The Case for Týr = Mitra
The Case for Týr = Mitra: Part 1 of 4
Georges Dumezil, in his Mitra-Varuna, makes a case in passing for the identification of the Norse god Týr with the Vedic god Mitra. This case is brief, but is a central pillar of the overall argument of his book. Týr, for Dumezil, makes up the “Mitra” half of the paradigmatic duad of Mitra-Varuna. However, though very influential, the argument is controversial and far from universally accepted, primarily due to the scanty actual evidence we have which depicts or describes Týr in the primary mythological sources and material archaeology. Specifically, there is a common objection that Dumezil has stretched the evidence too much and has invented a character for Týr to fit his structural theory which the evidence does not actually warrant. However, the idea that the case is based on nothing could be classed as uncharitable at best, ignorant of the details at worst. The evidence for Týr's equivalence should be laid out and carefully reassessed. What is the whole of the case for Týr = Mitra?
As the scholar William Reaves summarizes Dumezil's stance: "Georges Dumezil, recognizing the inherent problem with the linguistic argument in the 1950s, embraced DeVries' tripartiate theory, emphasizing the function of gods over their names, thereby equating *Tiwaz and Odin with the Hindu gods Mitra and Varuna, whom, he saw as fulfilling first function roles of lawgiver and king" (Reaves, Odin's Wife, 171). He goes on to quote Dumezil's argument on this score, in which Dumezil points to the fact that "there are reasons for deriving Týr and Zio rather from *deiwo-, the generic Indo-European name for the gods," and criticizes the connection of Týr to Father Sky by saying "these consequences are founded on a simplistic and erroneous interpretation of this equation, and more generally on a false conception of the role and prerogatives of linguistics in such matters," concluding that "The agreeable phonetic conformity of Zeus, Jupiter, and Dyauh, precious to the linguist, does not carry the mythologist very far. He quickly notices that the first two gods and the third do not in the least do the same things" (Dumezil, Gods of the Ancient Northmen, 37). Many today agree that, despite the fact that all of these words may have originally been in some way related terms, this says nothing at all about Norse Týr ever having any direct relation to a word meaning "sky," or a sky function of any kind.
Dumezil's starting point, instead, is the idea that Vedic Mitra arose as the embodiment of the contract itself, and may originally have been considered a god of contracts and oaths (which others have also connected to his association with heavenly light). Dumezil details how Antoine Meillet first developed this thesis in 1907 (see Mitra-Varuna, p. 67), and explains the connection between the concepts of the "contract" and the "friend" which are often seen to surround Mitra. Dumezil theorizes that this identification of Mitra as god of contracts connects him to the main scene surviving in the Norse mythology which features Týr. This scene is the binding of the wolf Fenrir and the loss of Týr's hand. In order to convince Fenrir to submit to its magical binding, Týr places his right hand into the wolf's mouth as supposed surety of the Aesir's promise not to trap him. Thus we have the enactment of a contract between the parties, an agreement that the wolf will allow himself to be bound, with Týr's hand given as a gesture backing up the promise of the Aesir that they will not act duplicitously toward the wolf. Týr's right hand is given, a strong symbol as it is the hand that is always given during a contract or oath, the hand of open dealing, honesty, as well as justice. When the Aesir are revealed to have tricked the wolf, he devours this hand in response. Thus, the loss of the god's right hand, as Dumezil implies, symbolizes the hobbling of justice and righteousness in the present age, connected with the tricky legalism of the existing system of justice. If Týr is a god of contracts or of Justice more generally, then his missing right hand would symbolize the breakdown of the operation of Justice within the society. Indeed, it is said pointedly of Týr that he “is not at all a peacemaker among men.” Why would this need to be pointed out of this god specifically, unless this fact had particular negative weight relating to his supposed positive function? Dumezil claims that this reflects the way the operations of the judiciary system was seen at this point in Germanic society, as by no means creating peace. Loki specifically needles Týr on this point in Lokasenna, saying "you can't be the right hand of justice among the people" without his right arm, which would make no sense if Týr hadn't been the right hand of justice among the people to begin with.
