The Cosmic Ocean. Paul K. Chappell
underlying causes of natural disasters and plague, nature seems to have psychotic tendencies. Later in this book we will explore various religious systems, including the violent rituals of the Aztecs, to further show how psychotic nature can seem when we imagine it has a human personality.
A natural disaster can slaughter your family, but it can also save your family. After the Mongols conquered China and Korea, they attempted to conquer Japan. In the book Divine Wind: The History and Science of Hurricanes, Kerry Emanuel describes how Japan was saved from two Mongol invasions by typhoons. Like the ancient Greeks and countless populations throughout history, the Japanese personified nature and saw the typhoons as acts of divine intervention. Emanuel explains:
In the year 1259, Kublai Khan, the grandson of Genghis Khan, became emperor of Mongolia … Thus it came to pass that Kublai mounted an invasion to conquer Japan … On October 29, 1274, the invasion began. Some 40,000 men, including about 25,000 Mongolians and Chinese, 8,000 Korean troops, and 7,000 Chinese and Korean seamen, set sail from Korea in about 900 ships … The Japanese defenders were horrified by the Mongol cavalry charging off the beaches, steeped as they were in the tradition of hand-to-hand combat between knightly warriors. With fewer troops and inferior weapons, the Japanese were rapidly pushed back into the interior. But by nightfall, the Korean pilots sensed an approaching storm and begged their reluctant Mongol commanders to put the invasion force back to sea lest it be trapped on the coast and its ships destroyed at anchor … The ships of the time were no match for the tempest, and many foundered or were dashed to bits on the rocky coast. Nearly 13,000 men perished, mostly by drowning. The Mongols had been routed by a typhoon …
The second Mongol invasion of Japan assumed staggering proportions. One armada consisting of 40,000 Mongols, Koreans, and north Chinese was to sail from Korea, while a second, larger force of some 100,000 men was to set out from various ports in south China. To gauge the size of this expeditionary force, consider that the Norman conquest of Britain in 1066 engaged 5,000 men …
On the fifteenth and sixteenth of August [1281], history repeated itself. Once again, the Korean and south Chinese mariners sensed the approach of a typhoon and attempted to put to sea. But the fleet was so unwieldy and poorly coordinated that many of the ships collided at the entrance of Imari Bay and were smashed by the typhoon, as were most of those that made it to the open ocean … The wreckage and loss of life was staggering. Once again, Kublai Khan’s designs on Japan were defeated by a typhoon, and never again did he attempt such an invasion. As a direct result of these famous routs, the Japanese came to think of the typhoon as a “divine wind,” or kamikaze, sent by their gods to deliver their land from invaders.16
When our ancestors lacked the scientific means to explain the underlying causes of natural disasters, they often personified nature. To understand how the personification of nature affected the behavior of our ancestors, we can look at the Spartans. Today pop culture and action movies have glorified the Spartans as the bravest and fiercest warriors who ever lived, but when I studied military history at West Point, the reality of the Spartans surprised me.
Most people today don’t realize how extremely superstitious the Spartans were. Their superstitious rituals can seem very odd to us today, but their behavior makes sense when we recognize their lack of scientific explanations for natural disasters and their belief in fickle gods capable of psychotic behavior. Historian Alfred Bradford describes how the superstitious beliefs of the Spartans caused them to sacrifice animals to the gods, look for omens in the organs of these sacrificial animals, and change their military plans if they believed the gods were upset:
The [Spartan] kings’ most important sacred duty was to determine the will of the gods and, in particular, the will of the king of the gods, Zeus, their ultimate progenitor, before they led the army out of Sparta and out of Laconia [the Spartan territory]. The kings conducted sacrifices in Sparta to Zeus the Leader and to Athena and the other gods associated with Zeus. They observed the soothsayer as he conducted the sacrifice and examined the liver [of the sacrificial animal], its general shape, its texture, and its lobes; then they would determine if the omens were favorable. If they were, the kings instructed a Spartan known as the “Fire-Bearer” to light a torch at the altar and lead the army to the border of Laconia: at the border the kings again would conduct sacrifices to Zeus and Athena. If they determined that the omens were still favorable, then, and only then, would they lead their army across the border.
The kings stood between their people and the gods—to recognize and avert, or circumvent, divine displeasure and to curry divine favor. If the resident god of a river forbad them to cross, could they go around without risking divine retribution? If the enemy declared a certain month sacred, only to prevent an attack by the Spartans, could the Spartans ignore the declaration? If they were shaken by an earthquake while they were on campaign, was the earthquake a warning to the Spartans or an ill omen for their enemies?
On the day the kings expected to fight, if they had detected no cautionary signs, they initiated the religious ceremonies preparatory to a battle—they sacrificed to the Muses (to invite them to witness the courage of the Spartans and to inspire poets to write about their heroic deeds); and they sacrificed a goat, not to examine its liver, but simply to offer it to the gods as a treat. After they had completed these preliminaries, they ordered the Spartans to form their phalanx, and, at the first sight of the enemy phalanx, they instructed their men to put wreaths on their heads (as portents of victory), and they told the flute-players to play the royal battle song, “The Song of Castor,” and they sang it, too.17
The Spartans were so superstitious that when the Persians invaded Greece in 490 BC, the Spartans did not join Athens in the Battle of Marathon because they thought fighting before the full moon would upset the gods. Historian Peter Krentz describes how Philippides, the runner who inspired the race that became known as the “marathon,” tried unsuccessfully to enlist the help of the Spartans:
Before they left Athens, the generals sent Philippides, a professional distance runner, to Sparta. Probably running barefoot, Philippides reached Sparta the day after he left Athens—that is, he covered roughly 150 miles (on the most likely route) in not more than about 36 hours. If the story once seemed incredible, it does no longer. In 1982, two RAF [Royal Air Force] officers ran from Athens to Sparta in 34 and 35.5 hours, demonstrating that Philippides could have done what Herodotus says he did …
When he reached Sparta, Philippides asked for help. “Spartans,” Herodotus reports that he said, “the Athenians beg you to rush to their defense and not look on passively as the most ancient city in Greece falls into slavery imposed by barbarians. For in fact Eretria has already been enslaved, and thus Greece has become weaker by one important city.” In reply, the Spartans expressed their willingness to help, but said that they could not act yet. It was the ninth of the month, and a law prevented them from marching until the moon was full. The law in question probably applied only to the month of Karneia, during which the Spartans celebrated the festival of [the god] Apollo that gave its name to the month. Scholars of an earlier generation tended to dismiss Spartan religious qualms as specious excuses for inaction, but today it is generally recognized that the Spartans paid particular attention to the gods in their military life.18
Wanting to protect Greece from a Persian invasion, and looking for military victory and glory, the Spartans departed after the full moon to help Athens, but when they arrived the Athenians had already won the Battle of Marathon. The Spartans, who wished to be celebrated by future generations as brave warriors who fought in famous battles, had missed an opportunity to fight in one of the most famous battles in history—because of the moon. Greek historian Herodotus said, “After the full moon, 2,000 Spartans marched to Athens in such great haste that they arrived in Attica [the Athenian homeland] on the third day out of Sparta. They were too late to engage in battle.”19
West Point never taught me that winning a military campaign had anything to do with sacrificing animals in a religious ceremony, finding omens in a goat’s liver, or fighting battles on days that will please rather than anger the gods. When I studied the reality of the Spartans that