I have suggested to reserve the designation creation myth or creation doctrine for a specific type of account of the cosmic beginning, namely the type in which an intelligent craftsman conceives the world in its form and then transposes this model into matter.Footnote 1 In particular, creation myth may be conceptually distinguished from cosmogony, which describes the emergence of the world in stages (or generations of gods). Cosmogony is the normal type of account of the formation of the world in the ancient Near East and Mediterranean cultures. It is likely that the eighth century bce Greek storytellers (e.g., Hesiod) took their pattern of cosmogony from their eastern neighbours.Footnote 2 In accordance with the suggested categorial distinction, the number of original creation doctrines can be reduced to three, possibly four (if we include Genesis 1):Footnote 3 the Zoroastrian creation myth, perhaps the Memphite theology of Ptah, and Plato's account of creation in the Timaeus.Footnote 4 The main scheme of creation in Zoroastrian Pahlavi texts such as the Bundahišn is adopted from the (Young) Avesta, as we will see, not only in its conception but in its actual structure, which is why we can call it the standard doctrine of creation. Nonetheless, the Pahlavi doctrine of creation is significantly influenced by Greek natural philosophy, most noticeably in the importance given by Pahlavi authors to wād, which in the context of cosmological speculations should be understood as “air”. In a more fundamental (if less conspicuous) way this influence can be seen in the rationalization of the doctrine.
This article consists of three main themes. First, I try to explain how Pahlavi authors and in particular the author(s) of the Bundahišn envisage the process of creation. What concepts do they use for this purpose, and how are these actually deployed? In their account the process of creation comprises categories of different beings, from the uncreated mēnōg beings to the created gētīg beings. This discussion should be considered an essay of historical understanding that involves conceptual explication and translation, generally following the approach of de Menasce, and (partly) Bailey and Shaked.Footnote 5 Second, I show that the Pahlavi schedule of creation is adopted from the (Young) Avesta. Although there are some variations in the Avestan account, the standard scheme we find in Zoroastrian Pahlavi texts appears to be already fixed in the Avesta (e.g., Y 19). Third, I argue that Greek philosophy significantly stamped the conceptualization and the organization of the Pahlavi accounts of creation. Terms such as tōhm or mēnōg acquire important semantic aspects and valences in the context of cosmological speculations under the influence of Greek philosophy.
The Pahlavi doctrine of creation
The most precise synopsis of the standard doctrine of creation is given by the author of Bundahišn in Bd 1.52: u-š dām ī mēnōg mēnōgīhā dārēd u-š dām ī gētīg mēnōgīhā dād u-š did be ō gētīgīhā dād “[Ohrmazd] holds the mēnōg creations in the mēnōg state; he created the gētīg world in the mēnōg state, and then he transposed it into the gētīg state”.Footnote 6 There are two stages of creation: 1) conceiving the world, and 2) making the world. Creation of the world, however, requires concepts other than the mēnōg archetypes of gētīg phenomena. The author collectively calls these concepts dām ī mēnōg. Ohrmazd's “mēnōg creations” comprise qualities (such as “constancy”: Bd 1.38), deities (such as the Amahraspandān: Bd 1.52) and the two formal dimensions of time (Bd 1.41) and space (Bd 1.44). These are necessary for the conception and the subsequent creation of the world but do not have a corresponding gētīg counterpart (e.g., Bd 1.53 concerning space). The being of these entities is mēnōg, that is to say, it consists of (celestial) light. The relation between Ohrmazd's mind and the mēnōg (understood as celestial) sphere is not clear in Pahlavi texts. Ohrmazd's conceptions are eo ipso so many mēnōg entities and must have a certain manner of existence. For instance, nēk-rawišnīh which is the “ipseity of creation” (dahišn xwadīh) is described as a mēnōg (Bd 1.34).Footnote 7 Hypostatization of abstract notions was a normal practice of the ancient thought. The gods of the Zoroastrian pantheon for the most part are hypostatized notions.Footnote 8 Plato, for instance, refines and systematizes the practice in his doctrine of ideal forms.
The author of the Bundahišn is aware that if Ohrmazd is a creator, he is ipso facto an existent in the normal sense and must be conceivable as such. In other words, the conditions of the existence of Ohrmazd as a distinct being must be coeval with Ohrmazd. According to the Pahlavi author (Bd 1.2) these are Ohrmazd's time (zamān ī akanārag) and place (asar-rōšnīh) and the qualities of omniscience (harwisp-āgāhīh) and goodness (wehīh). The two qualities define the ipseity of OhrmazdFootnote 9, his differentia vis-à-vis Ahriman. Finally, the xwadīh of Ohrmazd is rōšnīh “light”, in opposition to the xwadīh of Ahriman, which is tārīgīh “darkness”. The usual translation of xwadīh as “essence” is somewhat misleading, since it evokes immateriality (in opposition to existence) because of its Christian theological heritage. Clearly, if the xwadīh of the god is light, understood as a visible element susceptible to receiving form (e.g., kirb ī dāmān), it cannot utterly lack substantiality (see below). This is why it is better in my view to leave the term untranslated or translate it with ipseity. To these defining distinctions is added the spatial separateness of the god from his adversary. There is an empty space between the two (Bd 1.5 u-šān mayān tuhīgīh). On the other hand, qualities such as xwadāyīh (sovereignty) or frazānagīh (wisdom) require an object over which they are exercised, and thus only accrue to Ohrmazd after the creation of the world (Bd 1.33).Footnote 10 The author methodically proceeds through the premises of creation—at least, this seems to be his intention. First are those qualities that pertain to time. From his own “limitless time” (zamān ī akanārag) Ohrmazd fashions the zamān ī kanāragōmand “limited time”, which is more meaningfully designated as zamān ī dagrand-xwadāy (Bd 1.38). This term is generally translated as the “time of long dominion”. While this translation is not wrong, it obscures what the Pahlavi phrase means to convey, namely that the limited time has its own laws. Time sets in motion Ohrmazd's creation and thus causes its propagation (dām ǰud pad zamān rawāgīh nē bawēd), and ineluctably occasions the spread of Ahriman's creatures, too (ka zamān brēhēnīd dām-iz ī ahreman rawāg be bawēd) (Bd 1.35; cf. WZ 1.28Footnote 11). From the “limited time” Ohrmazd “creates” the time-relations or temporal determinations of the (future) world. The passage of time implies the transience of whatever is subject to it. Against this logical implication, the Bundahišn author maintains that subjection to time as it concerns Ohrmazd's creation does not imply transience, inconstancy, and ephemerality (Bd 1.38). On the other hand, time will prove fatal for Ahriman's creation: Bd 1.36 u-š ačāragīhā petyārag agār kardan rāy zamān frāz brēhēnīd “having no other option, [Ohrmazd] created time in order to incapacitate the Adversary”. The antecedence of time with respect to the temporal determinations of the world is expressed by the phrase az zamān ī dagrand-xwadāy asazišnīh frāz dād “from the long autonomous time [Ohrmazd] created [the principle of] intransience [i.e., of his creation]”. How does one explain the paradox of deriving (or generating) permanence from temporal flux? Ohrmazd “fashions” the measurable time out of necessity (ačāragīhā). Does this mean that its value is limited to its function in suppressing Ahriman? Had time not been necessary for this task, Ohrmazd would not have created it? At the same time, the author is aware that without time, there would be no motion, and without motion, there would be no propagation of Ohrmazd's creation, whose very xwadīh is to flourish. In other words, without time the world would remain sterile. Zādspram explicitly articulates this point (WZ 1.27). In effect, time is supposed to reserve its positive aspects for Ohrmazd's creation, and its destructive aspects for Ahriman's (see below).
