The Book of God

By Eloise Hart

Here at hand is The Desatir, which Zoroastrians call the Book of God, the message-bearer and nourisher, not only of the wisest and best, but of everyone who has understanding in his soul. It is a small volume, so old, so unusual in its mystical allegories of the nature of man, of God, and of the interrelation between planets and earthlings, that it has been cherished for thousands of years by peoples of various religious persuasions. Five hundred years before Christ it was considered "a literary relic" and the sole surviving example of the archaic, now lost, Mahabhadian language -- a language which the Oriental scholar Baron von Hammer believed links modern Germanic idiom with possibly the most ancient Asiatic dialect, spoken long ago in the northeastern part of the then vast Iranian empire, in Sogd and Bamian.

At certain times, when "mankind did evil," and could have misunderstood and misused esoteric tenets of The Desatir, it was "lost," hidden for generations perhaps in some remote library and forgotten by all but those who protected and preserved it. The present edition (Wizards Bookshelf, 1975) is a photocopy of the 1888 republication of an original 1818 English translation from the Persian made by the Parsi scholar, Mulla Firuz Bin Kaus. His translation, which aroused much interest in Zoroastrianism among students of Oriental antiquities in America, Europe and India, was in turn made from an extremely rare old manuscript Mulla Kaus's father had discovered at Isfahan around 1778.

Unlike the Bhagavad-Gita which is treasured by millions, The Desatir is today relatively unknown. This is unfortunate, for this little volume, together with the Zend-Avesta -- those surviving fragments of sacred law, said originally to have been delivered to the prophet on the mountain Ushidarinna and later written in gold on the hides of 12,000 oxen and The Dabistan, are invaluable sources of Zoroastrian inspiration and information.

Moshan Fani, the Muslim traveler who compiled The Dabistan (c. 1653) as a synopsis of twelve great religious beliefs, cites teachings from The Desatir which explain Zoroastrian doctrines, doctrines which convince many that this is the oldest and noblest of all religions. Indeed, several scholars point out that its symbolism, once understood, preserves a purer, because less altered, picture of primeval Aryan tradition than do the Vedas. For this reason it has timeless appeal.

It is remarkable, for instance, that in those days so long ago they considered all living beings as one body, a physical-intellectual-spiritual familyhood of planets and stars, of men, animals, vegetables, minerals and elemental lives of fire, air, water and earth -- all components continuously interacting and interdependent. The scope and implementation of this concept makes their philosophy infinitely altruistic and, at the same time, refreshingly practical. Recognizing all others not only as kinfolk but as truly part of themselves, and affected for good or ill by their actions and thoughts, the Zoroastrians were unbelievably considerate, never intentionally harming another, be it man, insect, or running stream. They regarded moderation essential, asceticism as harmful and degrading as overindulgence, and a healthy, disciplined body the proper instrument for a sound, clear mind to use in performing the works of the spiritual self. They pointed out further, that just as excessive mental development may lead toward cunning and its lack toward folly; and just as excessive courage tends toward contention and its lack toward cowardice, so the golden mean between these brings one to justice, wisdom and joy. Thus their rules of conduct recommend the virtues we value today: honesty, hard work, initiative, perseverance and self-restraint in pursuit of the general good; the same principles, in fact, which had enabled the Iranians to establish and maintain one of the earliest and largest empires on earth that recognized individual worth and rights irrespective of race, color or religious belief.

Then, as now, there were undoubtedly protests both from conservatives and from those who advocated still further increase of personal liberties. Disruptive as such discontent can be, it seems to be essential in the awakening of our responsibility to and for all life, as The Desatir explains in the following fable of the animals 'rebellion.' (Mulla Firuz Bin Kaus, pp. 99-108.)

Long ago when the world was new and Mazda, Monarch of All, had assigned to each being, from celestial to animal, vegetable and mineral, its own particular constitution, office, guide and guardian, an unexpected dissension arose. The animals rebelled against human dominion! All seven classes -- the harmless ones that graze, fly, crawl and swim; the ravenous animals, the birds of prey, and the insects -- all sent representatives to protest against man's rule.

First the camel spoke: "O Prophet of Mazda, tell us please, in what way is man superior that we should be subject to his dominion?"

A sage of the Lord explained, "Man is superior in many ways: by his speech . . ."

But the camel demurred, "If the purpose of speech is to be understood, surely ours excels man's whose is so varied that it cannot be understood from one country to another."

The sage was hesitant, but replied, "You have been ordained to our service."

"And you," the camel spoke slowly, "have been ordained to bring to us water, and grain, and grass."

Then an ant crawled forward and asked how else man excels. "Man excels by his shape and his upright deportment."

"But," queried the ant, "can the intelligent really pride themselves on their shape? Aren't we all equal in the combination of our parts? In fact, don't we animals surpass man in this respect also, for whereas one compares that which he loves to something superior, does not man describe his beloved as having the eyes of a doe, the grace of a partridge, the splendor of a peacock?"

So it went, the animals scoring point after point as they listed examples of what man takes from them: their feathers and fur for his raiment and pleasure, their honey and eggs, milk and flesh for his table. As they recounted their skills of science and the arts, they inquired if any man could weave, as do the birds, without loom, or could construct geometric buildings, as do the bees, without lumber or bricks.

