New American
June 11 2010
Mithraic Mysteries and the Cult of Empire
Written by Charles Scaliger
Friday, 11 June 2010 09:35
The proud Roman general stood with his commanders and retinue as the
wild hillsmen, dressed in the ragged but still-flamboyant clothes of
corsairs, fell before him in turn, begging for clemency. It was about
75 B.C. in the rugged hills near Coracesium in Cilicia, an untamed
region along the coast of southwestern Asia Minor, and the Cilician
pirates, possibly the most successful race of brigands the world has
ever seen, were surrendering to the Roman general Pompey.
Pompeius Magnus, as he was afterwards styled, would go on to conquer
the Levant and to challenge Julius Caesar for supremacy over the
fledgling Roman Empire, but his lightning-swift campaign against the
Cilician pirates was perhaps his finest moment. The pirates, taking
advantage of Roman naval weakness during a span of decades that saw
Rome wracked by civil war, had controlled much of the Mediterranean,
as far west as the Balearic Islands.* Now, thanks to Pompey’s
masterful combination of resolute military action and unconditional
clemency for all pirates who surrendered to him in person, the
once-feared Cilicians were admitted to the Roman Empire and given the
opportunity to live respectable lives. Most, according to Plutarch’s
account of events, accepted Pompey’s offer. They were resettled in
various parts of the Roman dominion, bringing their families and
possessions with them. They also, according to Plutarch, brought with
them a peculiar system of religious beliefs and practices, one of the
so-called `mystery cults’ typical of the pre-Christian Mediterranean.
The cult of the Mithras was doubtless regarded at first as just
another Oriental import, a product of Mediterranean multi-culturalism.
But it grew into the most formidable occult secret society in the
ancient world, claiming emperors and legionaries alike in its
membership. At the peak of its power and influence ‘ when it held
hostage the very machinery of empire ‘ it threatened to fling the
Roman world back to its pagan roots and to eradicate the young
Christian faith.
No one knows the precise origins of the cult devoted to the Persian
deity Mithras, which came to be known as the Mithraic mysteries or
Mithraism. Plutarch says only that the Cilician pirates `offered
strange sacrifices upon Mount Olympus, and performed secret rites or
religious mysteries, among which those of Mithras have been performed
to our own time [i.e., the second century A.D., roughly two centuries
after Pompey’s time], having received their previous institution from
them.’ It is also possible that the mysteries of Mithras, like certain
other mystery cults in Roman dominions, were popularized by the
mysterious `Chaldeans,’ itinerant sorcerers from the East who were
periodically expelled from Roman territory for encouraging the
formation of subversive cultic secret societies.
>From Persian Antiquity
The name of Mithras is the Latinized equivalent of Mithra, an
important deity in Persian Zoroastrianism. This god was worshipped far
back into remotest antiquity by the ancestors of the Persians and
Indians alike (in the Vedic Hymns of ancient India, he is known as
Mitra, `the friend’). To the Persians, he was the god of oaths and
covenants, and was worshipped far and wide across central Asia and the
Middle East, from Armenia to the empire of Kushan in modern-day
Afghanistan.
The mystery cult, meanwhile, was a distinctively Mediterranean form of
religious worship, a cult within a cult, as it were, in which esoteric
beliefs withheld from the general populace were taught and secret
rites performed. Among the ancient Greeks, the mysteries of Eleusis or
Demeter proved most enduringly popular, while in Egypt, the mysteries
of Isis reigned supreme. On Asia Minor the mysteries of Cybele, a
goddess popular with the Phrygians, flourished.
