In a word: No.
However, that’s never good enough, is it? Certainly not for me! 😉
The reason this question has come up in recent times is Dver’s post mentioning her new edition of Kharis, and the Hellenic Polytheist Survey included in it. Please note, though, that I mention this and have the answer that I do below not to criticize her, or her ideas, or her work, nor that of anyone who answered the survey by selecting that particular option. Let me reiterate that I do not, remotely, nor in any fashion, have criticism for Dver’s work, and in fact I have nothing but respect, admiration, and approbation for all that she has done and continues to do in her own particular practice of polytheism…just so we’re clear on that, eh? 😉
I realize that my thoughts on this particular matter are nuanced and somewhat idiosyncratic, and are very definitely in the minority, and I know and am well aware of that fact. I have shared them in the past, but they are still not very well-known nor well-understood, either within academic contexts nor in the wider spheres of polytheism or pagan practice. The reasons for this are many, amongst them that not very many people have done any of the following:
- Read the posts about this on my old blog (and then commented on their own understandings or agreements with my thoughts–though a few people vehemently disagreed with me, very likely for reasons having nothing to do with my actual arguments or evidence!).
- Attended the various sessions I have given on this topic at things like PantheaCon, or the various ways I bring this into other presentations I’ve done there and elsewhere on several occasions from 2010 onwards.
- Read the relevant sections of A Serpent Path Primer on this subject.
- Taken the old Academia Antinoi class on this subject (which I’m still willing to offer at present if anyone is interested and has the money and time to do so!).
- Read the full book that I’ve written on this subject, based upon and expanding on the various things mentioned above…though the main reason for this is because it isn’t out yet, but I hope that will be remedied by the end of this calendar year, if not sooner.
But, that latter point is not worth saying too much more about at present…you’ll certainly all be made aware when I publish any future books, and that one is scheduled to be a part of a. three-volume series that will be entitled “Studies in Foundational Polytheism.” Other details of further books I am planning to get out in the not-too-distant future can be found on this page. Now, no more digressions…!
To begin, just a brief note on the divergent nature of the concept of “syncretism.” It can be used in two primary fashions: to mean a methodological system of combining two or more religious traditions, practices, or cultures into a single practice (whether individually or on a wider cultural basis, e.g. Graeco-Roman-Egyptian polytheism of late antiquity); or the theological phenomenon of the linking of two different Deities from different cultures (inter-pantheonic syncretism, e.g. Zeus-Ammon, Jupiter Taranis, etc.) or different regions of the same general culture (intra-pantheonic syncretism, e.g. the way in which Renenutet, Meretseger, and other Goddesses in Egypt were syncretized to Hathor, or how a variety of local Deities that are quite divergent in the area of Ancient Greece were eventually given the name “Zeus” or “Artemis” or “Demeter” despite major differences in myth and cultus between Them in each individual location, and that were then distinguished by particular descriptive or regional epithets afterwards, such as Zeus Lykaion vs. Zeus Olympeios, Artemis Orthia vs. Artemis Brauronia, etc.). Theological syncretism does not always require methodological syncretism (as in the cases of intra-pantheonic syncretism), whereas methodological syncretism almost always involves theological syncretism.
The initiative for such syncretistic processes can stem from either divine agency or historical causes, and often it is difficult if not impossible to distinguish the difference between these. We should be very careful in dismissing cases that are definitely historical from ones that are assumed to not be divine in origin; one such common assumption is that Serapis, for example, is just due to Ptolemaic fiat rather than being a further development of some originally Egyptian theological trends involving intra-pantheonic syncretism which then spread out internationally and interculturally thereafter. There is no reason that the divine and the historical causes cannot be mutually dependent upon one another, by any means!
But, when mentioning that set of potential distinctions, we should also mention the all-too-common mistake that many modern polytheists and pagans, especially when employing a reconstructionist methodology, often assume and take for granted as a given which may not be at all: namely, that a particular scholar (who is probably not a polytheist and may have tremendous disdain for polytheists!) states “X Deity and Y Deity are probably the same” and then the modern polytheist takes their word for it rather than asking the Deities concerned if that is the case, or even if it isn’t if it is possible to approach Them that way for some reason (expediency, sharing of cultus, or any number of other possibilities). When these things happened historically and they were done by people we know were polytheists, we are in safe territory; where a scholar suggests such without any supporting evidence beyond linguistic reconstruction, cute theories, or simply just stating such because they implicitly have a bias that can’t imagine that many individual Deities existing, then we need to be very careful indeed.
Where theological syncretism is concerned, there are two potential ways to understand the phenomenon. The one that is the most common amongst scholars, many polytheist and pagan practitioners, and which is in evidence in cases where it is understood as “soft polytheism,” is what I would call equative or equational syncretism. This is the assumed meaning behind such Interpretatio Romana or Interpretatio Graeca formulations found in texts or inscriptions which seem to suggest that one Deity “is” another, functionally or existentially.
