In search of the epic
Gilgamesh as Bush, Humbaba as Saddam. Sharif Elmusa* finds new roles for old foes
Discourse in the US on Iraq, at a time when Washington is readying its forces for what could culminate in an invasion of that country, bears an uncanny resemblance to the Mesopotamian epic of Gilgamesh. In the epic Gilgamesh, king of the city of Uruk, wants to log timber from the cedar forest in Lebanon to build a city gate and other structures that will guarantee him immortality. Gilgamesh was an arbitrary ruler. The gods arranged a companion for him, Enkidu, to guide him to the forest. Enkidu, a "primitive" creature, is seduced by a harlot who introduces him to the basics of civilisation -- bread, beer and clothing. After losing a wrestling match to Gilgamesh he submits to the king's authority and they become companions. They venture into the forest where they face off with fearsome Humbaba, guardian of the forest. They behead him, fell the cedars and carry their prizes back. Subsequently Enkidu dies. Gilgamesh mourns him deeply, goes primitive for a while and eventually becomes wiser, accepting both the death of his companion and his own mortality.
If a clear comparison cannot be made between this ambiguous tale and the current US-Iraq crisis the cast of characters, the struggle for control of resources, the representation of the conflict as one between civilisation and darkness, the impulsiveness that comes with power, all invite reflection and remind us about how little progress has been made in restraining aggressive human drives.
Timber in antiquity was the most coveted natural resource. It was used for building temples and palaces and houses, for making furniture, for the construction of boats and for fuel. Now it is oil that is the lifeline of modern technological civilisation. The US is an addicted guzzler of cheap oil and the world's largest consumer. An estimated two-thirds of the world's oil reserves are in the Arabian Peninsula, Iraq and Iran. Oil is at the heart of the US campaign and has been central to its strategic thinking about the region for a long time. It has been lent urgency by the Bush administration's neo-conservative desire to use the war against Iraq to mark America's absolute ascendancy in global affairs.
Mesopotamian campaigns to fetch timber from mountain forests were led by kings, testimony to the importance of the resource. In order to log the cedar trees Gilgamesh had first to overcome Humbaba, the guardian. The epic depicts Humbaba in the most monstrous terms: "His voice is Deluge,/ his speech is fire,/ and his breath is death".
The portrayal of Saddam Hussein by US officials and the mainstream media is no less frightening. He is a terrifying dictator and supporter of terrorism. He possesses weapons of mass destruction and an array of chemical and biological weapons, and is on the verge of completing a nuclear bomb. He manipulated the UN inspectors. He will unleash his stock of lethal armaments against his neighbours and the US, just as he has done against his own people. He intends to dominate the region that is home to the world's oil reserves. This litany was voiced by Vice President Dick Cheney last August in a speech before the Veterans of Foreign Wars.
What is remarkable in both situations is how both Humbaba and Saddam are singled out as individuals. There is no reference in the epic to the larger society that lived in and off the forest. Similarly, we seldom hear of the Iraqis who suffer malnutrition and cultural and material deprivation under an unprecedented regime of sanctions. By reducing the enemy to a single person and demonising him, you deny sympathy to the masses and make of them a legitimate target. The tactic worked in Uruk and is today pretty successful in Peoria.
Humbaba might have been a tribal chief, as ruthless as Saddam. But we never hear the story from Humbaba himself or his tribe -- how they perceived themselves or the distant invader who had come to chop down their forest. And Gilgamesh before the journey was no gentleman. He abused his own subjects "lording it over the menfolk". He placed his trust in unmitigated force, felling both Humbaba and the "lofty cedars".
Bush and his cold warriors seem determined to lord it over weaker countries and peoples, to be the arbiter of good and evil. President Bush, like Gilgamesh, is also no friend of the environment. But whereas Gilgamesh had only an axe Bush "is attacking the environment by land, water, and air" according to Carl Pope, executive director of the Sierra Club, a moderate environmental organisation. He is the commander of an awesome military machine with an arsenal that can annihilate the world many times over. Did his predecessors not back the Iraqi regime when it deployed its feared weapons against the Kurds and Iran?
Gilgamesh could not make the perilous journey to the forest alone because he was unfamiliar with the terrain. The gods sent him Enkidu, a man from the savanna who had already encountered Humbaba. He was socialised in its ways and became the standard bearer of its culture and the native expert, giving council and physical backing to the king and legitimacy to his quest. Is there not a parallel here with the Iraqi opposition -- with how it is represented as a coalition of democrats and its anticipated function in the military campaign, its conferring of legitimacy on US actions? Enkidu was a tragic figure; he found himself in a situation not of his own making, one in which whatever he did was fraught with mortal and political dangers.
The subjugation of Humbaba required the use of raw power. One engraving depicts Enkidu grabbing him and pressing the calf of his leg as the king constrained his foot and "smote him in the neck". When the head of Humbaba fell, the "peaks of Lebanon quaked and the hillsides trembled". Do you not hear the quaking of Baghdad?
We do not know how public opinion in Uruk was divided on the matter. We know, though, that there are millions of people in the US opposed to the militarism of the Bush administration. Their voice was well-represented by former president Jimmy Carter in his recent Nobel speech: "War may sometimes be a necessary evil. But no matter how necessary it is always an evil, never a good. We will not learn to live together in peace by killing each other's children." Carter specifically opposed the idea of pre-emptive strikes: "For powerful countries to adopt a principle of preventive war may well set an example that can have catastrophic consequences."
Gilgamesh did not relent. Only after unforeseen tragedies and soul-searching in the wilderness did he come to appreciate the cost of hubris and accept the limits of human reach. The Mesopotamians wanted their narrative to be a lesson for posterity.
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The writer is director of the Middle East Studies Programme and associate professor of political science at the American University in Cairo.
