I Have My Eye On You: The Evil Eye in Antiquity

Posted on Updated on

Nazar

Here in Turkey there are several things that leave to a foreigner’s attention: the awful driving, shameless staring, psychic rabbits, and what I used to think was the Evil Eye. Well as interesting as psychic bunnies are, from a historical perspective I would like to take a moment to tell you about Nazars, or what foreigners often call the Evil Eye.

Roman charms to ward off the evil eye

The evil eye is a look which is believed to cause harm and bad luck to the person it is directed at. It is a look of envy, dislike and ill-will and everywhere in Turkey you see charms, ‘Nazars’, to ward off this evil eye. The evil eye is a concept which is believed in many countries in the middle east and around the world. The Arabs know it as عين الحسود (ayn al-hasud), the Greek as το μάτι, and the Spanish as mal de ojo. Its significance in these cultures can vary widely but essentially it is the same, an evil wish against someone without their knowing which can cause bad-luck and needs to be protected against. Truthfully these Nazars have become a highly popular tourist item so we see hundreds of the everywhere in shops, but you also see them in homes, behind counters, in local jewellery and in rural non-tourist areas.

The evil eye has been a belief from as far back as Classical antiquity. There are mentions of it in Hesiod, Plato, Diodorus Siculus, Aulus Gellius, Pliny the Elder, Theocritus and Plutarch to name but a few of the hundreds of references made in the ancient literature. All these sources express the idea of the evil eye in slightly differing and often fragmentary terms but the basis for our understanding of the ancient belief comes from Aristophanes, Athenaeus, Plutarch and Heliodorus. Plutarch attempts to explain the evil eye in scientific terms by relating it to deadly rays and poisoned darts from the inner recesses of a person who possesses the evil eye. Different areas of the Greek and Roman world looked at the evil eye differently and with certain degrees of fear and trepidation. The people of Pontus and Scythia were particularly thought to possess the evil eye and were to be kept wary about. And Alexander the Great himself is believed to be the transmitter of the belief into the East with his influential campaigns in the fourth century BC.

Among references are:

Demosthenes, On the Crown 18.307: It was not his duty to look with an evil eye upon a man who had made it his business to support or propose measures worthy of our traditions, and was resolved to stand by such measures; nor to treasure vindictively the memory of private annoyances. Nor was it his duty to hold his peace dishonestly and deceptively, as you so often do.

Plato, Phaedo 95b: “My friend,” said Socrates, “do not be boastful, lest some evil eye put to rout the argument that is to come. That, however, is in the hands of God. Let us, in Homeric fashion, charge the foe and test the worth of what you say. Now the sum total of what you seek is this: You demand a proof that our soul is indestructible…”

Fredrick Thomas Elworthy wrote an interesting piece published in 1895 entitled ‘The Evil Eye’. Elworthy examines the power of evil working upon an object it beholds. He tells us that the origin of the belief itself is lost in the obscurity of prehistoric ages and while one may coin it as superstition, it is a belief that holds its sway over the people of many countries and must be set down as one the hereditary and instinctive convictions of mankind.

The evil eye has become more than mere superstition, but a tradition transmitted from antiquity when they used to use phallic symbols as one way of warding it off. The oldest testimonies of the eye in antiquity come from monuments in ancient Egypt. The Egyptians are believed to have believed in and dreaded the evil eye which was ever present. Elworthy points to evidence for this in the mythology of Ptah the Opener. He explains that Ptah brought forth all other gods from his eye and men from his mouth instituting the idea that that which emanates from the eye in the most potent.

About these ads

10 thoughts on “I Have My Eye On You: The Evil Eye in Antiquity

    barefootmeg said:
    August 29, 2012 at 1:16 am

    Hmmm, if phallic symbols could ward off the evil eye, does that imply that it was mostly women who had the evil eye? *turns to glare at something and see if it suddenly disintegrates*

    GraecoMuse responded:
    August 29, 2012 at 1:48 pm

    haha you have the power!
    It was actually interesting while i was in Turkey that on more than one occasion a shop owner would accuse me of having the power of the evil eye because I have really blue eyes. Very odd :)

    [...] were ancients so afraid of the evil eye? (GraecoMuse via Rogue [...]

    GraecoMuse Turns One « GraecoMuse said:
    October 13, 2012 at 12:52 am

    [...] I Have My Eye On You: The Evil Eye in Antiquity – 29/08/12 [...]

    Evil Eyes Part I « pattytmitchell said:
    October 30, 2012 at 12:18 am

    [...] I Have My Eye On You: The Evil Eye in Antiquity (graecomuse.wordpress.com) [...]

    Aristotelis Koskinas, Tourist Guide said:
    November 6, 2012 at 11:24 am

    Allow me one small correction: the Nazars (or Μάτια, or Hands of Fatima, etc) are not depictions of the evil eye. Instead they are amulets worn to ward of the evil eyes’ influences.
    Such eyes are very old, and date from as back as the bronze age (at least in Greece where they were painted on ships, shields, etc). Their purpose was to scare away the evil stare by painting an even scarier one.
    Blue eyes were scary because they were rare around the mediterranean where they reminded people of the whitish eyes of the blind (a common and dreaded affliction in the days before modern medicine). An eye that appears blind but can see is surely something to be feared if one is riddled by superstitions.
    It follows that if blue eyes have the power to harm, one had better get some of their own to fight them off. That is why all “eyes” sold today in shops are blue.
    Another theory suggests that the blue color came to be associated with these amulets after the introduction of copper sulfate in farming, due to the impression caused by its effectiveness – if that magic blue dust could ward off the worst blights a farmer feared, then why not other evils too?
    I have no evidence to support either of these theories, but they’re interesting nonetheless, don’t you think?

      GraecoMuse responded:
      November 6, 2012 at 11:28 am

      ooh yes, nice addition, thank you.
      I didn’t get as much attention as I could of in Turkey being a foreign female because where I was staying several of the men wouldn’t look at me simply because I have piercingly blue eyes.

    Aristotelis Koskinas, Tourist Guide said:
    November 6, 2012 at 11:42 am

    I have the same problem! Dark sunglasses work wonders.
    On the gender issue I suggest that when in Turkey, do as the Turks do. I’ve discovered (by observing women I escorted) that if a woman adopts a modest attire – of a kind that blends in with what other women wear in the area – it helps a lot in her becoming accepted. Having a husband/brother/father figure around sure helps too. Single unaccompanied women may be considered easy (opening the way to verbal attacks or worse) or disgusting (to be avoided like lepers). Tough being a woman in those parts.

      GraecoMuse responded:
      November 6, 2012 at 11:48 am

      Yes you are quite correct. I where modest attire anyway so that wasn’t an issue but because I have flaming red hair too then attention always came my way. I observed the practice of ignoring for the first few weeks and realised it made little difference. In the last weeks I just went ‘stuff it’ and started giving them death stares, a modern woman who didn’t suffer rubbish scared them beyond belief and life was better. I don’t suggest doing this to anyone but if you are a foreign woman in rural Turkey you will get a lot of attention. Do what you are comfortable with and find what works for you. I am apparently just a scary person.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s