The Lotus and the Boat: Plutarch and Iamblichus on Egyptian Symbols

Summary

The present paper examines the two different accounts of the same Egyptian symbols that appear in Plutarch's De Iside et Osiride (11.355B, 34.364C) and Iamblichus's De mysteriis (7.2). While both these authors interpret the lotus flower and the sun boat allegorically, this article shows that their distinct interpretations reflect not only divergent perspectives on the role of (Greek) philosophy and (Egyptian) religious practice in one's pursuit of the divine, but also contrasting conceptions of the symbol.

INTRODUCTION

plutarch and iamblichus put forward different interpretationes graecae of the same Egyptian symbols. Plutarch interprets the lotus flower and the sun boat "physically," as he finds an essential similarity between these symbols and the theological doctrines of the Stoics. Iamblichus, on the other hand, interprets the lotus flower and the sun boat "metaphysically," as he uses these symbols to illustrate the basic assumptions of Neoplatonic philosophy. While both thinkers have distinct conceptions of the symbol, the contrast between their interpretations is usually either merely gestured at¹ or only briefly commented on.² Also, the relation between the two interpretations has been assessed somewhat variously.³ Importantly, there has so far been no detailed analysis that would seek to answer the following questions: (1) why do Plutarch and Iamblichus subject the same Egyptian symbols to different allegorical treatment? and (2) what is the difference between the two interpretations indicative of? The present contribution will aim to address these issues. Let us begin, however, with a few introductory remarks.

Two centuries separate Plutarch (ca. 45–125 c.e.) and Iamblichus (ca. 245–325 c.e.). While their different biographical and philosophical backgrounds have been extensively studied, the following details are worth mentioning briefly in the context of the present considerations. First, both Plutarch and Iamblichus were primarily Platonists. Of course, they drew inspiration from other philosophical schools as well: Plutarch was influenced by Stoicism⁴ and Skepticism,⁵ whereas Iamblichus fused Platonism with Pythagoreanism.⁶ This fact notwithstanding, there is a general consensus that both Plutarch and Iamblichus were fundamentally adherents of Plato's philosophy: Plutarch is typically classified as representing the so-called "Middle Platonism,"⁷ while Iamblichus is customarily categorized as a "Neoplatonist."⁸ That these Platonist philosophers put forward divergent interpretations of the same Egyptian symbols is interesting in light of the fact that both Plutarch and Iamblichus were also priests.⁹

It is very well documented that Plutarch officiated as a priest of Apollo at Delphi. Apart from several passages in his works where Plutarch makes explicit references to his sacerdotal position (e.g., An seni 17.792F), there is also external evidence in the form of inscriptions (e.g., Syll.³ 829A).¹⁰ However, given the focus of this paper, we should also note De Iside 68.378C–D, where Plutarch states that "we exhort (παρεγγυῶμεν) him who comes down here (ἐνταῦθα) to the oracle to think pious thoughts (ὅσια φρονεῖν) and speak auspicious words (εὔφημα λέγειν)."¹¹ Plutarch shows himself here to be confident of his priestly authority to advise and berate people who come to the oracle precisely to receive such guidance. Crucially, when contrasting his sacerdotal authority with the ignorance of οἱ πολλοί, Plutarch presents himself as an expert on the theological questions raised in De Iside.

A strong case can be made that Iamblichus was also a priest. Eunapius (VS 5.1.1) reports him to have been "of illustrious descent, and from a prosperous and fortunate family" (κατὰ γένος μὲν ἐπιφανὴς καὶ τῶν ἁβρῶν καὶ τῶν εὐδαιμόνων).¹² On the other hand, Damascius (ap. Phot. Bibl. 181.126a = Athanassiadi Test. 3) traces his ancestry to Sampsigeramos and Monimos. While the former was a priest-king of Emesa (Str. 16.2.10), the latter remains unknown: it could be the Monikos, whom Stephanus of Byzantium (s.v. Χαλκίς) hails as the founder of Iamblichus's native city, or it could be the god Monimos, whom Julian, citing Iamblichus, equates (Or. 4.150d) with Hermes.¹³ In any case, that Iamblichus came from the royal line of priests sits very well with his decision to present his views under the guise of an Egyptian priest and to assume the sacerdotal role of a theurgist (see below for discussion). Interestingly, as will be seen, Plutarch's and Iamblichus's accounts of Egyptian symbols reveal that these profoundly religious thinkers somewhat differently reconciled the role of the philosopher with that of the priest. This is reflected already in the distinct aims of their treatises.

Plutarch's De Iside et Osiride has received a great deal of scholarly attention. ¹⁴ Most generally, the tract combines an exposition of Middle Platonic metaphysics with a discussion of Egyptian religion and cult practice. This is stated explicitly in the middle of the text as Plutarch declares (48.371A) that in what follows he will relate the θεολογία of the Egyptians to Plato's φιλοσοφία. While the latter provides the lens through which the former is to be evaluated,¹⁵ the underlying assumption of the work is that ancient Egyptian culture is a treasure trove of numerous precious insights that have to be excavated from underneath various less felicitous formulations: Plutarch holds the ancient wisdom of Egypt in high esteem, but also puts it in no uncertain terms that this valuable material needs to be approached critically. Thus, for example, he famously emphasizes (3.352C) that the true Isiakos "examines and investigates rationally" (λόγῳ ζητῶν καὶ φιλοσοφῶν) everything that is displayed and done in the traditional cult of the gods. Towards the end of his treatise, Plutarch similarly stresses (68.378A) that it is necessary to take as a "guide into the mysteries" (μυσταγωγός) the λόγος of philosophy and to "reflect piously" (ὁσίως διανοεῖσθαι) on everything said and done in the established religious practice. Thus, as Daniel S. Richter has persuasively shown, the entire De Iside consistently elevates the philosophical contemplation of divinity over the Egyptian cult.¹⁶

Speaking from a position of a Delphic priest, Plutarch obviously does not advocate disregard for religious prescriptions and customs as such. However, he unequivocally gives theoretical understanding an ascendancy over ritual practice: the quest for knowledge of the divine—asserts Plutarch at the very beginning of his tract (2.351E)—is a task much "holier" (ὁσιώτερον) than any "ceremonial purification" (ἁγνεία) or "temple service" (νεωκορία). One can safely say, then, that for Plutarch (Greek and Platonic) philosophy is the touchstone against which the (Egyptian) cult is to be constantly evaluated: reason examines myths, symbols, rites and rituals so that the valuable could be separated from the valueless. While according to Plutarch the ancient wisdom of Egypt is thus validated by philosophical scrutiny, a completely different perspective is espoused by Iamblichus.

