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The Other Version of the Story of the Storm-god’s Combat with the Sea in the Light of Egyptian, Ugaritic, and Hurro-Hittite Texts, JANER 15 (2015), 20–51

2015, JANER 15

The paper examines a group of texts from second-millennium BCE Egypt, Hatti, and Ugarit that contains motifs relating to the Storm-god's combat with the Sea. The similarity these accounts exhibit to one another and their divergence from Enūma eliš and related biblical passages suggests that they constitute a variant of this mythologem that circulated in the Fertile Crescent during this period. The primary elements of this version, its origin, and means of transmission are examined through a comparative analysis.

Journal of ancient near eastern religions �5 (�0�5) �0–5� Journal of Ancient Near Eastern Religions brill.com/jane The Other Version of the Story of the Storm-god’s Combat with the Sea in the Light of Egyptian, Ugaritic, and Hurro-Hittite Texts Noga Ayali-Darshan Department of Hebrew and Semitic Languages, Bar-Ilan University [email protected] Abstract The paper examines a group of texts from second-millennium BCE Egypt, Hatti, and Ugarit that contains motifs relating to the Storm-god’s combat with the Sea. The similarity these accounts exhibit to one another and their divergence from Enūma eliš and related biblical passages suggests that they constitute a variant of this mythologem that circulated in the Fertile Crescent during this period. The primary elements of this version, its origin, and means of transmission are examined through a comparative analysis. Keywords Aleppo – Astarte Papyrus – Baal Cycle – Enūma eliš – Hurrian-Egyptian relationship – the Song of Ḫedammu – the Song of the Sea – the Song of Ullikummi * This paper is based on a section of my dissertation “The Dispersion of the Story of the Combat between the Storm-god and the Sea in the Ancient Near East: Sources, Traditions and History,” written under the supervision of Edward L. Greenstein and Wayne Horowitz at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem (2012). I would like to express my deepest gratitude to both for their help and insights. My thanks go also to Jack Sasson, Arlette David and the late Itamar Singer, who kindly read and critiqued the material upon which this article is based. © koninklijke brill nv, leiden, ���5 | doi �0.��63/�569���4-��34��68 the other version of the story of the storm god ’ s combat 21 Introduction The publication of the Babylonian Enūma eliš epic—which recounts Marduk’s battle against Tiāmat (Tiāmtum)—prompted a wave of scholarly interest in the ancient story of the Storm-god’s struggle against the Sea at the end of the nineteenth century.1 The subsequent discovery of the Ugaritic Baal Cycle (KTU 1.1–1.6), which relates Baal’s combat with the Sea (Ym), sheds further light on this story and its dissemination in the ancient Near East.2 Seeing as both texts help elucidate biblical passages that contain motifs from this story, such passages were assumed to constitute a mythic Israelite account of the combat between YHWH and the Sea (Yamm).3 On this reading, all three sources refer to the Storm-god’s hostilities against the Sea, his victory over him, and his enthronement, with a palace being erected in his honour. Enūma eliš and some of the biblical texts also portray the Storm-god creating the world in the wake of his triumph over the Sea. While these three texts—enūma eliš, the Baal Cycle, and the Hebrew Bible—are customarily adduced as the primary witnesses for the existence of the story of the Storm-god’s combat with the Sea in the ancient Near East, they are far from the only sources that allude to it. When A.H. Gardiner edited the Egyptian Astarte Papyrus (pAmherst 9) in the early 1930s, he was quick to note its affinities with Enūma eliš.4 In the following decade, H.G. Güterbock 1 Enūma eliš was first published by G. Smith, The Chaldean Account of Genesis (New York: Scribner, Armstrong & Co, 1876), 62–100. For its publication history, see now R. Kämmerer and K.A. Metzler, Das babylonische Weltschöpfungsepos Enūma elîš (AOAT 375; Münster: Ugarit Verlag, 2012), 49–55. For the pronunciation of the name ti-GÉME, see most recently R. Borger, “Zur neuen Schulausgabe des babylonischen Weltschöpfungsepos,” Orientalia NS 77 (2008), 272–73. 2 For the first edition, see C. Virolleaud, La déesse ʿAnat (Paris: Librairie Orientaliste Paul Geuthner, 1938). 3 Prior to the discovery of the Ugarit tablets, see G.A. Barton, “Tiamat,” jaos 15 (1893): 1–27; H. Gunkel, Creation and Chaos in the Primeval Era and the Eschaton: A Religio-Historical Study of Genesis 1 and Revelation 12 (trans. K.W. Whitney; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2006 [1895]). The most noteworthy attempt to examine the relation between the Ugaritic findings and the biblical traditions appears to be that of U. Cassuto, Biblical and Oriental Studies (trans. I. Abrahams; Jerusalem: Magnes, 1975 [original Italian and Hebrew 1937–1950]). 4 A.H. Gardiner, Late Egyptian Stories (Brussels: Édition de la Fondation égyptologique Reine Élisabeth, 1932), 76–81; idem, “The Astarte Papyrus,” in Studies Presented to F.L. Griffith (ed. S.R.K. Glanville; London: Egypt Exploration Society 1932), 74–85. Gardiner (“The Astarte Papyrus,” 80) himself was uncertain whether the two texts were directly linked, citing the fact that (1) the Mesopotamian “sea” (Tiāmat) is a feminine noun while the Egyptian equivalent Journal of ancient near eastern religions 15 (2015) 20–51 22 ayali-darshan published part of the Song of Ullikummi (CTH 345)—making reference to the Song of Ḫedammu (CTH 348) and the Hittite Pišaiša Myth (CTH 350.3) and drawing attention to their links to the Ugaritic tablets.5 Over the course of time, further fragments from the Song of Ḫedammu, the Song of Ullikummi, and the Astarte Papyrus have come to light, leading to efforts to either affirm or disprove the connection between these texts and the story of the Storm-god’s combat with the Sea. However, since the overall results manifest to greater disparities than correspondences among the various texts, some scholars denied any commonality while others proposed reconstructions based on ungrounded readings.6 (Ym) is masculine and (2) Tiāmat being overcome by Marduk rather than appeased by the gods’ offering (as in the Egyptian case). With respect to the first reservation, gender interchanges in the transmission of stories from place to place are well known, especially when dictated by the grammar of the local language: see, for example, V. Propp, “Transformations of the Wondertales,” in Theory and History of Folklore (3d ed.; trans. C.H. Severns; ed. A. Liberman; Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1993), 82–99. For the second reservation, see below. W.F. Albright (“Zebul Yam and Thâpiṭ Nahar in the Combat between Baal and the Sea,” JPOS 16 [1936]: 17–20) appears to have been the first scholar to assert a positive link between the Astarte Papyrus and both Enūma eliš and the Baal Cycle, suggesting that the Astarte Papyrus is an “Egyptianized Canaanite myth” and including the Mesopotamian Labbu Myth (CT 13:33–34) and Hittite Iluyanka Myth (CTH 321) in this group. While scholars who follow in his footsteps frequently regard the latter two narratives as belonging to the Storm-god’s combat with the Sea mythologem, these texts do not portray the sea as a (negative) protagonist. Failing to evince any direct association with—or influence upon—the texts adduced below, they will therefore not feature at length here. For a fuller discussion, see Ayali-Darshan, “The Diffusion of the Story of the Combat between the Storm-God and the Sea.” 5 Güterbock briefly alludes to this relation in a discussion of how the Hurrian texts found their way to Greece via Ugarit and the Levant: H.G. Güterbock, Kumarbi: Mythen vom Churritischen Kronos aus den Hethitischen Fragmenten zusammengestellt, uebersetzt und erklaert (Leiden: Brill, 1946); cf. also idem, “The Hittite Version of the Hurrian Kumarbi Myths: Oriental Forerunners of Hesiod,” AJA 52 (1948): 123–134. Otten, in contrast, argues that—like the Elkunirša Myth (CTH 342)—the Hurro-Hittite accounts originated in Canaan: H. Otten, “Ein Kanaanäischer Mythus aus Bogazköy,” MIO 1 (1953): 125–50, esp. 145–49. As will be demonstrated below, however, while Hurrian in origin, these accounts were also influenced by local Syrian elements. 6 Posener (followed by Vandersleyen and Shupak) rejects the links between the Astarte Papyrus and the Ugaritic and Babylonian stories, arguing that the former represents a local Egyptian narrative: G. Posener, “La légende Égyptienne de la mer insatiable,” AIPHOS 13 (1953): 461–78; C. Vandersleyen, Ouadj our: Un autre aspect de la vallée du Nil (Brussels: Safran, 1999), 96–97; N. Shupak, ‘“He Hath Subdued the Water Monster/Crocodile’: God’s Battle with the Sea in Egyptian Sources,” JEOL 40 (2006–2007): 77–90. Gaster (followed by Redford), on the other hand, reconstructs part of the Ugaritic Baal Cycle on the basis of the Astarte Papyrus and sections of the Song of Ḫedammu, regarding the Astarte Papyrus as an (accurate) translation of Journal of ancient near eastern religions 15 (2015) 20–51 the other version of the story of the storm god ’ s combat 23 In the last decade of the twentieth century, new texts from Mari, Anatolia, and Egypt preserving additional traces of the story of the Storm-god’s combat with the Sea were published. Their contents, and the information they provide regarding the cultures in which the myth was known, can undoubtedly augment our knowledge concerning it and help elucidate the links between the diverse compositions. As I hope to demonstrate herein, a comparison of all the documents extant today indicates that two versions of the myth were prevalent in the ancient Near East. The first—with which most scholars are familiar—is reflected in first millennium Mesopotamian and biblical literature. The second is the earlier, echoed in second-millennium Egyptian, Anatolian, and Ugarit texts, its details and provenance being illuminated by the publication of the new texts. In this study, I shall focus on the earlier version—which I shall call “Version A.” Although this version contains the principal features of the story of the Storm-god’s combat with the Sea, it also includes motifs that are absent from both the Mesopotamian and biblical texts. My first task will be to identify the primary elements of this version, adduce its origin, and account for the literary “collaboration” between the various cultures of the period. I shall then briefly examine the divergences between this early, second-millennium BCE. version and the later version (“Version B”). While, as in so many other cases, the physical state of the documents prevents a full reconstruction of Version A, analysis of the textual witnesses—the most important of which I shall adduce below—suggests that the account of the Storm-god’s combat with the Sea that was known in the second millennium BCE differed radically from the one with which we are familiar today. A Version A as Reflected in the Hurro-Hittite Texts Numerous documents of Hurrian origin discovered in Hattuša attest to the fact that the story of the Storm-god’s combat with the Sea was known amongst the Hurrians—and thence inherited by the Hittites. Several of these refer explicitly to this myth. According to CTH 785, a composition named the Song of the Deeds concerning the Sea (LÚ-nannaš ŠA A.AB.BA SÌR) relates the Storm-god’s victory over the Sea (Arunan=za maḫḫan dU [t]araḫta). The colophon