The process of creation in general is presented as a series of (hypostatized) concepts or elements each of which is derived from the preceding one. This rational narrative order, as we may call it, is taken from Greek philosophy. I come back to this point below. After measurable time Ohrmazd fashions the world in “(visible) form” (kirb ī dāmān ī xwēš) from his own ipseity (ān ī xwēš xwadīh), which is described as the “being of light” (stī ī rōšnīh), along with the “form of good space” (kirb ī way ī weh) presumably as the requisite container (Bd 1.53). The creation of the Amahraspandān and other deities (Bd 1.52) follows the creation of space (way ī dagrand-xwadāy “the long autonomous space”).Footnote 12 The mēnōg stage of creation of the Bundahišn account does not have a comparable counterpart in the extant Avesta.Footnote 13 It was probably elaborated by the philosophically minded Pahlavi theologian. The construction indicates the author's appreciation of the requirements of a philosophical account, while it obviously tries to accommodate Zoroastrian dogmas.Footnote 14 Just as he is mindful to specify that the limited time is “fashioned from” the limitless time, so he is careful to state that after twelve thousand years the limited time “merges and turns into” (gumēzēd ud wardēd) eternity, which means that Ohrmazd's creatures, too, become eternal (kū dām-iz ī ohrmazd abēzagīhā abāg ohrmazd hamēīg bawēnd) (Bd 1.41).Footnote 15 The eschatological dogma is presented in terms of the relation between eternity and time flux. Note that eternity in this perspective does not mean the absence of motion and change but the elimination of decay and death. Another example is the treatment of the dēn, which according to Zoroastrian dogma derives from Ohrmazd's nature. This is reflected in Bd 1.2 where the dēn is duly equated with Ohrmazd's omniscience and goodness.Footnote 16 Sometimes, however, dogma gets the better of the author's judgment. The list given in Bd 1.52 of twenty gods and mēnōg beings created by Ohrmazd includes the name of Ohrmazd in the seventh place in accordance with his role as the rad of human beings. Another apparent absurdity is the measurement of time (at Bd 1.13) before the creation of (measurable) time—unless one assumes that this creation takes place (three thousand years) before the first confrontation with Ahriman. The narrative, however, places Ohrmazd's institution of time (Bd 1.36) after that confrontation and the subsequent agreement between the two antagonists to limit their struggle to nine thousand years (Bd 1.25; cf. Bd 5b.14). This is also the narrative order in WZ 1.2-12. Zādspram, too, applies time measurement retrospectively. Particularly troublesome is the dogma of the static world prior to Ahriman's assault (Bd 4.23), which is upheld in the face of the recognition that time inherently implies motion and change.
WZ 1.26 sē hazār sāl dām tanōmand ud afrāzraftār būd xwaršēd māh <ud> starān ēstēd hēnd andar ō bālist awazišnīg
For three thousand years the creation was corporeal and static. The sun, the moon, and the stars stood motionless at the zenith.
The author of the Bundahišn appreciates and spells out the connection between time and rawāgīh “propagation” (Bd 1.35-36); and, if we translate nēk-rawišnīh as I have suggested, namely something like flourishingFootnote 17, the author makes Ohrmazd's xwadīh the ground of the flourishing and propagation of his creatures (Bd 1.34). Not only change (e.g., growth) seems to be positively evaluated but also its connection with the institution of time is recognized. Zādspram projects this recognition onto Ohrmazd who (belatedly!) realizes the sterility of a motionless world.
WZ 1.27 pad zamānag sar ohrmazd nigerīd kū čē sūd ast {ī} az dādan ī dām ka apōišnīg arawišnīg awazišnīg u-š pad ayārīh ī spihr ud zurwān dām frāz brēhēnīd
Once the period [of three thousand years] ended, Ohrmazd reflected: “what benefit is there in creating a world that is static, motionless, and stationary?” And he fashioned the world [in motion] with the assistance of space and time.
The negative aspect of the passage of time, decay and annihilation, is neutralized eschatologically with the help of the Platonizing (mēnōg) forms. The mēnōg ī abē-wardišnīh ensures that Ohrmazd's creation qua archetype does not change (Bd 1.38 nē wardēd), that it is preserved in its original perfection. Conceptual strategies such as this indicate the ambivalence of the Pahlavi authors concerning time and the difficulties that the issue posed for them. Nothing displays the quandary and the concomitant anxiety better than the Bundahišn author's derivation of asazišnīh as a time-relation the creation of Ohrmazd from zamān ī dagrand-xwadāy, that is to say, the derivation of “intransience” from temporal flux itself. The world is simultaneously subject and not subject to time. One can see that some kind of Platonizing accommodation becomes unavoidable. The dogma of the static nature of the original creation is reflected in the Avesta (Yt 13.53-58), even if the setting in motion of the world is credited to the frauuaṣ̌is as a countermeasure to the assault by aŋra mainiiu. It is understandable that a perfect god cannot but create a perfect world and, therefore, any change in it can only be adventitious and detrimental. Within such a frame, time is bound to pose a formidable axiological problem.
The schedule of the creation of the six gētīg phenomena follows the schema we find in the Avesta.
Bd 1a.4 u-š nazdist asmān dād pad abāz-dārišnīh ast kē fradom gōwēd dudīgar āb dād pad zadan ī tišn druz sidīgar zamīg dād harwisp astōmandīh čahārom urwar dād ō ayārīh ī gōspand ī hudāg panǰom [ō] gōspand <ō> ayārīh ī mard ī ahlāw šašom mard ī ahlaw dād ō zadārīh ud agārīh ī gannāg-mēnōg ud hāmist dēwān
In the first place [Ohrmazd] created the sky for the purpose of holding off [Ahriman] – some say (it was) firstFootnote 18; second, he created the water for the purpose of smiting the demon of thirst; third, he created the earth (for supporting) the whole corporeal world; fourth, he created the plant for assisting the generous beneficent animal; fifth, [he created] the beneficent animal for assisting the righteous man; sixth, he created the righteous man for the purpose of smiting and incapacitating Ahriman and all the demons.
Bd 1a.5 u-š pas ātaxš dād xwarg u-š brāh az asar-rōšnīh awiš paywast ēdōn kirb ī weh čiyōn ātaxš kāmag ud aziš pas wād brēhēnīd pad mard kirb ī gušn ī pānzdah sālag kē ēn ā bud urwar ud gōspand ud mard ī ahlaw ud harw tis-ēw bared ud dārēd
Then, [Ohrmazd] created the fire ember and joined to it the radiance of the endless light. For this reason the desire of good creatures is like the desire of fire. And from fire he created the air in the form of a fifteen-year old man that he may support and carry the water, the beneficent animal, the righteous man and all things.
