a horde of infidels or a pagan onslaught against Mohammed. It will be the people they’re suppose to stand for that will be fighting them, which amounts to sucking out the oxygen. Western powers can help – e.g. airstrikes and arming the Kurds – but the bulk of the effort must be made by Middle Easterners themselves, both militarily and politically. Because there is a political side to this conflict, rooted in a daily intolerance of minorities and differences, just as it was the case in Europe’s religious wars. And yes, it will take time, as there’s no quick solution. But for crying out loud, it took six years to defeat Nazi Germany and that was an all-out-war on European soil! Don’t expect it to be any faster with Daesh, given the need for a less direct approach and the fact that we’re talking about a region with a different historical experience, hesitant leaders, weak states and dominated by a religion with huge unsolved problems of its own. A lot of things we take for granted in the west are still very much in its infancy in the Middle East.

What to do

This doesn’t mean we should stay put and wait. Like I said, we need to patiently seed the soil, even if we don’t get to reap the harvest. And there are things we can do. For the Gods, our polytheistic communities and the overall sake of Humanity.

We can start by not voting for people who think the solution is an all-out assault on the territory controlled by Daesh. One would think that the invasion of Iraq had served as a lesson on what not to do and of how a Western-style democracy cannot be simply imported into a country that lacks a Western historical experience. Change takes time.

If you work in the fields of archaeology and antiques, remain vigilant. Keep an eye out for stolen artifacts being illegally sold and report it to the authorities. And if you’re in the position to safely and legally help getting historical pieces out of war-zones in Syria and Iraq, go for it!

You can help refugees, which can be done in a myriad of ways without having to set foot in the Middle East – which, as we all know, may turn out to be a bad idea. You can take part in a campaign to collect money, food and clothes, donate those things yourself (or both!) or volunteer to work in a shelter. If you fulfill the requirements, you can even adopt or host one or more refugees, which is what several families in Europe are doing as we speak. Also, write to your political representatives if you think your country’s asylum policy should be improved – as thousands of Icelanders have done.

And because every human action has a religious counterpart, you can also adopt a Middle Eastern deity. By this I mean bringing one or more god/desses of Syria, Iraq and Arabia into your religious life, housing them and honoring them as guests, just as one would house human refugees. On a similar note, one can organize group or open ceremonies to Middle Eastern deities. And go public about your polytheistic identity. Be vocal about it. If people are focused on monotheistic extremists who turn their faith in one god into a religious dictatorship, remind those around you of the virtues of non-dogmatic polytheism. Of how it embraces diversity and tolerance, something of which you yourself should stand as an example. And for every sacred stone that’s hacked, let there be a hundred prayers and offerings; for every temple blown up, let there be twice as many made of words and gestures. Until the day comes when the Gods will once again be welcomed in their own land. Even if we do not live to see that day.

And relax

Seriously! Take a deep breath. It’s not that Daesh is harmless. It clearly isn’t and is obviously a threat to modern civilization. Nor should its crimes go unpunished, but be duly recorded and in time presented in a Nuremberg-style tribunal. And yes, the destruction of Palmyra is an act of religious intolerance and a crime against our common heritage. But however shocking and infuriating, you’re not going to turn back the clock or solve the problem with a heated response. Attempting to defeat crusading fanatics with a counter-crusade that can embolden them is like trying to put down a fire by throwing more firewood into it. Rather, you need to deprive them of the stream of emotions that gets them going, which can only be achieved if we keep our heads cool in the face of Daesh’s constant boasting and threats. So we can see them for what they are: an echo, a social media-fed beast that projects the image of an unstoppable monster. It’s not that the animal at the end of the tunnel is harmless – it clearly isn’t! – but it is less dangerous than what it likes to portray itself as. So take a deep breath. Pierce through the propaganda screen, rise above the immediate emotions, the daily storm, and gaze at the blue horizon.

