III. A Deity with Earthly Needs
Why would a politician call himself a “god”? The answer might take the shape of a question: Who would dare to defy a “god”? A state led by a god is no more a human mechanism but a divine vehicle to bring destiny. The heavenly favored political group exercising “the monopoly of violence” and the “monopoly of decision”[1] becomes immediately legitimized among its population and instantly feared among the population of its rivals. Nevertheless, in order to be a god, one has to seem divine.
In Mesopotamian tradition, the gods were depicted as wearing head-dresses whose main characteristic was the presence of horns on top of them. In addition, divine figures were logically and typically represented as bigger and taller than humans, as a symbol of their upper status in the universal order. An example of this is the “Stele of the Vultures” which shows, on one side, the mundane plane of a battle; while, on the other side, the divine plane is depicted with the god Nigirsu as a huge figure, clearly different in proportions from the humans.[2]
[1] These two concepts are taken from Weber and Schmitt ideas on the State, respectively. See: Max Weber, Economía y sociedad, (Mexico City: Fondo de Cultura Económica, 1994), 1056; Carl Schmitt, Teología política, trans. Francisco J. Conde y Jorge Navarro (Madrid: Trotta, 2009), 18.
[2] Irene J. Winter, “After the Battle is Over: The Stele of the Vultures and the Beginning of Historical Narrative in the Art of the Ancient Near East,” Studies in the History of Art, 16 (1985), 11–32.
In the “Victory Stele,” Naram-Sin’s depiction has two main characteristics: on the one hand, the king is represented as a divinity by wearing the horned head-dress reserved just for the gods; on the other, the Akkadian emperor image is almost twice taller than those of the other humans in the stele. This leader of Agade was not a leader just favored by the gods —as the king depicted in the “Stele of the Vulture”—, but rather he was a god himself, sovereign by his own favor.
On top of the above-mentioned, it is possible to see that the figure of this god-king and his armies —the whole representation of the Akkadian state— go upwards. The battle against the Lullubites took place in the mountains, in the eastern part of Mesopotamia; but why the Akkadian army and its leader where not depicted in a horizontal plane, just with the mountains as background —for example. It can be implied from this ascendant representation that nor the mountains neither the tactic advantage they give to the defender could stop the Akkadian, divine army. This image is also a statement not only of one victory but of a victorious state. With each triumph Naram-Sin and his city approached even more to the divine plane, climbing easily, unstoppably over the defeat of their enemies. Even more, Akkadian preeminence is not only patent to men; it is also witnessed by gods, depicted as stars on top of the scene. Shamash —god of Justice—, from the divine plane, affirms Akkadian supremacy.
Naram-Sin’s apotheosis needed to be publically and widely represented. This new god had political needs, and in order to satisfy them, he had to enter pictorially to the Mesopotamian pantheon. What is the use of being a political god if this attribution cannot increase power if it cannot add to the cause of political supremacy? The reason behind such a victorious and overwhelming representation of the Akkadian state over its Lullubite rivals is to assert the divine and ultimate power of its leader and, therefore, its own decisive power. Because what is more compelling than the power owned by the gods, those who rule the universe?