of the the Canaanite myth: see T.H. Gaster, “The Egyptian ‘Story of Astarte’ and the Ugaritic Poem of Baal,” BiOr 9 (1952): 82–85; D.B. Redford, “The Sea and the Goddess,” in Studies in Egyptology Presented to Miriam Lichtheim (ed. S. Israelit-Groll; Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 1990), 2:833. For other scholars who have addressed this issue, see the discussion below. Journal of ancient near eastern religions 15 (2015) 20–51 24 ayali-darshan text ([EZE]N ḪUR.SAGḪazzi) indicates that it was declaimed at the festival for Mount Ḫazzi—i.e., Mount Ṣaphon in the Levant.7 While this text does not give us any direct information concerning the elements of the story of the Stormgod’s combat with the Sea, it demonstrates that the narrative was well known and associated with Mount Ṣaphon.8 Since the latter was not visible from the region of Kizzuwatna—the provenance of CTH 785—the Hurrians appear to have adopted the festivities linked with Mount Ṣaphon from the Levant, adapting them to their own needs and purposes.9 A second composition—KUB 45.63, written in Hurrian—bears the colophon “Tablet One of the Sea (DUB 1KAM ŠA A.AB[.BA]).” It opens with the poetic declaration: “I will sing of the Sea (šir=ad=i=l=e Kiyaše).” While it may have been an ode declaimed during the festivities of Mount Ḫazzi, its fragmentary nature and our limited knowledge of the Hurrian language make it difficult to accurately ascertain its contents.10 Both these texts indicate that the account known as the Song of the Sea— or the Song of the Deeds concerning the Sea—was well known amongst the Hurro-Hittites.11 To these may be added the references to the Storm-god’s battle against the divine Sea (DU-aš DArunan tar(a)ḫzi) and Mount Ḫazzi in the 7 8 9 10 11 See I. Rutherford, “The Song of the Sea (ŠA A.AB.BA SIR): Thoughts on KUB 45.63,” in Akten des IV. Internationalen Kongresses für Hethitologie, Würzburg, 4.–8. Oktober 1999 (SBT 45; ed. W. Gernot; Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 2001), 598–609; A. Archi, “Orality, Direct Speech and the Kumarbi Cycle,” AoF 36 (2009), 219. For the parallel Hurrian text, see V. Haas and G. Wilhelm, Hurritische und luwische Riten aus Kizzuwatna (NeukirchenVluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1974), 260–63. Cf. J. Lorenz and E. Rieken, “Überlegungen zur Verwendung mythologischer Texte bei den Hethitern,” in Festschrift für Gernot Wilhelm anlässlich seines 65. Geburtstages am 28. Januar 2010 (ed. J.C. Fincke; Dresden: Islet, 2010), 217–34. According to this text, the priest is to march to Mount Arana (located in Kizzuwatna) while the singer chants The Song of the Deeds Concerning the Sea. Because there is no link existing between the Song and Mount Arana, Archi (“Orality, Direct Speech and the Kumarbi Cycle,” 219) contends that in the original account the priest made his way to Mount Ḫazzi. See Rutherford, “The Song of the Sea,” 599–601; M. Salvini and I. Wegner, Die mythologischen Texte (ChS 1/6; Rome: Istituto di studi sulle civiltà dell’Egeo e del Vicino Oriente, 2004), 21, 46–47 (no. 12). The tablets of the Sea (DUB ŠA A.AB.BA) are also referred to in several catalogue-lists: see H. Otten and C. Rüster, “Bemerkungen zu ‘Keilschrifturkunden aus Boghazköi’ Heft XLIV,” ZA 64 (1975), 48; Rutherford, “The Song of the Sea,” 598; P. Dardano, Die hethitischen Tontafelkataloge aus Ḫattuša (CTH 276–282) (SBT 47; Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 2006), 38, 53. Referring to a song by the name of the defeated enemy was common practice in ancient literature. Journal of ancient near eastern religions 15 (2015) 20–51 the other version of the story of the storm god ’ s combat 25 Pišaiša Myth noted by Güterbock (CTH 350.3).12 Unfortunately, the fragmentary state of this composition prevents reconstruction of its contents in full. The Song of Ḫedammu (CTH 348) and the Song of Ullikummi (CTH 345) also evince affinities with the story of the Storm-god’s combat with the Sea. Their structure and substance alike suggest that they represent divergent reworkings of similar traditions adopted by the Hurrians after the latter had reached Syria. These were then integrated and organized as a single consecutive account within the Kumarbi Cycle.13 While not referring explicitly to the Storm-god’s struggle against the Sea, they clearly allude to some of the central elements of this mythologem. Thus, for example, the sea (aruna-) is described not only as the “breeding ground” of the Storm-god’s enemies as in other known narratives (e.g., the Illuyanka myth), but is also personified as a figure who gives Kumarbi counsel, advising him how to act against the Storm-god and his allies. The Hurrian author (adapter) almost certainly introduced the negative figure of the Sea into his account as a result of the analogy he drew between the Storm-god’s fight against Kumarbi and the Storm-god’s combat with the Sea—a conjecture reinforced by the fact that the Sea as a figure plays no role in the Hurrian tradition.14 The Song of Ullikummi similarly refers to Mount Ḫazzi as the place from which the Storm-god Teššub and his brothers watched their adversary Ullikummi—the great rock in the sea that was born to Kumarbi (CTH 345.1.2):15 12 13 14 15 Güterbock, Kumarbi, 122. The text was initially published by J. Friedrich, “Zu einigen altkleinasiatischen Gottheiten,” JKF 2 (1953), 147–48. See now E. Rieken et al., hethiter.net/: 350.3 (2009). The fact that this text alludes to Syrian mountains (Ḫazzi and Pišaiša) and contains distinctively Hurrian features—such as the relationship between a mount and a deity—indicates that it was composed by the Hurrians after they had migrated to Syria. See J. Siegelová, Appu-Märchen und Ḫedammu-Mythus (Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 1971), 82–84; V. Haas, Hethitische Berggötter und hurritische Steindämonen: Riten, Kulte und Mythen: Eine Einfuehrung in die altkleinasiatischen religiösen Vorstellungen (Mainz: von Zabern, 1982), 142–43; P.H.J. Houwink ten Cate, “The Hittite Storm God: His Role and His Rule According to Hittite Cuneiform Sources,” in Natural Phenomena: Their Meaning, Depiction and Description in the Ancient Near East (ed. D.J.W. Meijer; Amsterdam: Royal Netherlands Academy of Arts and Sciences, 1992), 110–11; H.A. Hoffner, Hittite Myths (2d ed.; Atlanta: SBL, 1998), 40–42; Archi, “Orality, Direct Speech and the Kumarbi Cycle,” 214– 15; N. Ayali-Darshan, “The Role of Aštabi in the Song of Ullikummi and the ‘Failed God’ Stories Prevalent in the East Mediterranean,” JNES 73 (2014), 95–103. See J. Puhvel, “The Sea in Hittite Texts,’ in Studies Presented to Joshua Whatmough on his Sixtieth Birthday (ed. E. Pulgram; The Hague: Mouton, 1957); G. Wilhelm, The Hurrians (trans. J. Barnes; Warminster: Aris & Phillips, 1989), 61. For the following text, see H.G. Güterbock, “The Song of Ullikummi: Revised Text of the Hittite Version of a Hurrian Myth (Continued),” JCS 6 (1952), 12–13; E. Rieken et al., Journal of ancient near eastern religions 15 (2015) 20–51 26 ayali-darshan 55 nu=šmaš=kan ŠU-az appan[d]at 56 n=at=kan INA ḪUR.SAGḪazziya šarā pāer 57 nu=kan LUGAL URUKummiya IGI ḪI.A-in tiškezzi 58 nu=wa=kan IGIḪI.A-in tiškezzi šapidduwa NA4kunkunuzzi 59 nu šapidduwan NA4ŠU.U-in aušta Then they held one another by the hand, and went up to (mount) Ḫazzi. The king of Kummiya (= Teššub) set (his) face, (his) face he set upon the dreadful kunkunuzzi (= Ullikummi),16 and he saw the dreadful kunkunuzzi . . . As already noted, Mount Ḫazzi is mentioned in association with the Stormgod’s combat with the Sea in the two Hurro-Hittite texts adduced above (CTH 785 and the Pišaiša myth), as well as in the Ugaritic Baal Cycle (see below). The oddity of the reference to it here is striking in light of the fact that, when the story begins, it takes place—as was indicated by I. Singer—in the region of Lake Van in Armenia, the Hurrians’ homeland.17 The only way for Ullikummi to be seen from Mount Ḫazzi is for Lake Van to become the Mediterranean! The scene of the observation from Mount Ḫazzi in fact appears to be based on a Semitic pun on the root ḥzy “to see” (or alternatively Ṣaphon and the Semitic root ṣpy) rather than on Hurrian or Hittite linguistic roots. A further point of interest in these Songs is the account of the goddess Šauška’s—written by the logogram IŠTAR-li (=Anzili)—enticement.18 Although readers of the Ugaritic, biblical, or Mesopotamian texts would not be familiar with this motif, it appears in identical fashion in the story of the Storm-god’s combat with the Sea in Egypt (see below). Thus the Song of Ḫedammu recounts how Teššub’s sister—Šauška—entered the sea in order to entice the great seamonster Ḫedammu, born to Kumarbi and the daughter of the Sea, to follow 16 17 18 eds., hethiter.net/: CTH 345.1.2 (2009); Hoffner, Hittite Myths, 60; V. Haas, Die hethitische Literatur: Texte, Stilistik, Motive (Berlin: de Gruyter, 2006), 165. Kunkunuzzi refers to a stable mineral or meteorite personified in the figure of Ullikummi. For a conjectured etymology, see HED 4:251–54. Šapidduwa being a hapax legomenon describing the kunkunuzzi, it is customarily understood as signifying Ullikummi the kunkunuzzi’s terrible features. CHD Š 206 suggests that it is associated with the city of šapidduwa and thus renders: “the kunkunuzzi of šapidduwa”: see also G.F. del Monte and J. Tischler, Die Orts- und Gewässernamen der hethitischen Texte (REP 6; Wiesbaden: L. Reichert, 1978), 349. I. Singer, “The Cold Lake and its Great Rock,” Sprache und Kultur 3 (2002), 128; cf. Haas, Die hethitische Literatur, 157. The suffix appended to the name in the citations below indicates that this figure was apparently known in Hittite as Anzili: see G. Wilhelm, “Die Lesung des Namens der Göttin IŠTAR-li,” in Investigationes Anatolicae: Gedenkschrift für Erich Neu (SBT 52; ed. J. Klinger et al.; Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 2010), 337–44. Journal of ancient near eastern religions 15 (2015) 20–51 the other version of the story of the storm god ’ s combat 27 her onto dry land. The author of this text takes great pains to describe Šauška’s methods—bathing and perfuming herself and instructing her maidens to play on the shore (CTH 348.1.9):19 11 [. . . DIŠTAR-i]š=ma=kan INA Whereas [Anzili] enter[ed] the bathhouse, É.DU10.ÚS.SA anda pai[t . . .] 12 [URUNinuwaš MUNUS.LUGAL] anda . . . [the Queen of Nineveh] went to bathe . . . arumanzi pait 15TA Ì.DÙG.GÀ=ma=za šanizzit išket . . . And she anointed herself with fine perfumed oil . . . 18 [DIŠTAR -iš ANA DNinatta DK]ulitta [Anzili] began to say [to Ninatta (and) memiškiuwan dāiš K]ulitta: 19 [. . . galgaltu]ri ēpten “[Grasp the Arkammi-instrument], grasp [the galgaltu]ri-instrument! 20 nu=kan arunaš arḫ[i . . . a]runi? On the sea shor[e] . . . to [the s]ea?, d[r]um arkammi[t . . . wa]l(a)ḫten on the right [on] the Arkammi-instrument! 21 [GÙ]B-laza=ma galgalturi and on the left drum the GUL-aḫt[en]. . . galgalturi-instrument!”. . . The following fragment depicts the encounter between the naked goddess and Ḫedammu (CTH 348.1.8): 17 nu=kan MUŠḪedammuš. . .[. . .] 18 [. . .] ḫūwaḫuēšnaz SAG.DU-a[n . . .] 19 nu DIŠTAR-in aušta 20 DIŠTAR -i[š ANA MUŠḪed]ammu IGI-anda NÍ.TEMEŠ nekumanta šarā ēpt[a]. . . 