The Destiny of the Warrior

by Georges Dumézil

English, French (translation)

Genres: History, Mythology, Philosophy, Nonfiction, Ancient History, Anthropology

184 pages, Hardcover

First published January 1, 1969

About the author

Georges Dumézil was a French comparative philologist best known for his analysis of sovereignty and power in Proto-Indo-European religion and society. He is considered one of the major contributors to mythography, in particular for his formulation of the trifunctional hypothesis of social class in ancient societies.

Reviews

[Peat]

This book presents Dumezil's thoughts on some of the beliefs likely held by the Indo-Europeans about its warriors, as found by comparing the various myths found in the Indo-European language groups with each other.

The first two sections are the strongest. The first focuses mainly on a comparison between Indra and the historicised legendary Kings of Rome Tullus Hostilius to show what was expected from the Indo-European warrior and their relationship to the gods of the functions of Sovereignty and Fertility. The second draws again on Indra, as well as Heracles and Starkad, to demonstrate how the warriors' sins led to their deaths. The third section, Promotions, by contrast feels like a hodge-podge of the left over thrown together with little thematic emphasis.

The strength of Dumezil's theories here, from the perspective of a non-academic, lie in nailing the ambiguous regard in which these great warrior figures were held. Their strength and cunning makes them both protectors and predators without peer. The episodes in which Indra and Tullus Hostilius legalese their way around agreements with treacherous allies is perhaps the best example of this, particularly as we also see rather divergent views on how reprehensible the act was.

All in all, a highly interesting book for anyone interested in myth and literary views on violence, if rather difficult to get hold of.

[CivilWar]

Absolutely eye-opening read, essential to anyone, casual mythology reader (for the writing of Dumézil is not just clear, it is beautiful at times) but specially the student who wishes to understand the myths relating to warriors in the general Indo-European ideology: it is hard to over-emphasize how this book, which, if I remember correctly, is where Dumézil first sets down his thesis of the "three trifunctional sins of the warrior", an absolutely essential tool to understanding the myths of Herakles, Starkadr and the general view that Indo-Europeans had of those people who dedicated themselves exclusively to war, outside of society in a sense, not unlike the modern soldier holed up in his barrack, bombarded with propaganda designed to make him forget what class he belongs to...

Dumézil first compares the myths of Indra's slaying of the Tricephalic enemy and the exploits of the entirely fictional Roman king Tullus Hostilius, showing that the latter is nothing but extremely ancient, well-preserved myths which have transposed from divine myth into heroic saga, in an effort to write the "birth of the nation" (much like the Indian Mahabharata and like me and a few other mythographers see, the Kojiki of Japan). He shows the total equivalence between extremely specific mythemes, and notes how Indra, as Tullus Hostilius, is a sinner, despite being a god.

This brings him into an explanation that Indra commits three sins, each in descending order of the Indo-European three functions: He kills a close cousin (sacred blood ties) and a brahman, the worst sin in Hinduism, then he substitutes a duel for cowardly tricks after swearing friendship with an enemy and finally he makes an honest woman cheat on her husband by taking the form of her partner (much like Zeus did with Alkmene, a myth I suspect may have common origins). Violation of blood ties, cowardly deception in place of a duel and sexual sin: these are three characteristic sins, which is to say, faults of character of the warrior, meaning that these sins, observed then in a number of mythological warriors, strictly "second function" figures, namely Herakles and Starkadr/Starcatherus, were seen as emblematic of the things which people outside of this bellicose function typical to Indo-European society saw as making warriors dubious figures.

It is hard to overemphasize how much this changes how most of us see heroic myth: we have a notion to think that the ancient were very barbarous for calling men like Herakles "heroes" but the thing is, a hero was nothing but a champion-warrior, and these things that seem abhorrent to us were no less abhorrent to the Indo-European people of the past, both those above the warrior castes/classes/what have you but specially for normal people, laborers. In short, these myth reflect the ambivalence that people felt about warriors: on the one hand, they are stronger than anyone, they have animal forms that can be used in battle, they have a full set of armor, they cannot be defeated etc, but on the other hand, it is exactly this strength which makes them odious in peacetime, for everything that makes him essential to defend the community is what makes him the potential sacker of it, the potential murderer, sinner.

Out of these conclusions Dumézil explains further, by analyzing the forms of animals that the warriors took, initiation rituals of warrior youths present in myth (a true Myth and Ritual moment, complete with Frazer citations in the footnotes), even warrior homosexuality among the Germanics which, Dumézil suspects, later Celtic and Germanic accounts only do not talk about due to Christian modesty towards such things. He ultimately arrives at a nuanced view of the warrior as an ambivalent figure within mythology and thus within general Indo-European society.