Persevere and patiently seed the soil. Palmyra’s temples may be destroyed, but new ones can be erected if the beliefs and practices they once housed persist and grow. Be vigilant, but know your enemy. Put it in perspective so you won’t be controlled by it. Resist the urge to strike back harder and instead act with as much serenity and clear-thinking as possible. Look at things from the vantage point of History and be hopeful, be optimistic. The world yet moves and change operates, even if the clouds are dark, even if the night is long. Remember that line from the movie Gandhi and persist with confidence, devotion, optimism:

There may be tyrants and murderers and, for a time, they may seem invincible. But in the end, they always fail. Think of it: always!

Sironâ

Segomâros Widugeni in Nemeton Segomâros

1. Meaning of Name: There are two main schools of thought. Green argues that the name is “etymologically related to ‘star’”. In this she is supported by Mackillop, who translates the name as “divine star”. Olmsted, on the other hand, argues for the meaning “the heifer”.¹
4. Interpretatio Romana: Diana in at least one inscription. Eoghain mac Cuaig, an internet scholar, notes a resemblance of her iconography to that of Hygeia. Olmsted and Green both note that she is in a divine couple with the Celtic Apollo, usually by the name Grannus, or Apollo Grannus.²
5. Irish Equivalent: Boann.³
6. Indo-European Equivalent: Gwouwinda, the Indo-European Cattle and Motherhood Goddess.⁴
7. Realm: Mostly Andernadâ, Underworld Goddess, as the moon, she is Ueronadâ in that aspect.
8. Iconography: Olmsted describes her iconography as cow or cattle, serpent, and patera. Green describes it slightly differently: diadem, eggs, serpent, and springs. Some authorities also mention a star symbol in one inscription.⁵
9. Significance: Sironâ is the Goddess of the night sky, wells, serpents, and healing. If we can reason from her identification with Diana and from Daragh Smyth’s association of the Irish Boann with the moon, then she is also the Moon Goddess, with associations with time, tides, and the calendar.⁶

Dionysian Artists

The Dionysian Artist in The Dionysian Artist

This week the Dionysian Artists was launched across three social networking platforms, WordPress, Tumblr and Facebook with each going through development stage. The idea is a loose polytheist art guild or movement where artists can show their work, discuss, learn and criticise. Anyone can join and the criteria for art is open. There is one rule: the art shared must be devotional.

In many polytheist paths the deities worshiped encourage creative expression as a form of devotion. It’s not surprising that there are incredibly talented polytheist artists out there, from painters to poets. The Dionysian Artists is a group where these artists can come together to show their work, advertise work for sale, seek commissions and seek advice in a likeminded creative community. For the admirers it is a place to view our gods, to seek artists for work and to simply admire.

As mentioned the Dionysian Artists can be found on three platforms, each with a differing purpose but interconnected with one another.

WordPress site: the official website of the Dionysian Artists, here we will showcase artwork and submissions.

Facebook group: A closed group open to all, the group is closed to maintain members privacy. The Facebook group is a place where members can discuss topics on a casual level.

Tumblr: an open submission blog, a more casual version of the WordPress website.

Want to help?

I would love this to be a self-sustaining community and that my role as host for the Artists is limited. We are looking for volunteers to do basic admin jobs on each platform. Also in the coming weeks we will be seeking submissions from artists. If you’re interested contact me: markus.gage85@gmail.com

Also I am looking for feedback, advice, criticism and support. We’re starting small and basic – if this kicks off it might become a major polytheist website.

Who is the host of the Dionysian Artists?

Markos Gage. I’ve been around polytheist groups for over fifteen years, a Dionysian Hellenic Polytheist. I’m a professional artist with a background in art history and material studies. I’m a trained sculptor, mould maker, painter, digital artist and pastelist.

Attitude

It would be wonderful if this community is laid back and relaxed, I have deliberately left definitions, by-laws and rules out of this group to enable the upmost potential for creative expression. The Dionysian Artists are hosts to devotion, not a place to cause controversies, debates and childish squabbles. I’d love it that my role as host is limited, but if it comes to it any trolling behaviour will result in removal from the Artists.

Below is the starting Charter for the Dionysian Artists

Name

The name for the art movement is derived from the classical guild of artists called the Dionysiakoi Technitai (Artists of Dionysos). This guild was dedicated to Dionysos through the theatre and performance but the members were not exclusive worshipers of Dionysos. Some titles indicate that poets were dedicated to other gods under the auspices of Dionysos. A member seeking to join this art movement does not need to be dedicated to Dionysos to join, they are not even required to follow any Hellenic path as long as they consider themselves polytheist and producing artwork for the gods they may join.

