Pythagoras the Mathemagician

by Karim El Koussa

  A dozen drummers performed their deistic soft rhythms while the Magus smashed a variety of magical herbs and plants. He mixed them together and blended them. He then placed the green mixture in a terracotta pot on low fire. Soon, a powerful aroma wafted around to stimulate the senses. Pythagoras deemed the herbal occult powers to be of foremost furtherance. Thus, he was not surprised when the mixture was used on him throughout the rite of purification.

  The ceremony ended with Zaratas baptizing him in the Euphrates River.

  A few months later, still a prisoner in Babylon, Pythagoras met with a Saddhu of India, a meeting he was looking forward to. His only attire consisted of a strange leather necklace, and a long white beard that contrasted with his brown face. In fact, the Saddhu, who strongly believed that the sky was enough to clothe him, appeared completely naked.

  Pythagoras spent two years with the odd Saddhu learning the great discipline of Yoga. This sacred science never included spirits or planets, but only Man; the Microcosm of the Macrocosm.

  “Your body, Pythagoras, is composed of seven Chakras. The sacred science of Yoga considers them the seven centers of Energy,” the Saddhu explained. “Your mission is to awaken within you the Astral Light that the Ancients described as the Serpent of Fire; Kundalini! It is the Akasa of immortality and wisdom. You must lift it up along the Soushoumnâ, your spinal cord, till you reach the blossom of your Brahmarandra, your God-Head Lotus. Only at that stage, will you come to merge with the Total Consciousness,” the Gymnosophist instructed him.

  Yoga meant also Union. In some ways, it closely connected to the Esoteric Physiology; that sacred and highest form of Initiation Pythagoras had previously acquired in Egypt. Very few people had ever been accepted inside the Egyptian sacred shrines; Pythagoras being one of them.

  Union, after all, remained what every Initiate of the ancient world longed to accomplish during his spiritual life. In essence, what all Initiates sought and strove for was a Union of their three dimensions, a Union with the world around them, and ultimately, a Union with the Essence of life.

  Pythagoras had indeed reached such a state back in the Great Pyramid of Khufu, when, with the use of his will, he had entered eternity and gone into the bosom of the Source. That endeavor had allowed him to fly out of his material body and return at any desired time, attaining immortality by such!

  He recalled the powerful words of the Priests of Memphis.

  The science of numbers and the control of the will are the keys to the Real Magic that opens the gates of the universe.

  Time elapsed…

  Five years into his captivity, Pythagoras reached a profound insight. He ultimately concluded that all religions he had come to know by then sprang out of one single truth; the Enochian-Hermetist Truth, that which was immemorial in time! The Truth had been certainly transformed into many religions and transported to many nations around the world. Such a phenomenon occurred according to the degree of intelligence of those groups of people, and their social structures.

  Obviously, very few nations had preserved its original form. Most of them had tolerated some minor or major deviations to occur along the process. In addition, Truth splintered in two sections.

  The first was the exoteric, or the outside form of religion. It served the common people that conveyed it from a generation to another.

  The second section was the esoteric, or the inside form of religion, ministered to the Initiates who then relayed it only to elite after elite.

  There existed no doubt whatsoever on where Pythagoras stood from these two sections. Certainly a true Initiate, he, among the very few, had received the Truth from its original Phoenician-Egyptian source. He had acquired the Key to the Occult Science which was, without question, the synthesis of all doctrines. He had studied the past, understood the present and envisioned the future.

  He had also witnessed the boundless human manipulation of the divine right doctrine by some rulers of nations; the alleged King-Priests. And along with the genesis of man, he had also pondered over the history of many adjacent nations. Therefore, eager to convey the Truth in its genuine form, he longed for substantial changes, not only for the sake of those subdued by socio-religious tyranny, but for the sake of all men as well. In fact, he strongly aspired to freeing mankind from all the chains that impeded its evolution.

  Time to decide!

  Time to devise!

  Yet, his incarceration hindered any possible initiative by him. He needed his freedom back at all cost. The time had come for him to go back to Greece. The personal mission he had just engaged himself in, by his own free will and choice, should be carried to accomplishment, whatever the cost!

