Justice is not a fact. It is a cultural truth that shaped Middle Eastern cultures. It meant repayment of debt. In ancient times, even before the rise of monotheistic religions that now dominate the world, it meant repaying what was owed to gods by working in the fields and markets owned by temples that dotted the Fertile Crescent of Mesopotamia. Accountants kept a careful note of what was due to the gods and what was repaid. Lawyers kept contracts of what was promised to the gods. Those who kept their word were promised a full stomach in the heavenly afterlife. The rest starved in hell.
The idea of contracts and debts emerged from prosperous river valleys, surrounded by harsh terrain by deserts and mountains. Where agriculture thrived, lawyers and accountants thrived and they established the myth of fairness and justice, which still shapes the Middle East, where brutal wars are still fought and either side argues passionately that they are on the side of justice.
But Greeks – whose philosophy shaped European Renaissance and humanistic philosophy – did not belong to such an ecosystem. They lived on islands, so were fiercely independent. They herded goats and sheep, and feared pirates. They had nothing worthwhile to trade. Raiding was often the only option. What mattered was winning or losing, and surviving, not being fair or repaying debts. This becomes obvious from the Greek understanding of what happens after death.
Those who irritated the Greek gods were cast in Tartarus and doomed forever to perform endless meaningless chores. Those who impressed the gods with a heroic deed, went to Elysium, the heaven of extraordinary beings, or even joined the banquet of the gods on Olympus. For the rest, the ordinary, the mediocre, there were only the bleak fields of Asphodel.
Here no heart is being measured against a feather of good conduct, as in the Egyptian afterlife. No one is walking across a narrow bridge of righteousness, as in the Persian afterlife. The final resting place depended on the whimsical approval of the gods. Their heroes were great warriors and sailors who prevented raids or brought home the loot.
When a Greek queen called Helen eloped with her lover, the Trojan prince Paris, the Greeks set sail to Troy with a thousand ships to bring her back. During this battle, the Greek hero Achilles fought the Trojan hero Hector. As they fought, Zeus, king of the Olympians, pulled out a scale and compared the weight of both their fates. Hector’s was heavier and went down towards Hades, the subterranean land of the dead. And so it was clear that Hector would be defeated by Achilles and with the fall of Hector would come the fall of Troy.
When Zeus uses weighing scales it is very different from the weighing scales of the Egyptian gods. It is not against an index of proper behaviour. It is to compare the relative value of the two heroes. This value is rather arbitrary based on the quality and length of the thread of life spun by three women known as the Fates. Some are born lucky. Others are born unlucky. Children of gods, such as Achilles, whose mother is a nymph, are clearly favoured over ordinary mortals like Hector. Inheritance here is sheer good luck, not unfair privilege.
The Middle Eastern gods were all powerful, and sought submission and obedience. But the Greek gods feared being overthrown by humans, and so were wary of the overachiever, and kept them busy with wars and conflicts and adventures. Greek stories are full of defiance, and achievement, not about obligation, obedience, and charity. Greek heroes are adventurers who go on dangerous quests into the unknown, kill monsters and bring back gold and glory. Oracles try to decipher the mind of the capricious gods and the fate of humans. Here is one such story from Greek mythology.
Jason raised a team, built a ship called the Argo, and after many adventures managed to secure the golden fleece of Colchis to prove he was worthy of the throne. In these adventures he was helped by Medea, princess of Colchis, a sorceress who betrayed her own father for Jason. But to be king, Jason had to marry a local princess. This meant he had to abandon Medea with whom he had two children. Jason was ready to do that. In fury, Medea killed the children she had with Jason. She even killed his new bride. And then returned heartbroken to Colchis.
In this story, we see Jason focused on victory, and achieving his goal. He feels no sense of gratitude towards Medea. Medea refuses to accept her lot in life. She demands reciprocity. And when that is not forthcoming, she reclaims her debt by brutal violent force. The tension here is between the raider embodied in Jason and the trader embodied in Medea. Jason sought victory. Medea sought justice.
