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We cannot understand the relation of Socratic philosophy to ancient Greek religion unless we first distinguish between the natural religion of the philosophers, the mythic religion of the poets, and the civic religion of the polis. These are not three religions but three differing interpretations of Greek religion. The Socratic philosophers attack the religion of the poets in order to reform the civic religion in the light of natural religion. All three kinds of Greek religion are focused on the relations between gods and humans and on the question of whether a person can traverse the chasm between human and divine. In Greek mythology and cult, some heroic human beings, like Heracles, were able to become gods. For the Socratics, philosophers are the new Greek heroes, able to divinize themselves by dint of rational discipline.
The first occurrences of the onomastic formula ‘Zeus Helios great Sarapis’ belongs to the reign of Trajan. Appearing in the military and economic context of the quarries of the Egyptian eastern desert, this divine name associates, in a single henotheistic entity, the great gods of Egypt (Amon-Ra-Helios), the Greco-Roman world (Zeus-Iuppiter) and Alexandria (Sarapis), giving pre-eminence to the latter. The iconographic translation of this theological evolution can be found in the provincial coinage of Alexandria during the Antonine period.
The cautious conversion of the kings of Ḥimyar to monotheism in the fourth century CE was influenced by the beliefs of a local Jewish community. This chapter clarifies the relationship between South Arabian Jews and Jewish sympathizers and offers an interpretative framework for the monotheism of fourth- and fifth-century Ḥimyar, which contextualizes the choice of South Arabia’s elites to become Jewish sympathizers. The process of conversion to monotheism also shares features with the first stage of Christianity in Aksūm and the Graeco-Roman world, as well as the henotheism of pre-Islamic North Arabia. It argues that the Ḥimyarite kings’ cautious conversion follows a broad Late Antique trend which aimed to ease the transition for their subjects and/or to assume a neutral position towards the developments of the surrounding empires. In the brand-new kingdom of Ḥimyar, the cult of a single, institutionalized and translocal deity provided a strong mechanism for establishing identities that were reshaped in a wider syncretistic framework through a sociopolitical exploitation of cults characteristic of the broader late antique world.
Having previously investigated the political and religious milieux of the north and the south of the Arabian Peninsula, this chapter sheds some light on the history of the Ḥijāz at the time of the rise of Islam. It aims to answer the following questions: what factors made the Ḥijāz a favourable environment for the emergence of a third scriptural monotheism? What was the religious context of sixth- and seventh-century Ḥijāz? What picture emerges from a comparative reading of the epigraphical and literary sources? The chapter discusses the polytheistic milieu of pre-Islamic Arabia immediately after the introduction. This discussion includes an analysis of the Qurʾānic passages which mention pagan idols, and argues the case for the existence of a henotheist Ḥijāz at the end of the sixth century. In the third section, an overview of the scriptural communities documented in the Ḥijāz is given. These scriptural groups heavily influenced and shaped the rise of Islam, as evident from even a superficial reading of the Qur’ān. Finally, section four analyses Muḥammad’s prophetic career.
The second chapter narrates the history of North Arabia between the late third and fifth centuries. In around 224, the Arsacid dynasty in Iran was defeated by the Sasanians, who immediately embarked on a war against Rome. The renewed animosity between the two superpowers of Late Antiquity had repercussions in the Near East, causing the fall of valuable buffer states such as Palmyra and Hatra and the employment of Arabian allies in areas such as North Ḥijāz, where the Romans could no longer easily exercise direct control. These Arabian allied confederacies did not have fixed geographical boundaries and were also often unstable in their alliances. After shedding light on the sociopolitical situation of North Arabia, the chapter focuses on the impact of Constantine’s conversion to Christianity, which had the result of creating a cultural network. It argues that Christianity had an instrumental role for the North Arabian urban elites and a more limited role among the poorer classes, especially the rural ones.
Chapter 4 begins an in-depth exploration of Assmann’s advances on Freud, by distilling key terms from Assmann and his cognate “axial age” scholarship: different kinds of “religions,” their “translatability” with other religions, and different kinds of violence.
Chapter 5 uses those terms to describe, through Assmann, a case study of polytheistic political theology in Egypt. This will help illustrate how polytheism (or better, “cosmotheism”) may be understood as rooted in the “victim mechanism,” in Girard’s terms. This puts to rest naïve notions of polytheism’s putative “tolerance,” seeing it more subtly as a socio-political force that “contains” violence, and an invitation to examine biblical monotheism.
Chapter 6 outlines a political theology of monotheism using Assmann’s concepts of the Mosaic distinction, supplemented by other scholars like Mark S. Smith, Robert Gnuse, Rainer Albertz, et al. We dwell closely here on Israel’s political conditions of sovereignty, subjugation, and exile that all help illuminate – as we saw in Gans’ critique – what historical peculiarities constitute the Hebrew discovery of monotheism. I explore how monotheism could be composed of polytheistic building blocks – first in state-based religion and political symbols, like monolatry and despotic vassal treaties – but transform among an exiled people into a division of God from political representation.
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