Thoth was among the most diverse and popular of all the Egyptian
gods. Like many of his colleagues he was a composite, even an
accumulation, rather than a figure cast whole and unambiguously
defined. In particular, Thoth was regarded even in the most
primitive period as the moon-god; and from this lunar association
arose many of his most distinctive functions. Just as the moon is
illuminated by the sun, so Thoth derived much of his authority
from being secretary and counselor to the solar divinity Re. The
moon, 'ruler of the stars, distinguishes seasons, months and
years'; and so Thoth became the lord and multiplier of time, and
the regulator of individual destines. Indeed, so important were
the moon's phases in determining the rhythms of Egyptian life,
that Thoth became regarded as the origin both of cosmic order and
of religious and civil institutions. He presided over almost every
aspect of the temple cults, law and the civil year, and in
particular over the sacred rituals, texts and formulas, and the
magic arts that were so closely related. To him, as divine scribe,
inventor of writing and lord of wisdom, the priesthood attributed
much of its sacred literature, including, for example, parts of
the Book of the Dead. Of occult powers latent in all aspects of
the cult of the gods, Thoth was the acknowledged source. By
extension he became regarded as the lord of knowledge, language
and all science-even as Understanding or Reason personified.
Esoteric wisdom was his special preserve, and he was called 'the
Mysterious,' 'the Unknown.' His magical powers made of him a
doctor too; and when the body finally succumbed to mortality, it
was Thoth who conducted the dead person to the kingdom of the
gods, and sat in judgment on his soul. However, it was at
Hermoupolis Magna, the main center of his cult, that Thoth
attained the pinnacle of his glory-indeed, his distinctly
Hermoupolitan character was recognized throughout Egypt. Naturally
enough his clergy were eager to aggrandize their patron; and the
obvious way to do so was through the development of a distinct
cosmogony, Hermoupolis being widely regarded as the oldest place
on earth. So it was that Thoth acquired a leading role in the
drama of creation itself, as a demiurge who called things into
being merely by the sound of his voice. Besides the common near
Eastern idea that speech has creative power, we can surely detect
here the influence of Thoth the god of Magic.
Perhaps, though, it was to be his role as guide of souls and judge
of the dead that Thoth most owed his popularity with ordinary
people. He continued to inspire strong popular devotion throughout
the Ptolemaic and Roman periods. His was an inescapable presence;
and it is easy to see why foreign settlers in Egypt were tempted
to try to establish some sort of link with him. The second-century
BCE Jewish romancer Artapanus, for instance, wrote an account of
the life of Moses in which he assimilated his hero to 'Hermes'
(i.e. Thoth), making him responsible for introducing the Egyptians
to ships, machines, weapons, and philosophy; for dividing the
country up into nomes, each with its own divine patron; for
inventing the hieroglyphs; and for assigning lands of their own to
the priests. And the Greek settlers, also, identified Thoth with
their god Hermes. Like Thoth the classical Hermes was associated
with the moon, medicine and the realm of the dead. Furthermore,
both had a reputation for inventiveness and trickery, and both
functioned as messenger of the gods, which in Hermes's case
prepared him as well for his characteristic function in the
Hellenistic period, as the logos or 'word', the interpreter of the
divine will to humanity. This Hellenistic Hermes-logos was a
thoroughly cosmopolitan divinity: The Lycaonians, who were
sufficiently un-Hellenized to have retained their native language,
had no difficulty in recognizing the apostle Paul as Hermes come
down to earth, 'because he was the chief speaker.' The Stoics
assigned Hermes a still more central role in their theology,
magnifying his function from the merely expressive to the
creative, and regarding him as both logos and demiurge. It may
even be that this development owed something to the Egyptian
understanding of Thoth as creator.
Hermes Trismegistus, then, was the cosmopolitan, Hellenistic
Hermes, Egyptianized through his assimilation to Thoth, and in
fact known throughout the Roman world as 'the Egyptian' par
excellence. To some extent this intermingling of Egyptian and
Greek theology and Hellenistic philosophy produced a sum that was
greater than its parts, a divinity who could deservedly be placed
among the dei magni of the pagan pantheon that presided over the
Roman world. Yet around and within the Egyptian Hermes there
persisted serious tensions, mirroring the peculiarities of the
Graeco-Egyptain mileu that had produced him.
In the beginning it had no doubt seemed enough to say that the
Greek god Hermes was equivalent to the Egyptian god Thoth, and
leave it at that. But the temptation to provide a mythological
explanation could not be resisted forever; and that was one of the
reasons why Cicero was eventually able to enumerate no less than
five individuals who claimed the name Hermes, the third being the
familiar offspring of Zeus and Maia, while the fifth, who is
worshipped by the people of Pheneus [in Arcadia?], is said to have
killed Argus, and for this reason to have fled to Egypt, and to
have given the Egyptians their laws and alphabet-he it is whom the
Egyptians call Theyn [Thoth]. In other words, the story that was
produced-and widely circulated-to explain the emergence of Hermes
Trismegistus invoked a relatively human Hermes who was recognized
to be distinct from the messenger of the gods. So it is not
surprising to find that people of Greek culture did not always
envisage Trismegistus in the same terms as did those of a more
Egyptian background.
