Tim Whitmarsh | Battling the Gods: Atheism in the Ancient World / 2015

ancient greek and roman atheists

by Douglas Messerli

 

Tim Whitmarsh Battling the Gods: Atheism in the Ancient World (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 2015)

 

The heroes of Greek professor Tim Whitmarsh’s new book—Diogenes the Cynic, Epicurus, Lucretius, Diagoras of Melos, Theodorus of Cyrene, Socrates, Euhemerus of Acragas, Nicanor of Cyprus and numerous Cynics, Skeptics, and Epicureans—are ancient Greek and Roman philosophers and thinkers, all of whom, in one way or another, might be linked to atheism in a time of polytheistic worship. Whitmarsh is not arguing for atheism as much as simply urging that we must not wipe it away, as many have, from the historical record. As Whitmarsh writes:

 

                  The history of atheism matters. It matters not just for

                  intellectual reasons—that is, because it behooves us

                  to understand the past as fully as we can—but also on

                  moral, indeed political grounds. History confers authority

                  and legitimacy. This is why authoritarian states seek to

                  deny it to those they do not favor, destroying historic

                  sites and outlawing traditional practice. Atheist history

                  is not embodied in buildings or rituals in quite the same

                  way, but the principle is identical. If religious belief is

                  treated as deep and ancient and disbelief as recent, then

                  atheism can readily be dismissed as faddish and inconse-

                  quential. Perhaps, even the persecution of atheists can

                  been seen as a less serious problem that the persecution

                  of religious minorities. The deep history of atheism is

                  then in part a human rights issue: it is about recognizing

                  atheists as real people deserving of respect, tolerance,

                  and the opportunity to live their lives unmolested.

 

       Yet to study ancient atheism is not an easy task. Much of the atheist literature has not survived through time, lost among so many of the great Greek and Roman literary works, or left only in fragments. At other times these materials were destroyed after the rise of Constantine and his conversion to Christianity and the later Codex Theodosius during the reign of Theodosius II, which declared laws against heretics. Other atheist statements are embedded in plays such as Euripides’Bellerophon; or, as in the cases of teachers such as Socrates, were never written down, reported only through the voice of figures such as Plato, who ultimately became a strong religious supporter—and who, through his argument for Socrates against the believers who demanded Socrates’ death, seemingly began to sympathize with the enemy, as if suffering, Whitmarsh quips, from an early version of the “Stockholm syndrome.”

       Often, Whitmarsh makes clear, what we know about atheism comes from Skeptic texts, which felt it necessary to argue both sides, and thus talk of those who did not believe as well as those who did. Some ancient texts actually summarized atheistic beliefs, forming early histories of the subject; and doxographies served often as virtual networks in summarizing various historical viewpoints that would not otherwise be available, since the ancient atheists did not generally group in schools or even encounter each other face-to-face.

       As Whitmarsh also makes clear, within the early Greek polytheism, even believers were not a coherent group, each city state and even different city regions having their own gods and cults who related to sacred places unknown to the rest of Greek world. The early “priests,” moreover, did not have sway over law or moral decorum, their purpose being primarily to oversee and celebrate religious sacrifices.

        Even the beliefs of groups often associated with atheism, such as the Epicureans must be parsed, since while claiming that if there were gods they could not possibly be anything like humans and had no desire or need to communicate with human beings, they still existed in the “void” as “thin” beings which humans encountered in dreams and visions.

       With intelligence, grace, and good humor Whitmarsh takes us through the Greek and Roman worlds in language that most educated readers can easily assimilate, laying forth time and again, arguments that help us to see the meaning of words and concepts that meant something different to the ancient world than it might to our own; and thus he helps us perceive a kind of shadow world to the more conservative god-driven worlds of Herodotus, Homer, Virgil, and others, so that by the end of his Battling the Gods one feels one has learned not only a great deal about atheism in the ancient world, but come to understand their values and religiosity as well.

      Finally, one perceives that perhaps the advancements of Catholic Christianity of the first and second centuries A.D. represent a closing down of philosophical speculation rather than an opening up of discourse. As monotheism usurped the polytheistic world, Christianity and other such religions became forces with which to war against, and to punish and destroy those who did not share the same beliefs—issues from which we are clearly suffering still today.

 

Los Angeles, St. Patrick’s Day, 2016

Reprinted from Rain Taxi (Vol. 21, no. 2, Summer 2016).