Introduction
What follows is a reinterpretation of the 18th-century BC narrative titled Atrahasis (Akkadian for "exceedingly wise"). Atrahasis is one of the central figures mentioned in the Sumerian Kings List, which states, "After the kingship descended from heaven, the kingship was in Eridug (Earth)." In this reinterpretation, I adhere closely to the context, flow, and specifics conveyed (such as they are) in the Atrahasis epic and where noted, the Epic of Gilgamesh, and the Babylonian flood story of Zi-ud-sura. However, I take literary license to translate the era’s opaque idiom and provide voice to the characters within this mythical tale. Additionally, I illuminate aspects of the narrative that have, until now, been dismissed as irrational or incoherent, reframing them in the context of our recent discoveries under the Earth Cataclysm Theory.
For comparison, a literal translation of this epic by British scholar of the Ancient Near East, Stephanie M. Dalley, is available at this Omnika Library of Mythology link. Each element of my interpretation below directly corresponds to a specific line from Dalley’s excellent translation, with the exception of (some speculation in parenthesis) a few expository elements drawn from the aforementioned Epics of Gilgamesh and Zi-ud-sura, which recount parallel versions of the same story.
Atrahasis was the founder and King of Kish, the first city to reestablish mankind’s civilization after the inundation of 4400 BC, according to our provisional timeline. He is listed in the Sumerian Kings List as ruling until his successor, Jucur, ascended to power in 4240 BC. Atrahasis corresponds to Utnapishtim, the character in the Babylonian myth The Epic of Gilgamesh. Along with his sons and their servants/households, Atrahasis survived the great cataclysm recounted in over 175 global mythologies. Following his reign in Kish, the Babylonian myth describes Utnapishtim moving east toward Dilmun, the land of the rising sun, where he established a fishing colony which later became known as Mohenjo-Daro. According to the myth, this is where Gilgamesh sought and ultimately found Utnapishtim to petition him for the secret of immortality.
The Akkadian Atrahasis epic recounts the myth of humanity’s creation by the gods Enlil, Anu, Nintu, and Enki—the pantheon of a third generation of the earliest deities. It details the conflict among these gods regarding the unrestrained overpopulation of humanity. To address this issue, the upper gods initially attempt to control the problem through pestilence and famine, but ultimately decide upon a global cataclysm intended to wipe humanity from the face of the Earth.
Let us welcome the players onto their Earthly stage. But first, some music to set the tone for what is to follow.
View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T04hk4nxKaA
Prologue
The Anunnaki, banished to Earth after their final defeat in the heavens, are condemned to live mortal lives of toil and suffering. Burdened by their unrelenting labor and growing discontent, they clone humanity from the blood and DNA of a slain enemy warrior, the god Kingu. Through this act, the Anunnaki not only transfer their burden onto another species but also enslave the visage of the very god who had opposed them in the overthrow of Tiamat, the former Mother of the Gods. Tiamat, who had cherished Kingu as her consort and champion, is avenged in bitter irony.
This act sows the seeds of enmity that form the prison bars of the Anunnaki--palpable and unresolvable. They are the Enochian unforgiven. Humanity, meanwhile, is relegated to the role of step-child, a creation whose image embodies competing paternal resentments among the gods. Left to suffer in dissonance, mankind questions why he is so despised by his very own creators.
The Gods' Labor and Discontent
In the time before humanity, the gods themselves bore the weight of endless toil. They dug canals, carved rivers, and tamed the wild earth, laboring ceaselessly under the command of the elder gods. For countless ages, they endured, until their voices rose in rebellion.
“Why should we, who are gods, endure this endless labor?” they cried. “Our strength is drained, and our hearts grow bitter!”
Hearing their cries, Enlil, chief of the elder gods, grew deeply troubled. Seeking a solution, he convened the divine assembly for counsel.
“If the younger gods rise against us, chaos will reign. We must find a solution.”
Then Enki, the wise and cunning god of waters, spoke:
“Let us create a being to bear the labor. Let them toil in our stead, and let their hands shape the world.”