For a long time, Iamblichus's De mysteriis was somewhat neglected by classicists.¹⁷ Recent scholarship has significantly reevaluated the importance of Iamblichus and his thought,¹⁸ but a great deal of work still needs to be done before his treatise is appreciated as much as De Iside has already been. In particular, we should note here that studies on the history of allegorical interpretation frequently take into account Plutarch's approach to allegoresis in De Iside, but disregard Iamblichus's use of allegorical interpretation in De mysteriis.¹⁹ Indeed, many scholars tend to stress that Iamblichus's lack of interest in Homeric exegesis testifies to his break with the traditions of Stoic and/or Porphyrian allegoresis.²⁰ However, it is worth emphasizing here that (1) the practice of allegorical interpretation could be applied not just to (Homeric) poetry, and that (2) many Stoic and Platonist allegorists saw themselves as performing essentially the same type of activity. With regard to the first point, we should bear in mind that ancient allegoresis was by no means a merely literary activity. This has been brilliantly argued by Glenn W. Most in his seminal paper on Cornutus: Stoic allegoresis cannot be adequately understood as an activity performed exclusively upon texts, since Cornutus interprets not only poems, but also various epithets, cult practices, visual arts and so on.²¹ Unsurprisingly, then, Porphyry (ap. Euseb. Praep. evang. 3.7.1 = Smith Fr. 351) can also recommend "reading from the statues exactly as from books" (καθάπερ ἐκ βίβλων τῶν ἀγαλμάτων ἀναλέγειν). While Porphyry urges here that the truths hidden in sculptures be unveiled in the same manner as are those concealed in texts,²² this brings us to the second point: many Platonists viewed their allegoresis as a (significantly improved) continuation of the Stoics' hermeneutical efforts. Porphyry is again a prime case in point. George R. Boys-Stones has acutely pointed out that when looking back at a century of Platonist "allegorical method" (μεταληπτικὸς τρόπος), Porphyry (ap. Euseb. Hist. eccl. 6.19.8 = Harnack Fr. 39) places the Stoics Chaeremon and Cornutus at the head of his list of great Platonist and Pythagorean allegorical interpreters.²³ Accordingly, in what follows, it will be shown that De mysteriis proves that Iamblichus did not utterly reject "l'interpretation allegorique, telle que la pratiquait Porphyre."²⁴

Most generally, De mysteriis can be characterized as a passionate defense of theurgic rites. Iamblichus presents his views under the guise of an Egyptian priest, Abamon, who begins his exposition with an explanation (1.1.2.5) that he replies to such "questions about theology" (περὶ θεολογίας … ἐρωτήματα) as those that were raised by his student Anebo.²⁵ This is a reference to a polemical text by Porphyry, who composed a letter in which he apparently impugned the value of the (Egyptian) cult practice.²⁶ Thus, what Iamblichus has Abamon offer in De mysteriis is a series of "solutions" (λύσεις) to the "problems" (ἀπορήματα) that were posed by Porphyry through his Anebo.²⁷ The controversy between the two successors of Plotinus revolves around the usefulness of sacred rituals in one's pursuit of spiritual ascent: Porphyry the philosopher views contemplation (θεωρία) as most important for the salvation of one's soul, whereas Iamblichus the hierophant regards performing appropriate rites (θεουργία) as an indispensable assistance in one's return to the divine.²⁸ Thus, for example, in the (in)famous passage, Abamon forcefully asserts (2.11.96.11–13) that it is not "thinking" (ἔννοια) that "connects" (συνάπτει) the theurgists with the gods, for if that were the case then the "contemplative philosophers" (θεωρητικῶς φιλοσοφοῦντες) would all enjoy a "theurgic union" (θεουργικὴ ἕνωσις) with the gods. Rather, what establishes such a union—continues Abamon adamantly (96.13–97.2)—is the "ritual accomplishment" (τελεσιουργία) of acts that are "not to be divulged" (ἄρρητα), "divinely performed"²⁹ and "beyond all understanding" (ὑπὲρ πᾶσαν νόησιν), along with the "power of ineffable symbols that are understandable only to the gods" (τῶν νοουμένων τοῖς θεοῖς μόνον συμβόλων ἀφθέγκτων δύναμις). The passage stresses the insufficiency of a purely intellectual approach.³⁰ Indeed, throughout his treatise, Iamblichus employs the term θεουργία precisely to emphasize the deficiency of θεωρία for the re-ascent of the soul: no matter how excellent a thinker one may be, salvation cannot be achieved through human thought alone—certain special works of the gods (θεῶν ἔργα) are necessary, and these are provoked by the theurgist who, then, acts as a philosophical priest and mystagogue. Hence, Iamblichus transforms the entire Platonic tradition, as he fuses Greek philosophy with Eastern religious practices.

Prior to discussing the different interpretationes graecae that Plutarch and Iamblichus offer, it is advisable to briefly characterize the Egyptian symbols that these two Platonist priests allegorize.³¹ The lotus is a symbol of creation, life, and light. The flower arises from the primordial waters of the dark sea known as Nun. It emerges as a luminous bud, which opens to reveal the divine child. The infant sitting on the lotus was called Nefertum and often equated with the flower itself, which the sun god Re held to his nostrils. As Nefertum represents the first rays of the rising sun, the deity was often conflated with Re, and then also with the sky god Horus, whose Hellenized name was Harpocrates (i.e., Horus the child). The solar boat, on the other hand, is a symbol of the sun traversing the sky: the god voyaging in the solar barque was usually Re, Horus or Osiris. As the god sailed across the sky in his ship, he not only brought light and life to the world but also governed it. While the Egyptians assigned two barques to the sun god (one for the day and one for the night), the moon god (Khonsu) was also believed to travel in a barque.

These symbols are interpreted "physically" by Plutarch and "metaphysically" by Iamblichus. It is now time to analyze the specifics of their accounts.

PLUTARCH'S PHYSICAL ALLEGORESIS

The symbols that concern us here are discussed by Plutarch separately in chapters 11 and 34 of De Iside. The former deals with the symbolic character of Egyptian myths and the latter forms part of a much larger investigation into the value of the physical allegoresis of myths. Let us look at them briefly.

