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THE LIMITS OF DIVINE LOVE

But is it true that the gods in Homer’s poems do not love human beings intensely? Zeus does express love for his son “Sarpedon, dearest to me of men” and does weep tears of blood when he is slain (16.433, 16.458-462).

And Thetis repeatedly expresses her love for Achilles and repeatedly weeps for her son, the only other god ever to weep for a human being (1.413,18.37, 18.50-51, 18.65-66, 18.70-72, 18.94, 18.428). Yet Homer shows, by contrasting the divine loves of Zeus and Thetis for their sons with the human love of Priam and Hecubae for their son, that even at its greatest, divine love lacks the intensity of human love because the self­sufficient gods never depend on other beings as humans do. Zeus feels affection for his son Sarpedon but lets him die to avoid squabbling with the other gods.154 After instructing his son Apollo to take care of the corpse of Sarpedon, Zeus never refers to him again in the poem (16.667-675). His well-being is wholly unaffected by Sarpedon’s demise. But for Priam, his son is not only an object of affection but the protector of his city, his family, his wife, and himself. The death of his son means the destruction of all that Priam loves, and his awareness of his need for Hector intensifies his love for him and his grief over his loss (22.36-76, 22.405-428). Accordingly, Priam begs his son to save himself, punishes himself for his son’s death for 12 days, and risks his life and dignity to recover the corpse of his son from Achilles.

Thetis’s feelings for her son evidently go beyond the feelings of Zeus for Sarpedon,[154] and it may have a distinctive dignity precisely because, as an immortal goddess, she is not dependent on her son as, for example, his mother Hecubae and his wife Andromache depend on Hector for their well-being, freedom, and life. Yet, Homer suggests that the relatively disinterested character of her divine love for Achilles renders that love significantly weaker than the comparable maternal love of Hecubae for Hector.

When Hecubae sees her son determined to fight Achilles on the battlefield, she begs him, pathetically and movingly, to save himself:

His mother, on the other side, wailed - shedding tears - laid the fold of her bosom bare, and with one hand held out a breast. And shedding tears, she spoke winged words to him: “Hector, my child, revere these and take pity on me, if ever I held you to my breast, to make you forget your sorrows. Remember them, my beloved child, and fight off the man, our enemy, from within the walls.” (22.79-92)[155]

Hecubae pleads with him so passionately because, she reminds him, as his entire well-being once depended on her, now her whole happiness, includ­ing her very life, depend on him. As she says after Hector dies, “Why now should I live, suffering dreadful things, while you have died? By day and night you were my boast in the town, a benefit to the Trojan men and women throughout the city, who welcomed you as a god” (22.431-435). In contrast, even though Thetis weeps when she learns that Achilles plans to kill Hector in vengeance for the death of Patroclus, since she somehow knows that her son’s death must quickly follow Hector’s (1.413, 18.65-67, 18.94-96; see also 24.83-86), once Achilles declares that he will go out to fight, the goddess simply accepts his decision, without any effort whatsoever to dissuade him (18.128-129). Unlike Hecubae, Thetis never expresses a passionate attachment to her son because, being immor­tal, she never feels so dependent on her son for her own well-being.

Hecubae responds to the prospect of Hector’s death and to his actual death with emphatic expressions of her love for him as a source of pride - “defending your people”; “my boast”; a source of happiness - “a bene­fit”; “of all my children by far dearest to my spirit”; and an object of admiration - “as a god” (6.262, 22.431-435, 24.748). Thetis responds to the prospect of Achilles' death by speaking of her son with affection - she compares him twice to a tree that she has nourished (18.54-64, 18.429-443) - but also as a source of sorrow to herself.

Thetis laments to her divine sisters - “Hear me, my sister Nereides, so that you may all know by listening to me how many sorrows are in my spirit. Alas, my wretched self, alas, the evil in giving birth to the best one” (18.52-54). And then she laments to Hephaestus:

Is there then someone, as many goddesses as are in Olympus, who has put up with as many miserable sorrows in their minds, as the woe Zeus the son of Cronus gave to me beyond all others? Of the other goddesses from the sea, he subjected me to a man, the son of Aiakos, Peleus, and I endured marriage to a man even though I certainly did not wish it. (18.429-434)

In both of these speeches, Thetis certainly does lament that she has a mortal son who suffers greatly and whom she cannot protect from grief (18.61-62, 18.442-443). Yet, by expressing the wish that she had never been married to a mortal, she also implicitly expresses the wish that she had never had a mortal son - that she had never given birth to Achilles - so that she might have avoided her own sorrows (see also 1.414). In this way, Thetis does express a certain distance from and even a certain indifference to Achilles, “my swiftly doomed son,” that would seem to be the inevitable consequence of being an immortal being whose existence will far outlast that of any mortal offspring (18.458; see 1.415-418, 1.505).[156]

