10

ISHTAR

Venus, Queen of Heaven

Of all the ancient Mesopotamian deities, probably the most widely known is the goddess Ishtar. She is frequently invoked in the same breath as Isis, Demeter, Persephone, and other mother goddesses. Yet, unlike the later Greek and Roman goddesses, her ancestry is complex and her cult even more so. In fact, when dealing with the ancient texts themselves, rather than commentaries upon them, quite a different view of Ishtar emerges, a perception at some variance to that normally presented by those who obviously prefer their gods and goddesses to inhabit a well-ordered pantheon and to exhibit well-defined and consistent characters. Unfortunately, with the Mesopotamian deities, such is not the case.

Ishtar manifested both male and female attributes. A tablet dating from the time of Ashurbanipal states that Ishtar of the evening star was female, while Ishtar of the morning star was male.1 Considerable variation existed on a local level as well. While Ishtar’s official cult center was Uruk, an ancient city dating from Sumerian times, her following was very widespread, with a statue to her standing in almost every city. There were, however, certain differences between them: each statue of Ishtar—that in Nineveh, for example, or perhaps that in Uruk—was held to be different, distinct, and endowed with certain unique qualities.

All through the Middle East there have been many exemplars of female goddesses, and Ishtar seems to have gradually subsumed them all, absorbing their features into herself. For this reason her position in the pantheon and her importance varies greatly from era to era. As a result it is impossible to create a portrait of Ishtar in the same way as one might a Greek goddess.

Part of Ishtar’s complexity is derived from her origins: she was a mixture of both Sumerian and Semitic deities. The original Sumerian astral deity linked to the planet Venus was known as Inanna—from whom, parenthetically, we derive our modern name Jenny, possibly one of the oldest surviving personal names. When the Semitic tribes gradually moved into Mesopotamia, they brought with them a deity associated with Venus, but in their case it was a male deity called Attar. After the Semitic immigrants had become dominant in the region, their Venus god became replaced by the native Sumerian goddess.

The complexity and importance assumed by Ishtar is exemplified by the wide variety of derivative forms of her name that can be found throughout the Middle East. The Semitic god from southern Arabia, Attar, gave rise to the masculine Ashtar, then, under the influence of the Sumerian culture, the feminine Ishtar emerged. The southern Arabian god Attar also had a feminine aspect, called Attart, later becoming Astart or Asteret. The Canaanite goddess Ashtoreth is a corruption of the latter form, the Greek rendering being Astarte.*23 From Astarte came the Greek Aphrodite. By Assyrian times, insofar as we can tell from the records, the change of sex from Attar to Ishtar was final, although certain vestigial male forms lingered on.

Ishtar was the third deity in the astral triad. She was considered, by Ashurbanipal’s reign, to be the daughter (and firstborn) of Sin, the moon; twin sister to Shamash, the sun; and sister too of both Erishkigal, the much feared queen of the underworld, and Tammuz, the dying and resurrecting god who was later to assume such prominence. Ishtar was the queen of heaven, the beautiful goddess of love, sexuality, and childbirth. Conversely, she was also the terrible goddess of war; it was to her that Solomon sang,

Who is this arising like the dawn

fair as the Moon,

resplendent as the Sun,

terrible as an army with banners?2

It was for worshipping the goddess that Solomon was condemned in the Old Testament.

There were many ways of symbolizing Ishtar, but the most common symbol in Assyria was the eight-pointed star and thus, perhaps, for her the number eight was sacred. There is a curiosity, however: her name, in cuneiform, is also the symbol for the number thirty. In some esoteric manner, known only to the ancient priests, this number and Ishtar were connected. Unfortunately, no vestige of any ancient gematria has been found that could illuminate this point or indicate the numbers associated with other deities.

It is certainly possible that the later medieval eight-sided churches, such as the Knights Templar built, dedicated to the European mother goddess, Mary, are a continuation, through Middle Eastern contacts, of this Ishtar symbolism. Certainly the Knights Templar were famous for their prowess as warriors, and it would not be out of character for their cult to have viewed Mary as a species of war goddess.

