Historians of religion have long been occupied with the study of what occurs when religions come into contact. But only in recent decades have classicists and scholars of the ancient Near East begun to engage in dialogue with them and their works. This dialogue has allowed the respective disciplines to recognize that few beliefs and practices are adopted or assimilated without adaptation and that no religious tradition is resistant to change or exists in a vacuum. Of course, when religions come into contact some elements are seen as too foreign. Ritual, for example, tends to be conservative by nature; the smallest changes, whether instituted from within or imposed from the outside, often provoke anxieties and fear of identity loss in practitioners. On the other hand, religious practices that appear too similar also cause problems of identity (Smith 2004:230-302). Thus it is extremely important to account for cultural borrowings, especially in matters of religious belief and practice, by postulating the existence of shared taxonomies (ways of classifying the world) and the preconditions that make adoption possible (Raaflaub 2000:60-4). Defining and explaining these taxonomies and preconditions is a complicated endeavor that poses a number of difficulties. Illustrating these difficulties particularly well is the hellenistic practice of equating Greek and Near Eastern gods.
During the hellenistic period, Hellenes began to equate the gods of foreign lands with their own native deities in a process often referred to by scholars as interpretatio or ‘‘translation.’’ A Hellene could, without any apparent theological dilemma, worship any foreign god that most closely resembled his own native deity. Thus, Apollo was identified with Baal, Zeus with Amun, Aphrodite with Ishtar, Artemis with Anat, Demeter with Isis, and so on. In the past these equations were seen as evidence of the impact of hellenism in foreign lands. However, recent scholars have pointed out that such equations are found only in Greek sources, not Near Eastern ones, making them unlikely representations of hellenization (Oelsner 2002:189-90). Of course, this does not mean that they do not represent an effort to spread hellenic culture, only that they do not represent the successful result of such an effort.
Others have seen these translations as evidence for ‘‘syncretism’’ or ‘‘hybridity,’’ that is, the fusion of Aegean and Near Eastern religions. However, neither ‘‘syncretism’’ nor ‘‘hybridity’’ offers a particularly useful model for understanding the process of interpretatio, and not just because of their tainted colonial histories (Graf 2004a:10). Neither model helps us to ascertain the processes that underlie such equations, and so neither is able to provide anything but a characterization of the phenomenon.
Scholars of the Near East have suggested that the translation of gods’ names may be compared to the earlier Mesopotamian practice of listing divine names in one language (e. g., Sumerian) along with their equivalents in another language (e. g., Akkadian, Hurrian, Kassite, Hittite, Elamite) and brief descriptions of their function (Civil 1995:2312). Listings such as ‘‘An = Anum" and ‘‘An = Anum sa ameli’’ are typically discussed in this context. The lexical practice is sometimes described as having its origins in international law, specifically the need to invoke gods of equal rank in oaths (Assmann 2004:24-5). The custom is attested in sacred narratives as well. We find it in the biblical story of Abraham, who swears an oath to the Caananite king of Salem in the name of‘‘Yahweh-El Most High,’’ as opposed to the king’s ‘‘El Most High’’ (Genesis 14:19-23).
Nevertheless, we cannot attribute this purpose to all divine synonym lists, because some of them offer linguistic equivalents for Sumerian divine names at a time when Sumerian was no longer spoken (e. g., ‘‘An = Anum" dates to 1300-1100 BC). Thus, it hardly could have represented contemporary ritual practice among the population. In addition, many of the gods of Mesopotamia had long borne multiple names. In some cases this makes it difficult to tell if the lists are simply providing a roster of a god's lesser-known names. Moreover the various lists had very different purposes and histories. ‘‘An = Anum" for example, serves to codify the known divine names in conjunction with contemporary knowledge and to map out their genealogical relationships to other gods, whereas the shorter list ‘‘Anu = Anum sa ameli ’’ not only associates gods of similar function, it absorbs minor gods into major ones. It also associates a number of important gods of long standing (e. g., Enlil, Sin, and Nabti) with the newly promoted Babylonian god Marduk (as it does also with Ea), thus making them subordinate to him (Lambert 1975). The lists, therefore, serve not simply to equate or even to codify, but also to establish a quasi-henotheistic divine order that was promulgated by the royal house. The lists are documents of political as much as religious import. Nevertheless, their comparative value for understanding the hellenistic practice of interpretatio is limited.
