Beowulf: An Allegory of Power
Daniel Driskill
Introduction
Central to the epic poem, Beowulf (c. 700-1000 CE), is both a descriptive and a prescriptive philosophy on the nature
of power. The tale serves in large part as an allegory of the character of power,
the path to its attainment, and how it can be successfully retained. Represented through
the intentions and actions of the story's characters and the resulting consequences,
and recounted in the sagacious voices of the tale's narrators, we discover that the
character of power consists of an eager desire to serve others, a fatalistic indifference to
death, a preference for courageous action, deadly formidability, a strong mind, and
constant readiness; we see that the path to power is paved with admirable deeds and legendary feats, upholding a superior
reputation of devotion to the weak, to their defense and inspiration; and lastly,
we learn how power is retained through the cultivation of a healthy level of paranoia,
meticulous planning, the tempering of one’s pride, making amends, remaining moderate
in the measure of one’s strength, active concern for others, promoting collective
unity, exercising virtue, and embodying benevolence.
Anglo-Saxon conceptions of leadership strongly resemble modern-day moral frameworks
in structure, tone, and attunement to human nature. Those destined for greatness will
find in Beowulf a source of guiding wisdom among the finest and most comprehensive ever written.
Now, let the ancient sages teach us who seek to rule.
The Character of Power
Not all are destined to rule—a hero is needed. The domain of Hrothgar, king of the
Shieldings, has seen twelve winters of woe at the hands of the terrible monster, Grendel.
The great hall of Heorot—once a place of rejoicing, of roaring fires and lively banquets—has
been emptied of all its revelers. “[T]he greatest house in the world [now stands]
empty, a deserted wallstead” (Heaney 145). Hrothgar, though a great leader, finds
his situation hopeless. Trails of blood stretch beyond the doors of his great hall
into the ice-stricken wood, where some fearsome exile—a demon—stalks the night in
a boundless rage. Beowulf of Götaland, in “wholehearted” desire to “help and counsel”
the beleaguered Shieldings and with a keenness “to win fame” (Heaney 213), crosses
the bitterswept sea with fourteen strong men. These Geats, pure of heart and honorable
in intent, are destined to face loss. Heroic ambitions are almost invariably met at
great personal cost. Dauntless courage and a fatalistic indifference to death are
required. Their courageous preference for action is soon to be proven through the
flowing of their own blood.
It is only the first night among the Shieldings when one of Beowulf’s men is dragged
from his bed and slaughtered, to the sound of laughter. Fear overcomes Beowulf’s men,
and it is Beowulf, alone, who must handle the lone nightstalker. In the darkness he
wrestles the monster to the floor, presses his hideous face against the timbers of
that great hall, and tears off his arm. Grendel flees, the trail of blood leading
from the doors of Heorot now his own. He soon perishes of his wounds, curled up in
his burrow, survived by a grieving and enraged mother demon. Heorot cheers—hail Beowulf!
But the contest is far from over. Another dark night not long hence and one of Hrothgar’s
right-hand men is slaughtered in the wake of that evil matriarch and her vengeful
rage. Beowulf responds immediately, quickly locating her lair—a cave at the bottom
of a deep forest lake, whose waters burn and from which the animals flee and never
drink. Alone, he dives to the lake’s bottom and gives battle to the hellion in her
own domain. Beowulf “observe[s] that swamp-thing from hell, the tarn-hag in all her
terrible strength, then heave[s] his war-sword and [swings] his arm,” but the “fabulous
powers of that heirloom” fail him, “the shining blade refuse[s] to bite” (Heaney 105).
Where others would despair, Beowulf’s “[l]ife doesn’t cost him a thought. He casts
the hilt aside and fights the she-demon with his bare hands. It’s not long before
she’s on top of him with her dagger, raging hot breath beating his face. A “mesh of
chain-mail on his shoulder” saves his life from her sharp point. Beowulf catches sight
of an enormous blade in her armoury and is on his feet in an instant (Heaney 107).
“[T]he Shielding’s hero, hard-pressed and enraged, took a firm hold of the hilt and
swung the blade in an arc, a resolute blow that bit deep into her neck-bone and severed
it entirely, toppling the doomed house of her flesh” (Heaney 109). Mother and son,
in eternal hatred and despair, descend now upon an all-too-bright underworld.
Throughout the story, Beowulf’s consistently dauntless character routinely positions
him upon the path of victory and an exemplary life. Most eloquently spoken by the
hero himself in Hrothgar’s hall, prior to fighting Grendel, is Beowulf’s unintentionally-shared
secret to heroic courage: “I shall… prove myself with a proud deed, or meet my death
here.” (Heaney 43). It is this fatalistic stance, this “fury of despair” which also
fires the heart of Virgil’s Aeneas at the fall of Troy (Virgil 87), that calls Beowulf,
and all true warriors, forward. It is the hope of a warrior destined to die in battle—but
not before taking many with him.