The Templars’ patroness was Mary in the form of the Black Virgin. It was under her auspices that their spiritual mentor, Saint Bernard, had received his primary spiritual vision. It is most likely that the medieval Black Virgin was an ancient Middle Eastern goddess who had been given a Christian overlay. Many of the early Christian sites of the Virgin cult had grown up about an ancient black statue of a goddess with whom legend often associated a tale of a miraculous discovery.*24

The Mesopotamian Ishtar temple complex had both living accommodation and its own farmland in order to support a feminine hierarchy that was distinguished by both office and social class. At the top was the high priestess, who was often a daughter of the king. It was she who took the role of wife to the god in the annual sacred marriage, which was consummated in order that the lands might remain fertile. Serving below her were at least two grades of priestesses.

A further group of women attached to the temple were the so-called temple prostitutes, of which there were two types, reflected in Ishtar’s titles of qadishtu or harimtu—both meaning “whore.” The former were the temple “sacred prostitutes,” while the latter were “business girls” operating from commercial brothels.3 It was by the former title that Ishtar was worshipped as patroness of the many temple prostitutes. As their goddess she also held the names Queen of the Windows and She Who Loiters About, which gives some indication that the lifestyle of prostitutes has not changed over the succeeding millennia.

Sacred prostitution formed an important part of the cult of Ishtar. It is of interest that the qadishtu also played a part as wet nurses, perhaps because they were often exposed to pregnancy. In addition, prostitution of the commercial rather than the sacred variety was also linked to the temple; it formed part of the organization’s business activities. The temple administration would commonly grant the franchise of some prime site over which the temple had rights—a stretch of busy canal, for example—and in return would gain a proportion of the girl’s earnings.

“The Babylonians have one custom in the highest degree abominable,” wrote the Greek historian Herodotus in the fifth century BCE.

Every woman who is a native of the country is obliged once in her life to attend at the temple of Venus, and prostitute herself to a stranger. Such women as are of superior rank . . . go to the temple in splendid chariots, accompanied by a numerous train of domestics, and place themselves near the entrance. This is the practice with many; whilst the greater part, crowned with garlands, seat themselves in the vestibule; and there are always numbers coming and going. The seats have all of them a rope or string annexed to them, by which the stranger may determine his choice. A woman having once taken this situation, is not allowed to return home, till some stranger throws her a piece of money; and leading her to a distance from the temple, enjoys her person. It is usual for the man, when he gives the money, to say, “May the goddess Mylitta be auspicious to thee!” Mylitta being the Assyrian name for Venus. The money given is applied to sacred uses, and must not be refused, however small it may be. The woman, not suffered to make any distinction, is obliged to accompany whoever offers her money. She afterwards makes some conciliatory oblation to the goddess, and returns to her house, never afterwards to be obtained on similar, or any such terms. Such as are eminent for their elegance and beauty do not continue long, but those who are of less engaging appearance have sometimes been known to remain from three to four years, unable to accomplish the terms of the law.4

Herodotus had visited Babylon and was certainly an eyewitness to the events he described, albeit a questionable reporter. Archaeologists have not found sufficient evidence to support all his assertions, particularly his statement that it was a general rule whereby all women were required to have a sexual experience in the temple at the hands of a stranger. It is now generally considered that he had misunderstood the situation and was describing rather the lifestyle of the qadishtu women. However, the truth may, as often, lie somewhere in between. From a small archive discovered at Sippar, a tablet was noted in 1973 that for the first time presented some unambiguous evidence for the granting of sexual favors by Babylonian women as part of the service that they owed Ishtar.5 These particular married women, attached to the army, were “attending to the needs of military personnel.”6

That no stigma was attached to any man who visited the temple women is evidenced by a marriage contract that has survived. It specifies first that the man being wed should remain faithful to his wife by not taking another woman. However, it then allows that he might go to the city for the purpose of having sex with a qadishtu.7 Given the rudimentary medical knowledge of the times and the indisputable evidence for the existence of venereal disease, it might be supposed that this latter would be exacerbated by the sexual aspects of the temple cult. No specific details are forthcoming about this potential problem except that an Assyrian medical text, when speaking of the symptoms of venereal disease, insists that its occurrence showed “the hand of Ishtar,”8 which, if we can read this in a narrow sense, might indicate that the disease resulted from a visit to a temple woman.