30 [MUŠḪ]edammuš INIMMEŠ-ar ANA DIŠTAR memi[škiuwan dāiš] 31 kuiš=za MUNUS-naš zik 32 DIŠTAR -iš ANA MUŠḪeda[mmu EGIR-pa] memiškiuwan dāiš 33 ammuk=za MUNUSKI.SIKIL ḫarš[alanza] 19 20 Ḫedammu . . . [. . . raised?] his head from the waves, and saw Anzili. Anzili lifted up her naked limbs [before Ḫed]ammu . . . [Ḫ]edammu [began] to sa[y] the (following) words to Anzili: “What woman are you?” Anzili began to ans[wer] Ḫeda[mmu]: “I am an en[raged?] maiden.20 For the following fragments of the Song of Ḫedammu and their order, see Siegelová, AppuMärchen und Ḫedammu-Mythus, and cf. E. Rieken et al., eds., hetheter.net/: CTH 348.1.9; 1.8; 1.4 (2009); Hoffner, Hittite Myths, 50–55; Haas, Die hethitische Literatur, 153–56. The translation “enraged” follows Siegelová, Appu-Märchen und Ḫedammu-Mythus, 57; HED 3:185. Hoffner (Hittite Myths, 54); Rieken et al., 2009. The term ḫaršalant recurs twice in the fragments ascribed to the Song of Ḫedammu (not quoted here) in close proximity Journal of ancient near eastern religions 15 (2015) 20–51 28 ayali-darshan 34 nu=mu šarauwar GIM-an ḪUR.SAGMEŠ-uš laḫḫurnuz[i . . .] 35 memiškezzi=at 36 DIŠTAR -iš ḫaliḫl[ai] 37 [. . .] ANA MUŠḪedammu 38 n=[a]n meminit [. . .]ninganuškezz[i]. . Folliag[e covers?] the mountains like the tempestuous storm does me.”21 Thus she speaks. Anzili bo[ws] . . . to Ḫedammu With (her) words [she persuades ?] him, [thus] she intoxicates . . . A further fragment (CTH 348.1.4) describes how Ḫedammu heeds the goddess’ call, descends from his throne, and follows her out of the water, crushing one hundred and thirty cities and another seventy: 18[ DIŠTAR-i]š ANA MUŠḪedammu memiškiuwan dāiš 19 šarā=kan namma e[ḫu] 20 nu=kan daššaua[z AḪ]I.A-naza . . . 24 MUŠḪedammuš[. . .] 25 [. . .] LÚ-natar parā watkuškēzzi 26 nu LÚ-nata[r . . .]ḪI.A armaḫḫiškēzzi 27 1 ME URUDIDLI.ḪI.A[. . .]. . .[. . .] 29 UZUšarḫuwantit=ma 70 URU DIDLI.ḪI.A [. . .] 32 [. . .] ḫarpuš SAG.DU-aš [ḫ]arpiya[t]. . . 39 GIŠŠÚ.A-za=ašta arunaza katta wet MUŠḪedammuš tarḫuil[iš] 40 [. . .] arḫa ḫadan-[. . .] wet [Anzili] began to say to Ḫedammu: “C[ome] up again! [Come] from the powerful waters! . . . Ḫedammu [sees the beautiful goddess] . . . (his) phallus springs up, (his) phallus impregnates . . . 130 cities . . . while by (his) belly 70 cities . . . [. . . h]eaped up mounds of heads . . . The vali[ant] Ḫedammu descended from (his) throne, from the sea. . . . He came to the dry land. Here, the extant text is cut off, leaving us ignorant of the story’s ending. The same motif occurs in the Song of Ullikummi (CTH 345.1.2):22 21 22 to Anzili (=Šauška): see Siegelová, Appu-Märchen und Ḫedammu-Mythus, 56 (no. 14), 66 (no. 26); cf. HED 5:185–86. The continuation (šarauwar) also indicates Anzili’s anger: see the following note. For an alternative reading, see CHD Š2 246. For this meaning of the term šarauwar, see CHD Š2 246; Rieken et al., 2009; Siegelová, Appu-Märchen und Ḫedammu-Mythus, 57. For the following text, see Güterbock, “The Song of Ullikummi,” 14–15; E. Rieken et al., eds., hetheter.net/: CTH 345.1.2 (2009); Hoffner, Hittite Myths, 60–61; Haas, Die hethitische Literatur, 165–66. Journal of ancient near eastern religions 15 (2015) 20–51 the other version of the story of the storm god ’ s combat 82 nu=wa=za wašiyat un[uttat . . .] 83 nu=war=aš=kan URUNenuwa[za arša pait?] 84 GIŠBALAG.DI galgalturi Š[U-za ēpta?] 85 nu iyanniyat DIŠT[AR aruni] 86 nu GIŠERIN šamišiya<t> 87 GIŠ[BA]LAG.DI-ma galgal[turi] GUL-ašta 88 GUŠKINḪI.A=ma n[i]nikta 89 nu=za=ka[n išḫ]amain dāš 90 nu=ši nepi[š d]agānzipaš=a kattan arkuš[kan]zi . . . 29 (She) dressed [and adorned herself ?. . .] She [came? from] Nineveh [her city], [grasped] the BALAG.DI-instrument (and) the galgalturi-instrument [in (her) h]a[nd]. Thus Anz[ili] came [to the sea]. (She) burned cedar, drummed (on) the [BA]LAG.DI-instrument and the galgal[turi]-instrument, stirred the gold-instruments, and took up a [so]ng. The heaven[s and the e]arth echoed it . . . Here, too, the goddess seeks to seduce Ullikummi, the Storm-god’s enemy—a rather illogical, comic scenario given the fact that he is an emotionless rock rooted in the depths of the ocean. The fact that a sea-wave (GAL-iš ḫunḫuešnaš) informs the goddess of the pointlessness of appealing to Ullikummi, encouraging her rather to call upon her brother the Storm-god to fight the young Ullikummi (ll. 94–105), demonstrates the discrepancy between the negative function attributed to the Sea and the help it extends here—a disparity that reflects the merging of several independent traditions. While further examples of Hurrian acquaintance with the story of the Storm-god’s combat with the sea could be adduced, these appear to be the most typical.23 The most significant Hurro-Hittite text for our present purposes is the fragmentary prose tablet now known by scholars as The Song of the Sea (CTH 346.9). First discussed by P.H.J. Houwink ten Cate in 1992, this text— which in its extant form lacks both beginning and conclusion—relates how the “floodwaters covered the land” until they reached the sky (ll. 10–15). Kumarbi— here depicted in a positive light—suggested that the gods pay tribute of copper, 23 Cf. also, for example, the depiction of the Storm-god’s fear of fighting his marine enemies in the Song of Ḫedammu (CTH 348.1.5: 32–35) and Song of Ullikummi (CTH 345.1.2: 61–69), as well as the Baal Cycle (KTU 1.2 IV: 2–5), and the assistance given by the Wisdom-god to the Storm-god in struggling with his adversaries after his initial failure in the Song of Ullikummi (CTH 345.1.3.1: 87–256) and the Baal Cycle (KTU 1.2 IV: 7–26). Significantly and uncoincidentally, none of these motifs appear in Enūma eliš: see Ayali-Darshan, “The Diffusion of the Story of the Combat between the Storm-God and the Sea.” Journal of ancient near eastern religions 15 (2015) 20–51 30 ayali-darshan lapis lazuli, silver, and gold to the Sea in order to persuade him to recede (ll. 16–24). As none of the gods is brave enough to carry out the task (l. 25), they appeal to Anzili (= Šauška), the Queen of Nineveh:24 10 . . . [daga]nzipaš tagganī karittiš 11 ḪUR.SAG[MEŠ-aš? . . . I]NA ?paššuwaš kišantati 12 lelḫuwarti[maš?25 utn]ē anda kāriyēr 13 [arāe]r lelḫurtimaš 14nu šarāD UTU D30 wemi[er] 15[nu šar]ā nepišaš MULḪI.A-uš we[mier] 16 [DKu]marbiš uddār ANA DINGIRMEŠ memiškiuwa[n dāiš] 17[GAL?-i]š DINGIRMEŠ -eš UL kuin DINGIR-LAM šekkuwēn 18nu[. . .š]ekkuwēn Arunan 19 n=an=za KI-aš ḫašša kuw[a?-. . .] 20utatten Aruni arkamman 21[N]A4kunnan26 NA4ZA.GÌN NA4parašḫaš KÙ.BÀBBÀR GUŠKIN A-ni an[da GAR-ru?]27 22[nu=kan A-n]i anda peššiyaweni 23 nu GIM-an Arunaš arkamm[an . . .] 24[. . .]arāntari 25 nu=kan DINGIRMEŠ-aš ištarna UL kui[ški . . .] 26 eḫu DIŠTAR-li URUNinuwaš MUNUS.LUGAL nu ×[. . .] 24 25 26 27 . . . in the midst of [the ear]th, the floods [on] the mount[ains . . .] were o[n] the terraces. The floodwa[ters] covered the [lan]d, The floodwaters [ros]e, [re]eached up to the sun and moon, [reach]ed up to the stars of heavens. [Ku]marbi [began] to say the (following) words to the gods: “[O gre]at gods, which god have we not known? We have known the Sea. to the furnace of the earth . . . him . . . Give tribute to the Sea! [Put] copper, lapis lazuli, parašḫaš, silver, gold in the water! We will throw . . . into [the wat]er. When the Sea the tribute . . . . . . they stand.” Amongst the gods, no[ne . . .] “Come, Anzili, Queen of Nineveh . . .” Houwink ten Cate, “The Hittite Storm God,” 117. For the following text, see Schwemer, Die Wettergottgestalten, 451–54; J-F. Blam, “Le Chant de l’Océan: Fragment KBo XXVI 105,” in Antiquus Oriens: Mélanges offerts au professeur René Lebrun (ed. O. Casabonne and M. Mazoyer; Paris: L’Harmattan, 2004); Rieken et al., hethiter.net/: CTH 346.9 (2009); T. Schneider, “Texte über den syrischen Wettergott aus Ägypten,” UF 35 (2003), 605–7; Haas, Die hethitische Literatur, 151–52. Scholars named the text the Song of the Sea on the basis of its content. Following HED 5: 82, s.v. lelḫu(wa). For NA4kunnan as copper, see HED 4: 308–310, s.v. ku(wa)nna(n); Rieken et al., 2009. Following Schwemer, Die Wettergottgestalten, 452; Rieken et al., 2009; CHD P 139b interpolates: an[da kittari?]; Blam, “Le Chant de l’Océan”: anian[zi] (following A.M. Polvani, La terminologia dei minerali nei testi ittiti [Eothen 3; Fierenze: Elite, 1988] 71). Journal of ancient near eastern religions 15 (2015) 20–51 the other version of the story of the storm god ’ s combat 31 The allusion to Kumarbi in this text indicates its Hurrian provenance. The fact that it also refers to the Sea, the Storm-god, and Šauška of Nineveh—all of whom are central figures in the Song of Ḫedammu and the Song of Ullikummi— led Houwink ten Cate and others to conclude that it, too, belongs to the Kumarbi Cycle.28 Its contents clearly clash with this cycle; however, it—rather surprisingly—demonstrates far closer affinities with the Egyptian Astarte Papyrus.29 An examination of the Egyptian parallels is thus in order. B Version A as Reflected in the Egyptian Texts The Astarte Papyrus (pAmherst 9) was composed or written down in Egypt close to the middle of the second millennium BCE. The discovery of the first column (pBN 202) in the La Bibliothèque nationale de France in 2000 by P. Collombert and L. Coulon demonstrates that it is dedicated to Amenhotep II.30Although only the beginning of the composition has been preserved, line 1.2 indicates the subject with it deals: “. . . that he performed for the Ennead (i.e., the Egyptians gods)31 in order to fight the Sea (irw.f n t3 psḏt r ʿḥ3 ḥnʿ p3 Ym).” We thus now know that the Papyrus explicitly refers to combat with the Sea (Ym), although the actual depiction of the struggle has not survived. The allusion to Seth in the continuation and the latter’s battle against the Sea in other Egyptian texts (see below) allows us to identify him as the protagonist who struggles against the Sea on behalf of the Egyptian gods.32 Seth representing the heads of the foreign pantheons—such as the Canaanite Baal and the 28 29 30 31 32 Houwink ten Cate, “The Hittite Storm God,” 117; cf. Rutherford, “The Song of the Sea,” 603; Schwemer, Die Wettergottgestalten, 454; Blam, Antiquus Oriens, 69; Haas, Die hethitische Literatur, 152. For an alternative view, see Archi, “Orality, Direct Speech and the Kumarbi Cycle” and below. While Houwink ten Cate (“The Hittite Storm God,” 117) notes the full parallelism here, he does not examine its significance in relation to Kumarbi’s nature as described in the Hurro-Hittite fragment. P. Collombert and L. Coulon, “Les dieux contre la mer: Le début du ‘papyrus d’Astarte’ (pBN 202),” BIFAO 100 (2000): 193–242. The Ennead may refer to a group of certain gods or constitute a general name (from the Middle Kingdom onward). The extant lines of the Astarte Papyrus mention six gods who do not form part of any known group. Although this was pointed out early on by Gardiner (“The Astarte Papyrus,” 81), not all scholars concurred with his assessment. The Astarte Papyrus was given its name on the basis of its multiple references to Astarte. Today, it has become clear that its primary subject is not Astarte, of course. Journal of ancient near eastern religions 15 (2015) 20–51 32 ayali-darshan Hurrian Teššub33—his depiction as fighting the Sea in similar fashion to these gods comes as no surprise. The account given in the extant columns of the Astarte Papyrus is as follows. The Sea covers the whole earth. Renenutet (rnnwtt), the Harvest-goddess— not to be confused with Renenet (rnnt), the goddess of fate34—is instructed to send tribute of silver, gold and lapis lazuli to the Sea in order to appease him:35 1,x+10 . . . ḫr m.k[tw.tw]ḥr in n.f inw[. . .] 1,x+11[. . .] . . . r-pw iw.f r iṯt n m ḥ3[q . . .] 1,x+12 . . . [. . .ʿḥʿ.n f3 Rn]nwtt p3i.f inw m ḥḏ nbw ḫsbd [. . .] n3 n pds.w ʿḥʿ.n ḏd. n.sn n 1,x+13 t3 psḏt[. . .]p3 inw n p3 Ym sḏm.f n.n mdwt[nb n p3 iwtn?] ḫww m ḏrt.f in iw iw.f 33 34 35 “. . . Now, behold, tribute has been brought to him . . . otherwise he would take us as plun[der . . .”] . . .