The Birth of Humanity: A Decree in Hybridization
The gods consented, and Enki, together with the goddess Nintu (the womb goddess), took the task into their hands. They took the blood of the opposing god Kingu, slain for his defiance--a god whose essence embodied both divine power and the Anunnaki’s profound resentment over their imprisonment on Earth. Combining his blood with the DNA lineage of Earth--symbolized as ‘spit and clay’--they fashioned humanity.
“From the essence of the gods and the dust of the earth, we mold you,” Nintu declared. “You shall labor on the gods’ behalf and sustain their dominion.”
Thus, mankind was born, and the burden of the gods’ labor was placed upon human shoulders. For a time, the gods were content, and peace prevailed.
The Spiritual Clamor of Humanity
But as the generations of men multiplied, their lamentations grew louder--noisy and unrelenting, echoing through the heavens to those who might listen. They toiled ceaselessly, building cities, palaces, and orchards for the gods, their grievances rising day and night. Enlil, desiring peace, order, and undisputed rule, grew increasingly troubled by the incessant clamor.
“The noise and smell of these vermin is an offense to the very heavens,” he declared. “They disrupt the tranquil rule of the gods. We must act to silence them.”
Thus, Enlil called for an assembly of the Fifty Lahmu-Heroes, the gods who had once battled Tiamat and now ruled over the Earth. The divine assembly convened, and a decision was made: humanity must be diminished. First, a plague was unleashed upon them, followed by drought and famine. Mothers sold their daughters for food. Daughters, in turn, sold their elder mothers for slaughter. The people, hunched from malnutrition, bore faces marked with the scabs of disease. Men and women perished in vast numbers.
As King, Atrahasis made his voice heard and spoke to his father, Enki:
“Oh Lord, people are suffering mightily! The gods’ illness and famine is consuming the country!“
“Call upon your people to boycott the gods,” Enki instructed. “Cease your toil and workship in their service. Let them suffer from the loss of their fine lives, so that the gods may relent.”
Through Atrahasis’ appeal, humanity survived both plague and famine, and their numbers began to grow once more.
The Gods’ Conflict Over the Impending Cataclysm
Enlil’s frustration grew as the clamor of humanity in their plight rose once again. This time, he resolved to bring the matter to a decisive end. Unbeknownst to mankind, the gods had been monitoring the Earth for some time, searching for indicators signaling a recurrence of the inundation foretold by their first- and second-generation gods and forebears. This unique circumstance presented an opportunity for the gods to eradicate humanity entirely. The plan was diabolically elegant in its execution--serving not only to eliminate mankind but also to discredit Enlil’s brother and rival in policy, Enki, who had championed humanity’s creation. It was a scheme worthy of a god.
Thus, Enlil once again assembled the Fifty Lahmu-Heroes and outlined the details of their new plan. Standing before the council, he spoke with a fury of urgent decree:
“As you know, three teams have been assigned to monitor the balance of Earth’s rotation. We, the Anunnaki, had unanimously agreed to this procedure to ensure the longevity of our habitation and way of life.
1. Anu and Adad were tasked with monitoring the heavens (celestial pole).
2. My team was responsible for observing the rumblings beneath the earth (P-waves).
3. Finally, Enki’s team was assigned to deploy the cables of our protection, power them with the beneficial energy, and carefully monitor Earth’s balance (geomagnetic moment/equilibrium).
I am most distressed to inform you today that my beloved brother Enki has fallen short in his duties. The monitoring of Earth’s geomagnetic equilibrium has failed, and an enormous cataclysm now looms at our doorstep. Due to this self-inflicted oversight, we are doomed to repeat the cycle of cataclysm against which the previous generations of gods so fervently warned.
Emergency powers, therefore, must be placed solely in my hands. It pains me deeply to inform you that there is simply no time left to save humanity; we must now focus on saving ourselves.”
