Herodotus and the Egyptian Cultural Inheritance of Greece
“Everyone without exception believes his own native customs, and the religion he was brought up in, to be the best; and that being so, it is unlikely that anyone but a madman would mock at such things. … Pindar, in my opinion, was right when he called [custom] the ‘king of all.'” (Histories III:38) Herodotus does maintain, if not objectivity, at least a willingness to consider other cultures and their attributes somewhat academically, and even postulate their potential merits. Nonetheless, one can safely say that he makes the same assumption which he notes is made by “everyone without exception.” The instances where Herodotus juxtaposes criticisms of tyranny generally and Persian tyranny specifically with praise of Greek government (i.e., democracy) may be indicative of his pro-Greek bias, since in his mind democracy and the rule of customary law is Greece, while arbitrary autocracy belongs to the barbarians. Compare Otanes’ argument against monarchy to Herodotus’ kudizement of Athenian fighting strength under democracy:
“Monarchy is neither pleasant nor good. … How can one fit monarchy into any sound system of ethics, when it allows a man to do whatever he likes without any responsibility or control? Even the best of men raised to such a position would be bound to change for the worse – he could not possibly see things as he used to do.” (Histories III:80)
“Thus Athens went from strength to strength, and proved, if proof was needed, how noble a thing equality before the law is, not in one respect only, but in all; for while they were oppressed under tyrants, they had no better success in war than any of their neighbors, yet, once the yoke was flung off, they proved the finest fighters in the world.” (Histories V:78)
The fact that the Persians, effectively serving as the Histories’ antagonists, choose monarchy over democracy further implies the inferiority of their culture to the Greek, inasmuch as the Persians are set up as the hubristic bad guys in the epic contest between democratic freedom and autocratic despotism. In any case, Herodotus offers condemnation for one (which happens to be the non-Greek one), and acclaim for the other. Herodotus may also be inclined to consider Greek culture superior because, though derivative (of Egypt in particular), what was acquired really did take on a character of Greekness. While in mythology, religion, and art of various kinds the Greeks borrowed from Egypt and elsewhere, what they did take, they made their own. Hurwit offers a round catalogue (or in his words, a “brief survey”) of the Greek works under Egyptian and eastern influence, but which are nonetheless essentially Greek. He notes that the succession of the Gods described in Hesiod’s Theogony “has a balance or symmetry that is absent in its Hurrian-Hittite counterpart” which marks it as “characteristically Archaic and Greek.” (Hurwit pp. 132-133) On Archaic art, Hurwit continues:
“Greek literature and myth are not eastern. Neither are Greek art and architecture. Orientalizing art is Oriental on the surface but still recognizably Greek below. … In painting, too, the Near East had no real impact on the development of the Greek figured style … And even the marble kouros is not just a statement of (or paean to) Egyptian influence: in important ways it is an assertion of Greek independence and originality.” (Hurwit pp. 133)
The whole of Hurwit’s argument is too long to quote in its entirety. He goes on to point out that in many instances Greek artists “chose not to be influenced,” and that ultimately, “the Greek vision transformed the Oriental influence, not the other way around.” (Hurwit, pp. 135) That Greece had selectively assimilated such a range of cultural items, and had been made stronger by it, rather than becoming dilute and unoriginal, could have been, in Herodotus’ eyes, testament to his peoples’ excellence. As Hurwit notes, “Weak cultures imitate, strong cultures steal….” (Hurwit pp. 132) This definitely seems to hold true in the Greeks’ case.
But as with all things, traces of the origins remain. For one example, studying the quintessentially Greek sculpture, the kouros, such as the one shown on Hurwit pp. 195, and examining it side by side with the Egyptian statue on pp. 193, the basically identical form is easily seen. To be sure, there exist marked stylistic differences, and one can still readily say, ‘this one is Egyptian, this one is Greek.’ However, the similarities are as evident as the differences: the extended left leg, the sharp line of the shin, the pronounced knee joint, the balled fists on straight arms, the thin waist, broad chest and shoulders, and impassive countenance. Even the later, significantly more naturalistic kouros from the tomb of Croesus (Hurwit pp. 254) exhibits these formulaic details, and bears resemblance to the Egyptian statue. Consider also lyric poetry, and compare the following Egyptian and Greek poems:
THE VOICE of the goose sounds forth
as he’s caught by the bait. Your love
ensnares me. I can’t let it go.
I shall take home my nets,
but what shall I tell my mother,
to whom I return every day
laden with lovely birds?
I set no traps today,
ensnared as I was by love. (Fowler pp. 17)
I tell you, sweet mother, I cannot weave at the loom,
subdued by longing for a boy through slender Aphrodite. (Miller pp. 61)
That both poems are the words of a lover unable to perform their usual task on account of their infatuation, and that both refer to the lover’s mother, is no doubt probably coincidental more than anything else. Neither verse, though, sounds so drastically different as to give it away as Egyptian or Greek (aside from the mention of Aphrodite). If one accidentally founds its way into an anthology in translation of the other culture’s writings, most readers would be none the wiser.
Finally, there is the matter of the Gods. Herodotus readily admits that their names and the knowledge of them was transmitted to Greece from Egypt, and first formally codified by Homer and Hesiod. (Histories II:50, 53) He goes further than acknowledging their origin, however, and more than once equates the Gods of his own country with those of Egypt and other peoples, giving the equivalent Greek names for foreign deities, as in II:48, where Herodotus discusses an Egyptian festival of Dionysus. On the one hand, this may be another expression of Herodotus’ pro-Greek frame of reference; but it is also illustrative of the Greek pantheon’s relationship to and descent from the older forms and names of the Gods, almost like a hero’s patronymic name.
Some may be desirous of definitively concluding that ancient Greece is either more derivative of Egypt and other cultures than it is original, or is completely unique despite outside influences. Yet, fair arguments such as those above can be readily made for both cases. While this or that analysis might lean one way or the other, ultimately it can’t be denied that the culture of ancient Greece, with all its art and theology and myth, was shaped by the cultures and societies that came before it and with which Greece interacted; but nonetheless was it unique and strongly possessed of its own character. Like a child, Greek culture has parentage, and as children grow, mature, and perhaps become independent of their parents, so did Greece grow, mature, and become independent. Yet, the parents are always in the children.