Tag: ancient history

The Lesson of Odysseus – The Essential Political Problem


11.02.2018

Today, I want to write a short note about a perennial political problem which I see as troubling every culture in history. Every culture has had to respond to this political problem which is why I see it as the essential one. This problem has catastrophic effects and has enabled every form of injustice, despotism and evil in the world of mankind. The problem is that of the individual that separates himself or herself from the political realm and fails to uphold their obligations to the rest of the human race. This individual retreats into the domestic realm, like a caterpillar in its cocoon, closed off from reality and society.

The issue is addressed in the story of the feigned madness of Odysseus, one of the episodes in the story of the Greek and Trojan war. The context of the madness is important. Helen was the most beautiful woman in the world and there was much rivalry between different suitors as to who would marry her:

The gathered Suitors of Helen represented all of the most powerful kingdoms of Ancient Greece and many were regarded as the best warriors of the day.

Each Suitor brought with them gifts, but Tyndareus quickly realised he was in an impossible position for choosing one suitor over the others would lead to bloodshed between them, and a great deal of animosity between the different Greek states. (http://www.greeklegendsandmyths.com/the-oath-of-tyndareus.h… )

The intense rivalry for Helen’s affections therefore transcended the domestic sphere of marriage and courtship and had entered the field of politics. It could lead to war between competing states.

The story goes on:

Odysseus told Tyndareus that the king should extract from each suitor an oath that they would protect and defend whichever Suitor of Helen was chosen. No hero of note would break such an oath, and even if someone did, then they would have to face the force of the other Suitors who were bound to protect Helen’s husband.

Tyndareus put forth Odysseus’ plan, and each Suitor took the Oath of Tyndareus, with the sacred promise, and the oath was bound when Tyndareus sacrificed a horse (http://www.greeklegendsandmyths.com/the-oath-of-tyndareus.h… ).

Odysseus, as one of the suitors, had promised himself politically to Menelaus. This was an obligation between political parties, not just individuals, as the suitors of Helen had to be suitably powerful. The reason that all had sworn the oath was to preserve peace and the honour and integrity of each of the suitors so that none would feel dishonoured.

The feigned madness of Odysseus is set against the background of this political promise and is presented as Odysseus’s dereliction of duty. As is outlined in Cambridge University’s Classical Tales on the internet:

The famous incident of the feigned madness of Odysseus is not mentioned in Homer’s Odyssey. Its fullest classical treatment is given by the Roman author Hyginus (1st-2nd century AD) in his mythological handbook Fabulae (ch.95): 
“Odysseus had received an oracle warning him that if he went to Troy, he would return home after twenty years, alone, destitute and having lost his men. And so when he found out that an embassy was on the way to him, he pretended to be crazy by putting on a felt hat [i.e. looking like a peasant] and yoking a horse and a bull together to a plough…[their different strides would make ploughing almost impossible]. When Palamedes saw him, he sensed that he was faking it, so he took Odysseus’ son Telemachus from the cradle and put him in front of the plough, saying “Put aside your trickery and join the others…”. [Odysseus of course stopped the plough from cutting his son so revealing his sanity]. Odysseus promised he would go to Troy.” (http://classictales.educ.cam.ac.uk/…/ep…/weblinks/index.html )

One can note from this description of the madness how it symbolised a retreat into the domestic realm away from the political realm. Firstly, Odysseus puts on a felt hat to look like a peasant. A peasant seems like the radical alternative to a noble and honourable, prestigious and politically powerfully agent. The peasant is only involved in the agricultural economy, not in questions of politics. A peasant is not a warrior, but a worker. Indeed, the feigned madness of Odysseus emphasised that he was not even a fit peasant and a fit worker since he made ploughing impossible in coupling the two different animals to a plough.

While the details may differ, the story of Odysseus’s feigned madness shows the common strategy that all people have used since time immemorial to duck their obligations to society and others. They see themselves as “common people” that are unconcerned with politics even though we all have rights and responsibilities towards humanity and the planet. Odysseus’s actions are an attempt to slide out of the duty to maintain peace and to uphold the honour and integrity of each individual, as well as the sacred institution of marriage. Such people as Odysseus say that they are entitled to a “normal” existence and no obligations to others. They think and believe that the domestic sphere is not political, a realm removed, a realm that can never be infiltrated by politics. They know that fighting is hard and takes time and effort and they wish to have no part of it. They think that others can fight all the battles and wars of this existence. They don’t want to put their lives on the line for others or to contribute to the ideals of honour and justice which are the highest values of any society. These entitled individuals, like our contemporary Englishmen, who feed like voracious animals off the resources of the whole planet and the naked poor, while paying a small and contemptuous pittance for the pleasure of it, believe that they are immune from the claims and entitlements of society and others. They do not believe in self-denial and sacrifice, hardship and suffering. They believe that they are exempt from suffering and the chain of being.