Chapter 11 begins with a general admonition (355B) that Egyptian myths should not be hastily assumed to actually have happened precisely in the manner in which they are related. To illustrate this, Plutarch adduces three interesting examples, of which the second one concerns the lotus flower. First, Plutarch explains (ibid.) that it is not "literally" (κυρίως) the dog that the Egyptians revere under the name of Hermes (i.e., Thoth),³² for what they honor are such qualities of the animal as "guardianship" (τὸ φυλακτικόν), "vigilance" (τὸ ἄγρυπνον) and "love of wisdom" (τὸ φιλόσοφον), which they attribute to the most sagacious of the gods.³³ Then, he makes the same point (ibid.) about the lotus symbol:

Nor do they believe that the Sun rises as a newborn baby from the lotus, but thus they represent the rising of the sun, hinting enigmatically at the enkindling of the sun from moisture

(τὴν ἐξ ὑγρῶν ἡλίου γινομένην ἄναψιν αἰνιττόμενοι).

Finally, Plutarch gives the example (355B–C) of the cruel Persian king Okhus,³⁴ who likewise was called "sword" (μάχαιρα) only figuratively: it was his atrocious nature that warranted the name.

In the above examples, Plutarch suggests that figurative signification emerges when an image³⁵ represents one thing (sagacity, sunrise, cruelty) in the form of another (dog, newborn baby, sword). Thus, the qualities of the animal are used to represent the attributes of the god, so that the dog's ability to distinguish friends from foes illustrates Hermes' wisdom; the image of a child emerging from the lotus is used to represent the rising of the sun, so that the similarity between infancy (the beginning of the life) and dawn (the beginning of the day) is brought forth; and, finally, the deadliness of the weapon is used to represent the bloodthirsty nature of the king, so that the correspondence between a murderous instrument and a murderous person is established. While Plutarch makes it clear that such symbols are frequently elaborated and woven into mythical narratives (e.g., Okhus the sword put many people to death, slaughtered the Apis, feasted on him with his friends, etc.), he also insists that an appropriate approach to Egyptian myths consists in going beyond their surface meaning and unearthing their allegorical message.

Plutarch concludes chapter 11 with the caution (355C–D) that not just myths but all religious beliefs and practices need to be investigated "piously and philosophically" (ὁσίως καὶ φιλοσόφως) so that one could attain a true "opinion"³⁶ about the gods without slipping into either "superstition" (δεισιδαιμονία) or "atheism" (ἀθεότης). This is consistent with what has already been said about Plutarch's perspective: myths, symbols, rites and rituals have to be examined critically lest they degenerate into false beliefs (whether irrationality or irreligiousness). While this pious and philosophical approach enables one to bring to light the hidden meaning of Egyptian theology without repudiating it altogether, it also presupposes the willingness to distinguish between the valuable and the worthless in Egyptian religion. But if this distinction underlies Plutarch's account of Egyptian symbolism, does this mean that he embraces the aforementioned allegorical interpretations?³⁷

He apparently accepts the moral ones ("Hermes the dog" and "Okhus the sword"). But when Plutarch deciphers the image of a child emerging from a flower as symbolizing how the sun is enkindled from water, does he really espouse this physical explanation? ³⁸ In other words, when Plutarch diagnoses that the Egyptians do not literally believe that Helios rises as a newborn baby from the lotus, does he himself approve of the allegory that he unveils? Unfortunately, Plutarch does not discuss the physical interpretation that he puts forward: he only mentions it very briefly, along with the two moral ones. Yet, while his discussion may prima facie suggest that he endorses the physical allegoresis of the lotus flower, there is good evidence that Plutarch does not in fact favor this explanation. The evidence comes from what he says about this symbol in another treatise and from how he interprets the other symbol that is the focus of this paper.

In De Pythiae oraculis, the same physical allegoresis of the lotus flower is derided and dismissed as Stoic.³⁹ In chapter 12, Plutarch has the poet Sarapion unravel the latent meaning of the bronze palm-tree, the frogs and the watersnakes wrought in metal in the base of the Corinthians' treasure-house. When interpreting these decorations, Sarapion puts forward the explanation (400A) that the artisan thus "hinted enigmatically at the nourishment, origin and exhalation of the sun from moisture" (τὴν ἐξ ὑγρῶν ᾐνίξατο τροφὴν τοῦ ἡλίου καὶ γένεσιν καὶ ἀναθυμίασιν). This allegoresis accords with De Iside 11.355B in that the sun is shown to be generated from water. However, in De Pythiae 12.400A it is surmised that the artisan drew inspiration either from Homer's description of how "the sun sprang up, leaving behind the beautiful sea,"⁴⁰ or from the fact that the Egyptians "represent a newborn child sitting on the lotus as a symbol of the beginning of sunrise."⁴¹ Thus, Sarapion adduces not only an Egyptian symbol but also a verse from the poet in support of his explanation that the ornaments forged in metal are an allegory of the enkindling of the sun from moisture. Importantly, Philinus, who in all probability represents here Plutarch's own views, explicitly rejects (400A–B) this physical allegoresis: the Stoics' explanations in terms of "enkindlings" (ἀνάψεις) and "exhalations" (ἀναθυμιάσεις) are repudiated because they crudely reduce the sun god to "an earthborn animal or a marsh plant" (γηγενὲς ζῷον ἢ φυτὸν ἕλειον).⁴² While Philinus's criticism of Stoic materialism suggests that Plutarch actually does not embrace the allegoresis of the lotus flower that he presents in De Iside 11.355B, this can be further substantiated by Plutarch's account of the sun boat, which is discussed in the context of a larger examination of the value of physical allegoresis.