Fearing that panic might ensue and humanity might overrun the abodes of the gods in desperation—or even attempt to devise their own means of surviving the inundation--Enlil commanded each of the Fifty Lahmu-Heroes to step forward and swear an oath of silence. One by one, they pledged their loyalty to Enlil, vowing to keep the coming cataclysm a secret from humanity. Tears streamed down Nintu’s face as she reluctantly uttered her pledge to remain silent.
Enlil, in his cunning, had simultaneously devised a final end for mankind, consolidated his divine authority, and firmly placed the blame for the catastrophe upon his brother’s shoulders.
Finally, the presiding Enlil called upon his brother Enki to stand and swear the oath of silence.
“You, brother, were appointed to deploy the cables. It was your duty to energize them on all our behalf. You were entrusted with monitoring the balance of the Earth—and you have failed us all. Now, swear your oath to me, brother, and in penance, recognizing your love for these creatures, pledge your silence on this matter before all mankind.”
A heavy silence descended upon the council as Enki paused, his gaze sweeping the assembly. Then, at last, he spoke.
“Our Chief and Patron, Enlil, has unveiled an imminent danger and the critical decisions it demands—one that compels us all to urgent action. And make no mistake, Enlil is a renowned warrior. It appears this is the only viable path forward; therefore, I must honor the sentiment of the council as well as its newly vested powers.
Congratulations, brother, on yet another brilliantly executed campaign. My plea is one of guilt through negligence; my next move, now resigned.
You have compelled me as well to take an oath—an oath against the very people I love. A penance—for what? For a natural cataclysm? Do I now control the forces? Was it I who brought this calamity into being? If I could travel back in time to sound the alarm early, I suspect your plan would yield far less satisfaction. The clever twist of a god held responsible for the death of those he loves most—a climax truly befitting an expert strategist.
I recall a time not so long ago, where in a fit of blind vengeance, we slaughtered a revered god, desecrating his intelligence and mocking his essence to craft our ease upon the backs of these beings. And now, in bitter irony, scarcely a moment remains to save a single one of them from your ‘surprise flood’—a recurring cataclysm well-documented by our forebears, yet the knowledge of which you meticulously withheld from both humanity and god alike. My lack of participation served the ruse well.
Yet it is not only I and this council who have fallen victim to your protracted scheme. It was you who imposed heavy burdens upon mankind, you who cast them out of Edin, you who strained their spirits to the breaking point and drove them to lamentation. It was you who sentenced them to death for the very crime you provoked from the start. And make no mistake dear fellows, Enlil is a renowned strategist.
No, these humans were never the true problem; they were merely a threat to this council’s power—a power that has now turned upon its own creation, formed in the image of a celestial god—tempting wrath to descend upon us all.
And thus, we arrive at this moment: ‘Let us force far-sighted Enki into swearing an oath!’ Brother gods, why do you compel me to take this oath? Why should I once again set my hand in pledge with you against an innocent? The inundation comes regardless, and nothing I say, do, swear, or bind can halt it now.
This is the work of Enlil’s hands. Let him live with it.“
Epilogue
In honor of the council’s will, Enki did not reveal the truth to humanity--not even directly to his own son, Atrahasis. Instead, mocking the council, he stood outside the reed wall beside which Atrahasis slept and unveiled his plaintive plea inside Atrahasis’ dreams (as recounted in The Epic of Gilgamesh):
‘Reed house, reed house! Wall, wall! [Were you to speak with him,
say to] the man of Shuruppak, son of Ubartutu:
“Tear down [your] house and build a boat!”
Far-sighted and ever-watchful, the god Enki had dissented. He quietly observed the swift shoes of Sabaoth as they traversed Earth’s night skies, keeping his thoughts and plans close to the vest. With his loyalty teetering in the balance, he had long suspected a grander scheme at play--one in which Kingu himself may have petitioned the heavens to free his progeny from their cruel enslavement. Enki fears that Kingu, in a sudden incisive assault, will unleash a force so powerful that neither his fellow gods nor their underworld chimera will stand a chance of survival.
