The Enuma Elish — Tablet I — The Primordial Battle

The Enuma Elish was the Babylonian Creation Epic, which is also called The Seven Tablets of Creation, as it explores a collection of stories and legends detailing the creation of the ‘Universe’, the Earth, the Gods, and eventually Man, with all the major trials and tribulations included, over the course of Seven Tablets. This is in all probability the origin of the Genesis concept of God creating the world in seven days. Thus the Enuma Elish is an important resource for developing an understanding of the mythology, history, and mind of the people of ancient Mesopotamia, and their influence on the modern world.

The Enuma Elish, Tablet I :: The Primordial Battle

“When the heavens above did not exist,
And earth beneath had not come into being –
There was Apsu, the first in order, their begetter,
And demiurge Tia-mat, who gave birth to them all;
…
When not one of the gods had been formed
Or had come into being, when no destinies had been decreed,
The gods were created within them…”
[The opening lines of the Enuma Elish, W. G. Lambert translation.]

In the Beginning… The Birth of the Gods

Before the Cosmos above and the Earth below had come into being, there was Tiamat, and the Abzu. Tiamat was the great abyss, the primordial sea, the womb within which all of the gods were born. Abzu the “begetter”, was the male principle, described by some as the ‘sentient sea’, who was the counterpart and spouse of Tiamat.

Long before there was land upon which our meadows and our forests lie, long before there was earth for rivers to run through, mountains to rise upon, and for the marshes where the reeds and rushes grow and fish swim, there was nothing but Abyss – Tiamat. Then, one day, Tiamat and Abzu, the Primordial Sea and the Sentient Sea, began to “mingle their waters” in a dynamic act of creation.

Through their union, the gods grew within them. The first gods that were created within Tiamat and the Abzu were Lahmu and Lahamu, whose size increased swiftly with their age. Yet while they were still growing, two more siblings were born into their family – Anshar and Kishar. Anshar’s name meant “Horizon of Heaven” while Kishar meant “Horizon of Earth”. [5] These two younger siblings grew swiftly, and soon they had surpassed their elders Lahmu and Lahamu in size. As the ceaseless ages wore on, a new being was conceived by the demiurge Tiamat. Anu was his name, and from the time he was born, it was foretold that he would become a powerful rival to those who came before, even that he would go so far as to equal Anshar. [1]

In time, Anu begot Enki [whom the Babylonians called Nudimmud], who was “the champion among his fathers.” [1] Enki was imbued with supreme intelligence and creativity, along with prodigious strength, and the wisdom to use these powers discerningly. Even among the great gods, his brothers, Enki had no equal.

Each were powerful beyond imagination, and willful too, so they sometimes clashed in their meandering paths. When they came together, well, their clamor was prodigious. They were loud and boisterous. Always competing and shouting, dancing and singing, each with their own designs always underway.

In time their noise grew so loud that it began to greatly disturb Tiamat, their mother who had bore each one of them. They jarred her concentration, strained her nerves, and disrupted her peace, her work, and her rest. With their dancing and their loud singing voices they spread unease throughout Anduruna, the Heavenly Abode. [3]

Evil Ways

Even after the birth of his children, Abzu was not diminished in his might. Yet even the Abzu had no power to reduce the clamor of the young gods or to change their wandering paths, which were in disarray. Even Tiamat was tired of their noise, however, she had more control born of her love for her children and “was silent when confronted with them”. [1]

However, both Tiamat and the Abzu were now in confusion because the path of their children was in disorder. It’s balance was disturbed, there was no harmony. It was evil. So Abzu called to his loyal vizier (high official), his obedient messenger, Mummu, and bid him to prepare to meet with Tiamat, for he had come to a conclusion in his mind. “Come, unto Tiamat let us go!” called Abzu to Mummu…

So they went and before Tiamat they lay down,
They consulted on a plan with regard to the gods, their sons.
Apsu opened his mouth and spake,
And unto Tiamut, the glistening one, he addressed the word:
…their way…
By day I can not rest, by night I can not lie down in peace.
But I will destroy their way, I will…
Let there be lamentation, and let us lie down again in peace.”
[2]

