The historian’s reliability is contested, but at least here we are told that the discussion of Cretan matters comes from at least four different sources (after being filtered through the writer’s own criteria of plausibility and trustworthiness): Epimenides, Dosiadas, Sosikrates, and Laosthenidas are authors whose works he presumably had at his disposal, works that have not survived except in meagre fragments. This does not exclude the possibility that the historian employed other sources as well, but he chose to mention by name only these four. It is important to consider the use of these four sources in relation to Diodorus’ entire section of the Cretan account, in which the following passage focuses on the mystery cults in Crete (5.77.3–8):

In the first century BCE, Diodorus, following his four Cretan sources, relates the Cretan opinion concerning the institution of mystery cults in Crete and in the rest of Greece, which is the most probable and trustworthy opinion according to his own criteria. Demeter’s mystery cult at Eleusis, the Kabeiria at Samothrace, and the mysteries in Thrace (whence Orpheus revealed and taught them), all three feature secret performances (μυστικῶς) under prohibitions (ἐν ἀπορρήτῳ); at Knossos, on the other hand, the rituals are performed openly (φανερῶς), and without anything being hidden from inquiring individuals (μηδένα κρύπτειν τῶν βουλομένων τὰ τοιαῦτα γινώσκειν). The historian then chooses only four divinities out of the Cretan pantheon, Demeter, Aphrodite, Apollo, and Artemis, allowing them to serve as representative cases for his statement; he concludes that he could go on and on about the other Cretan divinities, relating the stories about them he found in his Cretan sources, but he would then have created a narrative impossible to follow and conceive (παντελῶς ἀσύνοπτον).

Ian Rutherford, in his indispensable introduction to Pindar’s Paeans, has shown convincingly that paiaon in all probability arose within military or quasi-military contexts. He notes that “prophecy is of great importance in Pindar’s articulation of the παιάν” and “if more of Pindar’s Paianes survived, we might expect to find more examples of the relationship between song and prophecy.” [37] It appears that the poet of the Hymn to Apollo is trying to appropriate and integrate the paeanic activity of the Cretans into the Hymn’s narrative for the institution of the Delphic oracle, perhaps an activity antagonistic to the epic tradition and to Olympian discourse.

Pausanias is very careful in his narrative. The repetition of verbs like μνημονεύουσι, λέγεται, and φασί indicates that all of this information belongs to the sphere of tradition (not exclusively oral) which is based on what people ‘remember, say, allege.’ Even so, the names included in and excluded from this legendary proto-victors-list at the Pythia are remarkable. The games originally started as a competition of hymns sung to Apollo and the first winner who was awarded a prize in the contest was Chrysothemis, son of Karmanor who purified Apollo, a name that might also serve as the god’s epithet, the gold-themis-one. [43] After Philammon and his son Thamyris, the Thracian representatives, tradition mentioned two dissenting competitors rather than winners, none other than Orpheus and his follower Musaios. They refused to participate, because they were proud and conceited about the mysteries, which they presumably regarded as more crucial than a musical competition. Eleuther, the eponymous hero of Eleutherna and one of the Kouretes, [44] was next in this catalogue and introduced a novelty in the games: his winning the prize was completely on account of his singing performance, as the hymn he sang was composed by another poet, unlike, we may assume, the previous victors who performed their own compositions. Finally, Hesiod and Homer conclude this proto-catalogue as failures in the new contest: the former was refused admission to the competition, because he could not sing his hymn to the accompaniment of the kithara; the latter, although he had learned the new tricks of the trade, discovered the uselessness of playing the kithara, because of his blindness.

These lines by the Muses are not unique; they are also employed in Odyssean poetics. Before Odysseus/Aithon performs his third Cretan tale/lie in front of Penelope, he has an exchange with the suitors, who chastise his gaster in a manner like the Muses censure the shepherds (Odyssey 18.364 and 18.380 respectively). [74] Immediately after the tale, the poet describes Odysseus’ performance exactly as Hesiod’s Muses describe their poetry (19.203): ἴσκε ψεύδεα πολλὰ λέγων ἐτύμοισιν ὁμοῖα. Odysseus’ poetics in the Odyssey and the poetics of the Muses in the Theogony are part and parcel of the same tradition. Furthermore, Hesiod’s and Epimenides’ lives, before their divine instruction, were parallel. Both were shepherds who encountered the divine and were transformed. But unlike the Boeotian, who became a poet, the Cretan, entering a cave, became mysteriously, among other things, a poet, kathartes, founder of sanctuaries (most beloved by the gods), a diviner, and above all else a new Koures, [75] a Cretan Zeus.