Not only does this episode in itself form a strong case that Týr's function had something to do with contracts and the tricky legalism of the judiciary system, but we can also identify an episode extremely similar to it in content if not in form in an event in the story of the incarnation of Vedic Mitra, Yudhishthira. During the Kurukshetra War, the protagonist heroes the Pandavas need to achieve the death of the opposition's deadly and wise general Drona. In order to do this, Yudhishthira, until this point a paragon of virtue and justice, has to participate in a deceptive half truth. The Pandavas know that it is impossible to defeat Drona while he is armed, so they hatch a plan to disarm him. Thus they decide to kill an elephant bearing the same name as Drona's son, Ashvatthama. When he hears rumor of "Ashvatthama"'s death, Drona seeks out Yudhishthira specifically, due to the fact that he is known as a paragon of honesty (just as Týr specifically is the one trusted by Fenrir to give him an honest surety) and asks if it is true that Ashvatthama has been killed. To this Yudhishthira responds with a statement true in content, but deceptive in its enactment: “Ashvatthama is dead. But the elephant and not your son,” he says, but Krishna instructs loud trumpets to be blown during the second part of the statement, and thus Drona only hears the affirmation and not the clarification, resulting in him believing that his son has perished. Thus he descends from his chariot and lays down his arms in meditation and grieving. The Pandava Dhristadyumna seizes the opportunity to avenge the death of his father, and kills Drona. As a result of this event, it is said that Yudhishthira's chariot, which had ridden at a four-finger height off the ground, symbolic of his absolute truthfulness and justice, dropped to the ground and no longer floated thenceforth. Týr's missing right hand of righteousness would then be identical to Yudhishthira's no longer floating chariot of truth in this interpretation, while the deceived and trusting Fenrir would be a functional match to the deceived and trusting Drona. Dumezil failed to make the connection between these two very similar episodes, and we must assume that this was because, in the Indian case, it must be admitted that Yudhishthira's action does not relate in any clear way to a concept of contracts or oaths, and so is not clearly “functional” in the sense Dumezil cared about. However, the connecting thread of the violation of truthfulness via a technicality in order to deceive and disarm a powerful opponent, and the resulting conspicuous visible loss of the very symbol of that truth or righteousness, seems to be a strong enough through-line to say that these episodes may be from the same ultimate original myth, with the contract aspect emphasized in one version and the truthfulness aspect emphasized in the other. A final possible support to this parallel is the fact that it is Menelaus of the Greek Iliad, who we have already demonstrated falls fully in line with the Mitraic "Lawful Sovereign" archetype, who is the one who is said to bind the shapeshifting seer god Proteus at one point with chains until he tells Menelaus that the gods are angry and desire sacrifice. The episode is much less fleshed out and morally weighted in the specific ways that the other scenes discussed are; however, the fact that we once again have a Lawful Sovereign archetype binding or incapacitating another supernatural opponent, provides one small piece of evidence that is at least imagistically striking and consistent.
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The Case for Týr = Mitra: Part 2 of 4
He extrapolates this further by pointing out that there was a continuity in the Germanic culture between war and judicial proceedings. According to Dumezil, war was seen through a judicial lens, as a kind of trial before the gods, surrounded by legalistic framings and enactments. Thus Dumezil asks us to imagine the Germanic judicial and martial arenas as unified and reigned over in at least one dimensionality by a single god. Dumezil does clarify that Óðinn is the primary god of war in the other martial dimension, the magico-religious aspect of war. Furthermore, Dumezil points out that an assembly was known to be held at place named for Týr, Tislund in Zealand. While perhaps a vague and questionable piece of evidence, we should not simply discount the idea that a central place of assembly might bear the name of a god of assemblies.
Complicating this pillar of the argument, however, is the fact that the inscriptions to “Mars Thincsus” are so indeterminate. It is in fact not agreed upon whether Thincsus even refers to the Thing, and other possibilities have been brought forth. Nor is it known what aspect of Mars this Romanization is here drawing a connection to. One would assume it was his war aspect, but Mars has other well-known aspects, including an agricultural one. And many gods, not only the primary god of oaths, are known to have had oaths given to them. Indeed, each part of the Mars Thincsus case can be taken apart and questioned, as there simply isn't enough supporting material to bring it to an absolutely definitive conclusion one way or the other. Even so, most critics will also agree that nothing has truly disproven the identification of Mars Thincsus with Týr, nor has any alternative interpretation dislodged this identification as the most complete or most widely favored. Still, we simply can't say with certainty who Thincsus was.