Vision

Imagine a group of people with one specific goal: impressing our gods. It is a noble ambition. Your audience is divine thus, ideally, your art will be the absolute best.
So let’s provide a space where artists can come together to express themselves for their gods and also seek further help from others.

That is my vision.

Always Remember your Audience

A good chunk of western philosophy is based on what is beauty. What sets the standard of aesthetics? Thus far the answer has never been found as aesthetics is a human invention. So what if our audience is not human? What if it’s god itself? If we free ourselves of human impressing then the scope of our creative potential is limitless, liberated.
Comprehending your audience, the Divine, is key to the Artists of Dionysos.

What is Art?

Since the establishment of modern art, artists have striven to define what is art. The Modernist ideology generally considers that anything can be art as long as there is an artist to define it as art.

That is something I want to foster in this community. It does not matter what you do as long as it’s the best form of expression to the Gods.
Art submitted can be anything from photos, drawings, performance, dance, written word, poetry, music. Any form of expression.

So any art will do?

As pointed out above the definition of what is art is up to the artist. But the art here has to meet one criteria: it has to be considered devotional. In truth it is owned by the gods. That does not strip the artist of the rights of their work, they are free to do with it what they will, but the purpose of creation or designation is devotional. That is the only rule for this art movement.

An example of what I mean by this is: In ancient Greece the theatre was a sacred domain. Actors would express their work to an audience, but in doing so they would ‘give themselves’ to the gods. They suspend their own identities to take on the role they are acting. The performance is holy in itself and although it does exist in the eyes of the gods the audience brings the act into existence by appreciating it. By buying, watching and appreciating the audience allows art to continue to be made. This interchange between artist and admirer is the epitome of the ancient concept of Charis.

What is not acceptable?

Common sense should be used as judgement, anything that is illegal is not allowed. Anything that is contrary to the movements goals is forbidden. This includes material created with the intent to offend. The work provided must be dedicated to a deity. Must have some religious context.

What is religious context?

We will not judge anyone’s work based on their religion.

Any God? Any religion?

This has been designed with the intent of providing the polytheist / pagan community with its own space to share their work. But we acknowledge that some polytheistic paths intersect with monotheistic faiths. We will not forbid any religion.

It’s Syncretistic Already!

P. Sufenas Virius Lupus in Speaking of Syncretism

A great deal of interesting experiential reflection and theological speculation has occurred (in documented internet forms!) since Many Gods West. One such set of reflections is that of Viducus Brigantici Filius in response to the keynote of Morpheus Ravenna and the presentation on local cultus by The Anomalous Thracian/Theanos Thrax. There is a great deal in that post—as well as in Morpheus and Thrax’s presentations—which could merit further comment and discussion in light of this particular column’s focus (including how syncretism can involve Deities coming together with both local land spirits and archetypes). But, at present I wish to focus on something that I was reminded of in thinking of all of these matters together, rather than something which was directly addressed by any of them.

To put it briefly, though in lengthier terms than the present post’s title, the matter at hand is that any Deity is already syncretistic before a given religious culture or pantheon comes into contact with another religious culture or pantheon. There is a process of syncretism that has occurred long before a Deity’s name first appears on an inscription or in print anywhere. While I discussed this phenomenon briefly under the category of intra-pantheonic syncretism last year, perhaps the point needs to be made again, with further elaborations.