  His lovely mother Parthenis had told him once about the Prophecy of the Oracle of Delphi, and the similar prediction revealed by the Priests of Adonis. The certainty of his fate dawned on him clearly; a fate written beyond the memory of the manifested world, there where time had no limitation, and there where the past, the present, and the future strongly intermingled within one omnipresent frame of existence!

  The Akashic memory had revealed to Pythia, the Medium-Priestess of the Temple, that he would be a great man for mankind, a kind of a Savior. Pythagoras started to believe it, now that he had finally come to realize the real significance of his life. Nothing happens by coincidence! He concluded with certainty.

  The time has come for me to dash ahead with my mission! He decided more determined than ever.

  In order for him to leave Babylon, and thus regain his freedom, Pythagoras needed to submit to the ruler of Babylon a written order from the King of Persia. He strove in vain for any means of achieving this, when, suddenly one day, be it by chance, or perhaps by divine will, he met a man from Samos; an old friend of his deceased father Mnesarchus. That Samian, by the name of Democedes, dwelt closely to the King – being his personal physician. He felt compelled to help the son of his friend in all the ways he could, and requesting his liberation from the King was one of them.

  And so it came to be, a few days later, that the King of Persia signed a royal decree fast dispatched to the ruler of Babylon for the immediate discharge of Pythagoras. Believing that the winds had finally changed their courses to ally with his mission at hand, Pythagoras rejoiced greatly in the news.

  * * *

  Never has Pythagoras felt as cheerful as on the day he sailed to his freedom on the ship that took him to Samos. Freedom, during those days, beheld simple meanings to him. It carried the smell of the sea, and the taste of salty breeze. He could see it in the unruly waves that hit the ship, and in the sunset of the infinite horizon. He sensed it in the fresh air he breathed, and in the meager meals he shared with the sailors on board. After he had come to endure the boundaries of captivity, he beheld minor details as significant blessings.

  The ship finally edged closer to Samos. Anticipation made him restless. Only then, did he realize the depth of his nostalgia for his second home. Almost thirty years had passed since he had departed from Samos. That was definitely a long time!

  He was turning fifty-one by then, and it was around the year 520 BCE.

  The moment he disembarked in the island, Pythagoras faced a horrible disaster that killed his joy. Samos lay under the ashes of war. Downhearted, he walked the deplorable streets of his childhood. His recent years of confinement had isolated him from all occurrences beyond the walls of Babylon. On board, a sailor had informed him, vaguely though, that Oroetus, the Persian lieutenant and governor of Lydia, had launched since 547 BCE a war to expand the Achaemenid Empire. To face the reality of that aftermath dawned on Pythagoras painfully.

  Pythagoras halted at the white marble fountain of the plaza to drink and refresh himself. He splashed water on his face several times in an attempt to cool his angst down. He then turned to observe the desolation around him. Deeply saddened, he slouched on the perimeter of the fountain.

  “Shocked my son?” the quaky voice impelled him to turn around. A man, wrinkled by age, his back hunched, watc
hed him with doleful eyes.

  “What happened?” Pythagoras murmured.

  “The war.”

  “Tell me about it,” he implored him in a tearful tone. “Please!”

  The old man shrunk his small eyes in wonder. “You are not from here,” he concluded with insight.

  “I am… was…” Pythagoras blurted out. “I was away.” The simple words ensued heavy with his feeling of guilt.

  The old man seemed to understand. He slowly closed the distance and sat at his side, yet did not speak for a while. Pythagoras waited patiently.

  “It’s a long story,” the old man warned him.

  “I’m listening.”

  The ancient man nodded then, his eyes to the horizon, he related, “Around 540-535, three brothers executed a rebellion against our oligarchy. Their names were Polycrates, Pantagnostus and Syloson. Many of our citizens supported them enormously. They captured the citadel of the city. Not so long after, Polycrates alienated his own brothers. He ordered the execution of his eldest, Pantagnostus, and sent Syloson, his youngest into exile in Persia.”