It is in the Greek magical papyri, rather than in the Hermetica,
that we most clearly discern the lineaments of Hermes
Trismegistus, and that the Egyptian aspects of his identity are
given the fullest rein. In a country as renowned for its magic as
was Egypt, that was only to be expected. The Papyri presents the
new syncretistic Hermes as a cosmic power, creator of Heaven and
earth and almighty world-ruler. Presiding over fate and justice,
he is also lord of the night, and of death and its mysterious
aftermath-hence his frequent association with the moon (Selene)
and Hecate. He knows 'all that is hidden under the heavenly vault,
and beneath the earth', and is accordingly much revered as a
sender of oracles-many of the magical spells that are addressed to
Hermes aim to elicit arcane information, frequently by inducing
the god to appear in a dream. In this capacity, Hermes often
becomes involved in the minutiae of his devotees' everyday
existence. The Hermes of the magical papyri is a cosmic deity, but
one who may also dwell within the heart of individuals; and the
magician often assumes towards him a tone of intimacy shading off
into self-identification. One magical invocation begins: 'come to
me, Lord Hermes, as fetuses into the wombs of women'; and after a
shopping-list of gifts that the god is supposed to bestow, ends
with the assertion that: 'I know you Hermes, and you know me. I am
you and you are me.' On occasion the magician might even
impersonate Thoth-Hermes (or any other god) to put pressure on one
of his divine colleagues. This self-identification with a god,
common in the magical papyri, is an authentically Egyptian trait.
It highlights both the variety of the magician's approach to his
gods, and the persistence of Egyptian ways of thought.
The
traditional Greek Hermes, clad in chlamys and winged hat and
sandals, is not unknown to the magical papyri, but the
autochthonous Thoth is commoner; and if Hermes succeded in
becoming a dynamic element in Graeco-Egyptain popular religion, it
was largely thanks to his alliance with his native counterpart,
which allowed him to be thought of as more Egyptian than Greek. At
first Hermes Egyptianized by translating, either literally or
metaphorically, the attributes of Thoth. One can see this in his
titulature, as well as the celebration of the Hermaea that came to
coincide exactly with one of the major festivals of Thoth. With
time, naturally enough, this carefulness bred of unfamiliarity
came to seem less necessary. As far as Hermes was concerned, the
popularity of his cult at Hermoupolis must have contributed a
great deal to the dissolving of cultural barriers and the
evolution of the composite Hermes Trismegistus of late antiquity.
We can see the same process at work in the centuries-long
accumulation of pious inscriptions and graffiti left by pilgrims
Egyptian, Greek and Roman of all stations of life, at the temple
of Thoth-Hermes Paotnouphis at Pselchis (al-Dakka) on the Nubian
frontier; and in a mid-third-century soldier's votive inscription
at Panopolis to 'the Great god Hermes Trismegistus'. By the later
Roman period there had emerged a koine of Graeco-Egyptain
religious discourse; and of this koine Hermes Trismegistus
was a central constituent. But, for all that, the native Thoth as
never wholly absorbed. He was too commanding a figure. Even in the
Greek literary milieu there were those prepared to take the line
of least resistance and propagate a version of Trismegistus that
was scarcely Hellenized at all except in name. Cyril of Alexander
quotes a good example of this approach from a Hermetic text that
he says was composed at Athens. The author presents 'our Hermes as
seen through the eyes of an Egyptian priest.
He is an adept of the temple cults, a law-giver and an authority
on astronomy, astrology, botany, mathematics, geometry, the arts
and grammar. He it was who divided the country into nomes and
other units, measured it, cut irrigation canals and established
the exchange of contracts. In short, the anonymous Athenian
Hermetist depicts Hermes in the same unmistakably Egyptian terms
as those in which Artapanus had envisaged Moses. However, most of
those who looked at things from a Greek point of view had a rather
different image of Hermes Trismegistus, which to some extent
played down specifically Egyptian elements and assumed that, in
origin at least, Hermes had been human.
After all, Plato had queried whether even Thoth was a god or just
a divine man.[99] Ammianus Marcellinus mentions Trismegistus,
alongside Appollonius of Tyana and Plotinus, as an example o a
human endowed with a particularly strong guardian spirit; and it
is usually in human or at most heroic company that Hermes appears
when cited as one of a string of authorities by late antiquity
writers. So too in the philosophical Hermetica. Hermes is a mortal
who received revelations from the divine world and eventually
himself achieves immortality through self-purification, but
remains among men in order to unveil to them the secrets of the
divine world. It is significant how many of the philosophical
Hermetica are presented in epistolary or dialogue form. In this
way the Hermetist, while preserving the divine and revelatory
character of his doctrines, imparts to their expositions a certain
air of historical reality, stirring in his audience, perhaps,
echoes of Socrates and his circle as depicted in the Platonic
dialogues.