Plutarch begins his discussion (32.363D) with the "simplest"⁴³ interpretations that have been offered by those who say something "more philosophical" (φιλοσοφώτερον), upon which he illustrates this approach with the examples of Greeks who "allegorically interpret" (ἀλληγοροῦσι) Cronos as "time" (χρόνος) and Egyptians who similarly identify Osiris with the "Nile." That Plutarch is sharply critical of such jejune equations and favors more philosophically elaborate explanations is evident already in the next chapter, where he speaks approvingly (33.364A) of the "wiser" (σοφώτεροι) of the priests who do not content themselves with merely identifying Osiris with the Nile, but more sophisticatedly interpret Osiris as the general "principle" (ἀρχή) and "power" (δύναμις) of moisture. What Plutarch appreciates about such more refined explanations is that they rise above the level of trivial equations in which the gods are simply (deified) physical objects (Osiris = the Nile). These subtler interpretations elevate the deities from the level of particular natural phenomena (the Egyptian river) to the more general level of metaphysical laws of nature (the principle of moisture). Nevertheless, this approach is still far too materialistic for a Platonist, as it remains in basic agreement with Presocratic physics. This is made clear in chapter 34, where Plutarch turns to the celestial boats and attributes (364C–D) the following view to the Egyptians:

They say that the Sun and the Moon do not use chariots but boats as vehicles to traverse their courses, thus hinting enigmatically at their nourishment and origin from moisture (αἰνιττόμενοι τὴν ἀφ' ὑγροῦ τροφὴν αὐτῶν καὶ γένεσιν). They think also that Homer, like Thales, had learned [this] from the Egyptians when he posited water as the principle and origin of all things (ὕδωρ ἀρχὴν ἁπάντων καὶ γένεσιν τίθεσθαι); for [according to them] Oceanus is Osiris and Tethys is Isis, since she is the one nursing and nourishing everything together

(ὡς τιθηνουμένην πάντα καὶ συνεκτρέφουσαν).

While in Plutarch's eyes a great deal of Egyptian theology is very much like Presocratic physics, this type of approach is here illustrated with the example of Thales. Plutarch's account of the Milesian philosopher derives presumably from Aristotle's Metaphysics, where the same terminology is employed (A 3.983b24–25 = DK 11 A 12) to characterize water as the principle from which all things originate.⁴⁴ Also, it is noteworthy that in his discussion of Thales' hydromonism the Stagirite provides us with the oldest testimony on the controversy over Homer's originality. Aristotle mentions further (983b27–31) the "very ancient" (παμπάλαιοι) theologians who made Oceanus and Tethys the "parents of generation" (γενέσεως πατέρες). While this is a clear reference to Homer, who describes (Il. 14.201) Oceanus as the "origin of the gods" (θεῶν γένεσις) and Tethys as the "mother" (μήτηρ), there has been a long tradition of allegorists deriving Thales' first principle from this Homeric passage.⁴⁵ Plutarch's Egyptians fit well in the picture: the primeval waters, which give rise to all rivers and seas, are the Egyptian Osiris, who corresponds to the Greek Oceanus.⁴⁶

Plutarch, a convinced Platonist, brings together the first poet, the first philosopher and the Egyptian priests because from his perspective all these doctrines, for all their insights, are but a form of materialism, which assumes that the divine in one way or another originates from and/or is reducible to water (i.e., matter). The point is strengthened when somewhat later the Stoics are also included in the considerations. In chapter 40, Plutarch observes (367C = SVF 2.1093) that the account of the Egyptian gods as cosmic forces is "similar to the theological doctrines of the Stoics" (ὅμοια τοῖς ὑπὸ τῶν Στωικῶν θεολογουμένοις). The similarity lies in that the gods are identified with various physical objects and natural phenomena. Plutarch refers here (ibid.) to the famous Stoic doctrine that the pneuma "pervades" (διῆκον) the whole of the universe, adopting different names in accordance with its distinct powers (see, e.g., Alex. Aphrod. De mixt. 216.14–17 = SVF 2.473 and Diog. Laert. 7.147 = SVF 2.1021). From Plutarch's perspective, this materialist theology inevitably leads to atheism, for when the divine is conflated with the physical world (as "permeating" it), then the divine is contaminated by matter and, thereby, subject to change and decay. This, on the other hand, means that the concept of the divine is abrogated altogether.⁴⁷ That is precisely why in chapter 66 Plutarch quotes (377D–E = SVF 1.547) Cleanthes' reduction of Persephone to the "pneuma that is carried (φερόμενον) through the crops and [then] dissolved (φονευόμενον)" as an illustration of "dreadful" (δειναί) and "atheistic" (ἄθεοι) opinions. Plutarch's point is that the divine must be clearly distinguished from all its phenomenal manifestations (the sun, earth, crops, etc.) or it is corrupted and abolished. Hence, the Stoics' physical allegoresis (gods = material realities) has preposterous and blasphemous implications: the expressions of the divine are mistaken for the divinity itself.

The divine can be found in a myriad of forms: from physical objects (e.g., the sun) to Egyptian symbols (e.g., the sun boat). What has to be borne in mind is that these are merely images or hints, for in the corporeal world the divine manifests itself symbolically. Thus, these sensible clues must not be worshipped, as through them the divine is only to be discovered. Egyptian symbols illustrate this perfectly: they can be useful if interpreted allegorically, but ultimately their value is limited. Such symbols as the lotus flower or the sun boat can guide the soul towards the divine, but they may also lead the soul astray to impiety (e.g., if interpreted according to materialist theology). From Plutarch's perspective, the entire Egyptian religion is only a partial manifestation of the truth: the "Platonic" section of the treatise (48–64) makes it clear that the philosophical approach is superior when it comes to knowledge of the divine. The non-Platonic accounts (whether Egyptian or Greek) play solely a heuristic role in our understanding of divinity, since apart from scattered half-truths and partially correct insights, they also contain misleading distortions and outright falsehoods. This is spectacularly evident in several of Plutarch's harsh criticisms of Egyptian religion. Suffice it to mention here his severe castigation of Egyptian myths for such outrageous elements as dismemberments or decapitations of the gods (20.358E), or his flat rejection of the Egyptian practice of animal worship (71.379D–72.380C). While Plutarch is very careful not to undermine the ascendancy of Greek philosophy over the Egyptian cult, a completely different approach is championed by Iamblichus.

IAMBLICHUS'S METAPHYSICAL ALLEGORESIS

The symbols that concern us here are discussed by Iamblichus in Book 7 of De mysteriis.⁴⁸ The discussion forms part of a much larger investigation into two related questions: (1) how can fully descended souls communicate with divinity when they are imprisoned in a material body and the deity is utterly incorporeal and transcendent? (2) what kind of discourse is most appropriate for conveying the divine mysteries? Iamblichus has Abamon propose a solution (7.1.249.11–250.9) that involves having recourse to the type of theology practiced by the Egyptians:

For these [people], imitating (μιμούμενοι) the nature of the universe and the demiurgic activity of the gods, display certain images (εἰκόνας τινάς) of mystical, arcane and invisible intellections through symbols (διὰ συμβόλων), just as nature has stamped the invisible principles in visible forms through certain symbolic mode (διὰ συμβόλων τρόπον τινά), and the demiurgic activity of the gods has indicated the truth of the forms in manifest images (διὰ τῶν φανερῶν εἰκόνων). Perceiving, then, that all superior beings rejoice in the inferiors' becoming like [them] and wish to fill them with goods, insofar as it is possible through imitation (διὰ τῆς κατὰ τὸ δυνατὸν μιμήσεως), it is reasonable that they should proffer the mode that is appropriate to the mystical doctrine concealed in symbols

(ἐν τοῖς συμβόλοις).