[Then] Renenutet [took] his tribute of silver, gold, lapis lazuli, [. . . inside] the boxes. Then they said to the Ennead: “. . . the tribute of the Sea, that he may hear for us [all] the matters [of the earth?], protected from his hand.” Thus, for example, the Egyptian version of the treaty between Ramases II and Hattušili III refers to the Hittite gods as “Seth of the city of Zipalanda, Seth of the city of Arina,” etc., the Hittite version speaking rather of Teššub and the Sun-goddess. In the account of the conquest of Jaffa, the god of Jaffa is called Seth, this apparently being the designation of a local Canaanite god. The Victory Stele of Merenptah, which commemorates the Pharaoh’s victory over the Libyans, states that because Seth abandoned them all the Libyans’ property was burnt. Here, Seth represents the Libyan god Ash. The first evidence of Seth’s identification with a foreign deity is found apparently in a Sidonian seal from the end of the Twelfth Dynasty (1800–1650 BCE.), which refers to “Seth (or Baal?), Lord of I3ii” (written with the “Seth animal” sign and “foreign land” signifier of the land of I3ii in the region of Lebanon): see H.-C. Lofet, “The Sidon Scaraboid S/3487,” AHL 24 (2006): 78–85; O. Goldwasser, “Horus is Hathor?: The Invention of the Alphabet in Sinai,” Ä&L 16 (2006), 123. For a discussion of Seth’s positive status in Egypt during the New Kingdom period and his association with the wind and rain due to his assimilation with the Storm-god, see, for example, H. te Velde, Seth, God of Confusion: A Study of His Role in Egyptian Mythology and Religion (Leiden: Brill, 1967), 122–26. In earlier periods, Seth was linked with the negative desert sand storms rather than the (positive) rain storms prevalent in the Levant and Anatolia. Cf. Collombert and Coulon, “Les dieux contre la mer,” 203. For the following text, see Gardiner, Late Egyptian Stories; idem, “The Astarte Papyrus”; Collombert and Coulon, “Les dieux contre la mer”; R.K. Ritner, “The Legend of Astarte and the Tribute of the Sea (1.23),” in The Context of Scripture (ed. W. Hallo; Leiden: Brill, 1997), 1:35–36; E.F. Wente, “Astarte and the Insatiable Sea,” in The Literature of Ancient Egypt (3d ed.; ed. W.K. Simpson; New Haven: Yale University, 2003), 108–11; Schneider, “Texte über den syrischen Wettergott aus Ägypten,” 610–17. Journal of ancient near eastern religions 15 (2015) 20–51 the other version of the story of the storm god ’ s combat 33 Following a lacuna of six lines, one of the gods commands a bird to go to Astarte’s home and wake her so that she herself will take the offering to the Sea: 2,x+3 . . . iw Rnnwtt ḥr ṯ3y wʿ [. . .]ʿstrt ʿḥʿ.n ḏd.n [. . . wʿ n] 2,x+4 3pd.w sḏm ḏd.ti.i im.k rwi.k [. . .] ky yḥ šmt.k n ʿky [t . . .] 2,x+5 p3y.s pr ḥnʿ ntk ḫrw ẖr [. . . im.]s qd ḥnʿ ntk ḏd n.s ir wn [tw.t rs.ti . . .] . . . Renenutet took a . . . Astarte. Then [Renenutet?] said [to one of] the birds: “Hear what I have to say. Do not depart . . . another. Hurry! Go to Astart[e . . .] her house, and (shout in) a loud voice beneath [the window of the room where] she sleeps and say to her: ‘If [you are awake, listen,] 2,x+6 ir wn tw.t m qd iry.i n [hs.t . . .] p3 if you are asleep, I [shall wake you. The Ym m ḥq3 ḥr p3 [iwtn ḥnʿ n3 n ḏw.w ḥnʿ] Ennead has to take tribute to] the Sea as the ruler over the [earth and mountains and]36 2,x+7 t3 pt iḫ iw.t ḫr.sn m t3 [wnwt] the heavens. Please, come before them n[ow . . .] 2,x+8 [. . .ʿ3]mw iw ʿst[rt . . .]. . [from the land? of the Can]aanites’. Then Astar[te . . .]. . . , 2 x+10 [. . .]t3 šrit Ptḥ ist[. . .]. . . . . . the daughter of Ptah . . . 2,x+12 [. . .]šmt ḏs.t ẖry p3 inw “. . . You yourself go bearing the tribute to n [p3 Ym . . .] [the Sea . . .”] 2,x+13 wn.in ʿstrt ḥr rm[w . . .]. . Then Astarte wep[t . . .]. . . Despite her reluctance, Astarte performs the mission asked of her. Very few lines of her encounter with the Sea have survived, and these describe how she sings to and laughs before him (ḥsy ḥr sbt im.f ). The sexual nature of this performance is intimated by the Sea’s sarcastic query regarding her naked body: 2,x+18 [. . .] ptr ʿstrt iw.s ḥms.ti ḥr smyt p3 Ym ʿḥʿ.n ḏd.n.f n.s ii.t [ṯn]w t3 šrit Ptḥ t3 nṯrt qndt nšny 2,x+19 in iw ng3w.t? n3y ṯ(b).wt nty rd.wy in iw sd n3y.t ḥbs.w nty ḥr.t m p3 šmt iit ir.n<.t> m t3 pt ḥnʿ p3 t3 36 [Then the Sea] saw Astarte as she was sitting on the shore of the sea. Then he said to her: “[Wher]e have you come from, O daughter of Ptah, O furious and tempestuous goddess? Have you worn out the sandals that are on your feet? Have the clothes that are on you been torn by your going and coming through the sky and earth?” Cf. l. 14y below. Journal of ancient near eastern religions 15 (2015) 20–51 34 ayali-darshan Afterwards, Astarte returns and reports to the Ennead council how she has fared (ll. 3,y-1 – y). Following another short lacuna, the tribute to the Sea is depicted again—this time Ptah (the head of the gods in Memphis), Nut (the Heaven-god), and Geb (the Earth-god) being mentioned. Nut unties a necklace around her neck while Geb apparently gives his seal. A hundred or so lines further on, the Sea’s covering the earth, the mountains, and the heavens is again depicted. All these details demonstrate that Astarte’s mission fails and that the Sea continues to threaten the gods: n3 n [bḥ]bḥy.[w . . .] iw n3 <n> bḥbḥy.w [. . .] p3 wpwty n Ptḥ ḥr šmt r ḏd nn n mdt n Ptḥ n Nwt wn.in Nwt ḥr iṯt n3 n bḥbḥy.w nty r ḫḫ.s m.k rdi.n.s r p3 iwsw [. . .] The [be]ad[s . . .]. The beads . . . The messenger of Ptah went to tell these words to Ptah and Nut. Then Nut took the beads that were on her neck. Lo, she placed (them) on the scales . . . 5,y [sḫ]n pw m-ʿ t3 psḏt ḫr h3b.f dbḥ.f [. . .] “. . . this [contention?] with the [. . .]p3 ḫtm n Gb [. . .]p3 iwsw im.f ḫr . . .[. . .] Ennead. Therefore he shall send and request . . . the seal of Geb . . . the scales with it . . .” lacuna of more than 100 lines 14,y [. . . p3 Y]m ḥnʿ ntf n[. . .] r ḥbsw “[the S]ea. And he shall . . . to cover p3 iwtn ḥnʿ n3 n ḏw.w ḥn the earth and the mountains 15,1 [t3 pt . . .] [and the heavens . . .”].37 4,y-1 4,y In the fragmented continuation, Seth appears (l. 15y) in conjunction with a verb indicating fighting (ʿḥ3), thereby intimating the content of the missing plot (the end of which is now clear from the prefatory statement in the first line). Several Egyptian spells inform of us of the way in which Seth the Storm-god may have battled against the Sea. The Hearst Medical Papyrus (11:3) suggests that Seth casts a spell (“tie”) on the Sea (. . . ir mi šn.n Stḫ p3 w3ḏ-wr)—the latter ultimately yielding to his authority (. . . mi sḏm p3 Ym ḫrw Stš) according to the Greater Berlin Papyrus (3038, 21.2–3).38 The Leiden Magical Papyrus I 343 + I 345 37 38 As per Ritner’s reconstruction. Collombert and Coulon interpolate n3 n dhyn.wt—“the peaks”—according to line 1.6 above. For the first incantation, see H. Grapow, Die medizinischen Texte in hieroglyphischer Umschreibung autographiert (Grundriss der Medizin der alten Ägypter; Berlin: AkademieVerlag, 1958), 5:440; H. Goedicke, “The Canaanite Illness,” SAK 11 (1984), 94–100; J. van Dijk, Journal of ancient near eastern religions 15 (2015) 20–51 the other version of the story of the storm god ’ s combat 35 recto V 1–2 combining Seth, Baal, and the divine Wind represents Baal striking with spears of ʿš (ḥwi Bʿr r.k m p3 ʿš nty m ḏrt.f wḥm.f tw m n3 n ḥny(w)t n ʿš nty n ḏrt.f )—an image also reflected in the well-known Ugarit stele Baal au foudre (RS 4.427= AO 15.775, cf. seal RS 9273). In another section (recto II 2–3), Seth and Baal are portrayed as fighting with a scimitar and ktp (p3 ḫpš Stḫ r.k . . . p3 ktp n Bʿr m ḏ3ḏ3.k).39 These Egyptian incantations attest further to the fact that the story of the Storm-god’s combat with the Sea also spread across Egypt. C The Provenance of Version A The affinities between the Egyptian Astarte Papyrus and the Hurro-Hittite Song of the Sea are striking. Both depict the Sea covering the earth, the Graingod/desses (Kumarbi in the Hurro-Hittite text, Renenutet in the Egyptian text) suggesting that tribute be paid to the Sea in order to induce him to recede, and the goddess closest to the Storm-god (Anzili/Šauška in the Hurro-Hittite text, Astarte in the Egyptian text) being called upon to deliver it. Although the Hurro-Hittite text is broken off at this point, according to the Song of Ḫedammu (and the parallel scene in the Song of Ullikummi), the goddess entices the seamonster by undressing—her furious and tempestuous character is adduced 39 “ʿAnat, Seth and the Seed of Preʿ,” in Scripta Signa Vocis: Studies about Scripts, Scriptures, Scribes and Languages in the Near East (ed. H.L.J. Vanstiphout et al.; Gröningen: John Benjamins, 1986), 37. This spell pre-dates the Astarte Papyrus by at least a century, belonging to the period prior to Thutmose III’s conquests. For the latter incantation, see Grapow, Die medizinischen Texte, 4: 145, 5: 267–268; Borghouts, Ancient Egyptian Magical Texts, 46 (no. 73) and n. 61. For the incantation, see A. Massart, The Leiden Magical Papyrus I 343 + I 345 (OMROSupp; Leiden: Brill, 1954), 16–17, 64–70; J.F. Borghouts, Ancient Egyptian Magical Texts (Leiden: Brill, 1978), 18–19 (# 23). Both these occurrences relating to the Babylonian demon Smn, their Canaanite background is intimated by the fact that Baal (and Seth) constitutes the protagonist, holding a Canaanite weapon in his hand (ḥnyt and ktp). In the first instance, the Sea is also mentioned, unfortunately in a fragmentary text. For the Lebanese provenance of the ʿš-wood, see F.B. Chatonnet, “Les textes relatifs au cèdre du Liban dans l’Antiquité,” AHL 14 (2001): 42–48. For ktp see R.T. O’Callaghan, “The Word ktp in Ugaritic and Egypto-Canaanite Mythology,” Orientalia 21 (1952): 37–46. For the Canaanite background of The Leiden Magical Papyrus I 343 + I 345, see te-Velde, Seth, God of Confusion, 123; S. Morenz, Egyptian Religion (trans. A.E. Keep; Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1973), 343, n. 36; N. Ayali-Darshan, “The Identification of Ḥmrq in Leiden Magical Papyrus I 343 + I 345 in Light of the Eblaite Texts,” JNES (forthcoming). Journal of ancient near eastern religions 15 (2015) 20–51 36 ayali-darshan here in similar fashion to her depiction in the Astarte Papyrus.40 Despite their fragmentary state, the correspondences between these texts are too close to be coincidental. Both the Egyptians and Hurrians thus appear to have been familiar with a myth of the Storm-god’s combat with the Sea that began with the Sea seeking to impose his authority over the gods and thus overwhelming the earth. In order to appease him, the Grain-god/dess proposed that he be paid tribute. The Storm-god’s wife or sister is selected to deliver this to him—apparently by means of seduction. While the final outcome is unknown on account of the fragmentary state of the sources, all of them indicate that the Storm-god eventually came and conquered the Sea, thereby releasing the gods from his power. While other extant versions of the story of the Storm-god’s combat with the Sea—Enūma eliš and various biblical passages—would lead us to expect that, in the wake of this victory, the Storm-god set about creating the world, this is not in fact the case. Both the Astarte Papyrus and the Hurro-Hittite Song of the Sea describe the dry land and the heavens that the Sea filled, elements that were evidently already being in existence prior to the conflict. The Astarte Papyrus explicitly adduces creation prior to the commencement of the struggle: 1,x+5 ʿḥʿ.n ḥpt s [nb p3y.f sn . . .] ḥr-s3 [×] hrw.w iw t3 pt [ḥr . . .] 