Beowulf, powerful and determined, is first to acknowledge his subservience to Fate.
“Fate goes ever as fate must,” he declares before the beleaguered Shieldings (Heaney
31). Most, when faced with the stark realities of mortality, the demands of nature,
the ever insatiable call of the famished void, freeze like tonically immobile fawns
as the jaws of death encircle them. No true hero forgets his valor in such a moment,
not when any measure of strength is to be found in the muscles and joints of one cornered
and vengeful predator. So long as his fangs are sharp, his killer instinct dormant,
he will discover his moment—then strike in a profound fury. His indifference to death
(Heaney 101) is like the dispassion of a ċēapmann over the goods of his trade. Fatalistic indifference—what today we term “radical
acceptance”—is the embodiment of heroic power in one destined to be remembered as
“him who stood his ground in the steel-hail” (Heaney 209). To cower before a universe that, in all reality, has always conspired to kill
you eventually displays a certain surprise as to the fact—the direct result of a woeful ignorance of the evidence surrounding
one since birth. It makes plain an unpreparedness for the obvious course of things,
manifesting as indecision as to how one should respond when the culminating moment
arrives. A preference for action, until the very end, is the mark of the hero. He or she at peace with the universal
evidence and with their own virulent nature does not grieve. Beowulf instructs: “[Vengeance]
is always better… than to indulge in mourning. For every one of us, living in this
world means waiting for our end. Let whoever can win glory before death. When a warrior
is gone, that will be his best and only bulwark” (Heaney 97).
Be ready always to respond as the moment requires. Opportunities and challenges arise
not on your time-table, but that of the universe around you, of which you are an insignificant
part. Those unwilling to respond to the wiles of existence are counted impotent and
feckless. For Beowulf and his entourage, “It was their habit always and everywhere
to be ready for action, at home or in the camp, in whatever case and at whatever time
the need arose” (Heaney 87). Surely the opportunity for power and fame would have been missed if Beowulf
had allowed fate to snatch his bearings. It would have been easy to panic, freeze,
and wonder aloud whatever could be happening once Grendel had hold of his dear comrade,
but he awoke, resolute, and made Grendel pay for his adventurism.
We have outlined the character requisite for the effective obtainer of power. What,
then, must one do to make this internal reality external? Here the legend of Beowulf
proves instructive.
The Path to Power
A mere twenty-four lines into the poem, we learn in incredibly succinct language the
secret to the attainment of power: “Behavior that’s admired is the path to power among
people everywhere” (Heaney 5). Not only is it possible to take action that secures
fame and status, this simple principle is applicable anywhere. Earn the admiration
of those whom you seek to rule, and your position among them is guaranteed. What is
the essence of this admiration? The people admire the greatness of your feats, and
believe a portion of your greatness will fall to them.
Beowulf’s first words in Heorot relate a history of his greatest feats so as to build
rapport with Hrothgar and the Danes. “[I have been] boltered in the blood of enemies
when I battled and bound five beasts, raided a troll-nest and in the night-sea slaughtered
sea-brutes. I have suffered extremes and avenged the Geats… Now I mean to be a match
for Grendel” (Heaney 29). If there is any doubt as to the importance of great feats
in service to others, according to the legend, King Hrothgar adopts Beowulf as his
“dear son” in direct response to the slaying of Grendel (Heaney 63). Beowulf, a complete
foreigner, is given legitimate claim to the Danish throne. This move, for both Dane
and Geat, bears the highest cultural significance.
Beowulf’s habit of leading from the front, being “always there at the front line” (Heaney 169), positions himself for such
accomplishments. The fighting spirit is the key attribute of all charismatic leaders,
from Alexander the Great to Napoleon. Hrothgar, in his own right, is a leader of this
kind: “wherever the killing and carnage were the worst, he would be to the fore, fighting
hard” (Heaney 69). It will soon be shown that to strike the delicate balance between
leading from the front and delegating is indeed among the greatest of challenges of all power-holders, and it is this dichotomy
that in the end costs Beowulf his life and his power. This we will discuss at a later
time.
Next, we acknowledge the key importance of accounting for one’s standing in relation
to potential competition. Unferth the Dane, reputed for his courage and great mind,
knew he had been bested when Beowulf arrived on the scene, and that his potential
for fame and power had been severely hampered (Heaney 103). Had he challenged Beowulf,
he’d have perhaps lost more than his share of influence, along with his life. The
question as to whether one has the natural right to rule is relative to the comparative powers of one’s present environment. Self-awareness
here is key, and the lack of it could lead to one’s dissolution.
Connections are of obvious benefit in the attainment of power, and a discussion of
the path to power would not be complete without it. At some point along your journey,
you will need people who help you, this means they must know who you are. Hrothgar
knew Beowulf long before Beowulf grew into the man destined to save the Danes (Heaney
27). Hrothgar himself mentions this upon Beowulf’s arrival, and this connection enables
Beowulf’s first audience with the king (Heaney 27).
