Aeschylus, “The Persians” & war and blasphemy

{Note: I wasn’t planning to post this because it’s a bit rambling and digressive. But, I realized that it sort of fits with the discussion about war and morality.}

Let me start by showing my cards: for me, The Persians doesn’t really work as theatrical drama. It is the oldest extant play (472 BCE) and the only surviving classical play based in events real as opposed to mythological. It has been successfully updated several times and is still exceptional as a war play that generates great sympathy for the “enemy”.

So, why doesn’t The Persians work as theatre?

Perhaps it’s the issue of dramatic tension, a problem in many of these plays, and here only weakened by repetition. As the play begins, we know already that the Persians have been defeated, so the only real tension has to with how the Persian city of Susa will learn of the defeat at Salamis and how they will take it.

It’s a bit of a one-note affair. The story begins with the Persian Queen Atossa relating a prophetic dream: her son Xerxes trying to yoke two beautiful sisters, one Persian and one Dorian, to his chariot; one girl runs amok and tips over the chariot, bloodying her son. This establishes the Persian defeat as a theme, and soon Atossa’s fears are confirmed by a messenger who reports the defeat at Salamis. Then, various characters respond to the news of defeat. And, finally, the defeated Xerxes returns home to mourn. It is a play about the rolling waves of shock we feel after a horrible event, and the audience does feel sympathy for the Persians; however, after a certain point, it’s hard not to think, okay, we get it: Persia got creamed.

Atossa offers libations of milk, honey, and virgin spring water to the earth; first as atonement and, after the messenger, as an offering to the dead Darius. His ghost appears, asking to know what’s happening; the Chorus members are still afraid to give him bad news. Darius despairs to hear the impetuous Xerxes has not listened to his injunctions. He predicts that the Persians will never take Hellas. Their troops are doomed in part because Xerxes sought conquest beyond his capacity; partly, because, while in Hellas, “restrained by no religious awe, they ravaged the temples of the gods and gave their images to the flames.”

This is blasphemous, but what kind of blasphemy? Is it akin to a sin or the violation of a taboo? Freud explains taboo: “On the one hand, it means to us, sacred, consecrated: but on the other hand it means uncanny, dangerous, forbidden and unclean.” While religious commandments have a history, taboos are primordial. “The taboo prohibitions lack all justification and are of unknown origin.” Taboo is the uncanny power adhering to a place or person, while sin is the spiritually polluting nature of certain acts; when taboos go unpunished, they collapse; when sins are forgiven, they are strengthened. Taboos care not a jot about intent. Try to remember a Greek tragedy in which a transgression is forgiven. Nevertheless, the libations offered are a sort of atonement. This, I think, is the proper response to sin; as opposed to removal of the polluted person for violating a taboo. Think of the Biblical burnt offerings and Homeric hectacombs. We’re somewhere betwixt and between sin and taboo.

Note also that the transgression was the smashing of a temple. In the Old Testament, the tribes of Israel were quite often ordered by Yahweh to make war on their heathen neighbors and destroy their temples. Here is an important difference between a covenant nation and Greek myth. The Greeks believe the gods come from the same race; thus, the Persians descend from Perseus, another son of Zeus. This makes the Persian blasphemy worse, but also suggests it would go both ways. Hellenic violations of other nations’ gods would also violate the Divine order. For the Hebrews, there is no god but G_d, who adheres to the nation by covenant; so smashing the statue of Dagon is not blasphemy.

Saul/Paul argues that salvation is not the special gift of any nation, but is open to all who ask for forgiveness. If all men are the created children of God, it raises the question of whether all war is blasphemy against God’s creation. Luke’s urging for the warrior to take his pay but not commit acts of violence is cold comfort given the few options open to a Roman soldier. “Just war” theory, beginning with Augustine, takes up the question, ultimately reconciling religious life to the reality that war is often inescapable, but forbidding Christians to be aggressors. In this, it actually takes the same stance as the Koran, which states: “Fight for the sake of God those who fight against you, but do not attack them. God does not love aggressors”. (2:189) However, neither set of doctrines are unerringly adhered to. I still wonder: Can believers in an eternal and universal God, particularly the spiritual descendants of Abraham, wage war against each other without committing blasphemy?

And do we even recognize the blasphemies that occur in war? I never hear it discussed, even in terms of past wars. Writers like Michelle Goldberg warn of “Christian Nationalism“, which I’m not really familiar with, but I have heard some express the idea that the American nation is an instrument of God’s judgment. And certainly the country’s enemies claim that role for themselves. Are we returning to an Old Testament/Medieval mentality in which God adheres to chosen nations and acts through them? Or do we just no longer recognize a Divine order and thus recognize no blasphemy?

Either way, let’s hope there’s mercy on our souls.

Endnotes:

1. When I say this is rambling and digressive, I mean it’s really just me trying to figure out what I think on the topic and make sense of what Aeschylus thinks on the topic. “Essaying” in the sense of trying out. A bit of a one-off.

2. The only other Aeschylus play I’d like to post on is Prometheus Bound, which it’s generally agreed was probably not written by Aeschylus. I do like Seven Against Thebes, but have very little to say about it.