Aristotle’s aside concerning the way in which Epimenides understood mantike may also be relevant to Delphi, or to any divinatory activity. Lisa Maurizio has argued convincingly that: [83]

Moreover, Plutarch calls Epimenides (Solon 12.1): θεοφιλὴς καὶ σοφὸς περὶ τὰ θεῖα τὴν ἐνθουσιαστικὴν καὶ τελεστικὴν σοφίαν, a statement best elucidated in Plato’s Timaeus and Phaedrus on mania quoted above (144–146), and in Cicero’s de divinatione (1.xviii.34). Plutarch’s enthousiastic and telestic wisdom of Epimenides, i.e. wisdom acquired through a god entering the body and through initiation rites, is explicated by Cicero’s account of the two kinds of divination, the one with and the other without art. The former relies on rational conjecture and observation (observatione, coniectura), Plutarch’s telestic wisdom; the latter on an esoteric movement of the spirit that happens while dreaming or through mania (concitatione quadam animi aut soluto liberoque motu futura praesentiunt), Plutarch’s enthousiastic wisdom. Oracles received from the casting of dice constitute a third category, because, Cicero conjectures, these too require some divine action for the dice to fall in the way they do. Cicero, however, contra Aristotle, groups Epimenides together with Bacis and the Sybil, all three being representatives of the dreaming and manic prophecy (per furorem), but at the same time, he emphasizes that all oracles, regardless of the way acquired, need their interpretes, just like poetry needs its grammatici poëtarum (philologists), whose activity thus comes very close to that of the seers, and ultimately to that of the divine spirit.

Detienne further observes similarities between the thought of Epimenides and Parmenides (both of whom stand close to this godlike state), but he also points to a major difference: [86]

And yet, Detienne’s dichotomy between magus and philosopher is neither as strong nor as categorical as his previous distinction between lethe and mnemosyne . Except for his instruction while dreaming inside the cave, Epimenides appears nowhere to be living “apart from the polis and on the periphery of society, in a revelatory sanctuary.” [87] On the contrary, he is participating, traveling, cleansing, conversing, and performing in Crete, in Athens, and probably elsewhere. Richard Martin has argued persuasively in his study of the Seven Sages that, in addition to special skill and knowledge in poetry, religious matters, and politics, there is a fourth hallmark of all the Seven Sages: performance, defined as:

Performance is by nature agonistic and therefore presupposes more than one sage competing with another, whence the group of the Seven Sages. Their tradition in Greece may be paralleled with the ones in the Babylonian epic of Gilgamesh and in the Sanskrit Vedas. [88] Indeed, it seems that the Sages’ activity, whether political, poetical-musical-philosophical, or religious, required a competitive performative approach which publicly showcased their expert opinions, opinions not always or exclusively directed against fellow-sages. This was a risky business for the emerging polis, which was trying to integrate these ‘masters of truth’ by transforming them into:

Martin also proposes, using Nagy’s (1990b:143–145) model of “Panhellenizing-internationalizing,” that:

Where do these trends of rationalizing, secularizing, hierarchizing and internationalizing-Panhellenizing within Greek poleis leave Epimenides? The Cretan presents his own poetic compositions, rivaling(?) the Homeric and Hesiodic ones, and he proposes a Cretan or Epimenidean method concerning oracles and divination. His prophetic sophia that earned him fame beyond Crete is based on astutely observing the past, especially the events’ latent dimensions which have ramifications for the present, and his intimate association with Koures may have been responsible for the proverbial “mouth of the Kouretes.” [89] This concept of divinatory practice may very well have been Epimenides’ criticism of Delphic hyperbole and propaganda, although, in all the sources, he appears to comply fully and in every detail with Delphic demands and pronouncements. That Epimenides was critical vis à vis Delphi, especially concerning the Delphic omphalos, is recorded by Plutarch (The Obsolescence of Oracles 409e–f): [90]

The famous story that Delphi is the navel of the earth, absent from the Homeric Hymn to Apollo, was decided by the meeting at the so-called omphalos of two birds flying in opposite directions, whence the oracle of Apollo. According to Epimenides’ elenchos, this story is also found wanting. There is no such thing as a middle point, an omphalos of the earth or of the sea; and even if there were, it would be visible only to gods and not mortals. The other famous stone at Delphi, related in the Theogony (497–500), is the one Rhea gave to Cronus instead of Zeus and which, after Cronus regurgitated it, was then placed at Delphi as a sema. [91] The two stories seem parallel. What is striking is that this two-hexameter-declaration constitutes Epimenides’ reply to an ambiguous and dubious oracle he received from Delphi. This is unique, as there is no other metrical response to a Delphic oracle, on account of the oracle’s ambiguity and uncertainty (which are traits of Apollo’s speech par excellence). It is clear that in his reply, the Cretan sage is posturing against and competing with the Delphic priesthood and their propaganda. [92] The omphalos story may have been an attempt at minimizing, or at severing Delphi’s Cretan connections, among which the stone/Zeus sema was an old and revered object, sanctioned by epic poetry. After all, as the story goes, [93] Epimenides was self-styled Aiakos and son of Selene, while his fellow-Cretans hailed him as the (new) Koures.