Fire has a special status in the (gētīg) world. It is strictly speaking not a gētīg creation but is derived qua light directly from the divine asar-rōšnīh; it pervades the world and vivifies the entire good creation: Bd 3.10 u-š ātaxš andar harwisp dahišn… be pargand “[Ohrmazd] spread fire throughout the entire creation”.Footnote 19 This is the reason why every “good creature” like fire desires to join the celestial asar-rōšnīh. The standard account of creation counts six gētīg creations, not seven, and hence six stages (and correspondingly six celestial levels).Footnote 20 In the brief presentation of the doctrine at B 1a.4-5 fire is set apart from the six “creations” stricto sensu: whereas these are enumerated (B 1a.4 nazdist, dudīgar, etc.), the place of fire in the process of creation is marked by the adverb pas “then”. What is decisive is the nature of fire, whose brāh “radiance” is “joined to it from the endless light, the place of Ohrmazd” (BD 3.9 az asar-rōšn gāh ī ohrmazd awiš paywast). The purr-rawišnīh “proliferation” of the good creation depends on fire.Footnote 21 This special status is, of course, already present in the Avesta (see below). The process that culminates in the creation of the human archetype is underwritten by the teleological perspective of the doctrine of creation. The gētīg world becomes capable of fulfilling its function of defeating Ahriman with the creation of the (righteous) human being.Footnote 22 In the Bundahišn the sequence of creations is mapped onto the annual gāhānbār schedule, counting six festivals: Bd 1a.18 u-š ēn šaš dahišn pad šaš gāh ī gāhānbār be dād “[Ohrmazd] created these six creations in the time-frames marked out by the six gāhānbār”. This correspondence is in all likelihood a happy coincidence, since the six annual festivals are related to seasonal pastoral or agricultural activities. The list of the original creations must ultimately be based on pragmatic observation and generalization in categories. What are important or imposing in the daily life of a pastoralist become the products of Ahura Mazdā's creative activity.Footnote 23
Zādspram's account of creation in the mēnōg state is straightforward. Once Ahriman becomes aware of Ohrmazd and the realm of light, he attempts to reach it and to have power over it in the same way he rules the realm of darkness.
WZ 1.4 ka frāz ō wimand mad ohrmazd abāz dāštan ī ahreman az xwēš šahr rāy frāz ō ham-rānīh mad u-š pad abēzag gōwišn <ī> yazdīg stardag kard u-š abāz ō tam abgand pāsbānīh az druz rāy mēnōgīhā andar ō bālist mēnōg <ī> asmān āb zamīg urwar gōspand mardōm ud ātaxš brēhēnīd u-š sē hazār sāl dāšt
When Ahriman approached the borders, Ohrmazd came forth for battle in order to prevent Ahriman from [entering into] his realm, and by a pure, divine speech stupefied him and threw him back into the dark [realm]. For the purpose of safeguarding [his realm] from Druz [= Ahriman], Ohrmazd formed on high in the mēnōg state the mēnōg [archetype] of the sky, of the water, of the earth, of the plant, of the beneficent animal, of the human being, and of the fire, and kept [them in that state] for three thousand years.
Each of the constituents of the world has a mēnōg model. Zādspram does not mention any mēnōg being other than those that will subsequently be transposed into the gētīg state.Footnote 24 Zādspram's list of twelve creations given at ZW 34.20 is probably due to the astrological significance of the number and is otherwise ad hoc: 1) asmān; 2) zamīg; 3) xwaršēd; 4) māh; 5) star; 6) urwarān; 7) ātaxš (andar urwar); 8) hōšag; 9) zahag (andar mādagān); 10) murwān; 11) āb; 12) abr. Perhaps it intends to include andarwāyīg “atmospheric” phenomena such as clouds and birds. Why has livestock given its place to agricultural produce? The chaotic nature of the list is curious. Why not supplement the seven daxšagān (e.g., WZ 1.4) with wād (e.g., WZ 3.10-11) and the four Avestan celestial spheres (star, māh, xwaršēd, asar-rōšnīh)?
The Young Avestan scheme of creation
Let us briefly look at the Avestan background of the doctrine. In Yt 13.2-11 Ahura Mazdā lists the phenomena that he maintains with the help of the frauuaṣ̌is.Footnote 25
Yt 13.2 vīδāraēm zaraϑuštra aom asmanəm yō usca raoxšnō frādərəsrō… aiiaŋhō kəhrpa xvaēnahe; 13.4 vīδāraēm zaraϑuštra arəduuīm sūrąm anāhitąm; 13.9 vīδāraēm zaraϑuštra ząm pərəϑβīm ahuraδātąm… yā vīspəm ahūm astuuaṇtəm baraiti; 13.10 yeŋ́hā̊ paiti θraotō.stācō āpō tacaiṇti nāuuaiiå yeŋ́hā̊ paiti pouru.sarəδā̊ zəmāδa uzuxšiieiṇti uruuarā̊ ϑrāϑrāi pasuuā̊ vīraiiā̊… ϑrāϑrāi gə̄uš paṇcō.hiiaiiå auuaŋ́he narąm aṣ̌aonąm; 13.11 vīδāraēm zaraϑuštra azəm barəϑrišuua puϑrə̄ paiti.vərətə̄ (The paragraphs are not cited in full.)
I maintain, Zarathuštra, that sky above, luminous and resplendent… with the body of scintillating metal; 13.4 I maintain, Zarathuštra, the [celestial water] Arduuī Surā AnāhitāFootnote 26; 13.9 I maintain, Zarathuštra, the wide, Ahura-created earth… that bears all the corporeal existence; 13.10 where waters run in navigable rivers, where all species of plants grow from the soil for supporting domestic animals and men… for supporting the five kinds of animals, for aiding righteous men; 13.11 I maintain, Zarathuštra, sons enveloped in wombs.
