by Harvey Kraft
THE NEXT GENERATION
Priesthoods from competing city-states addressed inter-city political, social, and geographical issues by using their deities as proxies in negotiations. Their debates were crafted in mythic language. Hidden in their divine metaphors were startlingly deep observations about life and death.
The priests of Nippur, fearful of interruptions in their food supply and upset with the scarcity of other essential resources, declared that the God Enlil demanded greater tribute from the lowland city-states along the rivers. Initiating a cunning contest between the gods of Nippur and Eridu, they sent a myth-scripted message to Enki’s clergy expressing the Sky God Enlil’s displeasure with the insufficient amount of foods offered to his capital—threatening to unleash his feared wrath upon those who had failed to pay proper tribute.
Enlil has convinced the Annunaki that the creation of humans was a failed experiment. Respecting his observations on the matter, the Assembly hereby orders Enki, the God of Waters, to unleash a monsoon deluge that would destroy the irrigation canals the humans had built.11
Although normal seasonal floods were desirable for cultivation, Nippur wanted to teach Eridu a lesson they would never forget—the threat of a Great Flood was designed to make the point that Eridu was guilty of hoarding and greed. Nippur’s myth of the Great Flood was a curse on Eridu for imposing high prices, rationing food allocations, and providing insufficient donations to Enlil. The punishment of an epic flood in the low-lying areas would drown people, destroy farms and kill the livestock. The Great Flood may have been crafted as a prediction of impending doom meant to intimidate Eridu’s priests. Or, it may have been issued after a particularly devastating flood to blame Eridu’s lackluster tribute for an event that had already happened.
In either case the priests of Eridu were ready with a response. They took a counterintuitive approach by expanding the scope of the flood story to mythic proportions—a Great Flood that would wipe out the entire world. Mocking Nippur’s elitism embodied in Enlil’s threat to rid the world of human beings, they predicted that the flood would be worldwide and cause all humans to disappear, with one exception. Thus they extended the story and added a clever twist to Nippur’s plot.
Prior to fulfilling the order of the Annunaki to unleash the Great Flood, Enki, the Water God visited the devout priest and delta-farmer Atra-Hasis12 (personification of the sun). Warning of the impending deluge, the god instructed him to build a barge and load it with his family and farm animals. After the Great Flood washed away civilization, Atra-Hasis would restart humanity and produce a more kind-hearted bloodline in tune with a wiser and more compassionate god.
Symbolically, when the sun re-emerged to dry the land, the dawn of a new era of humanity ensued, thus revealing that the wiser Enki had outwitted the wrathful Enlil.
The sequel myth juxtaposed the “Water Cosmogony” of farm-based Eridu with the “Mountain Cosmogony” of cattle-herding Nippur. For Eridu, having reclaimed the Earth from the swamp, the essential role of the gods was to help farmers grow crops. Enki’s response to the Great Flood proposed a new social contract wherein the gods would be more compassionate to people and in return people would be more devout and law-abiding.
Eridu relied on the Sun God to provide sunlight to claim the land. The God of Sweet Waters would then grant them the ability to siphon the Tigris-Euphrates for river waters before it flowed into the Persian Gulf where sweet waters mixed with saltwater. Eridu conceived of Earth as an “island“ in a Water-World. The Earth sat on top of ground waters and was surrounded by a saltwater ocean.
The countervailing perspective of Nippur was focused on the summit of the Cosmic Mountain, residence of the immortal gods. Their cattle, sheep, and goat herding constituencies worshipped the Moon, but the Cosmic Mountain of Nippur was the divine home of all the Elemental-Gods and the Celestial-Gods, and as such they deemed the mortal world at its foot to be inferior.
The competitive half-brother gods served as proxies in a fundamental disagreement about the universal character of nature and its relation to human vulnerabilities. Embedded in the combined portions of the myth of the “Great Flood and the Savior Sun” was a legitimate debate about the roles and responsibilities of divinity. The debate pitted the proponents of an authoritarian, wrathful god who imposed rewards and punishments against a god that nourished humanity with kindness, harmony, and the wisdom of natural order.