Given the ontological chasm between the almighty gods and helpless mortals, salvation must come from a higher power and through a proper medium. The above passage suggests that the much-needed assistance can be obtained from Egyptian religion, which employs various powerful symbols.⁴⁹ While these originate with the gods, Iamblichus ascribes two functions to Egyptian symbols. First, they put the divine into terms accessible to men. This is why Abamon says that Egyptian symbols make it possible for human beings to acquire some notion of the "mystical, arcane and invisible." The idea that symbols describe for men the otherwise indescribable permeates the entire De mysteriis. In Book 1, for example, we read (21.65.7–9) that "through secret symbols" (διὰ συμβόλων ἀπορρήτων) the "ineffable" (ἄφθεγκτα) is expressed, the "formless" (ἀνειδέα) is given form and that which is "superior to every image" (πάσης εἰκόνος κρείττονα) is presented in images. This account of the symbol is typically Platonic: similarly to Plutarch, Iamblichus views symbols as sensible images that make knowledge of the imperceptible possible. However, Abamon also insists that symbols need to be of specific origin: symbols cannot be arbitrary or they will not fulfill their salvific function.⁵⁰ Thus, Iamblichus turns to Egyptian symbols and states in no uncertain terms that it is these symbols that provoke divine intervention. In the above passage, Abamon says that the "superior beings" (i.e., gods) delight in seeing the "inferior" (i.e., Egyptian priests) imitate their δημιουργία and bestow good things upon them. While the human imitation of the gods' demiurgic activity consists in performing appropriate interpretations of Egyptian symbols, Iamblichus illustrates this with what he terms (7.2.250.11) the "intellectual interpretation" (νοερὰ διερμήνευσις) of Egyptian symbolism. His interpretation ingeniously combines various Platonic, Egyptian, and Chaldean elements.

Abamon begins his exposition (250.13–14) with a discussion of "mud" or "slime" (ἰλύς), which the Egyptians identified with the primeval waters (i.e., Nun), but which he takes to represent all that is "corporeal" (σωματοειδές), "material" (ὑλικόν), "nutritive" (θρεπτικόν) and so on.⁵¹ Thus, Iamblichus allegorizes mud as matter: the fertilizing nature of slime makes it a fitting symbol for the primordial "cause" (αἴτιον) and pre-established "foundation" (πυθμήν) of the elements (251.3–5). This is then contrasted (251.5–13) with the "transcendent" (ὑπερέχων) god who is characterized as, among other things, "immaterial" (ἄυλος), "incorporeal" (ἀσώματος), "separate" (χωριστός), and "elevated" (μετέωρος) above everything. While the ontological gulf between this intelligible divinity and the sensible world requires an intermediary, it is here that the lotus flower and the sun boat come into the picture. Abamon puts forward (251.14–252.15) the following interpretation of these two:

For "sitting on a lotus" hints enigmatically at transcendency over the mud (ὑπεροχήν τε ὑπὲρ τὴν ἰλὺν αἰνίττεται), such as in no way touches the mud, and also indicates intellectual and empyrean leadership (ἡγεμονίαν νοερὰν καὶ ἐμπύριον ἐπιδείκνυται). For everything to do with the lotus is seen to be circular (κυκλοτερῆ), both the forms of the leaves and the appearance of the fruit, and it is the circular (κατὰ κύκλον) motion that is uniquely connatural with the activity of intellect (νοῦ ἐνέργεια), which manifests itself consistently in one order and according to one principle. And the god is established by himself (ἵδρυται καθ' ἑαυτόν), and beyond such leadership and activity (ὑπὲρ τὴν τοιαύτην ἡγεμονίαν καὶ ἐνέργειαν), venerable and holy (σεμνὸς καὶ ἅγιος), entirely simple (ὑπερηπλωμένος) and abiding in himself (μένων ἐν ἑαυτῷ), which his sitting is intended to signify (σημαίνειν). And "sailing in a boat" represents the sovereignty that governs the world (τὴν διακυβερνῶσαν τὸν κόσμον ἐπικράτειαν παρίστησιν). Just as, therefore, the helmsman, being separate (χωριστός) from the ship, presides over its rudder, so the sun separately (χωριστῶς) presides over the helm of the whole world.⁵² And as the helmsman directs everything from on high (ἄνωθεν) at the stern, giving out the first minimal principle of movement from himself, thus also, but by a much greater priority, the god from on high (ἄνωθεν) gives out, indivisibly, from the first principles of nature, the primordial causes of motions.

Iamblichus identifies the god sitting on a lotus with the transcendent ruler of the physical world: the Demiurge governs the material cosmos (the "mud"), while remaining elevated above it. The god's rule is characterized as "intellectual and empyrean," which clearly echoes the Chaldean Oracles.⁵³ The lotus provides a link between this immaterial divinity and the material cosmos. Following a well-established Platonic tradition (see, e.g., Pl. Ti. 47b5–c4 or Plot. Enn. 2.2.1), Iamblichus interprets the circularity of the lotus as symbolizing the motion of the heavens and the motion of the Intellect (see also below). That the god is seated on the lotus is taken to signify various attributes of the Demiurge: supremacy, sanctity, simplicity, and immutability. While these are cast in such unmistakably Platonic terms as "abiding in himself " (see, e.g., Ti. 42e5–6) or "being venerable and holy" (see, e.g., Soph. 249a1–2), a particularly important appropriation of Plato's imagery is that of the "helmsman," for it provides a smooth transition to the other symbol: the god's sailing in his boat. In Politicus 272d6–273e4, god is the κυβερνήτης who holds the helm of the whole world and saves the ship of the universe from destruction.⁵⁴ Iamblichus combines this Platonic image of the divine helmsman with the Egyptian symbol of the sun god riding in the boat: the solar deity is, again, the ruler of the world, the barque denotes the cosmos and the god's sailing in it is interpreted as symbolizing such qualities of the Demiurge as his leadership, sovereignty and priority. Thus, the god riding in the solar boat represents how the Demiurge governs the world, but at the same time remains separate and distinct from it.

