locus classicus
is a passage in the Roman writer Seneca, claiming to quote
Berossus, a Babylonian scholar who wrote a book in Greek about Babylonian
astrology, history and culture in the early third century
. This work is
lost except for quotations, allusions and summaries in various classical and
early medieval writers, some based directly on his work, most, like Seneca’s,
indirect citations to summaries or quotations by others. Seneca describes
Berossus’s teaching as follows: ‘All that the earth inherits will, he assures us,
be consigned to flame when the planets, which now move in different orbits,
all assemble in Cancer, so arranged in one row that a straight line may pass
through their spheres. When the same gathering takes place in Capricorn,
then we are in danger of the deluge.’
14
Since no reference to such a belief has
been identified in any Mesopotamian source, and since the doctrine of
planetary spheres was not part of Mesopotamian astronomy, most scholars of
Mesopotamian cultures would consider this passage insufficient evidence for
the existence of a Babylonian idea of the end of the world.
15
It is not,
therefore, presented in conventional discussions of Mesopotamian religion,
which seldom even mention eschatology.
16
Considerably more attention has been given to a small group of late
documents usually called ‘prophecies’ or ‘apocalypses’. These refer to future
events in veiled language, some of which seem to have to do with Achaemenid
and Hellenistic rulers. A passage from one of these reads as follows: ‘Another
king will arise, but this time in [the city] Uruk. He will bring justice to the
land and restore the gods, sanctuaries, fortifications, and prosperity of Uruk.
26
Origins
The preceding king’s son will arise in Uruk and the empire. His reign will
be established forever. [The kings?] of Uruk will exercise dominion like the
gods.’
17
This fits a narrow definition of eschatological thought to the extent
that it foretells an era of triumph for the city Uruk, which had not known
an independent dynasty for at least ten centuries when this text was written.
The phrase ‘established forever’ is a cliché of Mesopotamian royalty so should
not be construed as a prediction of eternal life. This passage, as well as the
group of texts it belongs to, suggests that there was in fact a Mesopotamian
background to Jewish apocalyptic, originating perhaps in Babylonia under
Achaemenid rule, even as a protest to it, and continuing into the Hellenistic
period.
18
Enough is known of the cultural life of this fascinating period of
Mesopotamian history to show that it is a serious blunder to consider it a
feeble afterglow of the Mesopotamian civilization of a millennium earlier. It
is also a priori unlikely that people believed the same things in Babylon in the
sixth century
as they had in the sixteenth. But we may still adhere to our
position that eschatology was a late development in Mesopotamia, possibly a
consequence of foreign rule, and then ask a more difficult question: why not
earlier? What dynamic of earlier phases of Mesopotamian culture tended to
exclude eschatology? What might a Mesopotamian scholar of the late second
millennium
, for example, have said if someone asked him if the world
would end and, if so, how and when?
His answer might surprise a modern student: the world had already ended
in the remote past and that marked the beginning of the present. Meso-
potamian thought and tradition knew of an all-embracing catastrophe, the
deluge.
19
The discovery of a Mesopotamian deluge story, with unmistakable
similarities to the biblical flood story, was, in fact, the beginning of European
preoccupation with ancient Mesopotamia. Various versions of the story are
now known in the Akkadian language, the earliest from about the seventeenth
century
, the latest from manuscripts of the seventh century
, which
probably preserve a text from late in the second millennium.
20
According to the earliest full version,
21
the deluge was sent by the gods to
obliterate the human race. Thanks to the intervention of a sympathetic deity,
a flood hero and his wife survived by building a large boat and taking aboard
various animals (a later version includes craftsmen to keep alive knowledge of
the arts). The deluge wiped out the entire human race and all traces of
civilization. In the terror and confusion of the deluge, the gods recognized
that this measure had been too drastic. In its aftermath, when they found
themselves hungry and thirsty, the gods regretted that their human subjects
were gone, as there was no one to provide for their needs, to feed, clothe,
house, and entertain them. Therefore the human race was allowed to re-
populate the earth, but death was ordained for all humans, as well as periodic
27
Mesopotamia and the End of Time
measures to reduce population on a larger scale, such as famine, plague and
ravening beasts. In addition, the birth rate was reduced by ordaining human
infertility and establishing social prohibition of child-bearing to certain classes
of women, such as priestesses.
The Mesopotamians viewed human life before the deluge as different. The
correlation of biological with calendrical time was vastly slower. Human beings
lived to enormous ages, not with conventional childhoods and adulthoods and
long old ages, but rather with all stages of life more leisurely – a baby might
be in nappies for a century, for example.
22
Life was better then because it
lasted longer. In their literature Babylonians sometimes suggested that life
went by too quickly. The idea that remote antiquity embraced long periods
without important cultural changes is familiar to the modern historian, who
tends to think of more than
per cent of human history as relatively stable
in terms of population, material culture and subsistence patterns. To the
Babylonian historian, the rhythm of time and life were different, and seemed
faster, with the recession of the deluge.
Another characteristic of the Mesopotamian view of most ancient life was
that there was once less conflict of interest between humans and beasts than
in the present, or, in some versions, there were no baneful beasts in the world
at all:
In those days, there being no snakes, no scorpions,
No hyenas, no lions, no dogs, no wolves,
Neither fear nor terror:
Humanity had no enemy!