Yet when Tiamat heard these words, that Abzu had even considered the killing of his children, she was distraught. She raged and fumed at her partner, cursing his name. In anger yes, but also in confusion, for she could not agree to destroying what they had together created. She believed that her children deserved a chance to learn and grow so that they may one day mature into a more harmonious and balanced path, to which end she perceived they required discipline. She was in favor of making their selfish paths more difficult by strictly imposing their own will on their children to correct their lawless ways, and she said as much to the Abzu:

“How can we destroy what we have given birth to?
Though their behavior causes distress, let us tighten discipline graciously.” [1]

Abzu heard her words, but they did not speak to the desire which grew in the darkness of his heart. Yet when the conniving, treacherous Mummu whispered his words of evil, Abzu listened. Mummu was his faithful messenger, the first born between him and Tiamat who brought joy to his heart for the obedience that he showed his father. Mummu had also seen what had been growing in the Abzu, so he knew which words to utter: “Let us destroy their way, Father, so that you may sleep once again. Let us end their willful, selfish ways.” These words spoke directly to the secret desire in the Abzu, and with the reality of peace approaching once again, Abzu felt a twinge of relief for the first time in these many long years.

The Revolt of the Gods

However, something happened that the Abzu did not expect. The young gods heard all that was planned against them. This revelation stunned them into trembling and worried silence. “How could our parents do such a thing? Where we not their prized creations?” they asked themselves. So they sat in hurt silence broken only by their intermittent mumbling, their eyes “pinched”.

Yet Enki was thinking deeply. He was not shocked at his parents decision, for he was the god “who excels in knowledge” who was both “skilled and learned” and who “knows everything, [and] perceived their tricks.” [1] He listened to their muttering, but instead divorced himself from his emotions and concentrated all of his intelligence and ingenuity into thinking of a way out of this predicament, some scheme, any way to avoid the death of his siblings. Within the midst of this black mood, a light pierced through in the form of a plan taking shape in his mind. It was an evil plot, yes, but one that was made necessary by the rashness of his parents decision, and the power that he knew they possessed in plenty to make it a reality.

Enki’s plan was simple: he devised an incantation, a perfect spell, potent not necessarily in its power, but in its subtlety which made it so the Abzu could not avoid. He whispered his incantation into the waters and with his intent sent it towards the Abzu, who was caught in Enki’s net and fell into a deep sleep. With the Abzu slumbering away, and with Mummu running around mindlessly in agitation with no power to stop him, Enki strode forwards in unbending dispassionate resolve and slew Abzu, his father.

[There are some indications that Enki doesn’t actually kill Abzu but imprisons him, potentially in the deep sleep he cast upon him.]

Mummu wailed at the deadly stroke, for he knew now he had no hope, and continued to whimper as Enki then took Abzu’s aura and cloaked himself in it, ripping the crown from his head, and placing it upon his own. Only then did he turn his attention to Mummu, who froze in fear as Enki approached. Mummu he was not gentle with because he knew that it was Mummu’s evil who had caused this course of events by putting such sinister and deceitful thoughts into his father’s head. He would have rather taken the life of Mummu, but with no desire to take any more blood than he had to, he tied a “nose-rope” on Mummu, holding it firmly in his hand. This was his punishment.

The Birth of Marduk

After Enki had defeated his enemies, now adorned with Abzu’s crown and cloaked in his aura, he founded his new abode and temple – which he had designed himself – on the Abzu, the Sentient Sea. He formed his living chambers within his new abode, and retreated within them.

He was not proud of what he was forced to do, and felt guilt for the deed, yet he knew in his heart that it was necessary. That it was required as a destiny that had been decreed he had no doubt. In the midst of the twisted tumbling of grief ridden thoughts, the beautiful Damkina, the “Pure Woman of Heaven”, his wife, glided unnoticed into the room. She leaned against the bedpost and cast her eyes on the partner of her heart. Enki lay on the bed with his face turned up to the ceiling, one arm draped across his eyes. Even half-covered she could see that they were shrouded in darkness. She did not say anything, but lay gracefully onto the bed beside him, resting her head on his muscled chest and shoulder, sliding her left hand gently up his abdomen where she pressed lightly for a brief moment before letting it rest in the center of his chest.