It is noteworthy that Iamblichus associates the Demiurge with the Sun: Helios holds the helm of the whole universe and illuminates it. This divine light connects the transcendent deity with the physical world below: though elevated above all matter, Helios sheds his light upon the lower realm. This illumination awakens human souls and makes their ascent to the gods possible. The anagogical power of divine light symbolized here by the solar deity is frequently emphasized in De mysteriis. Thus, for example, in Book 1, Iamblichus says (12.41.4–6) that when the gods "shine [their] light" (φῶς ἐπιλάμπουσιν) upon the theurgists, they "summon up" (ἀνακαλούμενοι) their souls and "lead" (χορηγοῦντες) them to union with themselves.⁵⁵ While this idea of divine illumination underlies the entire project of theurgy, it is also relevant for understanding Abamon's emphasis on the lotus's circularity (7.2.252.2: κυκλοτερῆ and 252.4: κατὰ κύκλον).⁵⁶

We know that Iamblichus viewed the circle (κύκλος) as an image of the Intellect (νοῦς). Proclus reports (In Ti. 2.72.13–19 = Dillon Fr. 49) him to have associated the soul's circularity with its assimilation to the Intellect:

our vehicle (ὄχημα) is made spherical (σφαιρικόν), and is moved in a circle (κυκλικῶς), whenever the soul is especially assimilated to the Intellect (πρὸς τὸν νοῦν); for the intellection (νόησις) of the soul and the circular motion (κυκλοφορία) of bodies imitate the intellectual activity (τὴν νοερὰν ἐνέργειαν), even as the ascents and descents of souls motion in a straight line (κατ' εὐθεῖαν), for these are motions of bodies which are not in their proper places

(ἐν τοῖς οἰκείοις τόποις).⁵⁷

The spherical shape and circular motion of the vehicle mark the beginning of the soul's return to the pristine state prior to embodiment. Conversely, the soul's dissociation from the Intellect manifests itself in its loss of spherical shape and motion in a straight line. The linearity of ascents and descents signifies that the soul is not where it belongs (whether it is on its way to liberation from the body or to enslavement in it). In this aspect, the lotus flower symbolizes, then, the cycle of embodiment: while the mud in which the lotus grows stands for the matter in which the soul is imprisoned, it provides the foundation for the lotus to "blossom," that is, for the soul's gradual detachment from the body and its worldly concerns. Thus, the lotus's circularity hints enigmatically at the development of intellectual capacities and the soul's assimilation to the νοῦς (i.e., its liberation from the "mud" of embodiment).

Hence, according to Iamblichus's allegoresis, such Egyptian symbols as the lotus flower or the sun boat illustrate the basic tenets of Plato's philosophy. Most importantly, however, these symbols make it possible for human beings not only to comprehend the divine but also to unite with it. Throughout Book 7, Abamon consistently ascribes anagogical power to Egyptian symbols: his intellectual interpretation aims to show that these symbols elevate the soul to the gods. While this soteriological potential of barbarian sacred discourse is particularly emphasized in the celebrated discussion of "meaningless names" (ἄσημα ὀνόματα),⁵⁸ it is crucial to note that for Iamblichus mythical images like the lotus flower or the sun boat also awaken the soul to the gods.⁵⁹ Contrary to Plutarch, however, Iamblichus insists that to bring about the ascent of the soul and its union with the gods, the symbols must be of specific origin.

THE VALUE OF EGYPTIAN SYMBOLS

Although both Plutarch and Iamblichus share Plato's respect for Egypt (see, e.g., Phdr. 274c5–275b4, Phlb. 18b6–d2, Ti. 21c2–22b8, Plt. 290d6–e3, Leg. 656d1–657b8, 799a1–b8, 819a8–d3), their approaches to Egyptian symbols differ immensely: for Plutarch Egyptian symbols are accidental to salvation, whereas for Iamblichus they are essential to it.

Plutarch's position emerges as a curious mixture of universalism and Hellenocentrism. On the one hand, Plutarch firmly believes that all names, symbols, myths, and rites are merely sensible hints at the divine, since divinity transcends language, nation, and culture. On the other hand, however, he is also profoundly convinced that everything valuable can ultimately be traced back to the Greeks, and what cannot be assimilated into his Hellenic perspective needs to be discarded as barbaric. Thus, in an important passage of De Iside, Plutarch observes first (67.377F–378A) that the gods should not be thought of as different among different peoples (i.e., "barbarian" vs "Greek"), for just as the sun or heaven are "common to all" (κοινὰ πᾶσιν), though variously named by various nations, so the one "reason" (λόγος) and the one "providence" (πρόνοια) are differently honored and addressed among different peoples. Plutarch's idea that distinct names refer to the same theological reality is—as Robbert M. van den Berg acutely points out—highly reminiscent of Cratylus 389d4–390a8, where it is suggested that Greek and barbarian names may be in fact equally correct.⁶⁰ However, this—sit venia verbo—"ecumenical" position is immediately qualified, as Plutarch further notes (67.378A) that while different peoples use different symbols for the purpose of guiding the thought "towards the divine" (ἐπὶ τὰ θεῖα), this carries within itself the danger of either "superstition" (δεισιδαιμονία) or "atheism" (ἀθεότης). This qualification is consistent with everything that has been said above about Plutarch's approach to the entire Egyptian cult: names, symbols, myths, and rites are sensible clues that have the potential of leading the soul towards the divine, but they may also allure the soul away from it. In the latter case, the misguidance of the cult may result either in irrationality (as when individuals mistake shallow ritualism for piety and equate the cult with the divinity) or in irreligiousness (as when individuals see the emptiness of unreflective rituals but reject not only the cult but all divinity as well). This is why, to steer clear of the two extremes, one must—as Plutarch further urges (68.378A)—take the λόγος of philosophy as a "guide into the mysteries" (see above). This μυσταγωγός enables us to recognize the extent to which the Egyptian cult points to the divine and prevents us from uncritically accepting it. However, the guidance of philosophy takes not only the form of rationalization of the Egyptian cult but also of its Hellenization.