23
Less conflict may have taken place among human beings, as in most ancient
times the human race was less diverse: people had been mostly like the
Mesopotamians but had later branched out with their own languages and
gods.
The author of the early version of the deluge story, presenting it as the
early history of the human race, proposed an original solution to the question
as to why the world changed with a sudden catastrophe. Life was in fact too
long and too productive. The teeming masses of the human race raised such
a clamour that the gods could not sleep. This robust and ironic literary
treatment of the deluge scarcely accords with the narrow definitions of
millennial thought offered above. First, the final consummation took place in
the past. Second, the human race barely survived, but without justification or
moral improvement, just recognition of its utilitarian importance to the gods.
Third, the flood is clearly understood, at least in the later version, to be a
one-time event, never to recur. There was no waiting for a second flood and
computing the time until it would occur. Fourth, no era of bliss followed.
28
Origins
Thereafter, as the Babylonian author saw it, people had to die in an orderly
and prompt manner or be periodically wiped out in large numbers; there
were also whole groups of people who could not or were not allowed to
reproduce themselves. Humanity worked to maintain the gods, who lived
for ever in idleness and petty intrigues. The blissful elect had already died
long ago.
One must avoid, however, any paradigm in which Mesopotamians looked
towards the past, without hope, while Christians look towards the future,
with hope. In fact, the Mesopotamians were intensely interested in the future
and turned their finest scholarly and scientific talents towards understanding
and even manipulating it.
24
But they proceeded from an understanding of the
present that modern readers have struggled to come to terms with. Human
civilization was not a product of human history or even occasional divine
interventions. Rather, major human institutions, such as agriculture, urban
life, arts and crafts, scholarship, religious practice, or authoritarian rule, were
given to the human race before the deluge and remained essentially stable
through time. To the Sumerians, this meant that human institutions were
defined by individual, abstract, differentiated powers controlled by the gods.
To the Babylonians, human institutions were designed or planned by the
gods and laid down for the human race in fully developed form.
25
People
could ignore or forget them but they were there to be rediscovered.
Therefore, the discontinuities between gods and humans were those of
mortality and inferior human powers and intelligence in opposition to immor-
tality, unlimited powers and superior wisdom and understanding belonging to
the gods.
26
The life patterns, needs, policies and material culture of the divine
and mortal spheres were comparable. Since the physical world was part of a
cosmos constructed, arranged and controlled by the gods, its order could but
seldom be at fundamental variance with their purposes, and so destruction of
the world was not envisaged.
27
Nor should we expect the flood to be a universal
boundary in Mesopotamian thought. The Babylonian Epic of Creation, for
example, ends before the flood, considering the organization of the universe
and the construction of Babylon the main events of history.
28
In any case, the
present was a product of stable, god-given institutions and short-lived human
endeavours.
Turning to the future, we find that Mesopotamian texts addressed to
human beings of ages to come assume a cultural horizon similar to that of
the time the text was written: Babylonian kings will still repair temples and
public buildings and remember with honour their predecessors. There will be
good and bad times and different cities and dynasties will rule the land.
29
But
there will always be a land and cities and dynasties, without significant social
or technological changes, far into the future.
29
Mesopotamia and the End of Time
Mesopotamian culture makes ample reference to a belief in destiny, deter-
mined by the gods at birth, even written on a sublime tablet.
30
The gods
vouchsafed glimpses of destiny in both everyday and extraordinary occurrences
and in response to queries and technical procedures carried out by professional
scholars.
31
Aspects of destiny could be averted or manipulated through rituals,
though the ultimate destiny, death, could not be avoided. In a culture that
placed strong emphasis on destiny, the past, in which destiny was decided,
will be the same as the future, in which destiny is acted out. A person will
live towards his past, hence the future is what lies behind him, or one could
say that his future has already happened.
32
If one accepts this idea, or a
variation of it, then one can hope to discover the future from the present and
past, as they form a seamless whole. Mesopotamian hope for the future,
therefore, centred on the possibilities of manipulating or swaying destiny, by
changing behaviour and carrying out apotropaic procedures sold by experts.
We cannot create a false symmetry by asserting that the Mesopotamians
had millennialism reversed, that people were seeking an era of bliss by
burrowing into the past. Informed imitation of the past was a virtue, but this
is so widespread in human communities that it would not make the Babylonians
into millenarians. Furthermore, the crucial line between past and present, the
deluge, could not be crossed. When the Mesopotamian hero-king Gilgamesh
decided that he was man enough to try to cross this boundary and find the
secret of immortal life, the flood hero scoffs at his venture, ‘Who then will
call the gods to assembly for your sake, that you may find the eternal life you
seek?’
33
He does, however, allow Gilgamesh to bring back to the human race
the story of the flood, which otherwise would have remained unknown, since
there was no one else to recount it. There is no hope for anyone beyond the
normal life-span (even if courtesy required wishing kings an everlasting reign,
as in the prophecy concerning Uruk quoted above).
Having considered what happened in the remote past, we may turn to
Mesopotamian speculations about the far future, which to Mesopotamians
meant what happens after death. This too has a bearing on the possibilities
for eschatological beliefs. Death held no promise of a better world, rather, a
worse one, permanent incarceration in a dark, dusty place, languishing in
eternal hunger and thirst unless one’s descendants remembered to make food
offerings. Such joys as were to be attained were decidedly of this life. Death
was the end of everything about a human being that was attractive or worth
experiencing.
34
Here too the
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