It was written that Ishtar was responsible for the woe that love and passion brought to men, distracting their minds from such socially encouraged tasks as serving in armies and acquiring money. A man finding himself caught in the passion of love, and seeing his wealth disappearing through pleasure seeking, could approach the priests or priestesses of Ishtar and request that they perform a magical ritual designed to free him from Ishtar’s pernicious embrace and thus allow his inflamed desires to subside. Whether the same opportunity was open for women is something about which the texts remain silent.

Among the surviving reports from the astrologers to the Assyrian kings only some twenty are found that mention Venus and, of these, many exist only in fragments. In consequence, we lack all but the barest details regarding the character of omens drawn from Venus, apart, that is, from the simplistic material within the Venus Tablet. Fortunately, one tablet is sufficiently well preserved to provide a number of detailed omens:

If the goat-star [Venus] approaches Cancer, there will be peace and reconciliation in the country, and the gods will have mercy on the country. Empty storage bins will become full, the crops of the country will recover, the pregnant women will perfect their embryos, and the great gods will keep the sanctuaries of the country in order.9

These attributes are repeated in the other remaining fragments, and assuming them to be at least partially representative, we can conclude that a major omen drawn from Venus contacts pertained to fecundity: the successful pregnancies of women and the growth and harvesting of crops. Such an explanation is in character; Ishtar’s domain included procreation as well as agricultural fertility.

Apart from this one text, the information provided by the remainder is minimal and hardly allows any conclusions to be drawn about the ancient view of Venus’s role in astrological omina. All we have are statements that Venus becoming visible in the fifth month or in the eleventh month—probably the modern Leo or Aquarius—foreshadows prosperity of the crops, as does Venus moving within the constellation Virgo. The reverse, a disastrous harvest, is the prediction drawn from Venus failing to become visible in the eighth month, perhaps to be identified with the modern Scorpio. Even worse is predicted on the occasion that Scorpio receives an explicit mention: it is specified that should Venus enter this constellation, then all the crops will be destroyed by winds and floods. Thus, we can loosely summarize the position: if Venus is not in Scorpio when it is supposed to be, then the harvest is disastrous; if Venus is in Scorpio, then the harvest is destroyed. The position is nothing if not comprehensive.

Ishtar’s military aspect also finds expression in the astrological tab-lets, though, to be fair, warfare is the subject of a large number of omens drawn from a variety of planetary sources. Should Venus enter the constellation Libra, for example, then a war is predicted—one that will go badly for the empire. It is not insignificant that modern astrologers seem to have inherited at least one element of the theory that lay behind the formulation of this omen: warfare traditionally is still placed under the rulership of Libra. There are other indications of impending war: if Venus should disappear in the first or fifth months or, conversely, appear in the fifth month, then conflagration was considered imminent. The war that was expected to follow upon the disappearance of Venus in the first month would, the texts state drily, prove disastrous for the king, whereas in the wars that were associated with the latter two events, he was expected to win.

Of course, as we have seen above, if Venus appeared in the fifth month, not only was a successful war imminent but simultaneously, in a species of astrological non sequitur, the crops would be successful. By which criteria the astrologers decided upon one of these disparate predictions for their reports to the king remains a mystery. We have no record of them admitting defeat and sending both.