In the story quoted above, Odysseus is brought to his senses by one thing and one thing only. He is confronted with the destruction of his son and his lineage who is put in front of the plough. And this is the response that every culture has given to the selfish individual who won’t upload the sacred ideals and values of his society, the selfish cocooned individual that won’t suffer to maintain honour and the peace. They are told what the future will be if they do not contribute: the extinction of their line and their way of life, the death of the future. For the political sphere insists that the domestic sphere is inseparable from it: this is why Odysseus is confronted by a political actor with the death and destruction of his baby. Odysseus’s duty as a parent is inseparable from his duty as a political actor.

In the Ancient Greek story, which is, after all, a work of the imagination, Odysseus heeds the response of his society and, indeed, his betters. However, the contemporary man or woman neither cares for the future nor for his line. This individual still believes in the separation of the domestic and the political sphere. This individual does not believe that politics is everywhere. One sees such individuals on social media. They proclaim that they are tired of politics and want to retreat into the fields of art and literature, film and music. They find politics boring without stopping to think that the world trade which supports their leech-like existence is premised on the domination of the strong over the weak, those that have over those that don’t. Such noxious individuals don’t care about global problems like climate change and pollution which are the direct result of their excessive consumption and their evil practices in relation to the earth’s resources or the effect that they will have on their children. Such individuals do not feign the madness of Odysseus: they are truly mad. How does one put the child in front of the plough for these people? This is the perennial and the essential political problem.

Blindness, Vision and Fury: The Trojan Horse, the Mahabharata and the Clash of Visual Cultures

28.01.2018

One day, after having arrived back to England and our home from a trip to India, my mother dressed me and my two brothers up in brown kurtas and pyjamas. She then adorned our foreheads with vermillion, put crowns upon our heads and handed us each a bow and an arrow. We sat there, waiting to strike our enemies with our keen eyes. There is a photograph in the family album which bears witness to the event. There were various motivations behind this re-enactment. We watched the Mahabharata religiously every week on the Indian morning on British TV. The characters in the epic were our heroes. It was the love of my Indian mother for her children that led her to see us as those inspirational warriors in the Mahabharata and as princes. It was the uncanny intuition of an Indian mother that we were in an invisible war and were to fight an invisible enemy. This intuition, compelled by instinct and knowledge beyond comprehension, was absolutely correct.

Let us not start with the Mahabharata, however, for we will return to this great work and I will explain why my Indian mother was correct in her intuition. Let us start with the Iliad by Homer, a work with which my Western audience will have much greater familiarity, I hope. The Iliad, it is somewhat apparent, is about beauty and its destructive force. The most obvious subject of the work is therefore beauty and its relationship to vision. The Trojans take off with the most beautiful woman in the world, called Helen (which means “Greek”). However, Helen belongs to the Greeks. They feel they have the monopoly on beauty. They punish what they call the abduction of Helen, although it is clear that Helen elopes with the supposed culprit of her own volition, to bring the greatest beauty in the world to Troy.

How do the Greeks beat the Trojans in the contest of beauty? Famously, it is the Trojan horse stratagem that wins the war for them. The Greeks hide inside the Trojan horse which is presented as a gift to the Trojans. Through hiding, they enter the city at night and then massacre all of the Trojans in an ancient genocide. But have you ever considered carefully how the Trojan horse is related to vision in this epic about beauty and the contest to possess it? Let us take a little time to do so now.

The Trojan horse stratagem works through concealment, invisibility and blindness. The Greeks hide inside the Trojan horse, concealing their identities. They are invisible. They present the Trojan horse as a gift when in fact it is more akin to a curse, the reverse of a gift. They thus conceal the meaning of what the Trojan horse is and do not allow it to be seen for what it literally is. The Greeks therefore institute blindness on several levels: the Trojans can neither see the horse for what it is nor can they detect that their enemies are concealed inside it. The Trojans become blind. However, it is not just the Trojans who are blind. Everyone is blind. The Greeks hiding inside the horse cannot see the outside world. They sit in darkness. They are abstracted from the outside world.