Through the Iliad in particular, Homer challenges his audience's belief in divine providence by revealing that the immortal nature of the gods inevitably leads them to be indifferent to mere mortals. In Book I, the god Hephaestus remarks to Zeus and Hera as his parents quarrel over the war between the Achaians and the Trojans, “These will be miserable deeds and not endurable if you two are to quarrel thus for the sake of mortals... There will be no pleasure in our noble feast at all” (1.573-576). Hera later vows, to Athena, after Zeus reproves her for aiding the Achaians: “No longer will I allow the two of us to make war before Zeus for the sake of mortals.

Let one of them perish, and let another live, who ever shall chance” (8.427-430). When Poseidon pro­poses to Apollo that they fight one another during the climactic battle

Homer, Plato, and the Homeric Education on the Gods 63 between the Achaians and the Trojans that culminates with Achilles slaying Hector, Apollo responds:

Shaker of the earth, you would speak to me as one who is not of sound mind, if I am to war with you for the sake of wretched mortals, who resemble leaves: at one time they are ablaze with life, eating the fruit of the earth, but another time they perish and are lifeless. But as quickly as possible, let us desist from battle. Let them strive against themselves. (21.462-467)

As Hephaestus, Hera, and especially Apollo make clear, it simply does not seem reasonable for beings who will live for eternity to concern them­selves with beings whose lives are but an instant, any more than it would be for human beings to concern themselves with soon-to-be-lifeless leaves.

The most stunning revelation of the Iliad is that of the indifference of Zeus, the Father of Gods and Men, to human beings. Homer presents this to his audience most clearly and most painfully in Books III and IV by juxtaposing the earnest piety of the human characters with the astounding inhumanity of Zeus. At the beginning of Book III, after Odysseus prevents the Achaians from going home and Agamemnon leads them to attack Troy, the Trojans and the Achaians suddenly call a truce and decide together to end the war by having Paris and Menelaus duel for Helen. Now, the decision of the Trojans and Achaians to end the war by having Paris and Menelaus duel for Helen would seem eminently just and would seem to reflect a genuine attachment to justice, as well as a longing for peace, on both sides. After nine long years of war, the Trojans and the Achaians agree to a settlement of the war that, had it succeeded, would have spared the lives of many Achaians and Trojans - including Sarpedon, Patroclus, and Hector - would have avoided the deaths by violence of Achilles and Priam, and would have saved Troy from its final destruction.[158] Insofar as he has a fatherly concern for the Achaians and Trojans, one would think that Zeus would welcome such a settlement.

Yet Homer reveals to us that Zeus deliberately wrecks that settlement, in a singularly treacherous manner, and plunges the Trojans and the Achaians back into the “miserable war” (3.112).[159]

When the Trojans march out to fight the advancing Achaians, Hector sees his brother Paris flee in terror from fighting with Menelaus, whose wife he stole. Hector angrily denounces the cowardice and injustice of his

brother, affirms that the Trojan cause is unjust, confirms that Paris began this nine-year-old war by an act of deception and adultery, and laments that the cowardly Trojans have not stoned him to death for his evil deeds.[160] Apparently impressed by Hector’s powerful rebuke, Paris pro­poses, not only to face Menelaus in battle, but to decide the outcome of the war, once and for all, by dueling Menelaus for the reward of Helen and all her possessions (3.67-75). Hector, delighted by this proposal, orders the Trojans to sit down on the battlefield, publicly explains Paris’s proposal to the Achaians, and publicly blames Paris for the war (3.86-87). Menelaus readily agrees to this proposal, as long as Priam swears an oath to Zeus (3.103-107) to respect the outcome of the duel: “For this sorrow above all comes to my spirit, and I am minded that the Argives and Trojans at last may be separated from one another, since you have suffered many evils because of my quarrel and because Alexandros began it” (3.97-100). Menelaus explains here that he embraces the pro­posal above all because it seems just to him that the quarrel should be settled by the two principals, without causing any more suffering to either the Achaians or the Trojans. Like Hector, Menelaus agrees not only that Paris is to blame for the war but also that it is wrong for both sides to continue to suffer for his wrongdoing. Homer then reports: “So he spoke and both the Achaians and the Trojans rejoiced, hoping to put a stop to the miserable war” (3.111-112). We then learn that, even before hearing about the proposed duel, leading Trojans have been urging Priam to return Helen to Menelaus (3.159-160).