Together, they lay there silently. She shared his pain without a word, because she knew nothing could be said that would ease this grief. Hours drifted by, in a way that time does only these spiritually potent places. By degrees, her patience was rewarded. Through her presence alone, his pain lifted, as if it was being dissolved away in the light of this pure woman. Without any thought or haste – for the moment was right and divinely ordained – they seated and embraced, eyes locked and love filling the little space between them. Their bodies joined together matching the tenderness, radiance, and jubilation of their spiritual union. And on this night…

“In the chamber of the destinies, the room of the archetypes,
The wisest of the wise, the sage of the gods, Be-l was conceived.” [1]

(*Note that the conception of Marduk and his rise to supremacy within the pantheon was of later Babylonian invention, and in earlier versions it could have been Enlil and his son Ninurta, or Anu and one of his son’s Enki or Enlil who were the protagonists in this story. In any case, I shall withhold from any changes and stick to the story as it was written…)

Marduk, who would one day be known as Bel (or Baal, which meant “lord” or “prince” in the ancient tongue) was born in the Abzu. Born of the wise Enki and the resplendent Damkina, Marduk could not help but inherent their qualities. He was possessed of a royal body, well developed and divinely proportioned. His radiance surpassed any of the gods. His four eyes “scanned” everything, and his four ears took in all; brimming with intelligence and power was he.

He was reared on the milk of goddesses, suckling their breasts, and he grew rapidly for it. Yet from the beginning he was already mighty. When he opened his mouth, flames shot forth between his lips. When it became time, he was taken to his grandfather, Anu. As he looked upon his grandson, his eyes gleamed and his face was lit with a proud, yet gracious, smile, and he declared Marduk to be perfect for all to hear.

Thence Marduk was clothed in the aura of the “Ten Gods”, and was armed with the “Fifty Dreads”, which were his duty to bear. Anu, in his power and his wisdom, formed the four winds just for him, which he promptly whipped up into a tornado driving dust across the land, and on the water he created a hurricane, which pounded the shores and their cities relentlessly, forcing the people to flee. The whole Earth was in chaos, imbalanced, disturbed, in confusion.

The Vengeance of Tiamat

With the Earth in confusion, the other gods, the Anunnaki, remained in pain. It had been loyal Kingu, one of their own, who had reported the deed to Tiamat as soon as it had been wrought. So these gods took their pleas to Tiamat, seeking to her impel into action, into vengeance, into revenge.

They reprimanded her for not going to Abzu’s side when he was killed, nor to Mummu’s aid who has been sitting as a prisoner ever since. Denouncing her for not coming to their aid either when their father planned to kill them.

“Consider our burden, our eyes are hollow.
Break the immovable yoke so that we may sleep.
Make battle, avenge them!” [1]

It was this last call to battle that lit the fire within her, crystallizing her anger into one course of action that ignited the savage, reckless joy of vengeance kindling within her. “If it is battle that they desire, I will give them one,” she thought to herself. Tiamat then set to her task and assembled an army of demon’s, who were gods in their own right, yet she twisted their minds and turned them against their kin. They pledged their loyalty to her, and at her side they advanced.

Day and night they lusted for battle, looking keenly towards the hour when the savage pleasure of tearing flesh would be upon them. They set up a great host. Ummu Hubur (‘Mother’ Hubur, another name for Tiamat) fashioned for her warriors powerful weapons with which to destroy the young gods. She spawned monsters, eleven ferocious creatures to assault and beleaguer the gods in their attack:

Bašmu (“Venomous Snake”), Ušumgallu (“Great Dragon”), Mušmaḫḫū (“Exalted Serpent”), Mušḫuššu (“Furious Snake”), Laḫmu (the “Hairy One”), Ugallu (the “Big Weather-Beast”), Uridimmu (“Mad Lion”), Girtablullû (“Scorpion-Man”), Umū dabrūtu (“Violent Storms”), Kulullû (“Fish-Man”) and Kusarikku (“Bull-Man”). [4]

She shrouded them in terror, and made it so they grew to fearsome size. All but the very mightiest who looked upon them were paralyzed fear. She knew that when their bodies plunged onto her enemies, none could withstand their tireless attack.

To her loyal officer and lover, Kingu, she entrusted with supreme Command over her army. He was the leader of this fearsome host, and was given authority and power whom none could question.