If we use vīδāraiia- “maintain” as marker for distinguishing the categories of phenomena in the passage Yt 13.2-11, we get sky, [celestial] water, earth, and human beings, in that order; with the earth carrying the entire corporeal existence: terrestrial waters, plants, animals and (righteous) men, in that order (cf. Bd 1a.2 az āb zamīg ud harwisp astōmandīh gētīg frāz brēhēnīd). In Y 13.22 the list comprises asman- “sky”, āp- “water”, zam- “earth”, gao- “cow”, puϑra- “son” – while the plant is missing. Yt 13.28 has the canonical six gētīg creations (in the same order as e.g., Bd 1a.4 or WZ 1.25, except for the order of plant and cow): yat̰ spəṇtō mainiiuš vīδāraiiat̰ asmanəm yat̰ āpəm yat̰ ząm yat̰ gąm yat̰ uruuarąm yat barəθrišuua puϑrə̄ vīδāraiiat̰ paiti.vərətə̄. The hexad are also listed in the same sequence as in the (Pahlavi) standard doctrine in Yt 13.86 where their frauuaṣ̌is receive sacrifice.Footnote 27 The list must be more or less canonical at the composition of Yašt 13. Interestingly, the order of Yt 13.28 is followed in Y 19.2 (repeated in Y 19.4), while Y 19.8 presents the items in the order of Yt 13.86 (sky, water, earth, plant, cow, gaiia- marətan-).Footnote 28 In all three Y 19 lists the theme is Mazdā's recitation of the ahuna- vairiia- prayer before creating the world. Although there are variations in the extra items included in these lists, their comparison shows that in view of the composer creation comprises six basic phenomena.Footnote 29
Y 19.2 para asməm para āpəm para ząm para gąm para uruuarąm para ātrəm ahurahe mazdā̊ puϑrəm para narəm aṣ̌uuanəm para daēuuāišca xrafstrāiš maṣ̌iiāišca.
Before the sky, before the water, before the earth, before the cow, before the plant, before the fire, son of Ahura Mazda, before the righteous man, before the vicious daēuuas and men.
The last item does not belong here (after all, the daēuuas are not created by Mazdā). I do not speculate about the circumstances of its ending up in the list of creations. Kellens interprets it as a quotation of Y 34.5c’ in order to remove the grammatical discrepancy.Footnote 30 But this does not resolve the problem of its inclusion in the list. Ritual fire is not of the same order as the other items but is Mazdā's son (cf. PRDd 18.d1). Just as Mazdā becomes assimilated to (celestial) light, so ritual fire which is “from” the luminous heavens becomes his progeny.Footnote 31 Otherwise the items and their order are identical with the Yt 13.28 list. Y 19.4 adds to the 19.2 list two more items: para vīspəm ahūm astuuaṇtəm para vīspa vohu mazdaδāta aṣ̌aciϑra “before (creating) all the corporeal existence, before (creating) all the good things created by Mazdā that have the brilliant form of Aṣ̌a”. They are obviously comprehensive designations, but it is hard to know to what sets of phenomena they refer—perhaps, respectively, terrestrial and celestial phenomena. The list of creations in Yt 13.86 and Y 19.8 matches the standard schedule of creation in Zoroastrian Pahlavi texts.Footnote 32
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Y 19.8 fraca aētat̰ vacō vaoce yat̰ ahumat̰ yat̰ ratumat̰
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para auuaŋ́he ašnō dā̊ŋ́hōit̰ para āpō para zəmō para uruuaraiiā̊
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para gə̄uš caϑβarə.paitištānaiiå dā̊ŋ́hōit̰
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para narš aṣ̌aonō bipaitištānahe ząϑāt̰
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para auuaŋ́he hū ϑβarštō kəhrpiia
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ape aməṣ̌anąm spəṇtanąm dāhīm
Thus the text that contains ahu and ratu was recited before the creation of the sky there, before [the creation] of the water, before [the creation] of the earth, before [the creation] of the plant, before the creation of the quadruped cow, before the engenderment of the biped righteous man, before the fashioning of the sun in corporeal form, [but] after the creation of the Life-giving Immortals.
This text was probably one of the exegetical references of the standard doctrine of creation. As opposed to Yt 13.4, the water seems to be terrestrial here.Footnote 33 The mention of the Life-giving Immortals in the context is significant in the perspective of the later doctrine of creation (cf. Bd 1.52). The generation of the gods and the creation of the world take place, respectively, before and after the recitation of the ahuna- vairiia-. Could this constellation have been interpreted as the assignment of each of the latter group to one of the former in the doctrine of daxšagān? What to make of the “fashioning” of the sun “in visible form” after the standard hexad (cf. Vd 11.1)? Is its place in the list significant? In the Bundahišn, the formation of the celestial luminaries (rōšnān) follows the creation of the hexad.Footnote 34
The impact of Greek natural philosophy on the Pahlavi doctrine of creation
A detailed account of creation is given in the Bundahišn chapter called abar dām-dahišnīh ī gētīgīhā (“on the creation of the world in the gētīg state”), paragraphs 1a.6 to 1a.17. I only cite the relevant texts.
Bd 1a.7 nazdist asmān dād rōšn ud paydāg ud abēr-dūr xāyag-dēs xwēn-āhan ī ast gōhr ī almāst ī nar u-š sar pad ō asar-rōšn paywast u-š dām hamāg andarōn ī asmān be dād… 1a.8 dudīgar az gōhr ī asmān āb brēhēnīd… 1a.9 sidīgar az āb zamīg dād gird ud dūr-widarag ud abē-nišēb… ud rāst mayān ī ēn asmān be winnārd… 1a.12 azēr ī ēn zamīg hamāg gyāg āb be ēstēd 1a.13 čahārom urwar dād… 1a.14 panǰom gāw ī ēk-dād brēhēnīd andar Ērān-wēz pad mayānag ī gēhān… 1a.15 šašom gayōmart brēhēnīd… 1a.17 u-š gayōmard abāg gāw az zamīg brēhēnīd
First [Ohrmazd] created the sky, bright, manifest, and very far in the shape of an egg [made] of shinning metal which is the substance of steel [or diamond], and he joined its borders to the [sphere of] endless light, and placed all the creatures inside the sky… Second he fashioned the waters from the substance of the sky… Third, he created the earth, circular, far-reaching, and flat, from the water… and placed it exactly in the middle of this sky… Under this earth in all places stands water. Fourth, he created the plant… Fifth, he fashioned the uniquely created cow in Ērānwēz, (which is) in the middle of the world, on the shore of Weh Dāitī river, that is, in the middle of the worldFootnote 35… Sixth, he fashioned Gayōmard… He fashioned Gayōmard and the cow from the earth.Footnote 36
Each phenomenon is created from (the substance of) the previous phenomenon. This is the general pattern of creation in the author's mind. It is also evident in Bd 1a.3: čē-š <az> asar-rōšnīh ātaxš az ātaxš wād az wād āb az āb zamīg ud harwisp astōmandīh gētīg frāz brēhēnīd “for [Ohrmazd] created the fire from the endless light, from the fire the air, from the air the water, from the water the earth and the entire corporeality”. In Bd 1a.7 the process starts with asmān “sky” (literally “stone”), which is the first creation in the standard doctrine. The author connects it topographically (and through its description as “shining”) with the “endless light”. The notice of topographic contiguity may be meant to point to the original substance of the creation process. In PRDd 46.3 Ohrmazd makes the whole world from asar-rōšnīh. In Bd 1a.3 the series of demiurgic acts starts with creating fire from asar-rōšnīh which apparently exists already (see below). The whole world is created in stages from one uncreated substance. In these texts the process of creation is foregrounded—as opposed to its raison d’être. In the case of Bd 1a.3, not only its scheme but also its elements are adopted from the Greek natural philosophy, which typically develops the cosmos from a principle (archē).Footnote 37 The abbreviation in Bd 1a.3 of the plants, animals, and humans to “entire corporeality” may be motivated by the desire to stay close to the Greek model, although the expression has an Avestan background (e.g., Yt 13.9).Footnote 38 Bd 1a.17 u-š gayōmard abāg gāw az zamīg brēhēnīd must be understood along the same lines, and not as a Biblical reflection, which may be the case in PRDd 46.36. That within the Zoroastrian frame the process of creation had to start with asar-rōšnīh was evident to the Pahlavi author, since it is not only uncreated but also the highest substance.Footnote 39 In the latter respect it matches the status of aithēr in a number of Greek cosmologies, a luminous substance which is least corporeal and which constitutes the outermost layer of the heavens. In Anaxagoras aithēr and aēr (air) appear to be the first elements “separating” from the mixture of spérmata “seeds” and forming the outermost spheres. For Heraclitus aithēr was consubstantial with fire, and fire was the primary substance of the cosmos.Footnote 40 It is not necessary to show in detail that one particular philosophical conception is the model for the author of Bd 1a.3, which would be a hopeless task anyway in view of what may be reasonably assumed about our author's knowledge of specific physical theories. It is rather a matter of the author's view of what an explanation of the formation of the world must include. The peri phuseōs frame, i.e., derivation of the cosmos from a primary substanceFootnote 41, and the replacement of asmān in Bd 1a.3 with asar-rōšnīh and (thence) ātaxš “fire” and wād “air” clearly show the impact of the Greek philosophical tradition. Depending on the context and the author, the Zoroastrian reception of Greek natural philosophy was more or less thorough. In some chapters of the third book of the Dēnkard, one would be hard pressed to find any meaningful trace of the Zoroastrian doctrine of creation.