1,x+6 ḥr h3yt ḥ [r . . .] p3 Ym iw [. . . p3 iw] 1,x+7 tn ḥr msw [. . .] p3 4 idb.w n p3 [iwtn . . .] So [each] one embraced [the other . . .]. After [X]41 days, the heavens . . . descended upon . . . the Sea, and . . . [the ear]th gave birth [to . . .] the four corners of the [earth?42. . .] This version of the hostilities between the Storm-god and the Sea thus clearly contained the story of the gods’ fear of the Sea, the Grain-god/dess’s attempts to appease him, and the Storm-god’s ultimate victory over him—but not the creation narrative. 40 41 42 Cf. Houwink ten Cate, “The Hittite Storm God,” 118. For the affinities between the Astarte Papyrus and the Song of Ḫedammu (and the Song of Ullikummi)—especially with respect to the role of the goddess who entices the Sea—see also Gaster, “The Egyptian ‘Story of Astarte’ ”; Siegelová, Appu-Märchen und Ḫedammu-Mythus, 81, 88. Gardiner’s (Late Egyptian Stories, 76a) suggested reconstruction of “seven days” is accepted by the majority of scholars. Schneider (“Texte über den syrischen Wettergott aus Ägypten,” 613) prefers “forty days.” Following Gardiner (“The Astarte Papyrus,” 81). Ritner (“The Legend of Asterte and the Tribute of the Sea”) suggests “the four banks of the [sea?].” Journal of ancient near eastern religions 15 (2015) 20–51 the other version of the story of the storm god ’ s combat 37 How the Egyptians and Hurrians did both become acquainted with the same version of the Storm-god’s combat with the Sea? The links between the two cultures are, of course, well known—the El-Amarna letters, for example, reveal that the king of Mittani sent a statue of Šauška (Ištar of Nineveh) to the palace of the Egyptian king, thus possibly providing a conduit for the transmission of Hurrian traditions regarding the goddess and her brother the Storm-god and their struggle against the Sea to Egypt.43 This theory, however, does not account for the fact that the Astarte Papyrus exhibits no Hurrian traces, rather reflecting distinctively Levantine features—Astarte and the Sea (here called Ym) are both Canaanite gods. While the goddess Astarte and the noun Ym were prevalent in Egypt from the great conquests of Amenhotep II’s father, Thutmose III, only here and in The Two Brothers—whose affinities with Canaan have long been recognized—is the sea represented as an (evil) anthropomorphic figure.44 It seems less plausible that the Egyptians inherited it from the Hurrians (as W. Helck suggests),45 by replacing Šauška with Astarte and the Hurrian Kiyaše (sea) with Ym in place of the names of their own gods. The converse argument—namely, that the composition was originally Egyptian, as was suggested by G. Posener, and made its way to the Hurrians— is equally unlikely.46 The clearest evidence of the fact that it was imported by the Egyptians lies in the opening scene, which depicts the earth as a life-giving entity (l. 1,x+7)—an idea incommensurate with the Egyptian notion of the 43 44 45 46 See EA 23, in which Tušratta stresses to Amenhotep III that the goddess Šauška of Nineveh—i.e., her statue—had resided in Egypt in the past. For ym in Egypt, see now J.F. Quack, “Zur Frage des Meeres in ägyptischen Texten,” OLZ 97 (2002): 453–63. W3ḏ-wr is depicted only once as a creature (“giving life”)—in a drawing from the tomb of Sahure (Fifth Dynasty) at Abu-Sir: see R. Stadelmann, SyrischPalästinensische Gottheitan in Ägypten (Leiden: Brill, 1967), 34. For the Canaanite motifs in The Two Brothers and the scene concerning the ʿš forest near the sea in particular, see W. Wettengel, Die Erzählung von den beiden Brüdern: Der Papyrus d’Orbiney und die Königsideologie der Ramessiden (OBO 195; Freiburg: Universitätsverlag, 2003); T. Schneider, “Innovation in Literature on Behalf of Politics: The Tale of the Two Brothers, Ugarit, and the 19th Dynasty History,” Ä&L 18 (2008): 315–26; N. Ayali-Darshan, “The Cedar Forest’s Traditions in the Egyptian Tale of The Two Brothers and Genesis 2–3,” Shnaton 22 (2013), 147–164 (Hebrew). W. Helck, “Zur Herkunft der Erzählung dessog. ‘Astartepapyrus,’ ” in Fontes atque Pontes: Eine Fest-gabe für Hellmut Brunner (ed. M. Görg; Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 1983), 215–23. Posener, “La légende Égyptienne de la mer insatiable”; cf. Vandersleyen, Ouadj our, 96–97; Shupak, “‘He Hath Subdued the Water Monster/Crocodile.’ ” Journal of ancient near eastern religions 15 (2015) 20–51 38 ayali-darshan earth as a masculine entity.47 The concept of the “four corners of the earth” is also not an Egyptian notion, but rather a common image of the Asiatic regions.48 The doxological preface (unknown to Posener)—“I shall praise . . . I shall praise the heavens . . . the earth” (dw3.i ti [. . .] dw3.i [p3 iwtn?] . . . dw3.i t3 pt [m t3y].s st . . . p3 iwtn[. . .])—is also prevalent amongst the ancient Near Eastern cultures, well known in Ugaritic, Mesopotamian, and Hurrian—but not Egyptian literature.49 Thus the Hurrian Song of the Sea discussed above (KUB 45.63), for example, opens with the words: “I will sing of the Sea (šir=ad=i=l=e Kiyaše). Version A of the Storm-god’s combat with the Sea account therefore appears to have been transmitted from the Levant (but evidently not from the Ugaritic version of Ilimilku: see below) to the Egyptian and the Hurrian cultures. While the Hurrians changed the names of the gods but not the Levantine geographical setting of Mount Ḫazzi, the Egyptians retained the names of the Canaanite gods known in Egypt and altered all the others.50 Astarte and Ym (the Sea) 47 48 49 50 This fact was noted by Gardiner: “I can make nothing of the words ‘[the] earth gave birth . . .’ in 1,x+7, if indeed this be the right translation; the earth is a male” (“The Astarte Papyrus,” 78, n. 3). Cf. Helck, “Zur Herkunft der Erzählung dessog. ‘Astartepapyrus,’ ” 218– 19; Wente, “Astarte and the Insatiable Sea,” 109, n. 5. The phrase “the four corners” as designating a broad expanse is known in Sumerian (anub-da.[k] límmu-bi-a[k]) and Akkadian (tubuqāt / kibrat erbetti): see W. Horowitz, Mesopotamian Cosmic Geography (Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 1998), 298–99. For its occurrence in the Hebrew Bible, see Isa 11:12; Ezek. 7:2. It also possibly occurs in Hittite (ḫalḫaltumar[i]): see HED 3:21. Schneider (“Texte über den syrischen Wettergott aus Ägypten,” 614) thus correctly argues that it is borrowed from the Asiatic regions. For a survey of prominent later Egyptian examples, see J.F. Quack, “Erzählen als Preisen: Vom Astartepapyrus zu den koptischen Märtyrerlegenden,” in Das Erzählen in frühen Hochkulturen I. Der Fall Ägypten (ed. H. Roeder; Munich: Fink, 2009), 291–312. In addition to the “Asian” motifs cited above, Gaster (“The Egyptian ‘Story of Astarte,’ ” 83) notes that the birds sent to Astarte constitute a Canaanite-Syrian legacy—Lucian frequently referring in De dea syria to the sanctity attributed to the doves in the Temple of Atragatis, an incarnation of Astarte(-Anat); cf. also O. Kaiser, Die mythische Bedeutung des Meeres in Ägypten, Ugarit und Israel (Berlin: de Gruyter, 1962), 85. Although not unusual, the relatively high number of imported Semitic words in this fragmented text should also be noted: see Collombert and Coulon, “Les dieux contre la mer,” 220–21. Adaptations such as these in different societies are well known in the study of folklore, Honko referring to them as “milieu-morphological adaptation” and “tradition-morphological adaptation”: L. Honko, “Four Forms of Adaptation of Tradition,” Studia Fennica 26 (1981): 19–33. According to von Sydow’s terminology, the story was ecotypified in each culture—i.e., partially adapted to its new culture while retaining some of the original elements: see C.W. von Sydow, “Geography and Folk-Tale Oicotypes,” in C.W. Sydow: Selected Papers on Folklore (ed. L. Bødker; Copenhagen: Rosenkilde and Bagger, 1948), 44–55. Journal of ancient near eastern religions 15 (2015) 20–51 the other version of the story of the storm god ’ s combat 39 are consequently retained, and Seth—long merged with Baal—serves as the protagonist of the story.51 In other words, the Levantine setting adduced in the Hurro-Hittite writings and the West-Semitic names of the gods employed in the parallel Egyptian source signify that this text—Version A—originated in the area around Mount Ṣaphon (Ṣpn) = Ḫazzi, where the West-Semitic names Astarte (ʿṯtrt) and Yamm (Ym) were in use. How can we explain the deeply-rooted Hurrian and Egyptian adoption of this account—to the point that the former declaimed it during ritual ceremonies and made it part of their indigenous literature, and the latter wrote it down in honor of king Amenhotep II? The Canaanite influence upon Egypt— in particular in the wake of the conquests of Thutmose III, during the reign of whose son the Astarte Papyrus was written down—has long been recognized. One of the most striking exemplifications of this process is the Egyptian adoption of the Canaanite pantheon. One may plausibly assume that the traditions concerning these gods made their way to Egypt concurrently with this penetration.52 With respect to the Hurrians, we may assume the existence of a different source that was influential among them and intermediated between them and Canaanite culture. Numerous pieces of evidence suggest that the temple of Haddu, the Aleppan Storm-god, served this purpose. At the beginning of the second millennium BCE, Aleppo was the capital of the kingdom of Yamḫad— the principal political and cultural centre of the region during this period, whose influence on the surrounding area was widely acknowledged. The fall of Yamḫad had no effect on the stature of Haddu of Aleppo—subsequently frequently referred to as Teššub of Aleppo.53 51 52 53 The name Baal is evidenced in Egypt from the Ramesside period onward—i.e., after the composition of the Astarte Papyrus. Before this period, the name Seth denoted Baal: see te Velde, Seth, God of Confusion, 120, and n. 33 below. For the influence of Canaanite culture on Egypt, see W. Helck, Die Beziehungen Ägyptens zu Vorderasien im 3. Und 2. Jahrtausend vor Chr. (2d ed.; Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 1971); Stedelmann, Syrisch-Palästinensische Gottheitan in Ägypten; K. Tazawa, Syro-Palestinian Deities in New Kingdom Egypt: The Hermeneutics of their Existence (BAR International Series 1965; Oxford: British Archaeological Reports, 2009). It should be noted that the Canaanites settled and worshipped their gods either in Memphis—the birthplace of Amenhotep II, to whom the Astarte Papyrus is dedicated—and in Perunefer near Avaris, Amenhotep II’s adult place of residence. For the Temple of Haddu in Aleppo and the worship of this god during the Old Babylonian period, see H. Klengel, “Der Wettergott von Halab,” JCS 19 (1965): 87–95; M. Popko, “Zum Wettergott von Halab,” AoF 25 (1998): 119–25; Schwemer, Die Wettergottgestalten, 226–37; G. Bunnens, “The Storm-God in Northern Syria and Southern Anatolia from Hadad of Journal of ancient near eastern religions 15 (2015) 20–51 40 ayali-darshan Seeing that Several Aleppan traditions concerning the city’s supreme god were transmitted to the Hurrians living in Kizzuwatna—such as those concerning Mount Ḫazzi, Haddu’s wife Ḫebat, and several festivals—we might conjecture that the story of the Storm-god’s combat with the Sea also became known to the Hurrians by way of the temple of Haddu.54 The well-known letter sent from the Mari envoy in Aleppo to Zimri-līm, king of Mari (A.1968) confirms that Haddu of Aleppo was regarded as the protagonist of the story of the Storm-god’s struggle against the Sea in Yamḫad as early as the eighteenth century BCE. According to this document, Haddu proclaimed to the last king of Mari via Abiya the Answerer: “I have given you the weapon with which I battled the Sea (kakkī ša itti têmtim amtaḫṣu addinakkum).”55 These facts not only confirm that the story of the fight against the Sea was attributed to Haddu in Aleppo but also indicate that this form of the myth was disseminated in the region through the unique ritual of the transfer of Haddu’s weapons.56 Another letter (A.1858) affirms that Haddu’s weapon indeed arrived in Mari, where it was placed in the temple of Dagan in Terqa.57 The suggestion that Version A of the Storm-god’s combat with the Sea was transmitted via Aleppo helps to explain its prevalence among the Hurrians58— 54 55 56 57 58 Aleppo to Jupiter Dolichenus,” in Offizielle Religion, lokale Kulte und individuelle Religiosität (AOAT 318; ed. M. Hutter and S. Hutter-Braunsar; Münster: Ugarit Verlag, 2004), 57–81. For the transmission of Haddu of Aleppo’s worship to the Hurrians, see the references below. Cf. M. Popko, Religion of Asia Minor (Warsaw: Dialog, 1995), 95–102; idem, “Zum Wettergott von Halab”; Schwemer, Die Wettergottgestalten, 494–502; P. Taracha, Religions of Second Millennium Anatolia (Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz 2009), 118–22, 137–41 and passim. For the text see J-M. Durand, “Le mythologème du combat entre le dieu de l’orage et la mer en mésopotamie,” MARI 7 (1993): 41–61; idem, FM 7: Le Culte d’Addu d’Alep et l’affaire d’Alahtum (Mémoires de NABU 3; Paris: SEPOA, 2002). 