While the Prose Edda tends not to be given as much weight as the Poetic Edda by scholars invested in the delineation of the primary myths, being a retelling of the primary poetic myths at a later date, it cannot be said that there is no reference to Týr as a martial god in a general sense, at least in this younger, prose Edda. In the Gylfaginning of the Prose Edda Snorri affirms that Týr is
most daring, and best in stoutness of heart, and has much authority over victory in battle; it is good for men of valor to invoke him. It is a proverb that he is Týr-valiant, who surpasses other men and does not waver. He is wise, so that it is also said, that he that is wisest is Týr-Prudent. (Prose Edda, Gylfaginning)
For whatever reason, Snorri believed that Týr had not little, but “much” authority over victory in battle, that valiant warriors indeed invoked him, and that it was seen as good and proper for them to do so. Clearly, Snorri viewed Týr as some sort of significant war-related god, for it is not an insignificant god or a god unrelated to the martial that will have any authority over battle victory, let alone “much” authority over it. Furthermore, the other attributes of Týr here mentioned paint a complex picture of the god, one which begins to be reminiscent of the complex and sometimes paradoxical character of Yudhishthira-Mitra. Not only is Týr said to be daring and an authority in battle victory, but he is also wise and prudent, the traits of a good Brahmin (who themselves oversaw judicial proceedings, requiring prudence and wisdom in that sphere as well), just as Yudhishthira balances his wise and prudent character with the decisive actions in battle that bring the war to a close, such as the killing of the general Shalya with his legendary spear (which itself parallels again Lugh's bringing the war to a close by killing Balor with his sling or spear). Týr's characteristic of not wavering is also not in the least insignificant, as Yudhishthira is known specifically as one who is able to stay so calm and unwavering that only he is capable of facing Shalya in battle. Yudhishthira's very name means "firm/stable in battle" (from युध् - (yudh), meaning “1. to fight, battle” and थिर - (sthir) stable, steady,"), while Menelaus' means "the steadfastness (of the people) in battle" (from Μένω - (ménō), meaning “I stay, wait (in battle)” (with the sub-variations “1. I stand fast”), and lāós, meaning“people”). For a war god, prudence is not the first trait that comes to mind, hence it would be fairly coincidental for Týr and Yudhishthira each to have this same rare signature combination of characteristics. While the equations of names in the days of the week themselves should be questioned, it is not without significance that Týr was identified with Mars in the Germanization of the Roman weekdays. Martis became Tiwesdæg (Tuesday) in the Anglo-Saxon world, for example, suggesting that the people of the time indeed saw some important similarity between Mars and Týr/Tiw which they chose to enshrine in their calendar. Even the modern Dutch and German names for Tuesday reflect the day’s enduring association with the Thing, called Dinsdag in Dutch and Dienstag in German, meaning either “Day of Thingsus” or “Day of the Thing.”
From our own comparative researches into the Indo-European epic tradition and mythologies we can add certain other supports for the general case of Týr = Mitra. First of all, one of the central myths that one discovers when looking at the various branches of the Indo-European epics, specifically the Celtic, the Greek, and the Vedic, is the fact that the “Mitra” or "Lawful Sovereign" figure is always made a cuckold, and this usually motivates an important revenge plot and sometimes the Great War itself. This theme is seen most clearly in the figure of Greek Menelaus. In the central plot line of the Iliad, Menelaus is cuckolded by Paris, who steals Helen away and takes her to Troy. Menelaus then must duel Paris, and finally concludes, after being wounded in the abdomen and healed, by killing Helen's second foreign husband, Deiphobus, after Philoctetes finishes Paris off. In the Welsh myth the Greek plot is paralleled most closely, with Lleu cuckolded by Gronw Pebr, who plots with Lleu’s wife Blodeuwedd to kill Lleu. Lleu receives a mortal wound in the abdomen and then, after being healed, concludes by killing Gronw. Irish Lugh is cuckolded by Cermait with his wife Buach, and then hunts Cermait down and kills him. In revenge, Cermait's sons seek out Lugh and kill him. The Vedic version is less of a clear cuckolding, yet Yudhishthira clearly does lose his wife to set off the war, in close parallel to Menelaus. Specifically, Yudhishthira gambles away his wife Draupadi during his dice match with Yudhishthira, in which he also loses his kingdom. As a result Draupadi becomes the slave of Duryodhana. However, after she endures a lengthy humiliation and series of insults at court, king Dritharashtra, father of Duryodhana, finally allows Draupadi to go free and return to Yudhishthira and the other Pandavas. Thus the loss of the Lawful Sovereign's wife, and its role as one of the chief inciting actions for the war that follows, remains intact in the Indian epic; however, though the Kauravas attempt unsuccessfully to disrobe Draupadi, she never is shown to commit adultery.