The typical Presocratic picture of the cosmos places the light and hot fire or ether in the outermost spheres, layers of air and mist (from hotter and dryer to colder and moister) in the middle, and the dense and cold earth in the center. The philosophically minded Pahlavi authors appear to have adopted this hierarchy and organized the standard schedule of creation in accordance with it. The author of the Dēnkard 3, perhaps Āzar-Farnbay Farroxzādān, tries to stay within the standard Zoroastrian doctrine.
D 3.123 ud asmān pēš dād paydāg did āb pad-sazāg ham-dārišnīh ī wād-nērōgīh abar ×čē way mēnōg asmān gōhr did zamīg ud did urwar ud did gōspand ud abdom mardōm u-šān panǰ andarōn asmān <ud asmān> bēdom ī-šān wisp ō hamāg abar <ud> ham-bunīhistan, paydāg āb t <az>išnFootnote 42 wistarišn andar hamāg way ī azēr ī star pāyag ud ēr ud abar <ud> ham pērāmōn zamīg, abar-iz āb-nērōg kardagīh winnardagīh
[Ohrmazd] created the sky before all; this is revealed [in religion]; then [created] the water appropriate for holding the wind power, for the mēnōg of the atmosphere is the substance of the sky; then [created] the earth, then the plant, then the beneficent animal, and finally the human being. These five are inside the sky, and the sky is outermost with respect to them all, and is over all of them, and [these] are all from the same principle; this is revealed [in religion]. The flow of water courses throughout the atmosphere, which is under the star level. And [thus] under and over and also around the earth is arranged thanks to the effective power of water.
This last sentence probably refers, at least in part, to the doctrine that water holds the earth afloat and in the centre (cf. Bd 1a.12; WZ 2.3). The atmosphere enters the schedule of creations from whose mēnōg (light?) the sky is made. It is almost certain that in the passage wād and way are understood to be identical. Between sky and earth are air (wād) and water, or rather mist. The term “principle” in the cryptic phrase ham-bunīhistan “being of the same principle” said of the five creations inside the sky must refer to an original substance, which can only be light. Note the concern with causes, in the event, the material cause, and explaining the cosmological order through material causes, which is the hallmark of Presocratic cosmology. There is no need to labour the point. I mentioned above that the original substance in the process of creation in the Zoroastrian doctrine is light. Light is in an important sense both mēnōg and gētīg.Footnote 43 The world in its mēnōg state is made of the “being of light”, which is itself Ohrmazd's ipseity (Bd 1.43). But rōšnīh in the form of fire is also a part of the gētīg world; it pervades the whole gētīg creation (cf. PRDd 18.d2). In view of the materiality (or substantiality) of light, the curious assertion that Ohrmazd is both mēnōg and gētīg (e.g., Bd 1.52 ohrmazd har(w) dō ast mēnōg nazdist ud gētīg [pas]) becomes understandable. I recall Eudemus's description of the magi's cosmology (reported by Damascius) which assimilates Ohrmazd to light.Footnote 44 In the Gāϑās (Y 30.5) the luminous sky is the garment of Ahura Mazdā, and in the Yasna Haptaŋhāiti (Y 36.6), light (celestial light present in ritual fire) is the body of the god. Ahura Mazdā is manifest qua light. The homogeneity of Ahura Mazdā with light is thus an ancient Zoroastrian doctrine.Footnote 45 The dual nature of light—both mēnōg and gētīg—made it possible for the Pahlavi authors, on the one hand, to render intelligible the notion of transposition of the world from mēnōg to gētīg state, and on the other, to apply the basic explanatory model of the Greek natural philosophy to the process of creation.
The parallel with Plato's account of creation in the Timaeus
Ohrmazd conceives the “form” of the world and then implements that form in gētīg (tangible and/or visible) bodies. The mēnōg world, too, has a “body”, consisting in divine (or celestial) light. The conception of the world prior to its coming to be distinguishes creation myth from cosmogony. This categorial distinction is valid even if the doctrine of creation has a cosmogonic background.Footnote 46 It does not matter if the creator god of the Gāϑās has come about through the suppression of the (heroic) achievements of the gods of pantheon, save the single achievement of ordering the cosmos by a single god.Footnote 47 Ahura Mazdā could have gained his identity through such a process. Plato accommodates Hesiod's gods in the Timaeus, perhaps along with other features of the traditional Greek theogony.Footnote 48 Nonetheless, the Timaeus recounts a creation myth and not a cosmogony. The demiurge creates the cosmos according to a mental representation (i.e., its form), and tries his best to stay as close to this form as possible, that is to say, creates “all that is perfect and best in this world of becoming” (Timaeus 68e). Moreover, the demiurgic action seems to have a purpose—however difficult it may be to articulate this purpose. In earlier works such as the Phaedo (96a-100a, esp. 98c-99d) Plato criticizes his predecessors (the phusikoi) for trying to account for (the emergence of) the cosmos by mechanical processes. Cosmic order is not reducible to such processes; rather, one must postulate an intelligent maker. In the Timaeus, Plato calls on his theory of ideal forms to explain the creation of the cosmos. The divine craftsman selects the best formal paradeigma, namely that of a living intelligent being, and creates the best possible product, because he himself is absolutely good (Timaeus 29d-e, 30c-31b; cf. Republic 379bc). The demiurge is the fundamental cause (aition) of the cosmos. But this still does not quite explain why the demiurge creates the cosmos at all. Now, the Timaeus has an answer to the question: why create at all? The demiurge creates because he wants to give form to an otherwise disorderly elemental substrate.