The Trojan horse is the product of a Greek and Western culture in which what is considered valuable is not external appearance, but what is conceived of as hidden deep inside things, their essences. The Trojans are considered foolish because they look at external appearance and do not go deeply into the essences of things, the inside. This is regarded as their fatal weakness. This simple idea, that external appearances are deceptive is the founding tenet of Western civilisation and its supposed truth. It is the mark of the Western visual culture in which our thinkers state that the externally visible world does not exist, just as the Greeks blindly sit in the belly of the horse, doing away with the vision of the world. It therefore becomes clear why Helen is castigated for her very beauty, our heaven on earth. The external beauty of persons and their visual appearance are at odds with the idea of essences and internal value. External appearance, which is associated with the body of Helen, the body of a female, in a particularly misogynistic manner, can only be destructive in this world view: it destroys both the Greeks who fight for Helen and the Trojans who are misled by the external appearance of Helen and the Trojan horse. Yet the Greeks are thought to surmount the external appearance of things and finally win. They are not the victims of a genocide.

 The Iliad is from the 8th Century B.C.E. The Mahabharata is written in roughly the same period and I contend that it responds to the visual culture of the Greeks. The Mahabharata is not about conquering a people and subsequent genocide. It is about a family reclaiming what is rightfully theirs. The people that dispossess the princes in the epic are the sons of a blind king that greedily wish to hold onto their power. They represent the blind. Let us focus on the way that the war is won in the Mahabharata and how it is related to vision. I believe that there are two important scenes.

The first scene is the killing of the implacable enemy Duryodhana. Duryodhana’s mother had blessed him so that he was invincible. She was living a blindfolded life so that she could be the same as her husband. However, she took off her blindfold to grant her son invincibility with her vision which had lain dormant all those years it had not been used. Duryodhana, however, was ashamed to reveal his body to his mother and wore a loin cloth so that he would not appear fully naked before her. His nether regions were therefore not protected by vision but were invisible to his mother’s gaze, concealed. He therefore insisted on his mother’s partial blindness. Bhima killed Duryodhana because of this very insistence on the blindness of a mother. Bhima struck Duryodhana below the waist at his weak point. Thus, Bhima destroyed the way of the blind, the way of invisibility and concealment. It was where the world was concealed in the genitals of his opponent that he knew he could gain the victory and deliver the death stroke. The concealing of the body, world and nature is always wrong.

A prior scene reveals the ethic of the Mahabharata and its idea of vision and power, which is that war is to be fought openly, without concealment. This scene also reveals why Duryodhana’s inflicting of blindness on his mother is seen as a terrible sin and why the misogynistic Iliad, which castigates female beauty, is so wrong. This is because the Mahabharata celebrates the vision of the woman’s body. One of the other prominently invincible foes of the dispossessed princes was Bhishma. Bishma had once caused a woman to lose her lover and she had vowed to be reincarnated so as to kill him. She came back as a man, but Bishma knew that she was a woman. The man/woman Sihandhi was used as a shield so that Bhishma could not attack as it was against his warrior code of honour to attack a woman. So long as the vision of woman was before him, Bhishma was powerless and could not fight for the sons of the blind king, the party of the blind. Blindness was defeated by the sight and the form of a woman. Instead of hiding and concealing themselves, therefore, and attacking by cowardly stealth, the princes won the battle by putting themselves behind woman and using her as their shield and weapon of utmost power. It was the form of a woman which won the battle for them. The form of a woman did not cause destruction, but gave them back their kingdom. They immersed themselves in the vision and feeling of a woman to revenge herself on the man who wronged her. The princes’ fight against the wrong that has been done to them is therefore in parallel with the wrong that has been done to women. Their invincible enemies fall because they have wronged women and those who have been put into the position of women: in the weaker position. This is a direct response to the misogyny of the blind who can only see a woman’s body and vision in negative terms. It is a response to a Western culture in which women, like Helen are to be won as objects of status. In the Mahabharata, woman is not to be won. Woman is to win.

The vision and intuition of an Indian mother puts me firmly in the grounds of the Mahabharata. Yet my location in this Western society has aimed terribly to seduce me into the path of misogyny, concealment and blindness. In the past, I have truly made errors of judgement and of feeling but I wish to free myself of that horrible past. I put before my eyes the beautiful vision of a woman’s body and I remember the goddess. As I have very briefly noted here, the clash of visual cultures is thousands upon thousands of years old and it is fighting in my breast today. I am continuing the fight because I remember the day when my mother saw me as one of the great warriors in the Mahabharata. It is not easy. There is a new challenge every day. My basic Ancient Greek and ignorance of Sanskrit stand in my way, certainly. However, I continue the war in my analysis of the relationship between law and photography in English fiction from the mid-nineteenth century because the language of my thought has been in English. I have no platform, no network, very little audience. I am one son of Mother India in a world of foreigners and strangers. Yet I ask those that do read my writing to question their own place in this great and invisible war with an invisible enemy and ask themselves whether they would be the children of India or the children of the Ancient Greeks. That, I argue, is the essential question.