Yet if once Hermes had been mortal, that had been in remote
antiquity, and he had long since been assumed into the company of
the gods. The technical Hermetica are studiously vague, usually
envisaging Trismegistus as a sage who lived at a remote period and
conversed freely with the gods, though on occasion they speak of
him as a divine being. The Kore kosmou, which Stobaeus included in
his selection of Hermetic philosophical texts for his Anthologium,
but which was considerably influenced by technical Hermetism,
treats Hermes straightforwardly as a god, and surrounds him with
an unashamedly mythological narrative. The figure of Thoth, the
divine author of the Egyptian temple literature, lurks only just
below the surface of the Kore's Hermes, all-knowing revealer of
wisdom to humanity-and in general Egyptian ideas are particularly
prominent in this text.
The ambiguity of a figure who hovered between the divine and human
worlds will have struck many as an advantage and attraction. Late
paganism cultivated with enthusiasm such figures as Heracles,
Dionysus, Asclepius and Orpheus. Hermes was one more of these
intermediaries, who were much in demand in a world increasingly
fascinated by the transcendental quality of the divine. But not
everybody relished such ambiguities. Just as what seemed to some
the simplistic identification of Hermes with Thoth was eventually
'explained', so too the tension in Trismegistus's character
between the venerable and remote figure of Thoth and the more
human Hermes of the Greeks had to be accounted for, if only to
clear up the doubts of those who, like the Christian writer
Lactantius, were not sure whether to treat the Hermetic books as
divine revelation or human speculation. So at some point the
Hermetists began to propagate the idea that there had been two
Egyptian Hermes, grandfather and grandson. In the Perfect
Discourse (Asclepius), Hermes Trismegistus refers to the tomb of
his grandfather and namesake Hermes in Hermoupolis, 'the city
where he was born (patria) and which is named after him'.[106]
Clearly the author envisages Hermes I as identical with Thoth-and
the Egyptians were indeed used to the idea that gods might be born
and then die, not in the euhemeristic sense, but as part of a
perpetual process of regeneration. The identification is made
explicit in a passage from a text attributed to the early
Ptolemaic priest and historian Manetho, but certainly of a much
later date, in which reference is made to 'stelae inscribed in the
sacred languages and with hieroglyphic characters by Thoth, the
first Hermes'. Who was his grandson, the second Hermes?
The Hermetists, while insisting that their compositions had indeed
been written in Egyptian, and inscribed on stelae in hieroglyphic
characters, were also well aware that they could not have been
rendered into Greek without losing the authority that attached to
sacred texts in the native language-'for the very quality of the
sounds and the [intonation] of the Egyptian words contain in
itself the force of the things said'. A translation would require,
at the very least, the active assistance of the priestly guardians
of the originals. Iamblichus, for example, records that an
Egyptian priest named Bitys was supposed to have translated some
of the hieroglyphic texts of Thoth into Greek, and had made use of
(Greek) philosophical vocabulary in doing so. These texts Bitys
had found 'in temples at Sais in Egypt', which of course is where
Solon was supposed to have encountered Egyptian priests more
learned in the history of Greece than any Greek, and to have
translated parts of their archives. Iamblichus also tells us that
Pythagoras and Plato, during their visits to Egypt, 'read through'
the stelae of Hermes with the help of native priests. Whether
these stories are true is not important for this discussion. What
is important is first, that the Hermetists wished it to be
believed that their compositions were books of Thoth rendered from
Egyptian into Greek; and secondly that the legitimacy and prestige
of these books depended on the finding of a plausible explanation
of how this translation had been brought about. Hence the last
twist in the evolution of the myth of the Egyptian Hermes, namely
the presentation of none other than Hermes the younger as the
translator of the Thoth texts. At any rate, this appears to be the
idea underlying the obscure and corrupt pseudo-Manetho passage
already mentioned. After referring to the hieroglyphic texts
inscribed by Thoth, the first Hermes, pseudo-Manetho goes on to
assert that 'after the Flood they were translated from the sacred
language into Greek, and deposited in books in the sanctuaries of
Egyptian temples by the second Hermes, the son of Agathos Daimon
and father of Tat. That the Thoth-literature was believed to have
been rendered into Greek at such an early date has struck modern
scholars as so improbable that they have emended the passage.
However, Plato had spoken of the translation of Greek records into
Egyptian after the deluge(s); and anyway this was exactly the sort
of claim that Hermetists had to make if they were to overcome the
well-known inadequacies of translations from Egyptian into Greek.
Thus the two Hermes in the Asclepius now stand revealed as
separate embodiments of the divine Egyptian and more human Greek
dimensions of the composite deity Hermes Trismegistus. This not
only provided a mythological explanation and sanction for the
existence of a Hermetic literature in Greek, rather than in the
sacred tongue of Egypt, but also left the Greek Hermes flexible
enough to play his traditional role of intermediary between God
and men.
|