This is why many people assume, for example, that certain Greek and Roman Deities are synonymous with each other, without understanding the independent developments of the cults of each in Their respective localities and cultures: Bacchus and Dionysos may be very much “the same,” for example, and the Greek Apollon and the Roman Apollo are definitely the same, but Diana and Artemis are less so, and Mars and Ares likewise. Venus and Aphrodite may seem similar, but They are rather different in my own experience, and likewise Aphrodite’s origins in Near Eastern Goddesses like Astarte and Ishtar or Inanna seems pretty certain on a historical and phenomenological level, but the resulting Deities in each case are quite different and distinct.
And, of course, super-syncretistic Deities like Antinous clearly push the boundaries and break all of the rules and neat formulations that people wish to have…I don’t know anyone who seriously thinks that Antinous IS Dionysos, AND Hermes, AND Silvanus, and so forth…so, something else is clearly going on there. Some of this may be explained by what Edward Butler has discussed as “polycentric polytheism,” which I highly suggest everyone interested in these matters familiarize themselves with, as it will provide many rewards beyond the present discussion. Any Deity can potentially take the form of another for Their own purposes, and sometimes those temporary personae can persist, as is the case with Hermanubis, Hermes Trismegistos, and a variety of others.
Thus, with these things in mind, I have arrived at a different understanding of theological syncretism which can be in operation in many cases, without requiring or assuming that equative syncretism is necessary. This is what I call translational or metaphorical syncretism–and, incidentally, both of those terms are synonymous in Latin and Greek, respectively, because they mean “carry-over”! In a Latin altar inscription in Roman Britain, there might be an instance of, for example, Sulis Minerva. Now, clearly, the name “Sulis” refers to a Goddess that was revered in a British language at the site of modern Bath for some time before the Romans arrived; but when the latter happened, the Romans thought of this Sulis as in some way connected to or even “equal” to Minerva, and hence we have what might be thought of as an inter-pantheonic equative syncretism. However, just as “is” can be used in a metaphorical sense (e.g. “Bob is a jackass” does not mean that the human Bob is literally a male donkey, but instead that he is exhibiting characteristics which cause him to be classified in that fashion), and the Latin verb sum, esse, etc. (“to be”) can be omitted from a sentence in speech or writing while assuming that it is still there, so too can we understand that it is potentially present in these inscriptions, and can be understood in a metaphorical fashion for translational purposes.
So, the Roman reader who comes to Bath and the temple there might see the inscription and understand “Sulis is [metaphorically] Minerva” and think “Oh, I have no idea who this Sulis is, but apparently She’s like Minerva in some way.” We forget that when translating, though we find what we assume to be equivalent words or phrases between different languages, even some of the smallest words or phrases don’t translate entirely because particular cultural nuances and references might not be caught by those who do not know the full history, contextual usage, and inferences possible with a particular word. Especially in the cases where Romano-Celtic altar inscriptions give the Celtic Deity-name first and the Latin theonym second, this translational understanding is very likely, since the Celtic name is given priority; however, when the Latin name comes first, we can potentially assume that what is being conveyed is an understanding of the Celtic name as simply a local epithet of the overarching Deity known as XYZ. In the latter instances, the patterns of intra-pantheonic syncretism are then simply projected onto a larger cultural sphere, and what appeared initially to be inter-pantheonic is then simply understood as the prevailing Deity having forms known in other cultures under unfamiliar names.
To use a different set of conceits for this process, and one that is both humorous but also highly illustrative of the process involved, think about this: if I were to say “Harry Potter is the Luke Skywalker of his universe, and Luke is the Wesley Crusher of the Star Wars universe,” some people might think this is heresy for various potentially valid reasons, but others may understand that the functional role metaphorically shared between these characters (which is one that accords with particular “archetypes,” for better or worse!) can analogize in those different ways; BUT, no one would say that, outside of certain crossover fanfic situations, that one could simply pop in Luke for Harry or Harry for Wesley and expect things to run smoothly. In other words, though they are like each other, they are not each other.
So, whether or not one agrees with any of the above, and in particular the last part of my discussion, that is how I understand these things, and it is a method of understanding them which has stood me in good stead where the actual Deities are concerned and where my direct contact with Them has been involved. Lugus got very mad when a group of us tried to honor Him, but did so in terms that equated some of the deeds of Lug in Ireland and Lleu in Wales to Him, because we were using this idea prevalent in Celtic Studies circles that all of These “are” each other in an equative sense, even though Their various stories in Their individual cultures are highly divergent in a variety of ways. Similar origins in shared cultural and linguistic matrices are assumed to be “the same” when one gets to the functional level in an individual cultural context, and this simply isn’t the case (as I’ve argued elsewhere on this blog).
You may disagree–it is your right to do so!–and your own experiences may vary with mine on these matters. If you’d like to discuss it in a rational and calm manner in comments here, I’m very happy to do so; but if you begin or end with “You’re wrong,” then it will go nowhere and I’d prefer you not do so. I’m always happy to hear about people’s experiences that are different than my own; please look at the above as an example of the same, i.e. an experience different from your own (if, indeed, it is that). Experiences in and of themselves, no matter how divergent and perhaps even mutually exclusive, are not “wrong” in any inherent fashion; simply because they exist suggests to me that they be taken seriously, which I think isn’t a bad thing.