It is not as if any and every pantheon that has ever existed in historically attested forms of polytheism has been hermetically sealed (so to speak!) from the start, and then a base process of contamination by foreign influences later infiltrates and dilutes that pantheon’s cultural purity with syncretism as time goes on, despite the ways in which this is exactly how some scholars of the past century and more have portrayed events on many occasions. Lying behind the emergence of any culture into the historical record are any number of influences from earlier cultures and periods of development, which includes an ongoing process of both adoptions and adaptations of external forces—including conceptions of Deities—from other cultures, as well as further evolutions of understanding that stem from a given culture’s interactions with a Deity over time. An early Mars in Latin cultures will be different than a later one; Hesiod’s Hekate will be different than Diodorus of Sicily’s Hekate, and each of these will be different again from the Hecate of Ovid’s Metamorphoses. We should not be in the least surprised by these examples where the contexts of different historical periods are obvious, and yet the prehistory of these Deities in terms of their appearances is also a factor. Aphrodite is most likely a Near Eastern Goddess in origin, and long before She was the foam-formed daughter born of Ouranos’ severed genitals in Hesiod, or the child of Zeus and Dione in Homer, Her Cypriot cultus had probably been an insular instance of a cultus to Astarte.

This is one example amongst many, however: Zeus, or Artemis, or Apollon, or any of the major Greek Deities was (and is) an amalgam of a variety of individual local cultus to these Deities whose local character is often still preserved in long-standing descriptive or toponymic epithets. In these ways, local place-specific cultus, translational syncretism of other Deities from other cultures, and even syncretism of archetypes to Deities that may give epithets descriptive of functions, roles in myths, or divine attributes can all lie behind a Deity’s character as known in myth and cultus long before they appear in the literary or archaeological record.

This is more often than not the norm rather than the exception for any Deity one might consider. Especially if a Deity is from an Indo-European cultural provenance, there is at least one layer (if not two, three, or more!) between a given culture’s instantiation of the Deity and the proto-forms of the Deity in earlier cultures or cultural periods.

Perhaps more background needs to be given first on the idea of archetypes and Deities syncretizing with one another. Here, I depart from Morpheus Ravenna’s characterization of this matter in her keynote at Many Gods West. (I do very much agree, however, with Morpheus’ suggestion that the 20th century literary and psychological theoreticians got it backwards in thinking that individual and “local forms” of Deities descended from common universalized archetypes.) As I have written on two occasions in the past, I don’t think of archetypes as being the mere screens through which the pure light of Deities takes form, I think of them as very basic, somewhat boring, abstract and nebulous divine beings in-and-of-themselves. They can be as specific as “smith deity” or as unspecified as “Goddess.”

It is clear that a number of humans can and have interacted with these archetypes in manners that suggest they are not “higher” forms of individual Deities where various “lower” cultural expressions of them “merge,” but instead they are simply another variety of divine being that has a few basic characteristics, but little story or personality. It is with these archetypes, I think, that individual and distinct Deities syncretize when they take on strongly archetypal roles, in a manner similar to how an individual human’s history and peculiarities of personality often yield before the part they play in a given situation based on their occupation (“nurse,” “construction worker,” “fighter pilot,” “office manager,” etc.) or relationship role (“mother,” “boyfriend,” “friendly neighbor,” “work rival”) in one’s own perceptions and interactions with them. It isn’t that Hermes is a Greek cultural expression of the “Trickster” archetype, or even that Hermes has as part of his character certain aspects of the “Trickster” archetype, but instead that in some people’s interactions with him, in some mythic accounts of him, and various other possibilities, Hermes has syncretized with “Trickster.” There are some people who deal with Hermes in ways that have nothing to do with “Trickster” (and he is no less Hermes for lacking that!), and likewise there are those who deal with “Trickster” exclusively that have never come into contact with Hermes, or Loki, or Coyote, or any other Deity who is said to partake of the “Trickster” archetype. Similarly, there are some people who will never know or understand me outside of my role in a particular family, or outside of my role as a metagender person, or who will not think of me as anything other than a college history professor, or as a patient at their medical practice, and so forth; all of those roles are parts of me, as equally as important in each of those situations as any of the others are for the exact nature of the interactions involved in those various contexts.

So, attributes and roles derived from archetypes can be involved in the already-syncretistic situation of any Deity. Time can also be involved in this already-syncretistic situation for any Deity, as well as space and place, both in the forms of local cultus and syncretism with individual land spirits or features. Indeed, we can almost think of local cultus not so much as strictly the syncretism of a Deity with spirits (and possibly also ancestors) of land and place, but instead as “what a Deity is like and does in a given place.” The version of myself that one might encounter in front of a college classroom is different from the one found in a hotel hot tub, the local supermarket, or sightseeing in another country. With Deities, perhaps a local cultus that is oracular in nature is simply where that Deity has inspired insights and has given prophetic utterances, whereas somewhere else that same Deity might have practiced or perfected the healing arts, and so forth. One is not likely to find a dentist doing fillings on their favorite golf course, and thus a similar situation applies with the localized cults of Deities.