Now, it must be said that the consistency we find in the other branches of the Mitraic figure or Lawful Sovereign being cuckolded suggests that the Indian version may simply have been cleaned up, presented in a more conservative fashion by removing the actual adultery, or that the Indian poets simply had developed too much respect for this god or this goddess to depict him as cuckolded by her. In any case, it is by no means a stretch to see Yudhishthira losing Draupadi into slavery as carrying the same meaning as the cuckolding of the other gods of his archetype. What this brings us to is the fact that Týr too is significantly singled out by Loki as having been cuckolded, and cuckolded by Loki himself. “Shut up, Týr, my son came from your wife. And you haven't been paid a penny or an ell of cloth as recompense for this, you rat," Loki says in Lokasenna. It must be pointed out here that Duryodhana, who wins Draupadi from Yudhishthira in the dice game, is said to be the incarnation of the Demon of the Last Age, also known as Kali. He is the driving demonic force which opposes the heroes of society in the Kurukshetra War. Likewise, Dumezil points out that Loki, in several places, including the scene of the death of Baldr, fills this “Kali” role in the Norse mythos (Gods of the Ancient Northmen). Further, Duryodhana's close partner in war, the incarnation of the sun god, Karna, mocks Draupadi after she has been lost in the dice game, and specifically calls her “unchaste,” just as Loki mocks and accuses Freyja for promiscuity. We have shown how in other branches this Demon of the Last age and Sun God are often blended together, elements switched around between them, or are even combined into one figure. In the Greek and Celtic branches, it is typically a Sun God who cuckolds the Lawful Sovereign, while in the Indian epic it is the closely associated Demon who wins her and the Demon and Sun God who together insult and humiliate her. Thus, Loki mocking Freyja and Týr, the one for being promiscuous and the other for being cuckolded, actually matches extremely well the words of Duryodhana and Karna of the Mahabharata. Indeed, it may even be possible to understand Loki's cryptic claim that “you haven't been paid a penny or an ell of cloth as recompense” if read in this light. Yudhishthira literally loses Draupadi for nothing, and is payed nothing in recompense, as Draupadi becomes Duryodhana's slave. Karna rubs this point in by telling Draupadi to choose another husband from the servants' quarters as they will not gamble her away as Yudhishthira has done. This barb is not far off from Loki's, as both seek to cruelly drive in the point of how foolishly and completely the Mitraic figure has lost his wife outright and with nothing in return.
Freyja's mockery by Loki as promiscuous, and the possibility that she occupies the same central position that Draupadi does, combined with the facts of Freyja’s husband “Óðr” being a mysterious figure and Týr's adulterous wife being left unspecified, opens up a possibility of seeing Freyja and Týr as spouses, a possibility lacking other concrete supports indeed, but too tantalizing not to commit to a close examination. Of course, Menelaus and Lleu are both said to be traveling to their maternal grandfather’s when their wives have their adulterous affairs, while Freyja’s husband is said always to be traveling, leaving her to weep for his absence. The closeness of the names Óðr and Óðinn would then reflect the close connection of the Mitra and Varuna gods, showing onomastically their character of being like two sides of a coin. After all, the Satapatha Brahmana delineates the contrast between Mitra and Varuna in this way: “Mitra and Varuna, forsooth, are... intelligence and will” (Satapatha Brahmana, IV.1.4). One of the meanings of Óðr, besides “frenzied,” is “mind” (as a noun in Old Norse this is indeed its first definition, a fact badly ignored in relation to this question, and it can be seen with the meaning of soul or mind in Voluspa 18.1) just as Mitra is called the "intelligence" and Týr is a by-name for the prudently wise. And this association of Mitra with the mind appears repeatedly throughout the Vedic texts. In the “frenzied” or “raging” sense, Týr does not show much in his extant myths, but the Mitraic Lugh certainly does, as does Yudhisthira when he is excited with wrath. The Iranic Mithra too has a raging side, the Avesta saying “Oh! may we never fall across the rush of Mithra, the lord of wide pastures, when in anger!” (Avesta, Mihr Yasht, 135). Týr is after all a war god. Still, it may be that Óðr signified “mind” more than “frenzy” in the Norse context, though we can't say for certain. Alternately, Óðr could of course simply be an aspect of Óðinn marking his absorption of this particular adultery myth as Óðinn came to be centralized to a greater degree over time (as always, we can propose the reverse as well, that Óðinn could instead have had this myth originally, it only being taken by the Mitraic god in the other branches). Yet there cannot be said to be much more in favor of this common hypothesis than what has been laid out in this paragraph connecting Týr and Óðr: Týr's mysterious adulterous wife for whom he was not recompensed and his mockery over this fact; the definition of Óðr as "mind" and its connection to Týr's wisdom (as well as to his possible war rage) and to Mitra as "intellect"; the general parallels in other branches. Besides a daughter with Freyja, Hnoss (and in one source her sister Gersemi), no other children of Óðr are mentioned in the sources (Menelaus, too, only has a daughter and no sons with Helen, and another Mitraic avatar, Numa Pompilius, is said by some authors to have only sired a single daughter), leading scholar Rudolf Simek to ask: if Óðr and Óðinn are identical, "why, for example, should Baldr not be mentioned?"