It was here between Nippur and Eridu that the profound argument ensued over the character of the divine. At stake in the battle for divine dominance was the relationship between immortals and mortals, a debate that would continue in a variety of other guises for thousands of years to come.
For the Sumerian clergy, this argument had major ramifications as to the value of human life. Did the gods create humanity only to work them like slaves, or did they have a more generous purpose in mind?
A third clergy from the city-state of Kish stepped in to arbitrate the Nippur-Eridu debate and superseded both positions. They suggested the merger of the gods to facilitate the harmonious operation of Nature. On the one hand they acknowledged that Eridu’s reputation for doing business fairly suffered because they had many good paying customers. This led to dissatisfaction by Nippur’s clergy. They regarded themselves as deserving of greater consideration because of their special status as Enlil’s servants, but Kish could not condone Nippur’s angry flood scenario as a legitimate response to the problem.
In their sequel to the Great flood, the Earth Mother priests of Kish offered a new myth that would teach the Water-God a lesson of responsibility. Written in the form of a world-creation mythology, it focused on the inception of nature’s growth. In it they pledged an alliance between Ninhursag and Enki to work together for the greater good. Their “plant origin” story would propose that the fertility of nature emanated from the union of water and earth. On another level, this story doubled as a social commentary, offering a cautionary tale about exploitative short-term relationships versus the virtues of lasting relationships. Finally, at its core this myth of Ninhursag and Enki in Paradise13 called on wise mortals to recognize and appreciate the gifts of life received from the immortal realm.
In the earthly paradise of the Gods, Dilmun,14 a place absent of sickness or death, the Water God, Enki, in an effort to spark life impregnated his bovine half-sister, Ninhursag, the Earth (also mother of his half-brother the Sky). Their union resulted in the birth of the Goddess Ninsar, Lady of Greenery. As a result the ground became seeded with a grass cover. Afterwards Ninhursag departed paradise to allow the seasons to unravel.
While she was away, the Water God, Enki, encountered Ninsar, but did not realize she was his daughter. Excited by her lush green appearance, he beguiled her. But after a wild night of passionate sex, he realized that she did not compare to Mother Nature and moved on. Unaware that Ninsar had bore him a child, Ninkurra, the Lady of the Mountain, the embodiment of bushes and edible plant life, he soon after came to an area of beautiful mountain vegetation. Thrilled by the sight of Ninkurra he seduced her and impregnated her with his semen. But here too he found himself dissatisfied. Ninkurra gave birth to a daughter, Uttu, the Spider Goddess, also known as the Lady Web of Life. Endowed with the ability to spin nature’s patterns, she was also the weaver of awareness. But once again Enki had been oblivious to the outcome of his actions.
At this time Ninhursag returned to Dilmun and was perturbed to learn of Enki’s lustful escapades. She cautioned Uttu to stay clear of riverbanks and swamps where Enki might spot her and use his charms like he did with the others. Although Uttu kept her distance, Enki came across her and bearing gifts of fresh fruit from the Garden of Life he convinced her to let him come near. Once they were close he was able to impregnate her, but in the morning he departed like he did with the others. Disappointed, Uttu immediately consulted her great-grandmother, Mother Nature, about Enki’s intentions. Ninhursag encouraged her to learn from this experience and in the future choose a lover willing t
o commit to her before granting him sexual access.
But first, she advised Uttu to abort her pregnancy by removing Enki’s seed from her womb and depositing it in the ground. In a matter of days Enki’s seed grew into eight primal trees, each containing a blessing for the growth of Life, the last of which was Ti, the Tree of Life. Seeing these luscious trees, Enki, eager to learn how they tasted, ate a piece of each one.
Enraged by his irresponsible and selfish ways, Ninhursag had become fed up with his greed and philandering. Face to face she scolded him for his irresponsible actions of taking advantage of young and naive women, leaving them with the burden of childbirth, and showing a total lack of consideration for their feelings. She cursed him to suffer for his indiscretions and departed for a far away place. Her remonstration helped Enki become aware of his errors, but it was too late.
