Myths and the human experience
MYTHS play a central role in all human societies, from those in continental Africa to those in Western Europe, from those on the steppes of Russia to those in the Asiatic triangle.
If we wish to know and learn about how the world was conceived, how people worshipped and the ways in which they made sense of the world, we would undoubtedly tap into, for example, the continent of Africa’s oral traditions. Additionally, the universality of the role of ancestors and the importance accorded to funeral rites are two further examples associated with the continent.
In Europe, on the other hand, we would need to analyse and interpret the role that the distillation of Greek mythology has played in Western societies over the millennia by examining its ancient roots.
These have provided us with not only explanatory tools for a religiosity based on the gods, but they have the added dimension of serving us with narratives that are expressions of human endeavour, of human endurance, and, arguably, the resolution of moral dilemmas in the face of insurmountable odds. We still admire the Trojan wars, Jason and his Argonauts’ quest for the Golden Fleece and the Oedipus conundrum.
Undoubtedly, these myths have a timeless and universal appeal, since they arguably continue to resonate and impress upon us notions of our human condition.
Since myths abound in every society, ancient and modern, as a conscious and contrived means of propagating and establishing not only our genesis but also our religiosity, our culture, our psychological and social well-being, our institutions, and our philosophical boundaries, we find therefore that they have a peculiar place in the spectrum of how societies then and now cohere in their myriad ways.
For example, notions of democracy are held in high in esteem. In (apparently) democratic societies, every adult has a chance to cast a vote and have a say in how a particular community, society or country should be governed by those elected.
If we examine and analyse this conception of governance as another “modern” myth, we may come to the realisation that these notions of democracy have obfuscated and blurred our individual contribution to the process of genuine participation.
Instead of having a direct input into what affects our lives, we are led to believe that those who are elected to represent us have as their prime concern a genuine desire to serve us. We understand the notion that the way that representative governance has evolved over time, given not only the complexity of modern society but also the huge number of voters involved, that direct participation would be difficult.
However, Switzerland may have exceptionally provided us with an example of governance via referenda.
Myths precipitate narratives that embed themselves in the world views of individuals. When the great explorers of the 14th and 15th centuries – including Columbus, Magellan, Vespucci, Drake, Raleigh and later Cooke and Livingstone – traversed the “new worlds”, they not only precipitated colonisation but established ways of seeing peoples of the world from a European perspective, and thereafter caused the mythical journey to a view of mankind that embraced hierarchy and entrenched bigotry.
In fact, that expansionist view of the world by the Europeans led ultimately to the slave trade where human beings were treated as objects of trade. That, in turn, led to the greatest myth of all: the conception that humanity is typologically divisible.
It is said that historically, slavery was not only part and parcel of territorial annexation, but also the result of plundering and conflict, and that the “Arabs” who traded in slaves paved the way for the Western-oriented slave trade that began in the latter part of the 16th century.
During this era, people of Africa, in particular, were traded as objects or commodities, and, since to the Europeans they were alien in their culture, they were treated as a sub-human species. This view of the enslaved became an essential myth that became further embedded during the post-abolition period when the European Establishment – aided by their merchants, media moguls, the new industrialists and others – cemented a view of those freed from slavery as not deserving of their “freedom”, since they were “not like us”.
For them, the abolition of the slave trade meant huge losses of income, wealth, power and prestige. Characterisations and caricatures appeared in the press of the day that vilified and depicted former slaves as rapacious, untrustworthy and uncivilised.
These perceptions were, in turn, given scientific credibility, and the obvious differences in physiognomy and skin colour (between the Europeans and people of Africa, in particular) were used as explanations for treating people (by the Europeans) as less than human, and therefore as less intelligent and less deserving.
Unfortunately, the “racial” divisions that have accompanied the advent of slavery and colonisation have become the sine qua non for the rampant bigotry of the post-abolition era and beyond. As a corollary of that history, people to this very day believe in “the greatest myth of all”.
It seems that our history and traditions have caused us to believe that we, as a species, are divided “racially”. We have come to believe profoundly that humanity has divisions based particularly on skin colour and to a lesser extent on origin and culture.
It may be argued that the narration of myths in general terms is part and parcel of the way in which we make sense of our existence and provides us with explanations and corroborations for our very being. However, their intent seems an exercise in subverting rather than revealing truths that would aid our appreciation of each other, or as an aid to finding commonalities of experience.