Perhaps the peak of the book writing-wise is the description of why it was that the warriors are seen as sinners, in their freedom and apartness from society:

Indra and his warriors have been given a very different cosmic and social position. They cannot ignore order, since their function is to guard it against the thousand and one demonic or hostile endeavors that oppose it. But in order to assure this office they must first possess and entertain qualities of their own which bear a strong resemblance to the blemishes of their adversaries. In battle itself they must respond to boldness, surprise, pretense, and treachery with operations of the same style, only more effective, or else face sure defeat. Drunk or exalted, they must put themselves into a state of nervous tension, of muscular and mental preparedness, multiplying and amplifying their powers. And so they are transfigured, made strangers in the society they protect. And above all, dedicated to Force, they are the triumphant victims of the internal logic of Force, which proves itself only by surpassing boundaries — even its own boundaries and those of its raison d'être. The warrior is the one who finds comfort only in being strong, not only in the face of this or that adversary, in this or that situation, but strong absolutely, the strongest of all — a dangerous superlative for a being who occupies the second rank. The revolts of generals and the military coups d'etat, the massacres and pillages by the undisciplined soldiery and by its leaders, all these are older than history. And that is why Indra, as Sten Rodhe puts it so well, is "the sinner among the gods."

I find the comparison with modern "warriors" specially chilling. Followed immediately after by an equally beautiful and insightful passage on why it is that, despite being violently dangerous, rapist killers, the warrior were and are nonetheless considered heroic:

There is still, however, the point, a significant one, at which the fatalities of the warrior again take on a positive aspect: when by itself the ṛta is inflexible, inhuman, or when its strict application turns into the summum ius of the occidental maxim, to take opposition to it, to reform it, or to violate it, while surely a sin from the perspective of Varuṇa, is in the language of men a movement of progress. In a chapter of my Mitra-Varuṇa (6, "Nexum et mutuum") in which certain Roman juridical facts (§3) are treated somewhat too freely, but in which the rest, and the general direction, are valid, a study was made of this beneficent opposition of Indra to Varuṇa (§4), of the hero's ethic to that of the sovereign (§5), especially in the Indian traditions which attribute to Indra the service of saving human victims in extremis, or even of substituting the ritual in which only a horse perished for the old Varuṇian royal consecration ritual tainted by the practice or the memory of human sacrifices. “It will occasion no astonishment,” I wrote thirty years ago, “that the god of men's societies, often frightful in so many respects, should appear in Indian fable, in opposition to the magical binder, as a merciful god, the god who delivers the regular victims, the human victims, of Varuṇa. The warrior and the sorcerer, or, on another level, the soldier and the policeman, work equally, when occasion demands, for the liberty and the life of their fellows; but each operates according to procedures which the other finds distasteful… Above all, it is the warrior, in placing himself on the margin of the code, or even beyond it, who appropriates the right to pardon, to break through the mechanisms of hard justice, in short, the right to introduce some flexibility into the strictly determined course of human relations: to pave the way for humanity.”

Dumézil would expand the thesis of this book in his Mythe et Épopée, vol. 2, available in English as the book The Stakes of the Warrior, where he corrects certain parts of his argument and further fleshes it out with another example from India, that of Shishupala, but it is written with the assumption that one is familiar with what is written in this book: this remains the essential reading on the Indo-European warrior, how he was seen and how he was mythologically represented.

[Queralt]

me fascina la erudición de este hombre y como compara diferentes mitologias y tradiciones en el contexto de la cultura indoeuropea. El autor compara figuras como Hercules e Indra y analiza la transgresión de las 3 funciones que regian las sociedades (sacerdotal/guerrera/productiva).

[Gaspar]

Rating: 5.5/10
An interesting thesis that is buried beneath an excessively narrow focus on Indra and a presentation that takes far too long to establish what it wants to prove.

The main thesis of the book is:

"Let us consider the central motif of Indo-European ideology, the conception according to which the world and society can live only through the harmonious collaboration of the three stratified functions of sovereignty, force, and fecundity."

The focus is on the second of these functions: the warrior, although the book also deals somewhat with the two different aspects of the ruler (sovereignty), whether gods or kings, and these aspects of the god ruler are the malevolent sorcerer or benevolent creator of order.
The warrior generally cooperates with the ruler, but can sometimes be somewhat rebellious / sinner , seeking help from the third aspect—the gods of fertility and wealth—instead of the ruler himself.

Unfortunately, despite being a short book, it is poorly executed in the presentation of its thesis and theories. It takes far too long with its focus on Indian texts and Indra, returning again and again to Indra, far beyond what would be necessary for him to serve as the model for "practically all Indo-European warrior heroes and gods."

Almost 2/3 of the book is simply about Indra and comparisons between him and Roman figures, while it rarely moves into the broader sphere of Indo-European mythology, and even Indo-Iranian mythology.