Having consumed tree limbs containing his own semen, he fell gravely ill. The organs in his body began to swell to an enormous size (i.e., flood) and wounds appeared on the Water God’s body (i.e., destruction). Watching his agony, the Sky God (Enlil) and the Assembly of Gods (Annunaki) concerned for his failing health called on Mother Nature to request that she withdraw her curse. Learning that Enki’s life was on the line, she hurried back to his side and tenderly wrapped herself around him. One by one Ninhursag removed the tree genomes from the Water God’s body and implanted them in her own womb. Shen then gave birth to a suite of divine herbs including the god of medicinal plants from which elixirs would be made, and seven goddesses, each respectively able to cure Enki’s wounds in his jaw, hip, tooth, mouth, throat, limbs, and ribs.
The last of the healing goddesses was Nin-Ti, the Lady of the Tree of Life. She cured his wounded ribs. Fully recovered, Enki lauded the heaven-sent power of the Tree of Life (Ti) to “animate beings“ with the gift of joyful living.
Feeling truly alive, his consciousness raised, and his health better than ever, Enki thanked Ninhursag for teaching him an important lesson. Together, they pledged their love to one another and vowed to spread life, love, and fruition throughout the world.15
On its surface this myth was about the creation of nature. Earth in her union with the Waters brought forth greenery, flowers, fruits, and trees, creating the heavenly paradise of Dilmun in the physical plane. But beneath the surface, its writers offered an intimate social lesson about appropriate relationships. They espoused the importance of fidelity and tenderness by contrasting casual sexual affairs with a deeper self-sacrificing love indicative of long-term relationships. Using the gods as models for this message they provided an audience of young women and priestesses in service of Mother Nature with wise counsel, while, on another level, they metaphorically addressed the underlying breach between Eridu and Nippur.
The writers of Kish were advising Eridu, the center of Sumerian trade, to act more responsibly and fairly with consciousness for the impact their actions may have on other city-states. The myth encourages Eridu to anticipate consequences and take a longer-term view, so as not to engender the ire of other clergies, such as Nippur.
Yet the deepest purpose of this story was a profound revelation about the origin and meaning of life. In addition to the social issues and personal relevance addressed therein, Sumerian myths were embedded with coded wisdom inherited from earlier shamanic storytellers. Containing insights into Universal Truth, the myths reflected the heritage of messaging aimed directly at the unconscious mind.
The Kish writers used Cuneiform symbols, the Sumerian script invented in 3200 BCE. In telling of the cure for Enki’s ribs, they chose a glyph that at once stood for “ribs” as well as the sacred “Tree of Life.” In this most subtle way, they communicated an extraordinary suggestion of an inter-world synergy between the physical body and celestial energy wherein: (a) the ribs represented the human skeletal system, the internal scaffolding holding up the human water-based body, and (b) the tree represented the cosmic nervous system, the spiritual aqueducts through which Heaven conducted the “magical” lifeforce that animated living beings on Earth. These two systems, the myth advised, were inseparable.
Consequently, embedded in Kish’s observation was the view that nature had a far more intimate relationship with humans than the other clergies had appreciated. Here was the profound revelation of the three great universal gifts the gods had bestowed upon mortals: (1) the Sacred Tree of Illumination represented the Universal Gift of Life; (2) the Spider-Weaver was the Universal Gift of Consciousness; and (3) the medicinal plants were the Universal Gift of Health. The mere existence of these gifts meant that human beings were more than just slaves made by the gods out of clay. Human beings were endowed with the divine channel of life itself. It was this inheritance that caused them to be aware of the dangers inherent in existence and connected them with the plants they needed to treat illness or injury to survive the threat of death.
THE CELESTIAL ROAD
In the middle of an observation circle erected with megalith stone markers on a raised sacred mound spirit-seers from several mountain tribes would huddle around the fire. Their arms outstretched they induced visions by repeating incantations and consuming a euphoric elixir. Closing their eyes, their minds received the wings of flight. Quickly they entered a trance state that carried them to the starry sky above and through the gates of Heaven. Hours later their eyes opened and they shared with one another their visions of the night’s journey. Returning to their tribes, these shaman allies each reported how their den roared like lions to open the sky channel. They told of shining a beam of sunlight from their mind’s eye into the realm of the gods. A cheer arose from their audience when they reported having seen the God of War preparing to destroy their enemies.