Not only were they [i.e., the four elements] disproportionate and erratic, however, before that event, but even when the organization of the universe was first taken in hand, fire, water, earth, and air, despite displaying certain hints [or traces: ichnē] of their true natures, were still wholly in the kind of state you'd expect anything to be with no god present. Finding them in that condition, then, the first thing the god did, when he came to organize the universe, was use shapes and numbers to assign them definite forms; and we can take for granted, as the principal axiom affirmed by us, that the god did not leave them in the condition he found them, but made them as beautiful and as perfect as they could possibly be.Footnote 49
The god creates according to his nature; in other words, he creates only good things.Footnote 50 But if there was no chaotic elemental state to begin with, would have there been a “demiurge” and a cosmos “as beautiful and as perfect as they could possibly be”? The answer has to be in the negative, since the absolutely beautiful and perfect intelligible world is more in accord with the god's nature than what is (only) “as beautiful and as perfect as [it] could possibly be”. In the latter case, the “wandering [i.e., non-purposive] cause” (48a), which is not determined by the considerations of what is good, has to be accommodated.Footnote 51 Why does the would-be demiurge create? Because there is disorderFootnote 52 to be eliminated and divine order to be established. The demiurge “wanted everything to be as similar to himself as possible… there is no more important precondition for the created world than this… He found everything visible in a state of turmoil, moving in a discordant and chaotic manner, so he led it from chaos to order, which he regarded as in all ways better” (29e-30a). This circumstance explains in Timaeus's account why there is creation at all.Footnote 53
In Zoroastrian Pahlavi texts Ohrmazd creates the world as his abzār “instrument” for his struggle against Ahriman (e.g., Bd 1.12). In the suppression of the latter Ohrmazd's creation has its purpose. Zoroastrianism thus answers the most fundamental question of theology (why create at all?). Monotheistic theologies are unable to answer this question. No mundane thing is insignificant in the perspective of the purpose of creation in Zoroastrianism. The thorough-going ritualization of existence is understandable in this worldview. Note the parallel between the Platonic and Zoroastrian answers in one important respect. Both start from two contrary principles. The Platonic “wandering cause” is essentially characterized by its inertia, however, whereas the Zoroastrian hostile principle is an agent and maker in his own right. The Zoroastrian doctrine of purposive creation thus dichotomizes the world into antagonistic sides (cf. WZ 2.17). History of the world from the beginning to the end is a theater of war. The theme of purpose of creation is not found in the (extant) Avesta. The ideological ground of cosmic dualism in the Gāϑās is strictly eschatological. I interpret Y 30.4-5 in particular in this perspective. The question whether it was this eschatological orientation that intensified the inherited (i.e., Indo-Iranian) ritual system in the direction of ritualization of existence may have an arguable answer, but it is not my concern here. In any case, Zoroastrian ritualism is utterly permeated by cosmic antagonism. The idea of articulating explicitly the purpose of creation could well have been occasioned by the Young Avestan accounts of creation in Yt 13.53-58 and Y 19.Footnote 54 The Gāthic background of the latter is evident. Every positively evaluated act contributes to the defeat of the evil adversary. Moreover, the real significance of every action is determined by how it relates to the cosmic adversary: opponent or proponent. In principle, the semantic binary code covers all possible occasions of human life. In my view, the idea of a purpose of creation is implicit in the Zoroastrian subjection of existence to a comprehensive binary code, and may be understood as a projection of the resultant semantics into the doctrine of creation. In this way, the Zoroastrian doctrine of purposive creation places the ultimate imprimatur on the regimentation and indeed instrumentalization of life. Does not the doctrine, strictly understood, contradict Zoroastrian eschatology, since in the perspective of the doctrine humans along with other creatures owe their existence to their function in the struggle against their creator's cosmic adversary? Whence the pretention to immortality? Once the purpose is served the instrument may be discarded. Nonetheless, the achievement of the goal turns out to be the liberation of the entire creation from its subjection to time (cf. Bd 1.41). The quandary may be resolvable. On the one hand, already in the Gāϑās eternal bliss is strictly the reward of taking sides against the druj in all its manifestations, however one may care to interpret the arena of this partisanship. Eschatology subtends cosmic antagonism. The expectation of eschatological reward based on lifelong performance explicitly refers to the creator god's will (cf. Y 51.6). This constellation can accommodate the possibly contradictory consequence of purposive creation as this concerns the mortal's aspiration for eternal life. On the other hand, there is in the doctrine of creation the notion of the divine substance of the world as the countervailing force against its instrumentalization. The world is created in the final instance of the being of light (stī ī rōšnīh).Footnote 55 It is likely that the reception of Greek philosophy created the context and motivation for the specification of the original element (i.e., archē) of the world. In any event, it is an arguable point that the world owing to its original divine substance, namely light, must be eternal. In the same vein, the post-ēbgat “final bodies” (tan ī pasēn) are luminous (Bd 34.8; WZ 35.50-51, 59-60) and hence incorruptible (Bd 1.41 abēzagīhā “in pure state”).Footnote 56 It may be suggested that the divine substance of the world overrides its status as simply an instrument of the suppression of the hostile principle. The characteristic connection of the eschaton with luminosity can be understood in this perspective: the restoration of the world to its divine substance.Footnote 57 The hamēīh “eternity” of the tan ī pasēn means the release of humans from decay and death; and this condition in turn is nothing other than regaining the (original) luminous bodies.
Conclusion
The basic meaning of the term mēnōg in Pahlavi accounts of creation is “mental” (state). Ohrmazd first conceives the form or model of the world—hence the priority of the mēnōg state of the world. The Avestan lineage of mēnōg (mainiiauua- “celestial”) allows Pahlavi authors to envisage this world-qua-idea as having a celestial existence, whose substance or matter consists of light. The notion of the “mental” origin of the world, perhaps even in its celestial valence, goes back to the Gāϑās (e.g., Y 31.7). The Pahlavi expression pad mēnōgīh dāštan “holding in the mēnōg state” describes both aspects of the creator's relation to the world as representation. I argued that the standard schedule of creation in Zoroastrian Pahlavi texts is adopted from the (Young) Avesta and conceptually elaborated and rationalized in accordance with Greek natural philosophy. In a number of passages this debt is abundantly clear. In particular, the presentation of the process of creation as a sequence whereby each (Empedoclean) element is created from the antecedent one (e.g., Bd 1a2) and the specification of the original substance of creation (whether “endless light” or “a drop of water”) are typically Greek.
The comparison of the Zoroastrian doctrine with Plato's myth of creation in the Timaeus allowed us to bring out two important issues. First, no creation doctrine is complete without answering the question: “why create at all?” Among the doctrines of creation I mentioned at the beginning of this article, the Zoroastrian and Timaeus's accounts articulate the final cause of creation. They explain the existence of the world through causality, then, in the most comprehensive sense of this phrase, namely through the causality of an intelligent agent. I argued that such a systematic doctrine of creation is necessarily framed by a cosmic dualism, whether that of two antagonistic agents or that of two thoroughly different categories of being. Second, I pointed out the discrepancy in the Zoroastrian doctrine between the apparently instrumental origin of the world—created for the specific purpose of defeating the Adversary—and its eschatological apotheosis. I suggested that it may be possible to resolve this contradiction by appealing to the original substance of creation, namely the divine substance of light.