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The Case for Týr = Mitra: Part 3 of 4
Dumezil shows the way in which Bhaga and Aryaman develop out of the orbit of Mitra-as-god-of-social-cohesion-well-being-and-justice. Bhaga appears as the god of Destiny considered as Apportionment (of boons in particular), while Aryaman appears as the god of the flourishing of the “Aryan” people specifically, of the tribe or noble in-group society. In this constellation of figures, Aryaman takes on the role of the cupbearer of Mitra. In the epic version of this grouping, found in the Mahabharata, we have King Dhritarashtra as (per Dumezil) the proposed incarnation of Bhaga, and his brother Vidura as the proposed incarnation of Aryaman, both of whom are uncles to and advisors of the incarnation of Mitra, Yudhishthira. We should make very clear at this point that this means that the versions of these attendant gods that we find in the Mahabharata are one generation back, uncles of the proposed Mitra figure rather than his brothers, as compared to what we find in the Norse version (Týr, Höðr and Baldr being a group of three brothers instead of a nephew and two uncles). Yet Dhritarashtra and Vidura remain the two divine incarnations surrounding the orbit of both the Mitraic and the Varunian heroes, Dhritarashtra blind and Vidura “the champion of peace,” as Dumezil puts it, just as the blind Höðr and beloved Baldr are the immediate family of Týr and Óðinn. Thought of from the Norse perspective, the three brothers, Týr, Höðr, and Baldr would then express a constellation of intimately interconnected gods, who are so closely tied as — almost — to be aspects of one “Mitraic” deity, which would be one explanation of why Snorri has here made them siblings.
In support of his identification of Bhaga-Dhritarashtra with Höðr, Dumezil connects their blindness, but goes further to show how, in the scene which incites the Great War in both cases – the death of Baldr in the Norse and the dice game of Yudhishthira in the Indian – both Höðr and Dhritarashtra are put in the position of being able to stop the “Demon” figure from accomplishing his nefarious purpose, of setting the war in motion, but fail to do so. Höðr and Dhritarashtra, per Dumezil, are akin to a dam which has a chance to hold back the demonic power from breaking forth, yet which gives way at last and becomes a “blind” instrument of that power. His “only weakness [his blindness] was the cause of all their misfortune,” as Dumezil says of Dhritarashtra, and it is easy to see how this applies to Höðr as well. He calls Dhritarashtra “an image of fate,” saying that “his hesitations, his capitulations, and his decisions laden with misfortune copy the behavior of fate.” Dhritarashtra, “for a brief moment...will have the choice in the gravest of circumstances of damming up evil or letting it loose,” and, “resists, hesitates for a long time between the wise advice and honest entreaties of Vidura and the violent entreaties of his son Duryodhana. Finally, he yields...” Dumezil points out as well that the words habitually used surrounding Dhritarasthra in the poem (daiva, kala, etc.), along with his actions, repeatedly connect him to Fate and Destiny.
Of Vidura, Dumezil points out that “although he is recognized as excellent, his advice is not followed,” just as Snorri says that while Baldr passes just judgments, none of them hold or come to fruition. Furthermore, Vidura and Dhritarashtra closely collaborate with Yudhishthira in his peaceful reign after the war, a clear symbol of their close metaphysical alliance, just as Höðr and Baldr return after Ragnarok to rule together, according to Voluspa (stanza 62). And even more remarkably, Vidura is said literally to transfuse himself into Yudhishthira upon death, throwing himself into the being of Dharma-Mitra, as other figures on their deaths in the same section of the Mahabharata are said to return to the deity from which they have incarnated. Dumezil points out that Mitra and Aryaman in the Vedic hymns are intimately tied, “sometimes to the point of identity.” The epic itself claims that Vidura is a partial incarnation of Mitra (in Mahabharata called by the name Dharma or Dharmaraj) just as Yudhishthira is. Vidura is said to die in the arms of Yudhishthira and to give his power to him, explaining that each of them are parts of Dharmaraj.
Indeed, this near identity of Vidura-Aryaman and Yudhisthira-Mitra is the central key to the whole question of the relationship of Týr and Baldr, from a Dumezilian perspective, as we will see. Speaking of Vidura, Dumezil says that Yudhishthira “is almost himself,” i.e., they are almost one being. This opens up the possibility of a continuity between Norse Baldr and Týr, perhaps brothers for this specific reason, who then are seen by Dumezil as almost aspects of one deity. This allows Dumezil then to point out that Baldr's son, Forseti, is explicitly said to own a hall in which “legal disputes go away reconciled; that is the best court known to gods and men,” and to use this fact as another point in favor of Týr’s connection to the judicial sphere. From this perspective, Týr, Baldr and Forseti are all theorized in some fashion to have a connection to the operation of justice, and are placed in a continuum which is reasonably argued and supported, this proposed continuum itself in the end supporting the concept of the judicial functioning of Týr, by indirect but close association with Baldr and Forseti. Dumezil sums up the parallel between the two pivotal scenes – the death of Baldr and the dice game of Yudhishthira – by arguing that in each case there is a game that Baldr or Yudhishthira under normal conditions should be able to win, but in which, in this case, the instrument of the game has been tampered with and the adversary uses supernatural subterfuge: the dice Duryodhana uses are enchanted, and the dart Hothr throws has not sworn the oath to do no harm to Baldr, leading to the great loss and helping to incite the Great War.