In prehistoric times two major streams of tribal nations had originated in Africa some 20,000–40,000 years ago. One settled and developed its original identity in northern Africa and the southern coast of the Mediterranean where prior to the desertification of this region a lush “Green Sahara” flourished. The other group migrated from the eastern coast of Africa into Asia across the Egypt-Levant land bridge up the eastern Mediterranean coastline. They settled all around the transcontinental region across Europe and Asia, and the northern Mediterranean coast along the Aegean and Adriatic Seas.
Due primarily to a series of major climactic shifts, including rapid cooling and heating, floods and droughts, the Eurasian populations intermittently had to relocate (11000–1000 BCE). Tribal collectives moved slowly in migratory waves in a generally eastbound direction across a wide band from the European side of the Black Sea to the Steppes in Central Asia. In time, they descended from northern to southern locations crossing through a vast region from Mesopotamia to the Indus and Ganges.
These populations shared a linguistic root identified in modern times as Indo-European. This common characteristic represents the languages of European and Central Asian tribes that evolved over time into Sanskrit, Armenian, Greek, Slavic, Persian, Hindi, English, German, and others.
At the helm of these nomadic populations were the Aryans, the spiritual descendants of the trance visionary Lion-Sun shamans. They led an amalgam of tribes on mass migrations in the direction of the rising sun. Wherever they went—as they moved from colder northwestern to warmer southeastern climates—the sun blessed them with protection. As needed, the Lion-Sun tribes coalesced into large nomad federations or spun off on their own. They either decided to camp in one place or continue on to attack civilizations they came across or to avoid populated areas. Testifying to their ancient legacy, their lion symbol representing the visionary and divining powers of their shaman-seers appeared in various guises in pre-historic Europe and in Egypt, but eventually had its greatest impact on a vast stretch between Anatolia (Turkey) and the Ganges (India).
The other major source of early religions was equally responsible for the development of language. The Afro-Asian tribes created the Semitic languages (Arabic, Aramaic, Hebrew, Ethiopian, etc.). Their shamans embraced the Moon as their primary deity
and Bovines (such as Bull, Cow, Ox, and Calf) as their symbols. Their cattle-associated worship was derived from their sponsor populations—those responsible for initiating the domestication of farm animals and herding activities.
The Saharan tribes originally migrated eastward as the northern African region began to turn into a desert. The first wave entered Egypt where they merged with other tribes that had migrated from the southern portion of the Nile up along the east coast of Africa. Massive death of animals ensued as the Saharan climate continued to deteriorate over several thousand years. Waves of migrations came to settle in Egypt or continued through it and across the continental land bridge into Western Asia, venturing into Arabia, the Levant, and Mesopotamia.
Due to a cataclysmic and intermittent Great Freeze (10000–8000 BCE) the Lion-Sun stream moved into Central Asia from Europe, and the Bull-Moon worshippers entered Central Asia from Africa. Both shaman traditions provided the underlying mythic legacy inherited by Egyptian and Sumerian religions and other cultures as migrations expanded.
Both shared a common penchant for the exploration of celestial movements. They subscribed to a common view that the celestial bodies appeared and departed routinely through the opening and closing of unmarked celestial gates on the horizon.
The shamans identified divine order by observing the regularity with which the sun and moon tracked across the sky dome. They used ritual mounds and circular monoliths as axial entry points and observatories to measure seasonal progressions and astral events. With the establishment of settlements priests took these prehistoric celestial practices to the next level—developing the skills required to read the sky like a book.
The Sumerians had invented a rudimentary form of geometric mathematics and a glyphic marking system with which they painstakingly charted the patterns in the sky. Their three Celestial Gods of Light— Moon, Sun, and Stars—complemented the Elemental World-Gods—the Sky, Earth, and Waters. In the gender-based language of mythic personalization each trinity of gods was composed of two males and one female each.