134–35. For the significance of the means of transmission, see von Sydow, “Geography and FolkTale Oicotypes”; Honko, “Four Forms of Adaptation of Tradition.” See Durand, FM 7: Le Culte d’Addu d’Alep et l’affaire d’Alahtum, 15. The view that this constitutes the same weapon is accepted by most scholars: cf. Durand, “Le mythologème du combat,” 52–53; Schwemer, Die Wettergottgestalten, 215–16. Kohlmeier and Hawkins both argue that a club held by a figure (the Storm-god of Aleppo?) depicted on a relief of the Temple of Haddu in Aleppo built by Taita king of Palastini (from end of the second millennium or the beginning of the first millennium BCE.), may represent the weapon which Haddu employed in his conflict with the Sea, its significance being adduced in the inscription placed above the figure: “The divine (DEUS) club”: see K. Kohlmeier, “The Temple of the Storm God in Aleppo During the Late Bronze and Early Iron Ages,” NEA 72 (2009): 190–201; J.D. Hawkins, “Cilicia, The Amuq and Aleppo: New Light in a Dark Age,” NEA 72 (2009): 164–173. Cf. Schwemer (Die Wettergottgestalten, 226–37) and Popko (“Zum Wettergott von Halab”). The references to Ym and Astarte in the Astarte Papyrus attest to the fact that the Egyptians Journal of ancient near eastern religions 15 (2015) 20–51 the other version of the story of the storm god ’ s combat 41 and possibly some of the traditions of which it is comprised. Let me adduce one example in this respect—namely, the Grain-god/dess’s dominant role. Egyptologists have expressed surprise over the fact that the minor goddess Renenutet is responsible for the important task of delivering the tribute— which does not contain any crops—to the Sea in the Astarte Papyrus.59 The curiosity is resolved, however, when one recognizes that Renenutet is used because she parallels Kumarbi the Grain-god in the Hurro-Hittite Song of the Sea.60 While Kumarbi, like Renenutet, takes the tribute to the Sea in order to appease him, Kumarbi is not a minor deity but the head of the Hurrian pantheon and the equivalent of Enlil, Dagan, and El—and thus the appropriate personage to deliver the tribute to Sea.61 At the same time, however, Kumarbi plays an unusual role in the Song of the Sea—presenting him with tribute in order to save the gods rather than serving as his ally and terrorizing the gods, as in the Song of Ḫedammu and the Song of Ullikummi.62 Some scholars have attempted to harmonize this unique depiction of Kumarbi with the common Hurrian traditions,63 but it appears that, as in the Egyptian version, here too 59 60 61 62 63 also received this version from the West-Semitic inhabitants of Syria rather than from the Hurrians. Thus, for example, Vandersleyen (Ouadj our, 97) asserts that Crops have very little to do with the sea. In his view, Ym is thus the Nile rather than the Sea. This solution, however, does not correspond to the literal sense of the text. The identification of Kumarbi as a Grain-god is corroborated by the Hurro-Hittite sacrifice lists and the AN.TAḪ.ŠUM festival, which allude to the Mesopotamian Grain-goddess Nisaba and the Hittite Grain-goddess Ḫalki rather than to Kumarbi—as well as the rock relief from Yazilikaya that depicts Kumarbi holding a hieroglyph denoting crops: see E. Laroche, “Teššub, Ḫebat et leur cour,” JCS 2 (1948): 113–36; I. Singer, “Semitic dagān and Indo-European *dheĝhom: Related Words?,’ in The Asia Minor Connexion: Studies on the Pre-Greek Languages in Memory of Charles Carter (ed. Y.L. Arbeitman; Leuven: Peeters, 2000), 226–27; A. Archi, “Translation of Gods: Kumarpi, Enlil, Dagan/NISABA, Ḫalki,” Orientalia N.S. 73 (2004), 331. The association between Kumarbi and crops may receive additional confirmation from the Greek equivalent of Kumarbi—Cronus—whom Hesiod describes as castrating his father with a sickle (Theog. 178–81): see Hoffner, “Hittite Mythological Texts,” 139; R. Lebrun, “From Hittite Mythology: The Kumarbi Cycle,” in Civilizations of the Ancient Near East (ed. J.M. Sasson; London: Scribner, 1995), 1971. See Archi, “Translation of Gods” and the bibliography cited therein. Cf., for example, Kumarbi’s speech of regarding his expectation that his son Ullikummi would smash the gods and scatter them down from heaven (DINGIRMEŠ=ma=wa=kan ḫūmanduš [nepiš]az . . . išḫuwāu nu=war=aš dannaruš . . . a]rḫa duwarn[e]škeddu) (CTH 345.1.1:115–116). Cf., for example, Schwemer, Die Wettergottgestalten, 451; Blam, “Le Chant de l’Océan: Fragment KBo XXVI 105,” 75. Journal of ancient near eastern religions 15 (2015) 20–51 42 ayali-darshan the features attributed to the Grain-god (viz., Kumarbi) do not correspond to local tradition and are therefore clearly foreign in origin. We may therefore suggest that it was the god Dagan—the head of the pantheon throughout Syria, including Aleppo—who played this role in the version of the story known in Syria.64 The cultures surrounding appear to have transferred Dagan’s role to the local Grain-god/dess—despite the fact that the character of the local deity (Kumarbi and Renenutet) is not appropriate for the role attributed to the Grain-god in this story.65 D Version A as Reflected in Ugarit The contents of Version A adduced above—known, so it transpires, in Egypt and among the Hurrians and containing the motifs of the Grain-god/dess, the tribute to the Sea, and the (erotic) assistance of a goddess—appear to have been unknown at Ugarit. However, since traces of these motifs are evident in Ugaritic literature, the author was almost certainly familiar with this version. 64 65 As remarked above, Haddu’s weapon, for example, was deposited in the Temple of Dagan in Terqa. For Dagan in general, see L. Feliu, The God Dagan in Bronze Age Syria (trans. W.G.E. Watson; Leiden: Brill, 2003), and pp. 293–95 for his positive relation to the Stormgod. Pace Feliu it should be noted: a) that while the Ugaritic epithet “Baal son of Dagan” also appears to attest to the positive link between the two gods, this appellation does not occur in any Syrian source, with the exception of Ugarit: see now, N. Ayali-Darshan, “Baal Son of Dagan: In Search of Baal’s Double Paternity,” JAOS 133 [2013], 651–657; b) even if the Syrian god Dagan was not originally identified with the growth of crops (Feliu, The God Dagan, 278–87), his name came to be interpreted in this sense at a certain point. See the scholars cited in n. 60, above—the majority of whom accept the antiquity of Dagan’s association with grain. See also E. J. Pentiuc, West Semitic Vocabulary in the Akkadian Texts from Emar (Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2001), s.v. da-ga-na-[ti]; E. Lipiński, “Dagan, the Master of Ploughing,” in The Ancient Near East, A Life!: Festschrift Karel Van Lerberghe (ed. T. Boiy et al.; Leuven: Peeters, 2012), 336. It is noteworthy that the Grain-god served no significant role in the coastal Levantine countries during the second millennium BCE., Baal rather functioning therein as both Storm- and Grain-god. The Baal Cycle thus depicts the withering of the fields as the consequence of Baal’s death at the hands of Mot and the seeking after him amongst the furrows (KTU 1.6 III–IV). The coastal Levant therefore cannot form the original setting of the motif under investigation here. The involvement of the goddess who entices the Sea apparently constitutes another example of a motif whose origins lay in Inner-Syria: see Ayali-Darshan, “The Dispersion of the Story of the Combat between the Storm-god and the Sea.” Journal of ancient near eastern religions 15 (2015) 20–51 the other version of the story of the storm god ’ s combat 43 The Ugaritic story of the Storm-god’s combat with the Sea is integrated within the six tablets of the Baal Cycle, forming approximately a third of this account. Like the latter parts of the Cycle, the story of Baal’s combat with the Sea was reworked as the result of the Ugaritic author’s interest in the royalcourt relations between the figures rather than their mythical content. The Baal Cycle thus constitutes the sole version in which the Sea (Ym) is described in a completely anthropomorphic fashion rather than terrorizing his opponent(s) with his tidal waves. Similarly, despite his status as the Storm-god, Baal does not threaten the Sea with any climatic features but is rather depicted—like the Sea himself—as a human prince who fights for his position in the royal court.66 KTU 1.2—the only tablet that specifically describes the Baal’s battle with the Sea—allows us to identify an early stratum, however, whose elements are identical with those known in Egypt and Anatolia and contradict the full Cycle.67 Thus, for example, the portrayal of El as the head of the pantheon in KTU 1.2 diverges from his delineation in the remainder of the Baal Cycle. Although he is regarded herein as the head of the gods, when the Sea’s messengers turning to him rather than to Baal in that account, they fail to show him any respect:68 66 67 68 This corresponds to the detailing of banquets, envoys, royal gifts, the erection of palaces, etc.