From our own comparative research we can add support to this portion of the theory. In the Greek (Iliadic), the Welsh, the Irish and the Indian (Mahabharatic) cases, there is repeated some permutation of the scene in which all is lost by the Mitraic Lawful Sovereign and/or he receives a near-mortal blow. As already mentioned, Yudhishthira loses his kingdom, his wife, all his family and possessions, and is finally forced into exile due to his series of dice game losses, and later in the war receives a near-fatal wounding from Karna, having to retire from battle for a time. But it is the Welsh version of this theme which actually accords in a more obvious and striking way with the Norse death of Baldr, and is one of the most enigmatic concordances in all of mythology, as it raises the question of why the seemingly central Welsh god Lleu undergoes a fate so similar to that of the Norse god Baldr, whose myths are comparably scant.
The Welsh version of this loss/mortal wounding scene appears as follows. Lleu is known to have a tynged, a kind of spoken fate, over him, which makes him invulnerable to all attacks, just as Baldr is said to be under the protection of an oath of (nearly) all things in the world, and thus rendered (nearly) invulnerable. However, Lleu's wife Blodeuwedd becomes the adulterous lover of the hunter Gronw Pebr, and the two conspire to find out how to kill Lleu. Blodeuwedd asks Lleu how this might be accomplished, under the guise that she wants to protect him from its occurrence, and he guilelessly tells her that he can be killed, but only by fulfilling the riddling conditions of striking him while he has one foot on a goat, one on the edge of a tub of water, while he is under an eave, with a spear forged for a year only on Sundays when others are at church. He agrees to demonstrate this to his wife a year later, and Gronw, on that day, prepared with such a spear, pierces Lleu's side. Thus the magical tynged is broken and Lleu's invulnerability is subverted by the malicious scheme of his adversaries. As a result, Lleu transforms into an eagle and flies to the top of a tall tree, which seems to be a representation of the World Tree. Many interpreters here have seen this as a symbolic death, Lleu temporarily disappearing to the otherworld. It is said that "putrid flesh and vermin" fall from Lleu as he rests on that tree, further signifying his deathlike state. Eventually, Gwydion tracks him down and coaxes him down from the top of the tree, transforms him with his magic, and brings him a physician who gradually heals his wounds. Once recovered, Lleu musters all of the forces of his kingdom and pursues Gronw and Blodeuwedd, and we have previously shown how this sequence of events conforms to the narrative of the Iliad to the point of possibly being a borrowing, down to the fact that Menelaus and Lleu are both away at their maternal grandfather's when their wives commit adultery with Paris and Gronw.
In the Greek case, when the events of the Trojan War resume on the battlefield of Troy, nine years have gone by; however, one of the first sequences we are then given is the duel between Menelaus and Paris. Menelaus throws his spear through Paris' shield, just as Lleu throws his spear through the stone slab behind which Gronw hides when Lleu catches up to him. Paris, however, is rescued by Aphrodite in this case. Nonetheless, due to this duel, a truce-oath is struck between the Trojans and the Achaeans. This truce-oath (much like the truce-oath which the things of the world had sworn regarding Baldr) is then broken by the Trojan archer Pandarus. Athena (taking the Lokian role, if only for a moment), desiring the war to go on, changes her shape to that of Pandarus' comrade, and tells him to shoot Menelaus and win glory, and win the approval of Prince Paris most of all. Beguiled by Athena thus, Pandarus shoots his arrow at Menelaus; however, Athena then intercepts the arrow and guides it away from Menelaus' vitals, and safely to the belt-region of his abdomen, where it strikes a serious but non-fatal blow, allowing Menelaus to recover and return later, like the other Mitraic figures. We find that not only was Menelaus protected by a supposed truce-oath in this scene, which was transgressed through subterfuge of a wily deity, but that he was also under a broader protection of Fate and the gods and had been prophesied to survive the war and to be brought up to Elysium after the completion of his life. Further, he is manifestly protected by Athena in this scene, so that the wound that he sustains does not end up being fatal. Instead, a physician is called in by Agamemnon, just as Gwydion had called a physician for Lleu, and after a time Menelaus is healed and returns to battle, to complete his revenge on Paris and Deiphobus, as Lleu completes his on Gronw, as Yudhishthira recovers and slays Shalya.
In the Irish version, things are much vaguer, and Lugh, after killing the lover of his adulterous wife, Cermait, is killed by Cermait's sons. His death also has a magical suggestiveness to it, as he is speared through the foot and then drowned in a lake, perhaps similar to how Lleu had been speared while on the edge of a tub of water next to a river. And in Lugh's case, there exists a sense in the myths and folklore that he would return from his grave beneath the waters one day. As the Youtuber Fortress of Lugh has put it, “the Irish sources are often loath to proclaim Lug's death." For instance, in “The Phantom's Frenzy," “Lug” comes to Con saying that, despite his death, he isn't a phantom or spectre, but has come to tell Con the length of his reign.
