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Myth and Politics in Ancient Near Eastern Historiography

Mario Liverani
(Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 2004) 214 pp., $75

We moderns tend to think of history as evolving from pristine ignorance to ever-increasing sophistication. Consciously or not, this way of thinking is often extended to areas that have nothing to do with advances in knowledge or technology. Christianity and other contemporary religions, for example, are widely seen as superior to “primitive” systems of belief, from which they are commonly thought to have evolved. This habit of thought often causes us to underestimate ancient cultures.

Nor is this attitude limited to innocent laymen. Sad to say, it is regrettably common among academics. All too often scholars read ancient texts naively at face value, without stopping to ask, Why, and by whom, were these texts written?

In Myth and Politics in Ancient Near Eastern Historiography, the renowned Italian historian Mario Liverani shows clearly that underestimating the sophistication of ancient writings is a grave mistake, particularly when political and religious texts are in question. In eight fascinating essays that read like detective stories, Liverani dissects a variety of documents from the late second and early first millennium B.C.E.—a Mesopotamian myth, a Hittite edict and treaty, a royal autobiography, letters to an Egyptian pharaoh from two vassal kings, and two episodes from the Old Testament—laying bare unexpected levels of meaning buried under their seemingly simple “formal messages.”

These layers of meaning emerge from a combination of factors: among them, the narrative structure of texts, comparison with other contemporary documents, political contexts, the personal situation of writers, and nuances of language. Often, messages that today appear to be hidden in texts would have been obvious to ancient readers. For example, an inscription recording a meeting between the king of Kizzuwatna, in south-central Anatolia, with the king of the Hittites states that the Kizzuwatna king Shunashura “goes to the presence of the Sun.” The message was certainly clear to the ancients: Whereas one “goes to” a person of equal or lower rank, one “goes to the presence of” a person of higher rank, which suggests that Kizzuwatna was a vassal of the Hittite kingdom.

But ancient authors did not always strive for such transparency. In some instances, the genuine “deep message” appears to have been purposely hidden in the text and left for the reader to discover with the help of scattered clues. Sometimes ancient writers clearly did their best to mislead readers into taking a cleverly fabricated story for uncontaminated truth. Liverani shows, for example, that the historical introductions to Hittite treaties, praised by many historians as unbiased, concrete and impartial, frequently “conceal true events and … fabricate others.” Ancient kings and their scribes were always trying to “spin” treaties, contracts and letters for their own protection. Whatever the case, Liverani forces us to realize that these texts seem “primitive” only because of our own ignorance and gullibility.

Such a close reading of the texts turns many things upside down, and demonstrates the dangers inherent in uncritical use of ancient sources. 046Some historical figures traditionally regarded as “good guys”—such as the late-16th-century B.C. Hittite king Telepinu or the early eighth-century B.C. biblical high priest Jehoiada—turn out to have been cunning liars and selfish upstarts. Under the merciless beam of Liverani’s analysis, we watch as power-hungry, ruthless usurpers present themselves to their co-citizens as pious, god-sent saviors and liberators; employ henchmen to eliminate their opponents in cold blood, and then exonerate themselves by claiming ignorance of the act or absence from the scene of crime; and rally public support by offering short-term economic rewards and inventing threats from outside. We watch as tyrants go to war against invented enemies (painted in the worst possible light), masking a ruthless and vainglorious desire for expansion.

Seeing how routinely and cunningly ancient writers manipulated facts and political realities to their own advantage, we should be reminded always to be on guard in assessing not only ancient political documents but modern ones as well. Attentive readers of Myth and Politics in Ancient Near Eastern Historiography are sure to get, if not immunity from, at least protection against, the methods, rhetoric and tricks of modern political propaganda, which has not changed fundamentally in 3,500 years.

While most chapters of the book deal with matters of political history, its scope and significance are much wider. Liverani calls attention to social, religious and mythological themes employed to further the hidden agenda of the writers, but which also reveal much about the writers 048themselves and their religious beliefs and social values. Thus the book is also an important contribution to the study of ancient Near Eastern religion and society. Two themes in particular stand out in the discussion: the Triumphant Savior-Prince who returns to his father’s kingdom after a test of valor, and the Righteous Sufferer. Both of these themes—which clearly underlie later forms of messianism—were already prominent in third-millennium B.C.E. Mesopotamia. Later rulers and other political or religious figures could draw on these “myths,” which, ironically, lent the figures authenticity and helped them drum up support.

This is an excellent book that can be recommended to a broad audience. It should be essential reading for every Assyriologist and specialist of the ancient Near East, but anybody interested in ancient history, politics and religion could also read it with profit and enjoyment. The book’s essays were originally written in Italian and published in scholarly journals, and the author and the editors deserve great thanks for making them available in this elegant and thoroughly updated English edition.

Myth and Politics in Ancient Near Eastern Historiography