Even Priam himself, upon learn­ing of the proposed duel, immediately agrees to it, though he does fear “his beloved son” Paris will lose.[161] So evidently reasonable and just is Paris’s proposal that, with the qualified exception of Agamemnon, who prays to Zeus that, if Menelaus wins, the Trojans should offer some additional, fitting honor to the Achaians, the Achaians and Trojans all unreservedly swear oaths to honor the terms and outcome of the duel (3.284-287).

Furthermore, the subsequent victory of Menelaus over Paris in that duel seems just, since all evidently agree that, at the very least, Paris wronged the hospitable Menelaus by stealing away with his wife, even though Helen acknowledges in her first words in the poem that she followed Paris willingly (3.172-175).162 Homer stresses that, conse­quently, the Trojans themselves hated Paris so much that none of them were willing to help him in any way (3.451-454). Indeed, it would seem that, precisely because he is aware of his own wrongdoing, Paris does not dare to pray to the gods for help before facing Menelaus in combat. Menelaus, on the other hand, confident as he is that Paris is in the wrong and he is in the right, does pray to Zeus for justice: “Zeus, Lord, grant me to punish him who first did evil things to me, divine Alexandros, and break him beneath my hands, so that anyone of human beings born hereafter will shudder at doing evil things to one who receives him as a guest, who has offered him friendship.”[162]

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The victory of Menelaus would seem, then, to be a victory for justice. Yet Zeus thwarts that victory. In the first place, his daughter Aphrodite rescues Paris from certain death at the hands of Menelaus. And while she appears to act on her own initiative, out of fondness for Paris, as Helen suggests (3.406-409), Zeus never expresses disapproval here for what his daughter does; to the contrary, he follows up on her action by restarting the war in an especially shocking manner.

After Paris mysteriously vanishes, Agamemnon proclaims, in the midst of the confusion, that, since Menelaus clearly won, the Trojans should now return Helen, her possessions, and some additional honor, so that the Achaians may sail home and the Trojans may live in peace. The Achaians immediately agree, but the Trojans, even though they all hate Paris, apparently hesitate (see 3.449-461). At this moment, Zeus sends Athena to destroy the truce and resume the war by inducing the Trojans to violate the sworn agreement: “Very swiftly, go to the host of the Trojans and the Achaians and try to make it so that the Trojans, by overstepping them, violate their oaths to the surpassingly glorious Achaians.”[163] What makes this action by Zeus so singularly shocking is that, in the eyes of the human beings of the poem, he is the enforcer of oaths. Indeed, the clearest feature of Zeus’s justice toward men and also gods is his supposed respect for oaths and enforcement of oaths.[164] When Menelaus originally agrees to the duel with Paris, he insists that the agreement be sealed with oaths to Zeus: “Bring two sheep, one white, the other black, for Earth and the Sun. For Zeus we will bring another. And bring the strength of Priam, so that he himself may swear an oath, since his children are overbearing and untrustworthy, lest someone, through transgression, violate the oaths of Zeus” (3.103-107). Menelaus does not trust in the promises of “untrustworthy” men but trusts that Zeus will punish those who “violate” their sworn oaths. But we now see that it is Zeus who is untrustworthy, since he induces the Trojans to “violate” this very oath.[165] When the Trojan Pandarus violates his oath and almost kills Menelaus, an outraged Agamemnon affirms that Zeus, “seething in anger at this deception,” will punish the Trojans for violating their oaths (4.157-168). Yet it was Zeus himself who, through his daugh­ter Athena, deceived “blameless” Pandarus into violating his oath.[166] Then, when the fighting has resumed, Agamemnon encourages the most determined Achaians to battle the Trojans by declaring: “Argives, do not let go now of this furious might. For Father Zeus will not be one who helps liars, but these, who were the first to violate their oaths, vultures will eat their tender flesh, and we will bring their beloved wives and infant children in our ships after we take their city” (4.234-239). Agamemnon, like all the characters in the poem, simply takes it for granted that Father Zeus is just, that he rewards the good and punishes the wicked, and that he specifically punishes those who violate their oaths sworn to him.[167] But Homer reveals here to his audience that Zeus is perfectly willing to deceive men into violating their sworn oaths, that he therefore cannot be trusted to enforce justice, and that he seems, rather, fundamentally indifferent to the longings of men for justice and peace. Homer highlights the shocking contrast between what humans believe about Zeus and his true nature by calling Zeus here, for only the second of 13 times in the poem, “the Father of Men and Gods,” just before Zeus sends Athena to induce the Trojans to violate their oaths and thereby resume what he himself calls “evil war.”[168] Homer thereby emphasizes to his audience that it is unreasonable for human beings to believe that “Father” Zeus upholds oaths, enforces justice, or indeed cares at all about human beings.