Appendix
Bundahišn 3.26 has been used by some scholars as evidence for the existence in Zoroastrianism of a cosmogonic sacrifice. According to the proponents of the thesis, this Zoroastrian doctrine has an Indo-European lineage. As for the postulated Indo-European ancestor, it must make do with forcible assimilation of disparate myths. In a few publications I have given my reasons for this judgment in reference to the specific myths (Vedic Puruṣa, Norse Ymir, etc.) that have been invoked in the literature.
I have argued that what has been made of Bundahišn 3.26 by students of Zoroastrianism, namely that Ohrmazd creates the world in the course of a sacrifice, is problematic because it contradicts the account of creation given in Chapter 1A (abar dām-dahišnīh ī gētīgīhā).Footnote 58 The proponents of the thesis must deny that it creates discrepancies in the Bundahišn account of creation.Footnote 59 They might argue that the (supposed) second account of creation (at Bd 3.26) does not undermine the narrative order but only describes the process of creation under a different aspect, that is to say, describes it in the perspective of the anticipated assault of Ahriman (ēbgat). Hence, according to this interpretation, Chapter 3 can and must be placed in the same chronological slot as Chapter 1 (before Chapter 1A). In my view, this attempt to reconcile the thesis with the narrative order does not really work. First, the supposed creation of the gētīg world in the course of a “noon sacrifice” (Bd 3.26) flatly contradicts the gāhānbār schedule of creation (Bd 1a.18-25). There is no way around this. Second, what to make of the fact that in Chapter 1A where the apparently doctrinal account of creation is given we do not find the slightest allusion to the putative context (i.e., sacrifice) of creation? This is a formidable problem both for the narrative coherence and for the thesis that there is a myth of cosmogonic sacrifice in Zoroastrianism. Third, while in Chapter 1A (Bd 1a.7-25) the account of creation is about gētīg archetypes, i.e., asmān, gayōmard, gāw ī ēk-dād, in Chapter 3 the creations apparently belong to the post-ēbgat world, i.e., ayōxšust (cf. Bd 14.2), mardōmān (cf. Bd 1a.15-16, Bd 14.5), gōspand sardagān. The question put to the frawahr ī mardōmān at Bd 3.26, namely whether they are willing to fight in incarnate form with Druz, makes sense only for the post-ēbgat world, i.e., after Ahriman has attacked and destroyed the gētīg archetypes, and not three thousand year earlier when Gayōmard alone was created. I do not think appealing to different aspects resolves this inconsistency. If creation of the world with many plants, many animals, and many humans is what Ohrmazd contemplates ab initio as the “needful instrument” of defeating Ahriman, why does he create a single plant, a single cow, and a single man in the first instance? If the dynamic, thriving world is the “needful instrument” for defeating Ahriman, why does Ohrmazd create the static world in the first instance? This shows, again, that Chapters 1A and 3 must be placed in different stages of narrative development, and that the argument based on different aspects cannot on its own preserve the narrative coherence. There are good grounds, then, to be wary of interpreting Bd 3.26 in the light the thesis of cosmogonic sacrifice. One could hardly affirm the narrative order of the Bundahišn account of creation in the face of the problematic consequences of that interpretation. Such an affirmation would be an empty gesture which in effect leaves the notion of narrative coherence without actual content and applicability. A famous philosopher mentions the story of a man who goes to a store to buy fruit. He is offered apples and pears, oranges and bananas, but he rejects what is offered to him. He only wants fruit.
Another problem with the thesis of “cosmogonic sacrifice” is that its proponents do not explain what exactly they actually mean by sacrifice. Do they mean a version of Lincoln's myth of the sacrifice of Gayōmard? Or do they have in mind one of the known Zoroastrian services? In the former case, they have to explain why absolutely no indication to that effect is found in Bd 3.26 or indeed in any other Pahlavi text. In the latter case, they need to show in reference to the content of whatever service they have in mind how it can accommodate the standard schedule of creation of Chapter 1A. This, in my view, is not feasible.
Let us now examine the actual text (from Bd 3.26). There are in fact two different versions of the passage in question. In the Iranian manuscripts we read: ohrmazd abāg amahraspandān pad rapihwin mēnōg ī yazišn frāz sāxt andar yazišn kunišn dām hamāg be dād. In the Indian manuscripts, however, we have a totally different phrase: ohrmazd abāg amahraspandān pad rapihwin mēnōg ī yazišn frāz sāxt u-š andar yazišn harw abzār pad ōzadan ī petyārag abāyist be dād.Footnote 60 The boldface indicates the competing phrases. What may be the criteria for choosing between the two (e.g., as the original)? Is it possible to explain the existence of two rival versions? In an article I tried to show that the Indian version fits the narrative order, whereas the Iranian version (in the meaning ascribed to it in the literature) does not. Now I would like to argue that the reading that is generally offered of the phrase andar yazišn kunišn dām hamāg be dād is questionable. In my view, this phrase does not mean (in Agostini's and Thrope's translation) “during the celebration of the worship, [Ohrmazd] created all creation”.Footnote 61 The verb kardan; kun- meaning “do” or “make” or “perform” is frequently used with yazišn in Pahlavi texts. The phrase yazišn kun- generally means to perform a worship service or sacrifice. If one interprets Bd 3.26 yazišn kunišn in this way, thus giving kunišn verbal force governing yazišn as its direct object, then it must be admitted that the preposition andar is out of place. One rather expects pad which is regularly used in Middle Persian with abstract nouns that have a verbal force in the meaning “by means of” or “through”, which at a pinch can mean “during”. MP andar (from Old Persian antar Footnote 62) in the meaning “inside” or “between” is used with nouns that designate circumstances (e.g., tan or dēn) or states (e.g., paymān or abēzagīh or bīm or rōšnīh), and in the meaning “among” it is used with sets of concrete or concretized items. The term governed by andar is always (envisaged as) a circumscribed space, a container. Both etymology and usage militate against its use with abstract nouns with verbal force. It is senseless to say inside or between or among celebrating a sacrifice. In Middle Persian one would say pad “through” celebrating a sacrifice (*pad yazišn kunišn), if this meaning was intended. I very much doubt that andar yazišn kunišn means “during the celebration of the worship”, contra Agostini and Thrope. Translating andar as “during” in the phrase is to fudge it in order to make the passage express what is expected of it.
Let me first give my understanding of the phrase and then try to justify it with examples. The phrase andar yazišn kunišn dām hamāg be dād means: “in the service, [Ohrmazd] set [for] the creation in its entirety its task”, where yazišn designates a concrete circumstance and kunišn is understood as what must done or task. In other words, andar yazišn is an adverbial clause, and kunišn is the object of be dād. For the usage of andar I only give examples that seem to invalidate my position.