One particular mystery cult ‘ that of Bacchus, the god of wine and
revelry ‘ acquired a sinister reputation in Rome in the second century
B.C. Introduced by a mysterious Greek immigrant, the cult of Bacchus
allegedly practiced human sacrifices and all manner of debauchery at
its secret nighttime orgies. And the cult sought not only to corrupt
Roman morals but also to take control of Roman government. `Never,’
said Spurius Postumius, the Roman consul who first exposed the cult of
Bacchus before the Roman Senate in 186 B.C., `has there been so much
wickedness in this commonwealth, never wickedness affecting so many
people, nor manifesting itself in so many ways…. Their [the Bacchan
votaries’] impious conspiracy still confines itself to private
outrages, because it has not yet strength enough to overthrow the
state. But the evil grows with every passing day…. It aims at the
supreme power of the state.’ Fortunately for Rome, the Senate heeded
Postumius’ warning and suppressed the cult of Bacchus. But the episode
showed the potency of cultic secret societies, and their potential, at
least in the ancient Mediterranean world, to unravel moral fabric and
even threaten the integrity of the state.
The mystery cult of Mithras appears to have been structurally a Roman
innovation, using certain features of Persian religion and mythology
for its own purposes. Unfortunately, we know little about its growth
or operations until more than a century after Pompey. Not until the
ascendancy of Nero does the name Mithra reappear in Rome.
One of the accomplishments of Rome’s evilest emperor was to bring the
Armenian king Tiridates to Rome for his coronation. As Tiridates
prostrated himself before the Roman emperor, he informed Nero that he
would worship him as he worshipped the great god Mithra (in a stroke
of historical irony, a later Armenian king of the same name, Tiridates
the Great, converted to Christianity and was responsible for Armenia’s
becoming the first state to embrace the new religion). Nero in his
turn is supposed to have expressed great interest in being inducted
into the mysteries of Zoroastrianism by the magi who accompanied
Tiridates to Rome. Whether the Armenian king was an adherent of the
mystery cult per se, or whether Nero became himself a devotee, is
impossible to prove. But the episode suggests that, at very minimum,
the worship of Mithra was a familiar concept in Rome by the mid-first
century A.D.
What the archaeological record bears out is that Mithraism was
becoming widespread in the Roman Empire by the end of the first
century of our era. The earliest Mithraic temples, or mithraea, of
which we have record date from roughly 90 to 110 A.D., in the German
provinces. The mysteries of Mithras must have been well-established by
that time in the Roman heartland, the Italian peninsula. By the middle
of the second century, the cult had spread throughout Roman territory,
from the Middle East to the British Isles, displaying a vitality that
only the young Christian faith could match.
Imperial Sponsors
The cult of Mithras seems to have begun in the Roman military,
eventually becoming a cult not only of Roman legionaries, but of
merchants and government officials as well. Nero was the first Roman
emperor whose name was associated with the god Mithras, but he was far
from the last.
The turning point for Mithraism, which apparently enjoyed at least a
measure of tolerance from the Roman government from its inception, was
the administration of the emperor Commodus, the bestial son of Marcus
Aurelius, who reigned from 180 to 190 A.D. Commodus is remembered
chiefly for his savagery and many perversions, exceptional even by the
standards of Roman emperors. Possessed of none of the equanimity and
wisdom of his father nor of the saintly virtues of his grandfather,
the aptly named Pius Antoninus, Commodus managed to undo in a few
short, blood-soaked years much of the progress logged by Roman
civilization during the previous several generations of comparative
peace and progress. He was also the first Roman emperor of record to
have been a full-blown initiate into the mysteries of Mithras.
Commodus, says Franz Cumont, a pioneer in modern Mithraic studies,
`was admitted among their adepts and participated in their secret
ceremonies, and the discovery of numerous votive inscriptions, either
for the welfare of this prince or bearing the date of his reign, gives
us some ink-ling of the impetus which this imperial conversion
imparted to the Mithraic propaganda. After the last of the Antonine
emperors had thus broken with the ancient prejudice, the protection of
his successors appears to have been definitely assured to the new
religion.’
While we have no details of how Commodus’ involvement in the secret
cult may have influenced his policymaking, his association with
Mithras set a disturbing precedent ‘ namely, that most emperors
associated with the cult displayed more than ordinary levels of
brutality and depravity, and a peculiar animus for Christianity.