Plutarch's appropriative agenda becomes spectacularly visible in his attempts to derive various names of the Egyptian gods from the Greek language (see, e.g., 2.351F–352A or 61.375D–376A).⁶¹ In the course of doing so, Plutarch not only argues for the superiority of Greek culture over Egyptian but at times also completely dismisses the value and importance of barbarian nomenclature. Thus, for example, he asserts (61.376A) that "there is very little (ἥκιστα) need to indulge in rivalry (φιλοτιμεῖσθαι) with regard to these names," for ultimately both the Egyptian and Greek names refer to the same deity. This position is fiercely opposed by Iamblichus, who strongly insists that the gods have their cherished names, symbols, and rites, and that these are not Greek.⁶²

In De mysteriis 7.4–5, Iamblichus hails the Egyptian cult as the model for all types of worship on the grounds of its antiquity. Thus, he has Abamon state (258.3–4) that since the Egyptians were the first to have been allotted "participation with the gods" (μετουσία τῶν θεῶν), the gods "rejoice" (χαίρουσι) in their rites.⁶³ While Abamon pleads (256.3–257.14) that the discourse of such "sacred peoples" (ἱερῶν ἐθνῶν) as the Egyptians and the Assyrians⁶⁴ be recognized as superior to that of the Greeks, his plea attests that this was a point of contention among the Platonists. Porphyry, for example, does not believe that there is a culture that has a privileged access to the divine. For him, as Iamblichus laments (257.1–2), what matters is not which particular language is used but rather that the "conception" (ἔννοια) remains the same. Thus, Porphyry, similarly to Plutarch, refuses to favor any particular nomenclature: the gods have no linguistic preferences, since the divine is elevated above all ethnic categories.⁶⁵ Abamon, on the other hand, flatly repudiates (257.3–6) the view that all names have been established "by convention" (κατὰ συνθήκην) and maintains that as the barbarian divine names "are conjoined with the nature of [real] beings" (τῇ φύσει συνήρτηται τῶν ὄντων), they are "better adapted" (μᾶλλον … προσεοικότα) and, therefore, "more dear" (προσφιλέστερα) to the gods. While De mysteriis glorifies barbarian discourse as the very language of the gods, from Iamblichus onwards Neoplatonic theurgists will have to answer the question whether the gods should be invoked by their Greek or foreign names.

Proclus, for example, agrees with Abamon on the indispensability of theurgy but is less committed to the superiority of barbarian sacred discourse. His Commentary on the Cratylus, for instance, transmits a doctrine that in this respect somewhat departs from Iamblichus.⁶⁶ Thus, at § 57 (25.13–16) the unequivocal recommendation is that "the Greeks need not (οὐ δεῖ) use Egyptian, Scythian or Persian but Greek names of the gods, for the rulers of the [various] regions (κλιματάρχαι) rejoice (χαίρουσι) when named in the languages of their proper lands." Furthermore, at § 71 (32.5–12) it is clarified that while different peoples "partake of " (μετέχουσιν) the divine names in different ways, each of such distinct names must be recognized as a "product of the gods" (ἔγγονος … τῶν θεῶν) that indicates the same "essence" (οὐσία).⁶⁷ Evidently, this position is closer to that of Plutarch and Porphyry: for all these Platonists the divine has been revealed in diverse languages, which is why it can be revered by diverse names. Iamblichus, on the other hand, impugns the equivalence of the Hellenic and barbarian sacred discourses: he has Abamon argue that the latter is far more powerful than the former.

On the whole, Iamblichus not only spurns Hellenocentrism, but also displays a fairly unique commitment to the value of barbarian culture.⁶⁸ Already the Middle Platonists had reinvigorated the old topos of the compatibility of ancient foreign traditions with Greek philosophy.⁶⁹ However, Iamblichus is prepared to push the argument about the priority of the barbarians quite far.⁷⁰ In De vita Pythagorica, for example, he has Thales reveal (2.12) to Pythagoras that the founder of Greek philosophy had received his wisdom from the priests at Memphis and Diospolis,⁷¹ whereas Pythagoras is suggested (29.158) to owe geometry to Egypt, knowledge of numbers to Phoenicia, and astronomy to Egypt as well as Chaldea.⁷² Similarly, in De communi mathematica scientia, Pythagorean mathematics is said (21.66.17–67.2) to have been inspired not only by Thales, but also by the Egyptians, Assyrians, and Chaldeans.⁷³ Finally, in De anima, Iamblichus regularly favors the views of the ancients over those of Greek philosophers, Platonists and Pythagoreans included.⁷⁴ Suffice it to mention here his discussion (43.5–10) of the ends of purification: when criticizing those who "are not persuaded by the ancients" (οὐ πείθονται τοῖς ἀρχαιοτέροις), Iamblichus lumps together "many Platonists and Pythagoreans" (πολλοὶ Πλατωνικοὶ καὶ Πυθαγόρειοι) as erroneously emphasizing only the lower forms of purification.⁷⁵ All this shows that Iamblichus espouses a far more charitable view of barbarian wisdom than Plutarch.

It will not be an exaggeration to say that Iamblichus is a φιλοβάρβαρος in Plutarch's sense of the term (see De Her. mal. 12.857A). In De mysteriis, he has Abamon contend that the gods have chosen the Egyptians and other barbarians, to whom they have revealed their sacred names, symbols, and rites. These are not only antecedent to all others, but they also mirror the gods' δημιουργία. Iamblichus's entire project of θεουργία pivots on the assumption that there is a sacred ritual which—as Abamon clarifies in the first book of his lengthy reply to Anebo (21.65.4–5)—"imitates the order of the gods" (μιμεῖται δὲ τὴν τῶν θεῶν τάξιν). Importantly, this ritual not only employs symbols but is itself a symbol. Thus, the sacredness of barbarian (i.e., Egyptian and Assyrian/Chaldean) names, symbols, and rites derives from their unique ontological status: according to Abamon, they are extensions of the divine, which is why they are most suited for religious ceremonies and become the prototype for the salvific project of theurgy.

De mysteriis reflects an interesting shift in the concept of askesis in the postclassical period: away from the ideal of continual, slow and laborious progress towards virtue, and towards the notion of a more mystical, sudden revelatory experience of the divine.⁷⁶ Plutarch is very cautious about the possibility of reaching the divine in this world. Indeed, he says explicitly (78.382F) that the souls of men have no "participation with the god" (μετουσία τοῦ θεοῦ) as long as they are imprisoned in the body with all its passions. Plutarch admits the possibility of achieving some vision of the divine's presence through philosophy, but also believes that true contemplation can occur only after death.⁷⁷ Iamblichus, on the other hand, is far more optimistic, as he offers the theurgist the opportunity to rise above the merely human and become divine in the earthly realm. His soteriological project of θεουργία enables men—as Abamon famously puts it (4.2.184.1–6)—to "assume the mantle of the gods" (τὸ τῶν θεῶν σχῆμα περιτίθεσθαι). While this bridging of the rift between the human and the divine is achieved through decoding the sacred symbols,⁷⁸ Abamon specifies that these symbols must be non-Greek (see above).