Another way of explaining the hellenistic practice of interpretatio has been to compare it with the Egyptian custom of joining divine names such as Amun-Re or Re-Harakhty. Yet this also is not exactly a parallel practice because the names do not represent translations. Neither of the Egyptian deities comprising joint names was regarded as foreign, and despite appearances, no ‘‘hybridity’ ’ is implied. Each deity retained its individuality; the first name stood for a god with ‘‘cultic/local dimension, ’ ’ the second for the ‘‘cosmic ’ ’ or ‘‘translocal’ ’ manifestation of that god (Assmann 2004:25). Therefore, while the Egyptian practice may shed light on the phenomenon of dual divine names such as Yahweh-Elohim in Genesis 2-3 or Kothar-wa-Hasis at Ugarit (cf. Xella 1990), it does little to help us understand the process of interpretatio.
Moreover, a good deal of evidence suggests that peoples of the Near East understood their own gods to be distinct from those in other lands. The Hittites in particular resisted efforts to equate their own gods with those of others, even though they deliberately imported gods into their pantheon from elsewhere. As a result the members of their pantheon grew in number until the Hittites themselves referred to their pantheon as containing ‘‘thousands of gods.’ ’ Their god-lists name numerous divinities, but keep their places of origin distinct. The few instances in which the lists make apparent equations between one god and another have been shown to represent state efforts to bolster Hurrian elements in the Hittite pantheon (Collins 2004).
The peoples of the Near East not only regarded their own gods as distinct but also those of their neighbors. Thus when the Hittite king Murshili II (ca. 1350 BC) suffered a medical attack that resulted in an inability to speak, his priests suggested that he summon the gods of Lesbos and Mycenae to heal him (Morris 2001:428). Compare 2 Kings 1, where Ahaziah seeks help from Baal, and 2 Kings 5, where Naaman seeks help from Yahweh. In addition, an accompanying oracle asserts that these gods were to be worshiped in accordance with their native customs (Bachvarova forthcoming). Certainly, had such equations been possible, Murshili II could have requested the help of a deity with similar skills from his own pantheon.
Greek speakers similarly respected the power of foreign deities in their native lands. They also appear to have maintained the individuality of their own gods on foreign soil even though several of their own gods (e. g., Adonis, Aphrodite, Apollo, Meter) appear to have foreign origins (Burkert 1985:176-9). Discoveries dating to the hellenistic period give additional evidence for the individuality of foreign deities even in the Greek-speaking world. An altar found on the island of Kos, inscribed in both Greek and Aramaic, is dedicated to Bel, the god of Palmyra. Similarly, a bilingual Greek and Phoenician inscription found at the Piraeus in Athens is dedicated to Nergal. Greek ‘‘magical’’ papyri dating to the Roman period also invoke numerous Egyptian, Levantine, and Mesopotamian gods individually by name, regardless of whether they accord them similar status. Therefore, despite the existence of god-lists and hyphenated divine names, evidence suggests that Aegean and Near Eastern gods continued to maintain their individuality.
Even if we accept the proposed parallels as explanations for the hellenistic practice, the issue of shared taxonomy remains. We do not know what criteria Hellenes considered when linking their native gods to non-native names. Was it their perceived functions, attributes, cosmological associations, or their relative ranks in their respective pantheons? Would such equations have functioned also in Aegean lands? And if so, why were Hellenes drawn to the worship of foreign gods (e. g., Isis, Horus, Osiris) on their own soil? Was it because they were not tied to the economic and nationalistic interests of the Aegean city-states in which they took root? And how did such ‘‘translations’’ account for local variations within pantheons? Exactly whose pantheon was being equated? Near East divine hierarchies often significantly differed from locale to locale and from one era to another. Even when gods of the same name were worshiped in different places (e. g., Baal/Bel or Ishtar/Astarte) their cults and relationships to their pantheons could be very different. Thus at Sidon, the goddess Astarte was paired with Eshmun, at Tyre she was Melqart’s wife, but at Carthage Baal-Hamon was coupled with Tinit. Such local variations underscore the difficulties that must have been present already in antiquity with making clear equations between Aegean and Near Eastern deities.
The practice of interpretatio offers just one demonstration of the difficulties scholars face when trying to ascertain the preconditions that make the transmission of religious ideas possible. These difficulties are only compounded when we consider that every element that entered Aegean religion from the Near East must have been facilitated by its own set of social, economic, political, and historical preconditions.
World History