Of the beliefs and rituals of Mithraism, we know very little, despite
the abundant archaeological evidence. Mithraism has left us no
religious texts comparable to, say, the epistles of Paul, the Talmud,
or the patristic writings. We do know that it was a secret religious
society to which only men were admitted. According to St. Jerome,
there were seven initiatory grades in Mithraism, beginning with Corax
(raven). The others, from lowest to highest, were Nymphus
(bridegroom), Miles (soldier), Leo (lion), Perses (Persian),
Heliodromus (sun-runner), and Pater (father). Of these the first two
appear to have been preparatory levels, and induction into the rank of
Miles was the real starting point for progression within the Mithraic
hierarchy.
Mithraism had a belief system characterized by vivid myths and
maddeningly obscure symbolism. A typical mithraeum, an underground
house of worship used by devotees of Mithras, was constructed to
resemble a world-cavern, a metaphor of the cosmos favored in the
ancient Middle East. The dominant feature of every mithraeum was a
depiction, usually carved in stone, of the central myth of Mithras:
the tauroctony or slaying of the bull of heaven. Mithras is depicted
as a youthful hero wearing a characteristic Phrygian cap, killing the
bull with a dagger. Surrounding and harassing the hapless bull are a
dog, scorpion, raven, and snake, while flanking the scene stand two
other youths holding torches (dadophori), Cautes and Cautopates, of
whom the latter holds his torch with the tip pointed earthward.
Devilish Details
The precise meaning of this remarkable tableau is still disputed;
nowhere in the Persian Zoroastrian canon as we have received it is
there any reference to Mithra slaying a bull. Cumont perceived in
Cautes and Cautopates, with their opposing torches, an allusion to the
radical dualism of the Zoroastrian faith, the notion that good and
evil must be regarded as opposite and completely equal forces.
In the vivid paintings on the walls of the well-preserved mithraeum at
Dura-Europos in Syria, there are also images of Mithras as an
equestrian hunter ‘ the famous `mighty hunter’ motif associated with
Mesopotamian monarchs and gods since time immemorial ‘ and of Mithras
forging his pact with the sun god Sol, whence Mithras’ most famous
epithet, `Sol Invictus,’ or `Unconquerable Sun.’
The other characteristic piece of Mithraic iconography, the so-called
leontocephalous or lion-headed deity entwined with serpents, is easier
to interpret. This terrifying figure, displayed in many surviving
mithraea, has been identified with the Greek Kronos and Egyptian Kore,
the god of time, but in several mithraea, this idol is captioned `Deus
Arimanius.’ Arimanius is the Latin form of Persian Ahriman, meaning
`evil spirit.’ Ahriman was the Satan of Zoroastrianism, and his
presence in Mithraic sancta speaks volumes about the real nature of
this mystery cult. Moreover, in the traditional Zoroastrian religion,
it is Ahriman ‘ not Mithra ‘ who, according to historian of religion
Yuri Stoyanov, `brings death to the `Lone-Created’ bull in the violent
act of the first `creative murder’ which sparked off the cycle of
being and generation.’ In Stoyanov’s view:
The Mithraic Deus Arimanius is thus taken to show that Roman Mithraism
derived from pre-Zoroastrian and later forbidden daevic [i.e.,
diabolical] forms of Mithra-worship which were associated with the
dreaded `mystery of the sorcerers’ and which were sustained in
Mesopotamia and Asia Minor.
Of the rites and observances of Mithraism we know comparatively
little. From images in a Mithraic grotto at modern-day Capua, we learn
that initiates were blindfolded and subjected to various severe trials
by a mystagogus in a white tunic. It appears, from the testimony of
Tertullian, that initiates underwent various purification ceremonies,
swore oaths of secrecy, and received brands on the hands or forehead
betokening their membership in the order. According to M. J.
Vermaseren, `on several [ancient] portraits, even on portraits of
emperors, these tattoo marks are clearly visible, but on the forehead,
in place of the hands.’