  He went motionless in his thoughts… or was it his breath that he tried to catch? Pythagoras wondered about his age, and name.

  “Polycrates was a popular man,” the old man pursued the story. “He controlled Samos without changing the constitution. He created a new government and imposed his autocracy on its members, and on society. Of course, the old aristocracy opposed them. Some of them fled the island. The others were expelled.”

  “An oppressive ruler…,” Pythagoras commented in a murmur.

  “Yes, but Samos reached the height of its prosperity under his reign. He generated many remarkable public works that enhanced our city. Our school of sculptors attained a grand reputation, so did our institutions of metal-workers and engineers. Our people opened up trade with the Black Sea and Egypt. We were probably the first Greeks to reach the Straits of Gibraltar!”

  A smile drew on his face. His eyes sparkled with pride. He stared then at Pythagoras expecting a reaction of some kind.

  “It must have been days of glory for Samos,” Pythagoras remarked with a smile.

  “Oh yes! Polycrates even created a huge and powerful navy that, not only protected our city from all attacks, but also reigned superior in the Aegean waters!”

  Impressed, Pythagoras advanced, more as a question than a statement, “It must have been quite costly on the city though.”

  “Not really. Polycrates secured the financial contribution of the Egyptian Pharaoh Amasis. This one deemed him a potentially useful ally against Persia.”

  “What happened next?”

  “Well, Polycrates soon changed sides,” the old man declared with a frown. “He joined the Persian King Cambyses II who invaded Egypt in 525 BCE. Three years later, a civil war broke out in the Persian Empire. Gaumâta, a Persian usurper, revolted against his King Cambyses in 522 BCE. Cambyses died before the open war began.”

  “Thus, Polycrates lost a strong ally with the death of Cambyses,” Pythagoras deducted out loud.

  The old man nodded. “He did in fact! During the summer of that same year, he was invited to Sardes by Oroetus, the Persian governor of Lydia. Oroetus was long appointed by Cyrus II, the Great king of Persia and father of Cambyses II. What Polycrates failed to see was that Oroetus coveted the Samian navy for himself. He wanted to strengthen his position during the chaos that had ensued at the death of Cambyses II. Oroetus tempted Polycrates with a lot of money that Polycrates deemed useful for him to control all of Greece. All that Oroetus requested in exchange was for Polycrates to save him from the Persian King who plotted his death.”

  “I assume that Polycrates fell in the trap of his own ambition,” Pythagoras issued more to himself.

  The old man gazed at him in a moment of silent surprise. “You can say so, yes,” he admitted. “It was certainly a great offer of money and power,” he added as if excusing the mistake of his past ruler.

  “Too much ambition could be dangerous,” Pythagoras commented firmly to reject the argument of the old man.

  The ancient man rendered a deep sigh of fatality. “You’re right, son. Your wisdom is praiseworthy.”

  “What happened next?”

  “His ambition, as you rightly stated, cost him his life. Oroetus had him killed and crucified in Sardes,” he announced in a sad tone, and bowed his head for a while, engrossed in his own grief.

  “Samos…,” Pythagoras muttered at realizing the cost that the city must have paid because of the ambition and unawareness of its ruler.

  “Yes… Samos paid a heavy price,” the old man confirmed with tears in his eyes. “With Polycrates dead[28], Oroetus took control of Samos. The blow ensued very harsh on us. The Persian Achaemenid Empire had already expanded west towards Greece and the Aegean Sea. Their army stormed in on our beautiful island, destroyed it, conquered it and partially depopulated it.”

  By now, tears streamed down the face of the ancient man who had apparently undergone a lot of disappointment and pain. Pythagoras respected his grieving moments. He looked around the desolated plaza that he remembered full of life and activities. He recalled his years of schooling here.

  “What happened to our temples and schools?”

  “Most of them were destroyed or had their doors sealed, my son. A major damage, it is, since all our priests, scientists and poets ran away!”

  “Oh, they escaped the tyranny of the Persian Empire, of course! A true cultural disaster!” Pythagoras exclaimed with frustration and discontentment. He worried then that the inherent tension caused by the Persian invasion would be an impediment to his mission. However, his determination to prevail overcame his concern.