Barrett is certainly right in stressing that Hippolytos is not a vegetarian Orphic, but Theseus is using the expression as a tag rather than implying that his son is actually a follower of Orpheus. [103] Theseus does say, however, that his son is ‘acting as a bacchos.’ To Theseus’ mind, the arguments and lifestyle of Hippolytos are similar to those people whom the Athenian authors classified under the rubric ‘Orphics.’

      Φοινικογενοῦς τέκνον Εὐρώπης
      καὶ τοῦ μεγάλου Ζηνός, ἀνάσσων
      Κρήτης ἑκατομπτολιέθρου·
      ἥκω ζαθέους ναοὺς προλιπών,
5    οὓς αὐθιγενὴς στεγανοὺς παρέχει [105]   
      τμηθεῖσα δοκοὺς Χαλύβωι πελέκει 
      καὶ ταυροδέτωι κόλληι κραθεῖσ᾽
      ἀτρεκεῖς ἁρμοὺς κυπάρισσος.
      ἁγνὸν δὲ βίον τείνομεν ἐξ οὗ
10  Διὸς Ἰδαίου μύστης γενόμην,
      καὶ νυκτιπόλου Ζαγρέως βούτης [106]   
      τὰς ὠμοφάγους δαῖτας τελέσας,
      Μητρί τ᾽ Ὀρεία δᾶιδας ἀνασχὼν
      μετὰ Κουρήτων
15  βάκχος ἐκλήθην ὁσιωθείς.
      πάλλευκα δ᾽ ἔχων εἵματα φεύγω
      γένεσίν τε βροτῶν καὶ νεκροθήκας
      οὐ χριμπτόμενος, [107]   
      τήν τ᾽ ἐμψύχων
20  βρῶσιν ἐδεστῶν πεφύλαγμαι.

This is unique and extraordinary, and the opinio communis is succinctly stated by Collard, Cropp and Lee (1995:67):

And yet, the lexicon and motifs of the parodos, when compared to that of the texts on the lamellae, reveal astonishing affinities, even if they diverge in symbolism. The cypress is employed by Euripides for the construction of the most holy temple (compare Hippolytos 1252–1254), where initiatory rites of some sort take place. The ‘priests’ of the Chorus assert that they have become: mystai of Idaean Zeus after initiation; boutai of Zagreus after performing feasts of raw flesh; and bacchoi after praying with torches to the Mountain Mother among the Kouretes. These ‘priests,’ furthermore, wear white cloths, avoid polluting activities having to do with birth and death, and take care not to eat ‘living’ foods. Euripides seems to be appropriating techniques and motifs from mystery cults for his dramatic performance on stage. For at one and the same time, the members of this Chorus claim to be initiated into the mystery cults of Idaean Zeus, Dionysos Zagreus, [108] and the Mountain Mother, and they further claim to be followers of ‘Orphics’ and Pythagoreans.

Then, the Chorus enumerates Dionysos’ association with Cybele and her orgia in Phrygia (τά τε ματρὸς μεγάλας ὄργια Κυβέλας θεμιτεύων, 78–79); his double birth by Semele in Thebes and by Zeus (88–98); the newborn’s stephanosis by the Moirai, and the customs of the Thebans (99–119); and Dionysos’ connection with the Kouretes, Rhea, and (Cretan) Zeus, on account of the invention of the tympanon (120–134):

Kouretes; Zeus’ begetters; Korybantes; Phrygian and Bacchic music; Mother Rhea; Satyrs and dance—all, and much more, are brought together by Dionysos one way or another. [111] Even Orpheus joins the Dionysiac crowd in the second stasimon, but this time he plays his magical music in Pieria, another place where Dionysos left his mark. In the Bacchae, however, these references to Dionysiac teletai throughout the Greek world present only one of the Dionysiac discourses, whose emphasis concentrates on the blessings of maenadism and of becoming a bacchos during this life. [112]

Tsantsanoglou and Parássoglou preferred the latter explanation (supported by the evidence for the bull-phrase) and pointed out the lack of parallels for the ram-phrase.

      θαῦμα μέγ᾽ ἀνθρώποις | πάντων Μάτηρ προδίκνυτι: |
      τοῖς ὁσίοις κίνχρητι καὶ οἳ γον|εὰν ὑπέχονται,
5    τοῖς δὲ π|αρεσβαίνονσι θιῶν γέν|ος ἀντία πράτει. v
      πάντε|ς δ᾽ εὐσεβίες τε καὶ εὔγλωθ{ι}οι πάριθ᾽ ἁγνοὶ v
10  ἔνθεον ἐς | Μεγάλας Ματρὸς ναόν, | ἔνθεα δ᾽ ἔργα
      γνώσηθ̣᾽ ἀ|θανάτας ἄξια τῶδε ν|αῶ.