So the few warriors actually treated in the book are Cúchulainn, Starkad, and Hercules.
And these are treated because the author can compare them with Indra.

There are only a few detours dealing with Zoroastrianism and Iranian aspects, or Óðinn and Thor, but in general the book focuses on very few mythological and historical figures.

Trita Āptya, Horatius, and Tullus also occupy a considerable amount of space, but again, they are there to serve theses involving Indra.

For this reason, the title of the book, both in the original French and in English, is somewhat dishonest. It would have been better to call the book something like Indra and His Parallels in Indo-European Culture.

Only after half of the book do the Greeks and the Norse begin to receive any substantial amount of space.

When too great a variation appears, the author simply claims that some later author altered the mythological elements in particular versions, while only the versions that agree with his theories are considered legitimate.

After the extremely long comparisons between a few figures and Indra, the book focuses somewhat superficially on initiation rituals and the promotion of warriors, involving the "killing" of a clay figure or an already dead carcass.

As for the warriors themselves, although they appear to have the same underlying background, differences begin to emerge, whether because of the prominence of certain gods in particular mythologies — such as Norse mythology, where Óðinn is a rare case of a god who embraces both the aspects of sovereignty and force — or because of changes in the warrior ideal itself.

The Romans, for example, removed the aspect of furor early on, while maintaining part of the lack of pity — even toward members of their own family — which eventually transformed into a more "civilized" figure with more sociable behavior focused on the greater good;
"The notion of "sin" which tradition had probably attached to the prototypes, to the pre-Roman forms of these two acts, was not thereby lost in the shuffle; it was only transferred to points at which neither Horace nor Tullus implicated Rome, where the one gave way to his pride and anger, where the other gave vent to his cruel nature, transforming a necessary execution into a revolting torture."

The warrior therefore also embodies two aspects: the barbarian and the chivalrous.

However, this is more of a cycle than a mere evolution, because both aspects were present from the beginning in Indo-European mythology. The barbarian aspect unfortunately ended up losing ground, in much the same way that FUROR was gradually left behind in favor of a more justified anger, or anger tied to institutions rather than something purely personal.

"I wrote thirty years ago, 'that the god of men's societies, often frightful in so many respects, should appear in Indian fable, in opposition to the magical binder, as a merciful god, the god who delivers the regular victims, the human victims, of Varuna. The warrior and the sorcerer, or, on another level, the soldier and the policeman, work equally, when occasion demands, for the liberty and the life of their fellows; but each operates according to procedures which the other finds distasteful. Above all, it is the warrior, in placing himself on the margin of the code, or even beyond it, who appropriates the right to pardon, to break through the mechanisms of hard justice, in short, the right to introduce some flexibility into the strictly determined course of human relations: to pave the way for humanity.'"

This small part of the book is one of the most interesting. It is easy to connect that quotation to the heroic figures of pulp literature, from Conan the Barbarian to the protagonists of hard-boiled detective stories.

Finally, the warrior has a certain fatality attached to him, generally after committing three faults or reprehensible actions. In general, each of these sins is connected to one of the three aspects, including the warrior aspect itself. In this case, it is generally when a hero kills an enemy in a cowardly and dishonorable way.

As a whole, the book serves to show how deeply the numbers 3 and the aspect of duality are rooted in Indo-European culture.

Gods and heroes facing some form of triplicity.
Different aspects within the same archetype, sometimes appearing as dualities.

Three dominant archetypes of society, which are hierarchical functions.

Three brothers involved in a quest, with the third being the hero who triumphs over his older brothers and over external enemies.

Three sins or crimes. Speaking about sins;
Trita Ãptya and Horace are compared and linked, including in terms of the sin committed that requires purification.

The passage describes a chain of ritual guilt being transferred: the gods pass the “bloody part” of the sacrifice onto men, and these men successively pass the stigma on to people considered increasingly impure or guilty. The sequence ends with the man who killed another man and, finally, with the one who caused an abortion. After him, “the sin does not pass".

My interpretation is that abortion functions here as the absolute limit of this chain: it is the one sin/stigma that cannot be transferred to another person. Guilt can be successively unloaded onto other transgressors, but it stops with the one who committed an abortion.
This only makes the whole "pro-choice" discourse even more interesting...

The central idea is interesting. The problem is that the book spends an excessive amount of time proving the same idea through a relatively small collection of figures, with Indra occupying so much of the discussion that the supposedly broader subject of the warrior becomes surprisingly narrow.
In my opinion, the book unfortunately presented very little new information.
The book's flaws only become more evident if you've already read other works on history and anthropology by French authors, who were generally competent and still capable of adding a certain charm and personality to the presentation of their subjects.