A visit to the gallery

Tower of Babel by Pieter Brueghel. The storyteller may have many aims here, one being the obvious—to account for the widely dispersed populations and differences in language and culture which even then existed. No-one quite knows beyond this, what the meaning of the story is. Immediately preceding this story in Genesis is a long genealogy of all the descendants of Noah. Many ziggurats were built in this period and although Mesopotamia population estimates are imprecise, it is feasible that there were enough people for there to be many tribes and languages, and enough people also in a city, to build a Tower like this one. The Tower as painted by Brueghel is extraordinarily solid, and in the process of being hewn out of a rock protruding from a flat landscape evoking a Dutch setting. There is very fine detail in the foreshore, much activity on the dock where ships are coming and going, above which are pulleys, excavation, scaffolding, horse-drawn carts, ladders and cranes. The architectural features are distinct—neat and tidy arrays of arches and facades evoking the arcades of the Colosseum. The building is massive, it dwarfs the town behind it and reaches into and beyond the clouds. It is a picture of intense industry, innovation, commitment and human endeavour. What is Brueghel trying to say? Is he simply telling the Genesis story? Is he depicting pride and hubris? It doesn't look like that in one corner where the King is visiting and the workers are bowing down. To me he might be saying that despite the ingenuity of man, all the effort and industry, these amazing constructions born of human ingenuity and industry have not lasted, sturdy as they may seem. Some scholars interpret Brueghel's Tower of Babel painting as symbolizing Rome and the challenge of Protestantism, which was gaining great popularity in the Netherlands, post-Martin Luther. Language is pertinent, as at the time the Catholic Church conducted all its services in Latin, presumably not comprehended except by ecclesiastical and educated people. This might have been especially relevant as the Bible was being published in multiple languages for the first time, one of the most famous of these being published in 1566 in Antwerp, where he lived. On the other hand, Rome was intended by the Caesars to last forever, yet it also represents decay, misuse of power and the transitoriness of even truly great achievements. My take-aways are probably far too simplistic, but they don't feel irrelevant or outmoded. The picture does speak a thousand words. It reminds me that human beings are ambitious, industrious, extraordinarily able to work together with purpose and commitment and achieve more than one person, or even a few could ever do. At the same time, I can't avoid the tragic flipside of this, evident in contemporary events, that what binds us can also paradoxically coalesce into fierce resistance against those who we believe threaten us or are simply different. My final thought is that these may not be two sides of a coin, black and white opposites. The ability to work and bond together should not inevitably create an obverse where others are seen as inferior. It is possible to be collaborative, productive and inclusive and not allow success to develop into an identity that becomes tribal, possessive and ungenerous. This diminishes even great achievements. That we consciously aim for that higher ideal, despite knowing the potential to fail is perhaps one of the lessons of the Tower of Babel. None declared.