I’ve occasionally said that “Syncretism Happens,” in the effort of conveying that when it does, it’s not a bad thing or anything to be alarmed about. For all that they are individual beings, Deities, it seems, have semi-permeable membranes enclosing them, and while simply standing next to another Deity from their own pantheon, or those from other pantheons—much less land spirits, archetypes, ancestors, zeitgeists, deified abstractions, or any other category of divine being—does not mean that a merging will occur, nonetheless it can and will be a possibility in many cases, some of which may become significant enough to suggest ongoing cultus or mythic documentation. But, this slogan for syncretism is not merely one that applies to potential futures, or intriguing presents (for those experiencing syncretism in their real time interactions with various divine beings), but it in fact has happened in the past so often and so frequently, that even in the prehistory of any given Deity, it has already happened potentially countless times. Even if one encounters a human at the very moment of that human’s birth, a process of genetic syncretism has already occurred for many months prior to that moment of emergence; and at every point later in life than that for humans, we are constant processes of assimilation of the influences and results of every interaction with our environment and every relationship we’ve ever had. We, as humans, are constant processes of becoming and adapting and changing and evolving—sometimes for the better, sometimes for the worse, but nonetheless we are always dynamic rather than static, no matter how much a given individual may appear to be stable and identifiably themselves at any given moment. How much more so is this the case with Deities, whose capacities are so exponentially beyond what is possible for mortal humans in our perfect contextual limitations?

The Passion of the Kore

Edward P. Butler in Noēseis

Gods frequently thwart one another’s will in Hellenic theology, and in some cases even suffer violence from one another, perhaps most significantly near the very beginning of the theogony, when Ouranos is castrated. But no such incident in the Hellenic theology is perhaps of quite so much significance for the sort of beings that we are as that suffered by Persephone, except perhaps the dismemberment of Dionysos at the hands of the Titans, which is, of course, far from unrelated.

I speak in the title of a passion in the sense of an experience in which the subject is rendered passive. Passion presents a problem for us in thinking about the Gods, if we wish to free a space in our understanding for the infinite agency of each God, the position of ‘radical’ or polycentric polytheism. One may hold to a particular theology in which the Gods are absolutely limited by fixed relations that are prior to them, or by some force superior to divinity itself, but my effort is to explore the possibilities of a polytheism without such constraint.

As such, a God wills even the abrogation of Her will. But the sense of this willing cannot be to undo the reality of the abrogation, because the very intention of the divine will in this case is to suffer breach. Every act of the Gods, who are beyond Being, opens a space of being, a way to be. What does Persephone’s passion open? If Persephone’s work, as has long been understood, is the katabasis or descent of the Soul from the realm of Zeus, the demiurge of Ideas, into that of Pluton, the demiurge of Images, bringing life and truth, what does it mean that this occurs through a will breached in its essence? For could not the same be accomplished through a normative marriage, in which Demeter would be fully involved? Why should it occur through the seeming reduction of Persephone to an object exchanged between the Kronian brothers? It is perfectly legitimate for an historicizing treatment to discuss the myth’s social determinants, or for variant theologies to substitute at this point a different account, but an inquiry such as mine rules out approaches that cannot recover the myth as itself the trace of a pure divine agency.