A much more abominable practice, human sacrifice, may have been
associated with Mithraism as well, though few modern researchers,
aside from the scrupulous Vermaseren, bother to acknowledge it. The
Christian historian Socrates, in the fourth or fifth century, alleged
that Greeks in Alexandria `killed men’ while celebrating the
mysteries, despite the fact that human sacrifice had been explicitly
forbidden in Roman dominions since at least the time of Tiberius. At a
mithraeum in Saarburg, the skeleton of a man between 30 and 40 years
old was discovered lying face downwards with his wrists manacled
behind his back with an iron chain ‘ very likely a Mithraic
sacrificial victim. Human sacrifices to Mithras have also been
ascribed ‘ although never proven ‘ to two Roman emperors and Mithras
devotees, Commodus and Julian.
Son of God vs. `Sun God’
It appears that, from the time of Commodus onward, nearly every Roman
emperor was associated with the cult of Mithras in some way. In the
early third century, a shrine to Mithras was built on the grounds of
the palace of the Augusti. Elagabalus, another exceptionally depraved
ruler in the tradition of Nero and Commodus, replaced Jupiter with the
Unconquerable Sun, Deus Sol Invictus, as the head of the Roman
pantheon, while Aurelian instituted an imperial cult dedicated to the
same god. Diocletian, Licinius, and Galerius dedicated a temple to
Mithras in Carnuntum in 307 A.D.; it was Galerius, moreover, who
instituted one of the greatest persecutions against the Christians,
because of his well-documented zeal for pagan tradition and worship.
Constantine the Great, too, was at least associated with the cult of
the Unconquerable Sun/Mithras, though whether he was an initiate into
the mysteries is unclear. Rome’s last pagan emperor, Julian, was
inducted into the mysteries of Mithras while yet in his teens by
Maximus of Ephesus, and in his efforts to suppress Christianity and to
restore paganism to full flower, compelled the citizens at
Constantinople ‘ by then the capital of the empire ‘ to worship
Mithras.
The early Christian church regarded the cult of Mithras as its mortal
enemy. The mythology and liturgy of Mithraism were held up as
deliberate mockeries of Christian doctrine and sacraments. The
youthful hero-god Mithras was believed to be a caricature of Jesus
Christ, while Mithraic initiatory rites were considered counterfeit
baptisms. It is possibly Mithraism that the author of the Book of
Revelation had in mind in associating the harlot of Babylon with
`mystery,’ and the Antichrist with the infamous `mark of the beast’
(which mark, analogous to the brands inflicted on Mithraic initiates,
was to be placed on the right hand or on the forehead). Whatever the
case, there is every likelihood that, had not Constantine and all of
his successors save Julian not chosen to adopt Christianity, the
Western world might very well have become Mithraic instead.
The demise of Mithraism was as shrouded in obscurity as its origins.
After the death of Julian during his unsuccessful campaign in Persia,
the recrudescent mysteries of Mithras were swiftly suppressed.
Julian’s Mithraic preceptor Maximus was put to death along with other
unrepentant votaries of Mithras, but whether the cult managed to
disappear underground or otherwise reinvent itself and persist in some
other guise is unknown. Some have suggested a continuity of tradition
between Mithraism and Manichaeism, the so-called `religion of light’
founded by the Persian heretic Mani and promulgated across much of the
Orient. Others have found in the underground heresies of Medieval
Europe, especially the Paulicians and the Bogomils, lineal successors
to Mithraism and the other mystery cults.
Whatever its final fate, the cult of Mithras is perhaps the
best-documented instance of a cult of empire, a secret, oath-bound
society of elites that, for several centuries, was the power behind
the throne of the mightiest realm the world had ever seen. It was
apparently the mysteries of Mithras that gave cohesion to Rome’s
far-flung legions and ideological grounding for the autocratic
behavior of her emperors. If the emperor was the embodiment of the
Unconquerable Sun, who could pretend to stand against him? From what
little we have been able to glean of the religion of Mithras and of
its most prominent imperial adherents, we are fortunate that this last
and greatest of the ancient mystery cults did not carry the day in its
epic struggle with Christianity for the hearts and minds of Rome.
* See `Fear & Fatal Power’ by Joe Wolverton II in the May 24, 2010 issue of TNA.
From: A. Papazian
http://www.thenewamerican.com/index.php/history/world/3740-mithraic-mysteries-and-the-cult-of-empire