The epigram is divided either into two or three parts, as the empty spaces on the stone indicate after the verb πράτει, and after ἁγνοί. In the first case (3:3), the first three hexameters state the ways of the goddess; the latter three invite all who are “pious” and “eloquent” or “sweet to the ear” to enter the temple “pure” and learn the divine works. In the second case (3:1:2), the fourth hexameter forms the central portion of the epigram, where there is also a change from the third person of the first three hexameters to the second, while the last two hexameters form an elegiac couplet (the problematic sixth line is not a hexameter, but a pentameter). [184] The shift in metrical rhythm and in the person of the verbs is not alien to compositional techniques of funerary epigrams and of the texts on the lamellae and on the Cretan epistomia, especially B12 (no. 9 above). The Phaistian epigram therefore invites comparison with these texts, which unveils almost identical compositional techniques, but different discourses on death, as each set of texts aims at a different target. The great miracle in line 1 is picked up again in the concluding lines 10–12, where it is explicated as the god-inspired erga worth performing in this temple. The pentameter highlights the transition from the ways of the goddess in the first part to the invitation to the pious in the second and complements the shift of the verbs from third to second person.

The findings are overwhelming and more will definitely come to light, as excavations have resumed at Zominthos, a late Minoan site close to the Idaean Cave, perhaps the last stop from the north and east roads leading to the Cave. [193]

      Ἥρη παμβα[σίλεια, Δι]ὸς μεγάλου παράκ[οι]τι
      εἵλαθι κἀμὲ φύλαττε, σαόπτολι, σὸν λάτριν ἁγνόν.
      ἄρτι γὰρ ἱρὰ Διεὶ ῥ[έξ]ας Κρήτησιν ἐν ἄντροις
      Ἴδης ἐν σκοπέλοισι λάχον γέρας ἐκ βασιλῆος
5    Νήσων, τὰς πέρι πόντος ἁλίκτυπος ἐστεφάνωκε,
      ἡγῖσθαι, Πλούταρχος, ἔχων πατρὸς οὔνομα κλεινόν,
      [Οὐρανίοις] σὺμ π[ᾶσι]ν ἐμὸν βασιλῆα φύλασσε.

Ploutarchos son of Ploutarchos, the clarissimus proconsul of Achaia under Constans, has been identified by Louis Robert and Angelos Chaniotis as the praeses insularum under Julian the Apostate, who addressed to Ploutarchos a brief letter and therefore the text is dated to 361–363 CE. [204] Chaniotis has discussed the language of the inscription which employs key words: λάτριν ἁγνόν, ἄρτι ἱρὰ Διεὶ ῥέξας Κρήτησιν ἐν ἄντροις Ἴδης ἐν σκοπέλοισι, suggestive of the sacrifice and initiation in the mystery cult performed in the Cave, even at so late a date. Ploutarchos employs the epithet hagnos, which is found also in the Phaistian epigram and in the A-texts; line 1, on the other hand, is a variant of the Orphic Hymn to Hera (Hymn 16 Kern, line 2), although the epithet παμβασίλεια is employed for other female deities as well in the Orphica, all or some of whom may be understood as other identities of Magna Mater. [205] Interestingly, albeit not unexpectedly, the Samian inscription begins and ends with the same verb, φύλασσε with which the curious text on the gold foil from the Idaean Cave appears to end. Even though the verb, like the epithets above, is very common in amulets and phylacteries, the possibility that the lamella may have been incised with some other kind of text (dedicatory? hymnic?) cannot be ruled out (perhaps like the C1-text in Tables 1–2).

Nymphs gave their names to springs and cities, and in the epigraphical record of Eleutherna, they are included in treaties and in the calendar of sacrifices, as noted above. Moreover, the inhabitants’ name Satraios is also a local epithet of Apollo, attested in the oath of a fragmentary treaty dated to the third century BCE. [261] The form Σασθραῖος provides the original name of the nymph (Σάσθρα), which perhaps the grammarians changed first to Σαστραῖος and then to Σατραῖος. Satra, in all probability, should be associated with the Iranian root χšαθrα, whence the Old Persian χšαθrα- pavan and satrap, literally “kingdom/fatherland protector”; alternately, it may have originated from a form Sat(a)ra or Sat(u)ra, after syncopation, from a root Sat- (Ksat-) which meant “free, master, ruler,” or even “fatherland.” [262] If the grammarians are to be trusted, then it appears that the two names may have been understood as similar in meaning; hence the change into a Greek and more intelligible name, Ἐλεύθερνα/Ἐλευθεραί.