—all of which constitute part of the royal-court milieu: see F. Stolz, “Funktionen und Bedeutungsbereiche des ugaritichen Baalmythos,” in Funktionen und Leistungen des Mythos: Drei altorientalische Beispiele (OBO 48; ed. J. Assman et al.; Freiburg: Universitätverlag, 1982), 83–118; M.S. Smith, The Ugaritic Baal Cycle (Leiden: Brill, 1994), 1:105–6; and cf. N. Wyatt, “Ilimilku the Theologian: The Ideological Roles of Athar and Baal in KTU 1.1 and 1.6,” in Ex Mesopotamia et Syria Lux: Festschrift für M. Dietrich zu seinem 65. Geburtstag (AOAT 281; eds: O. Loretz et al., Münster: Ugarit Verlag, 2002), 845–56; A. Tugendhaft, “Politics and time in the Baal Cycle,” JANER 12 (2012): 145–57. While this does not mean, as Meier argues, that KTU 1.2 originated in another cycle, the literary reworking of this tablet being identical to the remainder of the Cycle, he is nonetheless correct in noting that the tablet contains disparate traditions that, on occasion, even contradict the full Cycle: see S. Meier, “Baal’s Fight with Yam (KTU 1.2.I.IV): A Part of the Baal Myth as Known in KTU 1.1,3–6?,” UF 18 (1986): 241–54. Contra Maier, see Smith, The Ugaritic Baal Cycle, 12–14; D. Pardee, “The Baʿlu Myth (1.86),” in The Context of Scripture (ed. W. Hallo; Leiden: Brill, 1997), n. 34; M.C.A. Korpel, “Exegesis in the Work of Ilimilku of Ugarit,” in Intertextuality in Ugarit and Israel (ed. J.C. de Moor; Leiden: Brill, 1998), 90, n. 16. For the following text from KTU 1.2, see, for example, Smith, The Ugaritic Baal Cycle, 259–361; M. Dietrich and O. Loretz, Mythen und Epen IV (TUAT 3:6; Gütersloh: Gütersloher Verlagshaus, 1997), 1118–34; Pardee, “The Baʿlu Myth (1.86),” 245–49 and the bibliography cited therein. Journal of ancient near eastern religions 15 (2015) 20–51 44 ayali-darshan I 30 ʾaḫr . tmḡyn . mlʾak . Ym . tʿdt . ṯpṭ . Nhr . l pʿn . ʾIl 31 l tpl . ltštḥwy . pḫr . mʿd . qmm . ʾamr .ʾamr 32 [ṯn]y . dʿthm . ʾišt . ʾištm . yʾitmr . ḥrb . lṭšt 33 [lš]nhm Then the Sea’s messengers arrive, the embassy of Ruler River. At the feet of El they do not fall, they do not bow down (before) the assembled Council. Standing they speak (their) speech, [proclai]m their instructions. They look (like) a flame, two flames. (Like) a sharp sword— their [tong]ue. El accedes to all the requests of the Sea’s messengers in precisely the same manner as Ptah, the head of the pantheon, as described in the Egyptian Astarte Papyrus and Kumarbi in the Hurro-Hittite Song of the Sea. In contrast, in the rest of the Baal Cycle, he behaves as expected of a distinguished deity, enthroning the Sea (Ym) and Aṯtar and giving permission to build a palace, the symbol of kingship. The two antithetical figures—the god who crowns the gods on the one hand and who yields to the Sea on the other—derive from two separate traditions.69 The distinctive account of El’s submission to the Sea is evidently dependent upon the early tradition that describes the capitulation of the head of the gods to the rapacious Sea that forms the beginning of Version A of the story of the Storm-god’s combat with the Sea. El is not the only figure to yield to the Sea. KTU 1.2 explicitly notes that all the gods feared him—a fact reflected in all the versions of the story of the Storm-god’s combat with the Sea.70 In this respect, the bowing of the gods’ heads during the banquet appears to constitute a courtly reworking of the tradition concerning the gods’ apprehension of the Sea’s might: I 21–22hlm / ʾilm . tphhm . tphn . mlʾak . Ym . tʿdt . ṯpṭ[ . Nhr] 23–24t[ḡ]ly . hlm71. rʾišthm72. l ẓr . brkthm . w l kḥṯ / zblhm 69 70 71 72 There! the gods see them, see the Sea’s messengers, the embassy of Ruler [River]. The gods lower their heads onto their knees, onto their royal thrones. As far as it can be reconstructed from its fragmentary state, the preface of KTU 1.1— according to which El enthrones the Sea his son—appears to be commensurate with the remainder of the rest of the Cycle and to deviate from KTU 1.2. Cf. Enūma eliš, the Astarte Papyrus, and apparently also the Hurro-Hittite Song of the Sea—as well as compositions influenced by the story of the Storm-god’s combat with the Sea, such as the Song of Ullikummi and Job 41:5–26. Reading tḡly ʾilm; cf. l. 24. For this unique plural form, see D. Sivan, A Grammar of the Ugaritic Language (2d ed; Leiden: Brill, 1997), 63. Journal of ancient near eastern religions 15 (2015) 20–51 the other version of the story of the storm god ’ s combat 45 The scholarly claim that the conflict was originally between Baal and the Sea alone may derive from the slight resemblance this account bears to the narrative of Baal’s battles against Mot (which does not form part of the tradition of the story of the Storm-god’s combat with the Sea)—or possibly from an attempt to harmonize the portrayal of El’s enthronement of the Sea in KTU 1.1 with the depiction of the Sea’s aggression towards El in KTU 1.2.73 Another indicator of the earlier stratum in KTU 1.2 is the fact that it is the sole text in the Baal Cycle to refer to Astarte as Baal’s ally. The remainder of the Ugaritic literature—including the Baal Cycle itself—gives prominence to Anat over her equivalent Astarte.74 The Ugaritic author appears to have been familiar with the tradition linking Astarte with the Storm-god’s battle against the Sea—the same tradition known in Egypt—thus inducing him to speak of Astarte rather than Anat. Unfortunately, the fragmentary state of the tablet prevents us from knowing how Astarte assisted Baal in the Ugaritic version. Her role possibly being very limited here, the very fact of the alteration may suggest that this tablet preserves the early tradition. Finally, we must take note of El’s response to the Sea’s messengers: I 36 ʿbdk . Bʿl . y Ymm . ʿbdk . Bʿl 37 [Nhr]m . bn . Dgn . ʾasrkm . hw . ybl . ʾargmnk . k ʾilm 38 [. . .]ybl . w<k> bn . qdš . mnḥyk . . . “Your slave (is) Baal, O Sea, your slave (is) Baal, [O River], the son of Dagan (is) your prisoner. He will bring tribute to you; like the gods (he) will bring [a gift to you], and <like> the holy ones—offering to you . . .” While this answer has a diplomatic parallel at Ugarit, its affinities with the Egyptian and Hurro-Hittite versions concerning the conveyance of tribute to 73 74 Cf. for example, S.C. Layton, “ ‘Head on Lap’ in Sumero-Akkadian Literature,” JANES 15 (1983): 59–62; Smith, The Ugaritic Baal Cycle: 298; 314–15). As Anat and Astarte are both being goddesses of beauty and war and Baal’s ally, it is reasonable to assume that in the cultures wherein they served as major deities one would necessarily be superior to the other. The epigraphical evidence indicates that while in the last golden era of Ugarit—i.e., the period when the literary tablets were written— Anat took prominence over Astarte, Astarte ranked above Anat in Phoenicia and Israel in the first half of the first millennium BCE. In light of her prominence over Anat in Egypt, Redford contends that Astarte was also senior in Phoenicia and Canaan in the second half of the second millennium BCE.: see D.B. Redford, “New Light on the Asiatic Campaigning of Ḥoremheb,” BASOR 211 (1973): 36–49. The two goddesses subsequently appear to have merged into the great Syrian goddess Atragatis (ʿtrʿt). Journal of ancient near eastern religions 15 (2015) 20–51 46 ayali-darshan the Sea may not be coincidental—the latter even employs the same term for tribute (argmn).75 This analysis suggests that the tradition reflected in the Hurro-Hittite and Egyptian texts also lies behind the depiction in KTU 1.2 of Baal’s conflict with the Sea—which, like the remainder of the Baal Cycle, was subsequently adapted to form a distinctive court narrative.76 This tradition thus appears to have constituted the most prevalent account of the story of the Storm-god’s combat with the Sea during the second millennium BCE. Even those that diverge quite substantially from it preserve traces of the early contents. Unlike the other texts adduced above, the Ugaritic account is fully preserved. To the extent that it exhibits parallels with other texts of the same type, it may prove useful in elucidating the end of the ancient version. Thus, for example, the description of the erection of Baal’s palace on Mount Ṣaphon following his victory over the Sea corresponds to the Hurro-Hittite document CTH 785, which enjoins the story of the Storm-god’s victory over the Sea be recited during the celebrations of Mount Ḫazzi (=Ṣaphon). Because the link between this mountain and the story are not likely to have been based on the fact that it formed the “peak” from which the Storm-god and his brothers observed the young Ullikummi in the Sea,77 it is far more probable that—like the version reflected in Enūma eliš and the Hebrew Bible—Version A also described the construction of the Storm-god’s palace following his victory over the Sea, on Mount Ṣaphon/Ḫazzi.78 75 76 77 78 For the Ugarit parallel (KTU 3.1:24–26), see Smith, The Ugaritic Baal Cycle, 308 and the bibliography cited therein. For a discussion of the use of the term argmn, its origin, and a conjectured etymology, see I. Singer, “Purple-Dyers in Lapza,” in Anatolian Interfaces: Hittites, Greeks and their Neighbours (ed. B.J. Collins et al.; Oxford: Oxbow, 2008), 21–43. Blam (“Le Chant de l’Océan,” 74) contends that the employment of the same term to denote the tribute in the Ugaritic and the Hurro-Hittite texts discussed herein is not coincidental. For additional details and an extensive discussion of this issue, see Ayali-Darshan, “The Dispersion of the Story of the Combat between the Storm-god and the Sea.” It must be similarly assumed that the motif of “Mount Ḫazzi” was inserted into the Song of Ullikummi due to its centrality in the story of the Storm-god’s combat with the Sea. Mount Ḫazzi not being a possible site for the location of Teššub’s temple—a local Hurrian tradition ascribing to him the temples of the Kuntara—a minor tradition from the Levant relating to its location as an observation point was introduced. For the Semitic aetiological origin of this tradition, see above. The tradition regarding the building of the Storm-god’s palace on Mount Ṣaphon is made explicit in the Baal Cycle and corresponds to a tradition prevalent in the ancient Near East concerning the site of the Storm-god’s seat: see O. Eissfeldt, Baal Zaphon, Zeus Kasios und der Durchzug der Israeliten durchs Meer (Halle: Niemeyer, 1932); W.F. Albright, Journal of ancient near eastern religions 15 (2015) 20–51 the other version of the story of the storm god ’ s combat 47 Baal’s enthronement following his victory over the Sea in the Baal Cycle likewise fits well with the supreme status of Haddu of Aleppo and the Hurrian Teššub. We may thus conjecture that, as with the version reflected in Enūma eliš and the Hebrew Bible, Version A recounted the story of the crowning of the Storm-god at the end of the conflict. However, the fragmentary state of the final sections of the literal texts from the Egyptian- and the Hurro-Hittite cultures prevents any conclusive determination in this respect. E Versions A and B The Egyptian, Hurro-Hittite, and Ugaritic texts that relate to the story of the Storm-god’s combat with the Sea were written down during the second half of the second millennium BCE. The striking divergence between these accounts and that of Enūma eliš—the earliest manuscripts of which date to the tenth century BCE79—and the biblical texts attests to the existence of two different versions. While both share the element of the Storm-god’s combat with Sea and, it would appear, his enthronement over the gods and the building of a palace in his honor, however, they lack the delivery of tribute to the Sea and the (erotic) assistance given by a goddess to the protagonist—all of which motifs 79 “Baal-Zephon,” in Festschrift Alfred Bertholet zum 80. Geburgstag (ed. W. Baumgartner et al.; Tübingen: J.C.B. Mohr, 1950), 1–14. Another important recently-discovered source with respect to the Storm-god’s association with Mount Ṣaphon/Ḫazzi is the divinatory texts from Tigunānum, see now; A.R. Gerorge, Babylonian Divinatory Texts: Chiefly in the Schøyen Collection (CUSAS 18; Bethesda: CDL Press, 2013), 297 316. For the texts in Job 26 and Psalm 89 linking the creation of Ṣaphon with the struggle against the Sea and their relation to the tradition of the consecration of a piece of land in Babylon following Marduk’s victory over the Sea, see N. Ayali-Darshan, “The Question of the Order of Job 26:7–13 and the