It must be, therefore, that the very essence of Persephone’s work is that the infinite power and agency of a God invert itself. Everything else that occurs in the myth, the chain of events leading to the establishment of the Mysteries, Eleusinian and Orphic alike, and indeed the very work of Dionysos as thwarted sovereign and savior, is contained in this moment, which is the seed of the mode of being of the mortal soul as such, its formative unknowing, unconsciousness, unwillingness. Our souls express their absolute freedom in the power of rejection only truly present in its failure to have its way, because otherwise that rejection is indistinguishable from merely choosing otherwise, that is, from the latency of what is merely not chosen, the potentiality not actualized. The latter, in the widest sense, we may see as grounded in the passion of Ouranos, in whom plays out the entire space of theogony itself. Ouranos is forced to allow what has come forth to distinguish itself, and hence can generate no more. The bond between Persephone and Ouranos in this work, moreover, is another expression of an Ouranian sovereignty which operates before, beyond, and throughout Olympian sovereignty.¹

The link between the sovereignties of the Idea and of the Image, therefore, two of the divisions of the sovereignty of Kronos, does not pass through Demeter, for it is not ‘natural’. Hence Mysteries are established. Nor does it found a new sovereignty which would succeed Zeus’s as His succeeds Kronos’s: Dionysos reigns in and through his own destruction. For were a sovereignty, a regime of truth, to be founded in its own name, in the name of the Image Itself, how then could the Image not thereby simply become the Idea, and undo the work of cosmogenesis? The Hellenic theology, at least in its dominant expressions, resists the cyclical generation and regeneration of sovereignties, as we see in Indian theology, in which the cosmos is produced and destroyed and produced again in the reciprocal exchange of divine powers.

Persephone does not consent, and therefore the bond between the Idea and the Image is as much a separation, and the reality of our being is expressed as much in our works of ignorance as in the light of our understanding. The will of every God is a source of truth and true knowledge to beings; this is no less true of tricksters than of hierophants. The negative will of the Kore is thus a source of our unknowing and the truth within it. This is not something which could have been different, as though insight was arbitrarily denied us. Nor does it merely express necessity, because necessity follows upon the Gods’ actions, it does not dictate them. Removing Persephone’s agency, or denying her refusal, can only distort the significance of her act.

Cernunnos

Segomâros Widugeni in Nemeton Segomâros

1. Meaning of Name: Ceisiwr Serith and Kondratiev both give us “The God with Antlers”. Green disagrees slightly, translating the name as “Horned One”, or “Peaked One”.¹
2. Pronunciation: Kayr-NUN-awss, with the “u” like in “put”.
3. Other Names and Epithets: The name can also be spelled Kernunnos, Karnonos, Carnonos, and in various other ways.²
Interpretatio Romana: Ceisiwr Serith suggests Mercury, Hercules, Apollo, and Pluto. Mackillop suggests Dis Pater, as does Phyllis Fray Bober.³
4. Irish Equivalent: Mackillop suggests the hero Conall Cernach, but this is disputed by Serith.⁴
5. Indo-European Equivalent: Páxusōn, the Indo-European God of herds, wealth, merchants, and bi-directionality.⁵
6. Realm: Neither ueronados nor andernados, Cernunnos mediates between the worlds.
7. Iconography: Green describes his iconography as antlers, stags, the ram-horned snake, torcs, a sack of grain and/or money, and a rat. Serith disputes this to some degree, arguing that the context of the horned serpent may suggest that it is a generic monster. Serith further suggests that sitting between the serpent and the torc may represent Cernunnos as a mediator between opposites. Likewise, he suggests that the depiction of Cernunnos on the Rheims altar, showing him between a stag and a bull, may represent his mediation between the wild and the civilized.⁶
8. Significance: Serith, in his extensively documented and closely reasoned article, sees Cernunnos as the a mediator between opposites, a God of bi-directionality and exchange, reciprocity and ambiguity. In this view, Cernunnos mediates between Upper World and Underworld, Samos and Giamos, wild and civilized, good and evil, light and darkness. As such, he is a God of agreements, contracts, merchants, and travelers. I also see him as a God of communication, an Opener of the Way, who can be invoked to bear prayers to the other Gods, as well as a psychopomp, a Guide of the Dead. He may be able to function as a spiritual initiator, as well. Kondratiev, in The Apple Branch, adds to this an elaborate seasonal mythology, in which Cernunnos stands for the giamos principle. Phyllis Fray Bober, in her 1951 article Cernunnos: Origin and Transformation of A Celtic Divinity, argues that Cernunnos is in fact Dis Pater, the Celtic lord of the Underworld and the Dead. Certainly, this would be in keeping with Cernuunos’ role as a psychopomp.⁷