Indeed, while Baldr is the central survivor in the Norse myth, coming back from Hel to lead the new cycle, it is Yudhishthira who is the last Pandava standing in the Indian epic. After the war, it is Yudhishthira who rules for another 37 years, as Lugh rules for 40 in the Irish version. The five Pandava brothers then embark on a pilgrimage in the Himalayas. One by one they are said to die on the journey, each one due to a different sin characteristic to them. Only Yudhishthira survives the entire pilgrimage and reaches the top of the Holy Mountain, passes the final tests, and is admitted into Paradise.
To recap: both Yudhishthira and Menelaus are admitted to Paradise at the ends of their lives after winning peace in the war and ruling well after it; Lleu dies, goes to an otherworldly tree and revives, and leads his kingdom to peace via the enactment of justice; while Lugh dies and is rumored to return eventually to do similarly for his people; and Baldr dies, goes to the underworld and then returns to be the central survivor and leader in the next presumed golden age. All of these figures are in the Lawful Sovereign/Mitra archetype, with the notable exception of Baldr (if we maintain the premise that the Norse Mitraic god may be Týr). Readers will generally acknowledge that each of these figures, besides Baldr (though he does in fact become the leader and ruler when he returns at the end), are the kings and military leaders in their kingdoms. They are central heroes or central gods, while Baldr sometimes appears evanescent, pushed to the side, and is portrayed as perhaps even too perfect to be effective in this world. Thus, if we argued merely from the weight of comparative evidence, we would expect the Mitraic Lawful Sovereign of the Norse myth to be the one to die while under a magical fate or protective oath, go to the underworld, and return to rule their people in a golden age and/or achieve Paradise. However, it is Baldr who does so in the Norse version, and not Týr. In this interpretation then, the identification of Baldr and Týr as Aryaman and Mitra, and thus as two closely connected aspects of one deific complex, becomes even more paramount. This seeming contradiction between the Norse version and the other branches is resolved if we take Baldr to be almost like an aspect of Týr, or the two gods to be so intimately connected that they are nearly identified. If we accept this series of arguments, it becomes easy to imagine how certain myths could have shifted from one to the other between these overlapping deities, whether in one direction or the other, or how the other Indo-European branches could have consolidated these myths in only a slightly different manner.
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The Case for Týr = Mitra: Part 4 of 4
There is also an important case to be made that the fathers of both Týr and Lugh are connected, which would further strengthen the argument for the identification of Týr (with Baldr) as a Mitraic deity. The scholar Thor Ewing has shown that the story of Lugh's birth, involving the infiltration of Balor's fortress by Cian and his impregnation of Balor's daughter Ethliu, matches in numerous details the infiltration of Óðinn into the mountain fortress to steal the mead of poetry while also sleeping with Gunnlǫð. Ewing explains in his essay “Óðinn and Loki Among the Celts” the several features shared between the myths of Óðinn and Cian, which are also in part shared by Welsh Gwydion, the likely father of Lleu.
As Óðinn must infiltrate the giant Suttungr's mountain fortress to regain the Mead of Poetry, so Cian must infiltrate the fortress of the giant Balar to regain the cow known as Glas Ghaibhleann. Suttungr's daughter Gunnlǫð gives the Mead of Poetry to Óðinn as Balar's daughter Eithne gives the Glas Ghaibhleann to Cian. Óðinn sleeps with Gunnlǫð as Cian sleeps with Eithne. Wages that are promised to the infiltrator (Óðinn), who has disguised himself as a worker, are not paid by Baugi as wages that are promised to the infiltrator (Cian), who has disguised himself as a worker, are not paid by Balar. Ewing further notes that in the subsequent tales, Cian's son Lleu perches on an otherworldly tree that “grows in upland ground” and has been “drenched by nine score tempests,” while Óðinn hangs from the world tree Yggdrasil for nine nights -- a mysterious correspondence that may symbolize yet another important myth that has shifted from one deity to another via close association. The fact that both the father of Lugh and the father reported by Snorri of Týr share this central infiltration myth (which even results in Lugh's birth in the Irish version) creates the possibility that the sons of both Cian and Óðinn were then the same or overlapping.
Additionally, per Ewing, while Cian follows a wandering cow, the Welsh Gwydion follows a wandering sow, and each one stands as the protective father figure to Lugh and Lleu respectively, this correspondence suggesting a greater circle of parallels between the three figures of Óðinn, Cian, and Gwydion. And the name Gwydion is believed to be the same as Gaulish "Mercury Uiducus," meaning Mercury the Woodsman or the Wise. Gwydion is a wily trickster magician figure, using his magic to create a woman out of flowers and to transform her into an owl, among other things; he is a father figure, is seen as a forerunner of Merlin, and is often compared to Óðinn.