Cosmogonic Tradition of Zaphon,” ZAW 126 (2014), 402–417. The earliest Enūma eliš manuscripts were copied during the Middle Assyrian period: see T. Oshima, “The Babylonian God Marduk,” in The Babylonian World (ed. G. Leick; New York: Routledge, 2009), 351; E. Frahm, “Counter-texts, Commentaries, and Adaptations: Politically Motivated Responses to the Babylonian Epic of Creation in Mesopotamia, the Biblical World, and Elsewhere,” Orient 45 (2010), 5; and recently Kämmerer and Metzler, Das babylonische Weltschöpfungsepos Enūma elîš, 23–36. For the dating of the composition of Enūma eliš to the reign of Nebuchadnezzar I—i.e., the end of the second millennium—see W.G. Lambert, “The Reign of Nebuchadnezzar I: A Turning Point in the History of Ancient Mesopotamian Religion,” in The Seed of Wisdom: Essays in Honour of T.J. Meek (ed. W.S. McCullogh; Toronto: Oriental Club of Toronto, 1964), 3–13; cf. W. Horowitz, “The Astrolabes: Astronomy, Theology and Chronology,” in Calendars and Years: Astronomy and Time in the Ancient Near East (ed. J.M. Steele; Oxford: Oxbow, 2007), 101–13. Journal of ancient near eastern religions 15 (2015) 20–51 48 ayali-darshan occur or are alluded to the Egyptian, Anatolian, and Ugaritic versions. At the same time, they both include a motif not found in those versions—namely, the act of creation. Scholars have expended great efforts in an attempt to find traces of the creation motif in the Baal Cycle in the belief that this version forms an identical parallel to Enūma eliš and the biblical texts.80 Others ignore the creation motif in certain biblical texts (such as Job 26 and Psalms 74 and 89), convinced that they form parallels to the Ugaritic version.81 I am suggesting, however, that we are dealing with two separate versions: Version A, the earlier account, reflected in the second-millennium BCE Egyptian, Hurro-Hittite, and Ugaritic documents—and Version B, a later account, reflected in the Mesopotamian and biblical texts. Had we access to the biblical rendering of Version B alone, we might assume this to be an Israelite monotheistic reworking of the story of Version A that recoiled from referring to other gods and sought to concentrate all the roles played by these into the hands of YHWH—including the act of creation. The Babylonian Enūma eliš, however, also lacks details regarding the Grain-god’s suggestion that a tribute be offered to the Sea and the goddess’s enticement, attributing the creation at the end of the conflict to Marduk, who is solely victorious over the Sea. Having identified an earlier version of the story of the Storm-god’s combat with the Sea, we must therefore now investigate the place and circumstances under which the henotheistic version—as embodied in the Babylonian and Israelite accounts—developed. This issue not constituting the primary focus of the present article, I merely point out that the Babylonian version abounds with traces of elements foreign 80 81 Cf. L. Fisher, “Creation at Ugarit and in the Old Testament,” VT 15 (1965): 313–24; F.M. Cross, Canaanite Myth and Hebrew Epic (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1973), 118–20; T.L. Fenton, “The Attitudes of the Biblical Authors to the Myth of Theomacy,” in Studies in Bible and the Ancient Near East Presented to Samuel E. Loewenstamm on His Seventieth Birthday (ed. S. Loewenstamm, Y. Avishur, and J. Blau; Jerusalem: Magnes, 1978), 346–47 (Hebrew). Understandably, the definition of cosmogony adopted by these authors is rather vague. According to Day (God’s Conflict with the Dragon and the Sea, 7–18, 179–80), while the motif of the creation of the world by Baal was prevalent in Ugarit and Canaan it is not found explicitly in the Baal Cycle, only being hinted at in the depictions of the destruction of the sea creatures by Baal and Anat. Here, Day follows Cross, who identifies these as cosmogonical descriptions. Cf. Cassuto, Biblical and Oriental Studies, 80–102; A. Heidel, The Babylonian Genesis: The Story of Creation (2d ed.; Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1951), 112–14; D.J. McCarthy, “ ‘Creation’ Motifs in Ancient Hebrew Poetry,” CBQ 29 (1967): 393–406; H.W.F. Saggs, The Encounter with the Divine in Mesopotamia and Israel (London: Athlone, 1978), 54–56; C. Kloos, YHWH’s Combat with the Sea (Leiden: Brill, 1986), 70–86. Journal of ancient near eastern religions 15 (2015) 20–51 the other version of the story of the storm god ’ s combat 49 to the local culture—such as the Storm-god’s stature and dominance over the other gods and the Sea’s demonic character—thereby indicating that its kernel reached Babylon from elsewhere.82 At the same time, however, the Israelite version reflects the Levantine geographical and cultural features, evincing no evidence—with the exception of some modern emendations—of Babylonian influence. In other words, there is no reason to assume that this version originated in Babylon and thence became known to the Israelites. On the contrary, its provenance also appears to be Levantine.83 This determination has farreaching ramifications with regard to the question of the emergence of monotheism in Israel and Marduk’s ascendancy in Babylon—a subject that falls beyond the scope of the present contribution. Conclusion In this article I have sought to identify the earliest version of the story of the Storm-god’s combat with the Sea—a version originating somewhere in the Levant and exerting an influence, so it would appear, upon second-millennium BCE Egyptian, Anatolian, and Ugaritic sources. Since one of the two central protagonists is the Sea, it is evident that the provenance of the original kernel of the myth could not have been in any land-bound country, such as 82 83 This is not to deny, of course, the numerous local elements evinced in Enūma eliš that are well known to us from early Mesopotamian sources—such as the Anzu Myth and additional traditions relating to Ninurta, Atrahasis and other creation traditions, Enūma Anu Enlil and other astronomical traditions, as well as traditions relating to Enlil, Eridu, Enki, and Nippur: see W.G. Lambert, “Ninurta Mythology in the Babylonian Epic of Creation,” in Keilschriftliche Literaturen (RAI 32; ed. K. Hecker and W. Sommerfeld; Berlin: Reimer, 1986), 55–60; idem, “Mesopotamian Creation Stories,” in Imagining Creation (ed. M.J. Geller and M. Schipper; Leiden: Brill, 2008), 15–59; P. Machinist, “Order and Disorder: Some Mesopotamian Reflection,” in Genesis and Regeneration: Essays on Conceptions of Origins (ed. S. Shaked; Jerusalem: Israel Academy of Sciences and Humanities, 2005), 31–61; A. Seri, “The Fifty Names of Marduk in Enūma eliš,” JAOS 126 (2006): 507–19; idem, “The Role of Creation in Enūma eliš,” JANER 12 (2012): 4–29. At the same time, the existence of foreign motifs related to the protagonists and plot in Enūma eliš cannot be ignored: see especially T. Jacobsen, “The Battle between Marduk and Tiamat,” JAOS 88 (1968): 104–8. For the discrepancies in Enūma eliš deriving from the tension between local and non-Mesopotamian traditions and the Babylonian author’s attempt to resolve this, see Ayali-Darshan, “The Dispersion of the Story of the Combat between the Storm-god and the Sea.” For an in depth discussion, see Ayali-Darshan, “The Dispersion of the Story of the Combat between the Storm-god and the Sea.” Journal of ancient near eastern religions 15 (2015) 20–51 50 ayali-darshan Inner-Syria or Mesopotamia.84 The fact that the Egyptian and Anatolian accounts contain features incommensurate with the local culture and location indicates that, despite their proximity to the Mediterranean, neither gave birth to the story. Rather, it originated on the Levantine coast, close to Mount Ṣaphon where Astarte and Ym (the Sea) were worshipped. At the same time, however, the dissemination of the story in the second millennium BCE. appears to have occurred as part of the activity in the temple of Haddu in Aleppo. This temple—and the kingdom of Yamḫad under whose control it lay—held political sway at the beginning of the second millennium BCE. It may therefore be surmised that once the story of the Storm-god’s combat with the Sea became known in the region and was attributed to Haddu of Aleppo, it spread rapidly throughout Yamḫad’s satellite states and allies. Explicit evidence found in a letter from Aleppo that attests to the way in which the story travelled from place to place—namely, via the delivery of Haddu’s weapons—provides support for this theory. The oldest extant version comes from Egypt of the second half of the fifteenth century BCE., and later on from the Hurro-Hittite texts found at Hattuša. This contains the unique motifs of the Sea’s demand for tribute, the organization of this offering by the Grain-god/dess and its delivery to the Sea by the goddess closest to the Storm-god (his sister or wife), and her enticement of the Sea. Despite its substantial divergence, the Ugaritic edition of the story—found principally in KTU 1.2 of the Baal Cycle—also demonstrates affinities with the early account. In light of the Ugaritic and the Hurro-Hittite tablets, we may surmise that this early version also stated that, following the Storm-god’s triumph over the Sea, the former was enthroned and a palace was built for him on Mount Ṣaphon/Ḫazzi. The incorporation of motifs from the story of the Storm-god’s combat with the Sea into Hurro-Hittite material, as witnessed by the Song of Ullikummi and the Song of Ḫedammu, and the declamation of this story during Hurro-Hittite ritual festivities—as well as its dedication to the Egyptian king Amenhotep II and its formulation in the Low dialect (“Rammeside”) prevalent in later Egyptian literature—all attest to the popularity this version enjoyed among the people of the ancient Near East during the second millennium BCE. It may be assumed in this regard that more findings belong to this widespread and popular account may well emerge, thereby providing further information concerning the Storm god’s combat with the Sea. 84 Cf. Honko’s (“Four Forms of Adaptation of Tradition,” 21) cautious statement—which relates to the study of folklore in general rather than directly to the present study: “Water spirits are not found everywhere where there is water, but can only occur in places where water is used more or less regularly.” Altering “water” to “sea” here makes the present proposal clear. Journal of ancient near eastern religions 15 (2015) 20–51 the other version of the story of the storm god ’ s combat 51 Appendix The following diagram outlines the way in which the story developed into two variant textual traditions: Ur-tradition (1) The Sea seeks to rule over the gods and his waves rise up; (2) The Storm-god contends with the Sea and is victorious; (3) The Storm-god is enthroned; (4) His palace is erected. Version A (prior to fifteenth century bce) (1) The Sea seeks to rule over the gods and his waves rise up; (a) A tribute is imposed on the gods by the Sea; (b) The Grain-god/dess attempts to appease the Sea by paying tribute; (c) the goddess is sent to seduce the Sea; (2) The Storm-god contends with the Sea and is victorious; (3) The Storm-god is enthroned; (4) His palace is erected. (Version reflected in Egypt, the Hurro-Hittite texts and Ugarit) Version B (prior to tenth century bce) (1) The Sea seeks to rule over the gods and his waves rise up; (2) The Storm-god contends with the Sea and is victorious; (I) The Storm-god creates the world over the subdued Sea (3) The Storm-god is enthroned; (4) His palace is erected. (Version reflected in Babylon and Israel) Journal of ancient near eastern religions 15 (2015) 20–51