The harmonizing effect of Venus, an important part of the attributes allocated to the planet by modern astrologers, is clearly expressed when, for example, the planet is seen in conjunction with an eclipse. One text, reporting an impending lunar eclipse, adds that Venus, Jupiter, and Saturn would all be present within it. Rather than being recommended to perform a Namburbi ritual, the king is informed that he need not fear this eclipse.10 A second text describing another lunar eclipse in conjunction with both Venus and Jupiter expresses omens that are favorable to the king.11 It would thus seem likely that Venus and Jupiter, with or without Saturn, are here seen as very powerful protectors of the king and kingdom, able to remove or render inoperative the evil normally associated with an eclipse.

It would be interesting if we should find textual support for the presence of one or both these planets in a solar eclipse, thus obviating the need to install a substitute king on the throne. A statement one way or the other on this point would allow a direct judgment to be drawn about the relative strength of planetary omens with respect to terrestrial ritual.

At the moment, the existence of Namburbi and substitute king rites indicates the primacy of terrestrial influence: the will of the operator can alter or avoid the fate portended by omens from above. But how certain of success were the ancient priests? Exactly how malleable did they think the universe was? A statement about the relative merits of either ritual or the presence of Venus or Jupiter to remove the danger of an eclipse would begin to resolve this question. It is certainly possible that in the future a text might be found or identified that deals with this point, and we shall learn a little more about the ancient concept of fate as a result.

The remaining omens from Venus are inconclusive: one tablet only mentions omens derived simply from a station of Venus—an event that precedes both a period of retrograde motion and the return to direct progress about forty days later. No further distinction is mentioned, yet as this event is rather common—occurring every eighteen months—one would expect somewhere to find some further differentiation of Venus stations perhaps drawn from the different months in which they took place or the different planets or constellations in whose proximity they were observed. Certainly the general framework of the omens in the Enuma Anu Enlil series is of such a structure that would suggest a methodical organization of omens in this manner. However, nothing of this sort has been found.

All that survives on this single Babylonian tablet that we have is the bare comment that a station of Venus indicated that the prince—presumably the crown prince—would live a long time and there would be justice in the land.12

The royal dynasty gets a further undifferentiated mention in tablet fifty-one of the Enuma Anu Enlil: if Venus should rise early in “its month,” then the king would have a long life, whereas if Venus should rise late in “its month,” the king would soon die. This suggests the dangers attending upon any errors made in establishing the working parameters of the national calendar, for if the astrologers had, for some reason, chosen the months wrongly—perhaps having failed to intercalate a month—then this event, of dire consequence to the king and by extension to his astrologers, would take place. How the king would view a prediction of his death derived from an astrologer’s error in calculating the calendar can only be guessed at, but it is fair to imagine that if the astrologer merely lost his position and had to make bricks for a living like the unfortunate Tabia, he could be considered fortunate.

The last omens to be mentioned are those derived from the conjunction of Venus with Mars: “if, when Venus rises, Mars is seen near it, then the king’s son will enter the palace and take the throne.” Thus, according to this statement, the event was seen as a direct threat against the king by one or other of his sons. This prediction can also be understood as the king dying and being succeeded by his son. It would therefore seem, as we shall see, that this omen probably derives more from the presence of Mars than of Venus. This conjunction, though, is certainly seen as negative in another text: it predicts that the crops would be ruined either by a flood or by an enemy trampling through them.13

It is clear that a number of the ancient omens associated with Venus have survived to appear again in the astrological tradition inherited by modern astrologers. Of course, the prime role of Venus—the rule over women and all things feminine—still remains closely identified with the planet. This we should not be surprised about, as the Greek and Roman writers, who are our sources, stressed this aspect. However, it is the survival of the less obvious aspects that is interesting.

The ancient concern of Venus with the success of the harvest finds an echo in the modern attribution of commodities and the commercial resources of the nation under the rule of Venus. The martial quality of Venus in the past, the rulership of armies and invasions, has also survived: war, treaties, and allies are today still part of the role of Venus. Finally, the concern of Venus with justice throughout the land finds its corollary in the modern acceptance of Venus’s rule over the law courts.*25

These correspondences are very close, proving that with Venus, the astrological values have successfully passed across several thousand years from ancient Babylon to the present—albeit in a slightly modified form.