  “You are aware, aren’t you, that Darius I seized power in Persia?” The ancient man broke the silence. Without waiting for an answer, he continued, “He did, yes! He fought a civil war against Gaumâta and killed him. As such, he ended the chaos in the Persian Empire. He restored order, not only in Persia, but also everywhere the Empire extended. He succeeded in reorganizing the Achaemenid Empire. Oroetus was executed in Samos, and another Persian governor ruled us… for a while though, because Darius the Great needed a loyal Greek to preside over Samos.”

  “It happened that Syloson, the youngest brother of Polycrates, had met Darius in Egypt while he was a member of the guard of Cambyses. When Polycrates perished at the hand of Oroetus, Syloson asked Darius to help him recover Samos, his native land. Thus, when Darius became the King of Persia, Syloson hurried to the royal palace of Susa and got appointed ruler of Samos.”

  The old man turned to drink water from the fountain. Pythagoras watched his slow movements for a while then looked afar, his mind analyzing the war tales.

  “You have changed, Pythagoras,” the quivery voice of the old man rendered with emotion.

  Pythagoras veered to him in bewilderment.

  The old man smiled. “We thought you were dead.”

  “You know me…” the statement was more of a question.

  “Your father was a good man, Pythagoras. A very good man indeed,” the old man intoned with tears in his eyes. “I miss him. Samos misses him!”

  Pythagoras swallowed the sudden tension that grabbed his throat at the mention of his father.

  The ancient man sighed loudly. “I, among few, have survived times and illness, Pythagoras. I have recognized you for having known you in your youth.”

  The astonishment rendered Pythagoras speechless, so did the patent affection of the old man…

  During the days that followed, Pythagoras made it a point to socialize with the citizens. Polite and courteous in manners and words, like the elderly remembered him, he gained the interest of most. His radiant serenity and wisdom impressed them. In fact, his inner glow and calm authority seemed to distinguish him as a man of divine inspiration; a holy man, almost an angel! That impression of him kept Samos forever bewildered.

  As for Pythagoras, his stay resulted interesting, both to him and
to the citizens. The elders decided to summon him to speak in public about his vastly acquired knowledge. Feeling honored by the noble request, he agreed, eager to guide and instruct the Samians. He deemed the event to be a divine sign to launch his mission.

  And so, he did. He adopted the Egyptian symbolic and parabolic method of teaching to address them. Unfortunately, he faced an unexpected impediment. The Samians did not understand the profundity of his words. Mostly prosperous merchants from the aristocratic classes that had previously governed the city, they rejected his way and refused to acknowledge him as a sage. If truth be told, their incapability to understand lay on their unwillingness to comply with the commitments he proposed, and especially after the devastating war that stroke their island. After their recent predicament, their mood sought what was effortless and less demanding. In consequence, his teachings encountered total disapproval!

  In fact, the spiritual and mathematical disciplines Pythagoras strove to introduce to the Greek Samians did not convene with their motives. His audience decreased by the day.

  Yet, he prevailed!

  Despair never dwelled in his heart or mind. Determined and assertive, the son of the prophecy stood up; he who became a Master with a vision! And his vision required from him to change the world around him, and make it a better place, with no room for ignorance and war, but knowledge and wisdom instead; a place nourished by the culture of peace.

  Long days ensued with him immersed in meditation. He remained as such until he came up with a plan. If talking to the mass with its diversity did not serve his purpose, then he should try to focus all his energy on one single individual, someone with enough desire to learn the great teachings he was willing to offer.

  The following day, he lingered in the city square, there by the fountain. With the quiet sharpness of an eagle, he patiently observed the people at their tasks, or simply passing by.

  Until finally…

  He detected the particular aura of a young man of robust body. Pythagoras did not waver in approaching him. The youngster looked at him in puzzlement. His eyes conveyed recognition for he had probably seen him during one of his sermons. Pythagoras engaged him in a social conversation. Eventually, their dialogue led them to sit at the marble steps of the fountain monument.