Sage after sage was humbled. "Yes, it's all true, but while you possess only one or another of these qualities, man has them all, becomes as an angel, as a god in his wisdom and conduct!"

"Angel indeed!" chorused the animals. "His greed and brutality are worse than a beast's!"

Undismayed, the sage of the Lord continued: "Furthermore, because the whole world is one body, it is necessary to slay noxious and depraved animals, otherwise they as a disease would destroy the huge animal of which we all are parts. However, I suggest we all agree that from this day forward, no harmless animal shall ever again be mistreated or killed."

This made sense to the animals. Now they agreed to mutually respect and "hold each other dear," a commitment in which the wolf joined with the ram, and the lion with the stag. Harmony was established, tyranny ended -- until Desh-bireh the Arab broke the covenant, by not only hunting for sport but by murdering his own father. Others then abandoned their pledge; but not the gentle creatures who, to this day, honor that ancient treaty of peace.

This fable is intriguing. How, indeed, are we superior that we should be given dominion over all creation -- as also in the Hebrew-Christian and other scriptures? Why do we come out so poorly and possibly would fare even worse were the story updated? Why do the animals, with all arguments in their favor, suddenly capitulate? And what is the "great Secret" Zoroaster himself said the story explains?

Clearly it is an affirmation that whenever the animals -- not our four-footed companions but the animal qualities within ourselves -- cease their noisy demands and listen, the voice of the soul can be heard. Its guidance is always the same: in order to progress, the various units of the composite -- man -- must be "tamed," so that the "superior," the enlightened human intelligence, can direct and use them. This is only too obvious to an athlete, who depends for his trophy on the instant obedience to his will of thoroughly trained muscle and nerve.

Self-conquest, however, is not easy. Inner conflicts are often tremendous: this is dramatically characterized by the Mazdeans in the violent struggles between the forces of Ahura Mazda, Lord of Light, Goodness and Truth, and Ahriman, Lord of Darkness, Degradation and the Lie. Such battles are for the courageous, the "rebellious," whose every advance is an awakening, a testing and strengthening, and a discarding of that which confined and degraded. Invariably the mature, having won their "treaty of peace," voluntarily subjugate individual inclinations to collaborate with, protect, and "hold dear" all gentle creatures -- the forces of Good.

How cleverly this story instills basic morality, and reminds us that the amazing instinctual faculties of the lower kingdoms can be, by our human intelligence and spiritual discernment, fashioned into godlike expressions of wisdom and love -- or can be horribly perverted and made destructive. Indeed, there is a mutual interchange between ourselves and the animals, as there is between all individuals and kingdoms, each giving and taking and being enriched by the other.

Why does man liken his beloved to the deer and the peacock? Perhaps it is because in the Zoroastrian "family" there is no high, no low, only equals, each member having an independent, intelligent immortal soul -- though some know it not. "Whatever is on earth is the resemblance and shadow of something that is in the Sphere. . . . that light is the shadow of something more resplendent than itself; And so on up to Me, who am the Light of Lights" (The Desatir, p. 90).

Every individual, the Zoroastrians believe, is a microcosm of the Great Man, of the Vast World, containing and produced with the same "combination of parts." Springing forth from the "first Intelligence and the first Reason [Logos]" are: a second Intelligence or Spirit; a Soul or Mind; and a body (ibid., p. 3.) This manifold division is repeated, reflected downwards, from the divine to the spiritual, to the material levels or worlds. Each -- having been, not created, but "arranged and fashioned" by its superior -- fashions its own inferior world. In man, it is his conscious soul which, centered between its celestial Intelligence and its material form, draws sustenance from the higher as it functions in and through the lower.

The simplification of the higher as good and the lower as evil in the Mazdean scheme does not imply that these are qualities in themselves, but are so judged only according to whether their influence upon the soul is elevating or degrading. Good thoughts, words and acts enable one to purify his lower aspects so that they reflect the higher whose shadow they are. In this way he is fruitful, fulfills his divine potential, and multiplies the blessings of Good.

Is this then the fable's "great Secret"? The Persians have always endeavored to harmonize spiritual and worldly priorities, believing that the beauty, goodness, love and responsibility of natural life are realizations of divine law. Heaven and the celestial hosts never seem remote to the Iranian nomad or villager. Sun, planet, space and deity are ever present, are the essence of life and the seeming beginning and ending of all. "That person is born blind who saith that He cannot be seen. He is blind from the womb who cannot perceive the Self-existent in this splendor which is His" (The Desatir, p. 73).

But to know God, they explain, one must know himself. By knowing the small you shall know the great.

If you open the eye of your heart you will perceive that the heaven is the skin of this great Individual; Kywan (Saturn) the spleen, Barjish (Jupiter) the liver, Behram (Mars) the gall, the Sun the heart, Nahid (Venus) the stomach, Tir (Mercury) the brain, the Moon the lungs, the fixed Stars and the Mansions of the Planets the veins and nerves. . . . -- The Desatir, p. 72

Hints such as these bear the seal of the ancient gnosis, which was the inner core of the sacred teachings not only of the Zoroastrians but of all peoples of the Hither East.