“She exalted Kingu; in their midst she raised him to power.
To march before the forces, to lead the host,
To give the battle-signal, to advance to the attack,
To direct the battle, to control the fight,
Unto him she entrusted; in costly raiment she made him sit, saying:
‘I have uttered thy spell, in the assembly of the gods I have raised thee to power.
The dominion over all the gods have I entrusted unto him.
Be thou exalted, thou my chosen spouse,
May they magnify thy name over all [other] Anunnaki.'” [2]

Tiamat then equipped her commander with the Tablets of Destiny, which she strapped across his breast (where it remained as he went into battle). It was this Tablet which gave Kingu the authority of Anu, of kingship, giving him both the legitimate right to rule, and the power of command. Thus it was that the inevitability of the coming battle, along with the fate of Kingu, was sealed. With his new authority, Kingu addressed his fearsome host:

“Let the opening of your mouth quench the Fire-god;
Whoso is exalted in the battle, let him display his might!” [2]

Notes

Firstly, this is not a translation. I have attempted to remain as close to the original story-line as possible, and included all the main themes and motifs. I have embellished the story slightly in my descriptions and in the characters, but so that it is more enjoyable, meaningful, and memorable to read, without changing the fundamental story-line. (This was difficult as there are parts in this epic which contradict the earlier myth and legend upon which the Enuma Elish is certainly founded, which rankled me.)

I have written this in modern English as to actually be (hopefully) somewhat interesting ad comprehensible to read. As, quite frankly, I do not find the myths of the Sumerians and Babylonians in their original form to be. Nonetheless, I commend their advancement and genuinely value the traditions of these ancients, especially considering the fact that writing had just been invented. While I have stayed true to the original Enuma Elish, I would still suggest you read a couple actual translations to get a better understanding of what the epic looked like originally.

As I stated around the Birth of Marduk section above, the Enuma Elish in its Babylonian form has been altered from the original Sumerian myths. Many have been to some degree amalgamated into one, and I can see hints of more than one within this first tablet alone. I am very interested in getting to the bottom of this and eventually reproducing the Enuma Elish with its original details and story-line. Nonetheless, I have introduced this as a beginning of our study of the Mesopotamian cultures because it introduces most of the central figures of their myth and legend, and speaks also to some degree of their mind, thus a useful starting point.

In the Babylonian version, the name Ea is used in place of Enki, although both can be used interchangeably because they refer to the same deity. I chose Enki to stay true to the Sumerian roots of this epic, and because I like the name better, not least because it is easier to pronounce. Damkina, Enki’s spouse, has gone by many names and was known by the Sumerian’s as Ninhursag, but I chose Damkina because to the modern mind (at least to my mind) it is more beautiful.

Anduruna can possibly be translated as the ‘Heavenly Abode’ of the gods. [3] I have seen Tiamat translated as ‘Abyss’, or ‘Ocean’, but I am really not clear on the actual nature or description of either Tiamat or Abzu, and suspect there are multiple layers of rewriting and amalgamation which have distorted the original plots. Thus this is a work in progress. Abzu has also been written as ‘Apsu’. The idea of being related to salty waters, or sweet waters in the case of the Abzu and Tiamat does not stem from any Sumerian source, thus it is probably of Babylonian invention, so I have abandoned it.

References

1. “The Enuma Elish” | W. G. Lambert translation | “Mesopotamian Creation Stories” | From the Ancient History Encyclopedia Article “Enuma Elish” by Joshua J. Mark
2. “The Enuma Elish :: The Seven Tablets of Creation” | L. W. King Translation [1902] | Sacred Texts
3. “Enuma Elish – The Babylonian Creation Myth” | Written by Stefan Stenudd | 2007 |
4. “Tiamat” | Wikipedia | Retrieved 10/Feb/2018
5. “An” translates as heaven, “Ki” as earth, and “Shar” as horizon, totality, or end. I am no expert in Sumerian yet, so forgive me if this translation is incorrect. But I have chosen “Horizon of Heaven” for Anshar, as “totality/end of heaven” didn’t make sense, and the same is true for Kishar, but in that case because “totality/end of Earth” didn’t make sense either.