The Light and Darkness of the Waters
Empire and the deities and spirits of our lakes and rivers
I sat in a small orange kayak as the water beneath me dropped 55 feet in 12 minutes. The behemoth concrete and metal structure before me loomed large as a demonstration of human ingenuity and how far we will go to control the natural world. I was passing through Lock and Dam 1 in the Twin Cities. They were getting input from the community on whether it and another dam just upriver should be removed. Despite living near Lock and Dam 14 and 15, even working at a restaurant that boasted eagle watching in the winter because the eagles fished in the turbulence after the dam, I had never gone through a dam before. The only thing that ran through my mind as I waited for the water level to lower was how much power this river must hold if humans had to build a structure that massive to try to contain it.
With the exception of the Upper and Lower St. Anthony Falls Dams in Minneapolis, Lock and Dam 1 is the northernmost dam on the river. This means the river is moving far less water there than as it progresses downriver, to the south. In other words, the river only gets more powerful from there. At the time I floated through, I thought the river had only been there since the end of the last Ice Age. I started trying to do the math of how many gallons of water passed through that point every second for the last 12,000 years. However, recent research has shown the Mississippi River may be 70 million years old! For context, the Missouri River is believed to be about 2 million years old. Sitting in the presence of immense power and deep time, I wonder, which came first, the waters or the water goddesses?
In the setting of my exploration of watershed discipleship last week, I learned of the story of Tiamat, an oceanic goddess, who was the progenitor of all life, in the Babylonian tale, Enuma Elish, who was eventually slain by her grandson, Marduk, god of the Sun, who became ruler of the gods after the slaying. Enuma Elish is one of the first recorded stories we have found to date. This creation myth seems to lay the groundwork for civilization and empire. This story has me wondering, is control of the waters a key feature of empire?
The oldest known irrigation system was found in Mesopotamia around 6000 BCE. In The Dawn of Everything, authors David Graeber and David Wengrow challenge the conventional wisdom that agriculture automatically pushed people toward civilization and that urbanization automatically pushed people toward hierarchical governance. I am not a historian, nor am I particularly well read on this topic. However, their perspective adds nuance and complexity to the stories we have told ourselves, so I suspect that there is at least a little something to it.
In ancient Babylon, water management was integral to growing food in areas with good soil, but minimal rain. However, over 1500-2000 years (i.e. as long as from the Roman Empire to now), irrigation led to increased salt in the soil, eventually resulting in famine and the fall of the empire. This is a common issue in irrigated arid landscapes and is causing problems in some western US ecosystems currently.
Most of the earliest civilizations Ancient Egypt, China, Mesopotamia, South America, and Central America all maintained control over water. Some historians call these hydraulic empires, believing that their control over the water was an effective means to control the population as well. However, other historians argue that some of these civilizations existed prior to the development of water systems and that there is no evidence to link dynastic authority to the administrative needs of large canal systems. However, empires have continued to maintain control over water systems. The Roman Empire is known for its control of the waters through aqueducts. The Angkor Empire in southeast Asia also used technology to manage the boom-bust cycles of monsoon and dry seasons. As I mentioned above, water systems in the US are large and complicated.
The subjugation of Tiamat by Marduk, can represent several other subjugations: feminine to masculine, village to empire, darkness to light, wildness to control. Interestingly, these water deities share some remarkable similarities and some important differences from monotheistic deities (at least in the modern understandings of them).
First, the water deities are associated both with creation and destruction. Tiamat is known as the maker and even in her destruction, she provides the raw materials for creation. She is associated with water, but also chaos. It is clear that indigenous cultures throughout the world had an understanding that the waters are a powerful force, not to be trifled with. Similarly, Danu, in Irish mythology, birther of the Tuatha de Danaan, who likely represent pre-Christian deities in Celtic culture. Danu is both a mother goddess of rivers, wisdom, and fertility, but also a warrior goddess of destruction. Her descendants Boann and Sionnan violated norms, eating salmon of wisdom (which was taboo, especially for women) and challenging the powers of wells. Their respective violations each released deluges and they became the River Boyne and the River Shannon respectively.
Sometimes, these light and dark sides of water are contained in two separate deities. In Germanic mythology, Aegir, god of the sea, often represents the benevolent aspects of the sea, acting as a gracious host. His wife, Ran, represents the darker aspects, often known for drowning seafarers and dragging them to the underworld. Similarly, several cultures along the Mississippi, like the Ojibwe and the Sauk made offerings to Mishibizhi or Namipeshwa respectively. These beings live in lakes or rivers. Bodies of water with a lack of fish, oddly colored water, a sudden drop-off in the lake floor, or a deep hole or chasm are thought to be places where Mishibizhi reside. Mishibizhi are often represented as the Great Lynx or other large cat or as a serpent. They rule the waters and the underworld and serve as a reminder that there are some places we aren’t meant to spend too much time (on the water, under the earth, in the spirit realm unguarded). In this case, the Thunderers or Thunder Beings are the counterpoint to Mishibizhi. They cleanse the waters or the Mishibizhi and return fish to them. “Thunderers help the world not only by cleansing bodies of water, but by creating the fires which renew the earth and allow the flourishing of new growth.” In this case, the Thunderers represent the life-giving, fertile elements of water, while Mishibizhi represent the destructive, chaotic elements.
Deities carrying both light and dark sides run counter to how many of us understand God as a monotheistic deity, who though they are all powerful, we expect to also always be good, and to be good in ways that are good for us. This expectation that God is always good, leaves us all grappling with why bad things happen to good people and why God allows war, natural disasters, and other tragedies to occur. These deities that contain dualities help us to remember that creation isn’t about us. We can learn and receive from creation in ways that don’t account for deserving, ways we never can repay. However, these lakes and rivers, these water spirits and deities are not here for us. These beings remind us water can be gentle, nurturing, and life-giving or water can tell us to “f*** around and find out”.
This piece went a bit of a different direction than I had originally imagined, so the following poem didn’t weave in as well as I imagined, but I think it calls for something from us nonetheless. I can’t resist sharing this delight that Tanmeet Sethi shared. It is a poem by John O’Donohue:
Fluent
I would love to live like a river flows, carried by the surprise of its own unfolding.
Wow, Amy. Loved this. My visit to the headwaters of the Mississippi two weekends ago and my many walks in St. Paul have given me a deep appreciation of the power of that mighty waterway. Living near the Lock and Dam, with its implications of control and danger has been sobering. Thank you for this fascinating guided tour through the history, geology, and culture associated with water. I hope you are writing a book.
Thank you, Amy, quite fascinating. There are examples - the acequias in New Mexico, for example - of irrigation governance without a hierarchical organization.