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One might defend the justice of Zeus here by invoking the solemn pledge he made to Thetis, a pledge he claimed “cannot be taken back again,” to use the Trojans to punish the Achaians for their injustice to Achilles, so that they will honor him (ι.525-527).[169] For even if, in the eyes of all the Achaians and Trojans, it seems just for the Achaians and Trojans to end the war by returning Helen to her rightful husband and by punishing the deceptive adulterer, the injustice done to Achilles by the Achaians would remain unpunished and the solemn pledge Zeus made to Thetis and Achilles would remain unfulfilled. Perhaps, then, the situation Zeus faces is a tragic moral choice between benefitting the Trojans and the Achaians at the expense of Achilles and Thetis, on the one hand, or benefitting Achilles and Thetis at the expense of the Achaians and Trojans. And once he resolves to benefit Achilles and Thetis, one might argue, that good end justifies the admittedly shocking means of deceiving the Trojans into violating their oaths.

Yet, in the account that Homer gives of Zeus’s decision to restart the war, Zeus does not even mention Achilles or his promise to Thetis to punish the Achaians for their injustice to him. Zeus does not express concern for Achilles, or for justice, or, ultimately, for any human being whatsoever. In this account, Homer challenges most acutely the conven­tional pious belief that the gods, led by Zeus, care and provide for human beings. In order to understand this challenge, let us consider this scene carefully.

As the scene opens, the gods are assembled by Zeus in order to decide, as he says, “whether we shall stir up again evil war and dreadful fighting or whether we shall cast friendship between both sides” (4.15-16). By framing the question in this way, Zeus seems to have decided in favor of encouraging the Trojans to accept Menelaus’s victory and end the war. While this decision would seem beneficial to both the Achaians and the Trojans, it would mean that the Achaians' mistreatment of Achilles would go unpunished and Zeus’s promise to Achilles and Thetis would be violated. Therefore, it is not surprising that Hera, who was said in Book I to “love” and “care” for Achilles (as well as for Agamemnon), objects.171 Yet, Homer reveals here that Hera does not object on behalf of Achilles or even on behalf of the Achaians but solely on her own behalf: “How can you wish to make fruitless and unfulfilled the labor, the sweat that I have sweated in toil, and my horses worn out, gathering my people and evils for Priam and his children?” (4.26-28). Hera complains that, by letting the Trojans and Achaians end the war, Zeus will undo all of her efforts to do harm to Priam and his children. She objects, then, not because she loves Achilles but because she hates the family of Priam. But why does she hate them so? The goddess offers no justification whatsoever here for her desire to inflict evils on Priam and his children. Nor does she justify the evils that the Trojans who are not part of Priam’s family will suffer, or the evils the Achaians as a whole will suffer, as a result of the resumption of the war. She simply insists to Zeus that her long-standing desire to hurt Priam and his family be satisfied (see also 18.367).[170]

Zeus responds by reasonably demanding to know: “[W]hat now are such evils that Priam and his children did to you, because of which you are always furious to sack entirely the well-built city of Ilion?” (4.31-33). Now, it is possible that Hera would have a response to this question. Later, Homer explains that “sacred Ilion and Priam and his people incurred the hatred” of Hera and Athena “because of the delusion of Alexandros” who on a certain occasion favored Aphrodite over them (24.25-30). Yet, even if we stipulate that Paris wronged Hera, we must still wonder how it could be reasonable or just for Priam and all of the Trojans to suffer, along with the Achaians, because of the injustice of one Trojan.

Zeus, however, does not wait for Hera to answer, but proceeds to denounce her hatred of the Trojans as monstrous: “If you were to go within the gates and long walls and devour Priam and the children of Priam and the other Trojans raw, only then would your rage be healed” (4.34-36). Here Zeus seems to judge the rage of Hera as simply unjust and malevolent. For what could possibly justify the desire to devour an entire people? He seems to conclude that Hera’s rage is simply malicious and even twisted. One would expect, then, that the Father of Gods and Men would resolve to shield the Trojans and also the Achaians from the monstrous hatred of his wife, to spare them “evil war” and “dreadful fighting,” and establish peace and friendship among them (4.82-84).