Given his account of the genesis and purpose of barbarian discourse, it is understandable why Iamblichus vehemently repudiates (7.5.257.8–11) the idea of rendering any foreign names into Greek: when "translated" (μεθερμηνευόμενα) these sacred names lose not only their original "meaning" (διάνοια) but also their original "power" (δύναμις). Thus, Hellenization of barbarian discourse is wrong because its power is inextricably connected to its form. Towards the end of the book, Iamblichus similarly stresses (259.6–7) that also prayers lose their power, as they are modified through the "inventiveness" (καινοτομία) and "lawlessness" (παρανομία) of the Hellenes. As his salvific project builds on the idea that certain cultures have a privileged access to the divine, Abamon harshly condemns those philosophers who (like Plutarch or Porphyry) think that names, prayers, symbols, and rites are conventional and therefore essentially interchangeable from culture to culture. Accordingly, he concludes with the diagnosis (259.7–13) that the Greeks have lost contact with the gods through the flaws of their national character: the Hellenes "by nature" (φύσει) are "innovative" (νεωτεροποιοί), which is why they remold everything "in accordance with [their] unresting linguistic ingenuity" (κατὰ τὴν ἄστατον εὑρεσιλογίαν), whereas the barbarians are "constant" (μόνιμοι) in their customs and remain "steadfastly" (βεβαίως) with the same words, which is why they are "dear" (προσφιλεῖς) to the gods.

From his Egyptophile perspective, Iamblichus castigates the Greeks for their variability and insatiable taste for novelty, which he contrasts sharply with the stability and faithfulness of the Egyptians and other barbarians. Abamon's censure of the Hellenes for their being addicted to innovation echoes Plato's criticisms of the Greeks' craving for novelties (see, e.g., Leg. 656d1–657b8 or 797a7–c9). Iamblichus adduces this philosophical topos, as he joins the common debate on the appropriateness of translating the sacred discourse (see, e.g., Or. Chald. Fr. 150 or Orig. C. Cels. 1.24–25). It is therefore important to note here that Abamon's condemnation is leveled not only against Porphyry. Indeed, Polymnia Athanassiadi has convincingly argued that Iamblichus targets rather "toute une 'ecole' d'intellectuels."⁷⁹ Thus, Porphyry merely personifies the broader trend of Hellenization and the sort of cultural appropriation that thinkers like Plutarch indulge in. Iamblichus has Abamon diagnose that it is precisely because of such misguided practices that Greek customs and cult have lost their power: the barbarians, on the other hand, protect their cultural foundation, which is why they are close to the gods. Although it cannot be proved that Iamblichus engages here in a direct polemic with Plutarch, it cannot be ruled out completely either.⁸⁰ Undoubtedly, Plutarch's dismissal of the significance of barbarian nomenclature and his willingness to substitute Greek names for Egyptian ones (see above) are hardly palatable for Iamblichus. Also, it is very telling that Plutarch offers a diametrically opposed assessment of the Egyptians' nature. When criticizing Egyptian zoolatry, he observes (72.380A) that the Egyptians "by nature" (φύσει) are "light-hearted" (κοῦφοι) and "easily prone to change and innovation" (πρὸς μεταβολὴν καὶ νεωτερισμὸν ὀξύρροποι). Thus, while Iamblichus considers the Greeks to be all too "innovative" (νεωτεροποιοί) by nature, Plutarch finds "innovation" (νεωτερισμός) to be the national flaw of the Egyptians. These divergent appraisals of the Egyptians' character sit well with the contrasting evaluations of Egyptian symbols that the two Platonist priests put forward.

CONCLUSIONS

We can now return to the two questions posed at the beginning of this paper: (1) why do Plutarch and Iamblichus subject the same Egyptian symbols to different allegorical treatment? and (2) what is the discrepancy between the two interpretations indicative of?

With regard to the first question, we should note that the two Platonists ascribe different values to Egyptian symbols. For Plutarch, symbols basically have a heuristic function: they can guide the soul towards the divine, but they can also allure away from it. Thus, Plutarch interprets the lotus flower and the sun boat "physically," as he discovers an essential similarity between these symbols and the theological doctrines of the Stoics. From his perspective, Egyptian symbols can be useful when they are examined critically and philosophically. However, they may also lead the soul astray to impiety when they are construed according to materialist theology. Iamblichus, on the other hand, interprets the lotus flower and the sun boat "metaphysically," as he reveals their basic agreement with the major tenets of Neoplatonic philosophy. For him, these symbols have an anagogical power: they can awaken the soul and elevate it to the gods because they are direct extensions of the highest reality. However, barbarian (i.e., Egyptian and Assyrian/Chaldean) symbols can unite human beings with the divine only if they are not tampered with. Thus, while Plutarch eagerly Hellenizes Egyptian sacred discourse, Abamon strongly objects to its sacredness being defiled by Hellenization. All in all, then, Plutarch views Egyptian symbols as accidental to salvation, whereas Iamblichus insists that barbarian symbols instantiate the divine discourse and are, therefore, essential to the soteriological project of theurgy.

With regard to the second question, we should observe that the discrepancy between the allegorical interpretations offered by the two Platonist priests points to a major change in the view of the role of (Greek) philosophy and (Egyptian) ritual in one's pursuit of the divine. Both Plutarch and Iamblichus highlight priestly aspects of their identity, make claims to ritual expertise and contrast their sacerdotal authority with the ignorant masses. However, Plutarch is careful not to undermine the primacy of Greek philosophy over the Egyptian cult. His position uniquely combines universalism with Hellenocentrism: on the one hand, all names, symbols, myths, and rites are merely sensible hints at the divine (as divinity transcends language, nation, and culture), but, on the other hand, everything valuable is traced back to the Hellenes (unacceptable myths or practices are simply dismissed as barbaric). Thus, Greek and Platonic philosophy is the benchmark against which Egyptian religion is scrutinized. Contrary to this, Iamblichus is more ecumenical: he seeks to harmonize Hellenic Platonism with Eastern religious traditions because he embraces a more favorable view of barbarian wisdom than Plutarch. Iamblichus adopts the guise of an Egyptian priest because from his barbarophilic perspective Eastern ritual practices and Greek philosophy perfectly complement each other. Hence, Plutarch's and Iamblichus's contrasting accounts of Egyptian symbols reflect a shift from contemplative to theurgic Platonism.