D 5.11.3 ōzadan ī mardōm bē ān ī andar kōšišn “killing people other than the killing that happens in battle”. Here the abstract noun kōšišn is concretized and denotes battle.Footnote 63
D 5.4.9 u-šān tuwān kunišn ud pahrēzišn andar kunišnān ud pahrēzišnān “among the things that must be done and the things that must be avoided they must [respectively] do and avoid [as many] as it is in their power”. The term kunišnān circumscribes a set of obligations. Incidentally, note that the necessitative participle kunišn is substantivized here to designate a task.
D 5.7.2 be šnāxtan ī frēftārīh ud wiyābāngarīh ī ahreman ud dēwān čiyōn gumēxtagīh ī-šān bārīkīhā andar weh dahišnān nihuftārīh ī-šān rāh ud ristag ī rāst zūr nimūdārīh ī-šān ast pad nēst rāh-dārīh ī-šān andar axw ud menišn ud gōwišn ud kunišn ī astōmandān ud āsūdagīh ī-šān pad wināhišngārīh “to recognize the deceitful and misleading character of Ahriman and the Dēws: how they cleverly mix [themselves] in the good creations, [how] they conceal the right way and manner, [how] by deception they make what is appear as what is not, [how] they rob humans [lit. incarnate beings] in life [or intention] and thought and speech and action, and [how] they feel content by committing crime”. The terms menišn and gōwišn and kunišn are not gerunds (thinking, speaking, and performing) but are envisaged as fields whose constituents may be taken.
D 5.24.4 ud kō(x)šišn ī pad andar gumēxtan wihān an-ēwēn kēnwarīh ud āzwarīh, etc. “the motivation [of Ahriman] in struggling to mix in [i.e., good creations] is aberrant vengefulness and enviousness”, etc. The implicit object of gumēxtan is weh dahišnān. andar is used as a verbal prefix with verbs that can take complements of place, such as būdan, abgandan, ōftādan, ōbastan, nišastan, māndan, hištan, gumēxtan, ēstādan, šudan. andar abāyistan means “require” or the like. mard-ē kē duxt ī xwēš ayāb xwah ī xwēš pad zanīh andar abāyēd, etc. “the man who requires his daughter or his sister to be his wife”, etc.Footnote 64 Bd 1.53 ka-š way ī dagrand-xwadāy frāz brēhēnīd ōy-iz abzār-ē(w) būd ī-š pad dām-dahišnīh andar abāyist “when [Ohrmazd] fashioned the lasting autonomous space – this, too, was an instrument that he required for creation of the world”. Perhaps andar abāyistan literally means: something is required among (e.g., one's tools).
D 5.24.7 ud pēš az ān zamān bērōn nē kardan čim ēk a-wišōbišnīh ī ham hu-frazām-gārīh kē rāy andar hištan-iz čim “and the reason why [Ohrmazd] does not expel [Ahriman] from [the world] prior to the [appointed] time is, for one, that the accomplishment [of the expulsion of Ahriman] is not disturbed, which is also the reason why [Ohrmazd] allowed [Ahriman] inside [the world in the first place]”.
D 5.24.17 ud barsom ud drōn ud abārīg ī andar paristišn ī yazdān frāz dārīhēd nihang-ē pad nām-barišnīh hangirdīg hēnd ī hamāg gētīg dahišnān ī pad sālārīh ō mardōmān abespārd ēstēnd “Barsom and Drōn and other [ritual implements] which in the worship of the gods are deployed are a limited number of things that represent in a summary form all gētīg creations which have been entrusted to humans as their guardian”. The phrase paristišn ī yazdān denotes a (concrete) rite in (the course of) which one deploys ritual implements.
PRDd 58.19 kayādurbōzīd guft kū xwad āb andar kunišn čē ān-iz sāzišn-ē “Kayādurbōzīd said that of course water should be put in [the bowl] for that too is a [legitimate] preparation”.Footnote 65
PRDd 58.43 u-šān abestāg pēš andar nē kunišn “they should not recite the Avesta further in [the text]”.
WZ 9.5 tā pad ān ī būd pad čē-ēwēnag be ō pēšēnīgān hammōzād ud abar ān ī bawēd čē-ēwēnag kunišn-iz be ō dāmān framāyēd “so that [Zarduxšt] may teach about how things were like for the ancients, and also instruct the creatures in what manner one must act in the future”.
WZ 27.2 dudīgar wizīn-kardārīh ī andarag menišnān gōwišnān kunišnān “the second [characteristic of Āsrōn] is judiciousness concerning thoughts, words, and actions”. The participles are concretized: menišn means “what is thought”, etc.
In view of the usage of andar, one can maintain the meaning “during sacrifice [Ohrmazd] created the world in its entirety” for andar yazišn kunišn dām hamāg be dād only on the condition that yazišn kunišn mean sacrifice or service. In other words, it would convey precisely what yazišn on its own regularly means, i.e., either sacrifice in general or yašt (e.g., Yasna ceremony) in particular. But, then, why the pleonasm? Admittedly, for the reading I suggest one ideally expects andar yazišn kunišn <ō> dām hamāg be dād.Footnote 66 Nonetheless, on balance, I still prefer the latter reading to the former one, even strictly within the bounds of the syntax of the phrase. If one closely examines a good number of passages with andar, one realizes how odd andar yazišn kunišn is; and if the phrase appears trivial, it is because the verb kardan is frequently used with yazišn as its direct object.Footnote 67
The presence of the frawahr in Bd 3.26-27 reminds the reader of Yt 13.53-58 where the frauuaṣ̌is are credited with helping Mazdā to get the hitherto stagnant waters to flow and the plants to proliferate and thrive, and to delineate the right path for the motion of the heavenly bodies, as countermeasures to Aŋra Mainiiu's attack. If the author of the Bundahišn passage did indeed have the Avestan passage in mind, as the theme of the chapter inclines one to suspect, this gives us further indication as to the intended chronology of the Bd 3.26 yazišn within the millenarian scheme: the world is on the verge of being attacked by Ahriman. The mēnōgān have received their tasks in preparation for the coming struggle (Chapter 4: abar dwāristan ī ēbgat ō dām). In Bd 3.26-27 one final category of the mēnōgān accept the task that is given them by Ohrmazd: the frawahr ī mardōmān.
The analysis I have proposed for andar yazišn kunišn dām hamāg be dād tallies with the narrative order and fits the context of the chapter and takes into account the possible Avestan background of the presence of the frawahr in the paragraph. Further, the Iranian and Indian versions turn out to be semantically convergent, both referring to the measures taken against the impending ēbgat, enumerated in the chapter. This makes it likely that one or the other was actually produced on the basis of the understanding of what the chapter is about. Perhaps one of the versions was missing a number of words between andar yazišn and be dād, and the defective nature of the sentence was perceived, and a contextually appropriate phrase was supplied. It is thus possible to explain the existence two different phrases in the two manuscript traditions by relying on their convergent meanings.
