The Ninth Labor – The Girdle of Hippolyte (revised version,
spring 2016)
Like
a number of Hercules’ Labors, the ninth exists in several versions, which we
will have to sort out. The King, Eurystheus, wanted to present the belt or
girdle of the Amazon queen Hippolyte to his daughter, and sent Hercules to
retrieve it. The belt was a gift from the God of War, Ares, and had magic
powers. It held Hippolyte’s sword and javelin and signified her high standing
as a military leader. Plus, the belt projected a magical aura of protection
around her.
The
Amazons were an all female tribe of warriors who hated and distrusted men, so
of course the task was impossible—like all the other Labors. There was no way
for Hercules and his small band of supporters to defeat a whole nation of
dedicated fighters. Hercules knew he couldn’t defeat the Amazons in battle, so
he made friends with the queen, and she gave him the belt as a gift.
It
would be easy to interpret this Labor as a cautionary tale about sexual
relations and trust, but I’d like to go a little deeper than that. The crafters
of the Greek myths had a high purpose, much beyond entertaining their patrons
with a bedroom farce. They intended to intuitively convey spiritual truths.
It
is crucial that Hercules succeeded in obtaining the belt not by force, but by
love. He arrived in amity and was honest with the Queen about his needs. She
responded in kind, and offered to give him the belt as a gift. So love and
trust conquered all.
The
moral is that kindness succeeds where aggression fails. Facing an overwhelming
force, Hercules knew if he opposed it directly he would be defeated. Instead he
embraced his enemies with openness and honesty, and quickly gained what he was
after. That might have been the end of it, but it is all too easy to stir up
trouble in suspicious people. One naysayer can easily fire up a mob, and many
innocent people have lost their lives because of it.
It
seems we learn best through meeting challenges, so the easy road is not very
educational. In Greek myths the gods are ever intervening to confuse the
situation and up the ante. This is highly reminiscent of Nataraja Guru, who
would interfere with his disciple Nitya’s arrangements whenever they promised
to become permanent. In his autobiography Love
and Blessings, Nitya describes one such occasion, and sums up:
This wasn’t the first time Guru
had come into my life like a destroying Shiva to separate his disciple from the
snare of karmic entanglements. Wherever I proved to be successful or was
becoming admired, he had a knack for sabotaging the situation. Once I asked him
why he was doing this, and he told me his name was Natarajan and he was only
doing his duty, adding “If Shiva doesn’t demolish, Brahma won’t get a chance to
create again.” I have to admit that whenever he intervened to get me to
terminate a program it always led to another program of greater spiritual
value. (L&B, 207)
In
this case Hera, who is overseeing Hercules’ development like a pesky guru,
cultivated distrust and suspicion among the Queen’s subjects by spreading false
rumors that Hercules was planning to abduct Hippolyte. Alarmed, the citizens
took up their weapons, mounted their horses, and swarmed down toward the docks.
They had not met Hercules, and could only imagine what was taking place, so
they were predisposed to react in the accustomed way. Societies always have
that weakness, that lies are more palatable than truth if they meet habitual
expectations.
Dr.
Mees describes what happened this way:
Then Hera, the Mother-Goddess,
representing the Power of Karma, who ever put difficulties in the way of him
whose name signifies “renowned through Hera,” went among the Amazons in the
guise of one of them and spread the rumour that Hercules had come to carry off
their Queen. The Power of Karma, forming an aspect of Maya, is clever at
“disguises”…. The Amazons demonstrated lack of patience and tolerance, and
fickleness, for they immediately mounted their horses and attacked Hercules and
his companions.” (Revelation in the
Wilderness, III, 194)
Hera’s interference introduces dramatic tension, if not
divine guidance, into the tale. Otherwise, the Labor would be just too easy. In
real life, it never is.
In
the most likely rendering of the myth, then, Hippolyte freely gave the belt to
Hercules before the conflict. Alternatively, when Hercules saw the Amazons riding
down on him he imagined that Hippolyte herself had betrayed him, so he killed
her and took the belt. In yet another version she was killed accidentally by
her army. One way or another, Hercules secured the prized girdle and headed for
home.