We must reiterate that this familial connection between Óðinn and Týr mainly relies on the less reliable Prose Edda, and contradict parts of the Poetic Edda that make Týr instead the son of Hymir. However, the fact that Snorri's Prose Edda genealogy aligns so well, and so conveniently, with the Mahabharata genealogy, in the way thus far described, reinforcing the closeness of the Mitraic and Aryamanic figures, forces one to question whether Snorri was basing his genealogy on other unknown primary material or in some other way had a true understanding of the divine genealogy.
Another detail in line with such speculation is the association of the Mitraic archetype with canines. Upon Yudhishthira's ascent of the Holy Mountain, he is asked by Indra to abandon the dog which has been accompanying him thus far. Yudhishthira refuses, claiming that it is a sin to abandon an innocent and loyal animal. Upon this refusal, it is revealed that the dog was Yudhishthira's spiritual father, Dharma-Mitra, all along. The placement of this dog-loyalty motif at the end of the epic, along with the importance it is given (we are reminded as well of the companion dog repeatedly depicted alongside Roman Mithras in the widespread reliefs, Irish Lugh’s dog Failinis, and the close association of dogs with Cúchulainn, son of Lugh), has to make us think of the dog and wolf affinity associated with Týr in the Norse sources. Týr is said to be the only one courageous enough to feed the wolf Fenrir. He also gains its trust enough for the wolf to accept his hand as good surety. But even more interesting, perhaps, is that Týr also meets his end side by side with a dog. For it is said that Týr and the dog Garmr will do battle at Ragnarok, and that each will kill the other. This dog is said to howl to signal the onset of Ragnarok. Furthermore, a dog which some scholars believe to be this same Garmr is said to be met by Óðinn when he travels to Hel. Thus, Yudhishthira is tested with a dog right before entering the gates of Paradise while another dog, possibly associated with Týr, may be met at the gates of the Norse Hel. Scholars have debated whether any of these three canines — Fenrir, Garmr, and the dog of Hel —are the same or distinct. Regardless, Týr's close association with at least two of them may itself suffice as one more clue to his identity.
From these arguments, one of the first questions that should arise is: if Baldr is the god who dies, revives, and is the last survivor and leader, why then is he not the Mitraic "Lawful Sovereign"? Indeed, this possibility has to be seriously weighed. After all, Baldr is the one said explicitly to have a hall where judgments are passed and peace is sought, and to have a son whose sole function seems to be to undertake legal proceedings and to champion fairness. Much more so than Týr, Baldr and his son Forseti are straightforwardly associated with the judicial sphere in the available myths. It has also been theorized that the variation of Baldr's name, “Baldag,” may mean “bright day,” while the Mitraic god is the very god of the daylit sky.
Yet the counterarguments to the suggestion that Baldr ought to be the Mitraic god are many as well. Firstly, Baldr's judgments are said not to be effective, they do not hold despite his attempts to champion goodness, peace, and justice. This connects, as aforementioned, to Vidura, incarnation of Aryaman, whose counsels to Dhritarashtra to pursue peace and fair dealing are likewise ultimately ignored so that fate and the dark age can pursue their course unrestrained by ideal goodness. Baldr is also not a military leader, which each of the other Mitraic figures is, and which is one of the central elements of their archetype. Baldr doesn't even participate in the war of Ragnarok, but only emerges when it is finished, while Týr does battle in it as a Mitraic war god should. In addition, Baldr's description as having a brow so white that the whitest of grasses is compared to it, aligns him with the idea that, like Aryaman, he is specifically the designated god of the society of the “noble color” and of the Aryan people. Many other parallels already adduced in this article also point to Týr being the Mitraic god, most significantly perhaps the parallel of Týr's lost hand and Yudhishthira's no longer floating chariot.
It seems that, if we choose to follow Dumezil, then the simplest explanation to this is that Baldr and Týr indeed are connected deities, almost aspects of one another, or continuous in some way. From this perspective we would say that the magical invulnerability, death and resurrection motif, often seen in the Mitraic gods of other branches, was, in the Norse case, attached to Baldr (indeed the sovereignty of the "Lawful Sovereign" itself perhaps comes through more clearly in Baldr's kingship of the world after Ragnarok than in the extant myths of Týr); that the Mitraic "bright sky" association showed itself more clearly in Baldr's name as well; but that the judicial and contract-related roles were shared in some fashion between Baldr and Týr; while Týr would be said to have taken for himself the Mitraic war god role and perhaps the role of god of the Thing as well -- "a chief of assembly amongst the chiefs of assemblies" as Iranic Mithra is called. The evidence has been presented, and so the question will be decided by each interpreter.
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