But then, in a stunning reversal, Zeus simply yields to Hera and agrees to the destruction of the Trojans! Why does he give in to what he himself has deemed to be her unreasonable, unjustified, and savage rage? Zeus explains:

Do, however, as you wish. Let this quarrel hereafter not come to be a matter of great strife between us both. But I will tell you another thing, and cast it into your mind. Whenever I myself should be eager to sack completely a city, as I wish, wherein there are men who are loved by you, do not in any way oppose my rage, but let me do it. For I myself willingly granted you this, with my spirit unwilling. For of the cities of earthly men who dwell beneath the sun and the starry heaven, sacred Ilion has been honored most in my heart, both Priam and the people of Priam of the strong ash spear. For never did my altar lack of a fair feast, libation, and savor. For this is what we are due. (4.37-49)

What is so shocking about Zeus’s words here is the fundamental indiffer­ence they betray toward human beings and especially toward human suffering. As he makes clear, he does not give in to the rage of Hera because he deems it at all just to do so. Zeus remarks here that he is, to some extent, “unwilling” to allow Troy to be destroyed both because he loves the Trojans more than any other human beings and because they have acted justly toward him by always giving him his due. In this way, he reiterates and elaborates on the injustice and savagery of Hera’s rage and therefore on the injustice and savagery of his own cooperation with that rage. Zeus gives in to the savage rage of his wife and her malicious desire to destroy Troy in order to avoid conflict with Hera now and also in the future when he feels a similarly savage rage and wishes to destroy some city that she loves. Zeus, the Father of Gods and Men, is willing to sacrifice even just human beings whom he loves and honors more than any other humans in order to avoid conflict with his wife. He is willing to let the Trojans, who have always been just to him, perish because, it would seem, he does not truly care about justice. He casually sacrifices the lives of mortals he “loves” because, it turns out, he does not genuinely love mortals at all.

Similarly, Hera responds to Zeus by betraying her own astounding indifference even to human beings she claims to love:

Verily three cities are most loved by me: Argos, Sparta, and wide-wayed Mycenae. These sack completely whenever they become hateful to your heart. I will not stand up for these against you, nor begrudge you.... But you, quickly give orders to Athena, so that dreadful combat may come of the Trojans and Achaians and try to make it so that the Trojans will begin, first, to slay, in violation of their oaths, the highly praised Achaians. (4.51-67)

Homer then pointedly remarks: “So she spoke and he did not disobey her, the Father of Gods and Men” (4.68).

We see here that, even though Hera ostensibly cares for the Achaians, she is willing, not only to prevent them from returning home in peace and hence to sacrifice their lives in battle, but also to let them be annihilated, simply in order to glut her hatred of the Trojans. Homer offers here the staggering revelation to his pious audience that the gods quite simply do not care for human beings. They are willing to inflict untold suffering and sacrifice countless lives on a whim, in order to satisfy their rages and in order to avoid squabbling with one another. Once the truce is wrecked and the fighting resumes, the gods urge on both sides to a frenzy of slaughter, with calamitous consequences for each:

Ares roused them [the Trojans] while the owl-eyed Athena roused the others [the Achaians], and Terror and Fear and Discord, the insatiably eager sister and companion of man-slaughtering Ares, she who... at that time cast down strife in the middle, equally between for both sides, and she came among the onslaught, enlarging the groaning of men.... There arose together the wailing and the boasting of men who were killing and being killed, and the ground flowed with blood. (4.439-451)

Homer’s clear lesson, then, to his audience in Book IV is that we should not expect the gods to uphold oaths, to enforce justice, or indeed to protect any human beings at all, even just ones whom they especially honor and love.

Homer does not present the gods as consistently hating human beings. He does portray the gods on a number of occasions as compassionate and caring beings. But what Homer teaches is that the gods are unreliable, since they are inconsistent, changeable, and whimsical. For example, Zeus is said to feel pity and compassion a number of times in the course of the poem, especially for Hector, and he sheds great tears of blood when his own son Sarpedon is slain. But, as Homer indicates, even though Zeus feels affection for Hector and Sarpedon, he allows them both to die in order to avoid conflict with Hera, Athena, and possibly other gods.[171] Zeus’s sacrifice of his “beloved” Trojans here to avoid further quarreling with Hera foreshadows his sacrifice of Sarpedon, “most beloved [or dearest] of men” and “beloved” Hector for similar reasons.[172]

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Source: Ahrensdorf Peter J.. Homer and the Tradition of Political Philosophy: Encounters with Plato, Machiavelli, and Nietzsche.Cambridge University Press,2022. — 334 p.. 2022

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