shows us that the
relationship between ruler and ruled in ancient Babylonia was akin to that of master and slave.
At the beginning of the poem, Gilgamesh is presented as a cruel and vicious tyrant, almost
psychopathic in his utter contempt for human life and dignity. Yet the subjects who groan under
the lash of his despotic rule have no choice but to yield to their king's wishes. Gilgamesh is
an absolute ruler: what he says, goes. All that his oppressed subjects can do is cry out to the
gods for divine assistance. But as Gilgamesh is himself two-thirds god, it's not surprising that
their desperate pleas go unanswered for so long.
Kingship is given to us in
the poem as being divinely sanctioned. Gilgamesh owes his exalted position to the gods, and he
answers to them, not his subjects. Though Gilgamesh's behavior is utterly deplorable, there's
nothing in the least bit strange about it. Babylonian rulers were virtual gods and could do
pretty much as they pleased. The notion of a monarch constrained by law and custom simply didn't
exist at that time.
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