In
a tragic turn typical of Greek myth, Hippolyte is killed after she removes her
protective girdle. Possibly some spiritual death of the defensive ego is
implied, which would excuse Hercules as a guru for administering the coup de
grace. Otherwise, it would be utterly contrary to justice for the very guru who
coaxed her out of her defenses to then do her in, so the idea that Hercules is
the assassin is not satisfactory. A crowd of angry people lured by false
counsel—in other words, society—is the much more likely culprit. Social
conditioning cannot abide freedom, and stamps it out it whenever encountered,
as history amply demonstrates.
Because
of this, I prefer the version that the enraged citizens accidentally killed
Hippolyte, rather than that Hercules betrayed her and stole the belt. The
latter version turns him into just another cad. But Hercules is a model of
spiritual excellence. The Queen, also a highly evolved being, must have
voluntarily surrendered her defensive shield to him, after which he completed his
task by taking the belt back to the king, where its mixed blessing was
conferred on his daughter Admete. Happily, that’s Dr. Mees’ take on it also,
saying simply: “After Hippolute had given her Girdle to Hercules, as she had
promised, the Hero embarked for the return journey.”
A
couple of additional insights may be gleaned from this. Amazons are described
as women who remove their right breast because it interferes with shooting
arrows and launching javelins. Usually though, they were depicted in Greek art
as having both breasts, though one was often covered. This suggests that the
breast-removal is metaphorical. Breasts symbolize caring, nurturing,
generosity, selflessness, and the like, so they naturally stand in opposition
to warfare and bloodshed. Suppressing them—or half suppressing them—makes room
for the hardheartedness of a warrior.
In
concert with restraining our compassion, humans are raised to gird ourselves
with a psychological magic belt or other protective garment, bristling with
weapons, in order to guard our delicate inner being. As individuals we are
defined to a large extent by the particular form of armor or weapon we
habitually choose. Whenever we are approached in real or imagined hostility, we
rise to the challenge and dig in our heels, ready to repulse the assailant.
Of
course, what protects also binds; a fortress can be both a refuge and a prison.
Hippolyte is spiritually mature enough to be ready to remove her binding
defenses and turn them over to a guru such as Hercules. But for a younger
person they do have value, so they are going to be passed on to the King’s
daughter. We need a measure of protection during our formative years. Only when
we have become “crowned and mitered” unto ourselves can we dare to stand
unencumbered by defense mechanisms.
Because
of the defenses symbolized by the belt, Hercules was wise enough to realize
that an aggressive approach was doomed to fail. Instead he came in peace and
supplication. The myth does not relate his cleverness at disarming Hippolyte,
but he was a man, exactly what the Amazons despised most. He had to prove he
was not what she expected.
This
is the piece of the myth that would be most educational if it was spelled out
for us, but it is not: we have to flesh it out for ourselves. We can catch a
glimpse of what may have transpired from the venerable Sacred Mythoi of Demigods and Heroes:
In the vision and knowledge of
Truth the Soul becomes free. When Truth is presented to the consciousness in
such wise that it is readily perceptible, the mind willingly accepts it. Thus,
Hippolyte—the lower mind—is willing to relinquish the symbol of her sovereignty
and binding power—the Girdle—to Hercules, who, as the glory of the Soul, is a
manifestation of the Divine Truth in the Image of which the Soul is said to be
made. (38)
Dr.
Mees agrees: Hippolyte “was much impressed by his beauty
and character, and when she learned the object of his visit, she promised him
her Girdle, a symbol of her sovereignty.” Our sovereignty is our “defended
territory,” and spiritual awakening takes place when we give it up. The only
territory we can legitimately claim as ours is that which accrues to us
naturally, the Self or the Absolute in us. All else is superfluous, the ego’s
turf, the clothing that binds or burns. Ironically, Hercules himself will
eventually be killed by donning a poisoned cloak, which merits its own chapter
at the end of these Labors. It is a warning that success can be even more
encouraging to the spiritual ego than failure.