The final stone laid on the path to power is that of providing value. The feats one accomplishes must not merely be courageous, but also useful to others.
Beowulf’s rescue of an entire kingdom from an untimely demise not only inspires those
ears graced by its legend, but preserves what is most precious of all, and the reward
for such deeds comes in equal measure. In the eyes of the people, Beowulf’s trustworthiness,
goodness, and repute are indisputable and iron-clad.
Thus is the necessity of actually benefitting those one serves, but its opposite—tyranny—should be acknowledged, if briefly. The pariah king, Heremod, was murderously anti-social.
“He suffered in the end for having plagued his people for so long: his life lost happiness.
So learn from this and understand true values. I who tell you have wintered into wisdom”
(Heaney 119). It’s in the way a leader treats his people that lasting power and social-political
happiness and contentment is both attained and retained.
Keeping Hold of Power
Fires of vengeance ravage the countryside. A dragon hunts the thief responsible for
his missing gold. Death and char blanket ever-increasing swaths of land as the thief
remains at large. Beowulf, a king in his twilight years, is desperate to preserve
his people in the dragon’s wake. Despite the warnings of his closest advisors, he
slips on his mail, straps into his armor, and takes up his sword, uniting with twelve
trusted warriors to face the dragon and end the devastation once and for all.
Per custom, each man is bound by oath and honor to stand by his king to the end, but
when the firebrand makes his terrible appearance, and the true horror of their task
spills over their souls like hot lead, all but Wiglaf desert their lord and escape
into the surrounding woods. The two remaining heroes, inspired by fatalistic glory,
at last slay the dragon after a lengthy battle. However, Beowulf is mortally wounded,
bitten in the neck, and a “deadly poison [suppurates] inside him” (Heaney 181-183).
He steadies his gaze upon the ancient megaliths about him. His breathing grows labored.
Death knocks. “No king of any neighboring clan would dare face me with troops, none
had the power to intimidate me. I took what came, cared for and stood by things in
my keeping, never fomented quarrels, never swore to a lie. All this consoles me, doomed
as I am and sickening for death” (Heaney 185). Exulting in a well-lived life, a life
of triumph, his eyes turn to the astonishing trove surviving its former keeper—a wonder
to behold. The old lord “[gazes] sadly at the gold” (Heaney 189), its glory now a
naïve dream. Before long, he ascends to the grand pillars of heaven to rest “among
the steadfast ones” (Heaney 191).
Wiglaf at first blames Beowulf’s deserters for his death. “Too few rallied around
the prince” (Beowulf 195). And now, “war is looming” over the people. The Franks and
the Frisians will soon learn that the great king is gone (Heaney 197). The Geats will
be overrun by the Swedes. All will be lost.
Wiglaf then addresses the responsibility a king has in protecting his subjects before
and after his reign: “Often when one man follows his own will, many are hurt” (Heaney
207). It is implied that the rashness of Beowulf’s actions in fighting the dragon
himself when others could have been sent in his stead could ultimately have cost his
people their way of life. Beowulf became great by leading from the front, but ended
his reign by his refusal to delegate. As rulers and stewards, consideration for those
in our care, during and after our reign, is of paramount importance. Planning and
executing our actions in a manner that preserves our successors is the final triumph
of our legacy. Beowulf, more keen “to win fame” than any other (Heaney 213) became
king thereby, but when the time came for broader considerations, this tendency proved
catastrophic, spelling the final doom of his culture.
Considering those in our care as we rulers plan and execute our actions preserves
our fundamentally social relationship with them, and by extent our post-mortal power. Small acts of consideration set the stage for extended consequences that serve as
the building blocks of legacy. A social fabric of empathetic unity, from top to bottom,
becomes the unshakeable basis of sustained power. Wiglaf’s declaration to Beowulf after the others had deserted, “I shall stand
by you” (Heaney 181), and his admonition to his comrades that a man should “be at
hand when needed” (Heaney 183), is the manifestation and essence of this unity. A
leaderless and soon-to-be extinct people is the terrible consequence of a disunited
front, whether such occurs by cowardice or by pride. A leader never ceases proving
themself, whether in life or in death. As we see, attaining power is only the beginning—an
entirely new set of skills comes into play in keeping hold of it and ensuring one’s
legacy.
A ruler must cultivate a healthy paranoia against adversaries and vice (Heaney 119).
Enemies with their “hate-honed swords” stalk as killers in the night as the sentry
drowses. Indulgence of the desires is corrosive to potency, blinding one to many threats
that lurk in the shadows. Your vital areas lie perennially marked. Make amends with
enemies wherever possible. Exercise virtue. Form “pacts of friendship in spite of
hatreds” (Heaney 127). Be ever needed—if not feared—by those around you. Distraction,
loss of focus, or the belief that all is well dulls the instincts, and then—an unexpected
strike! Remember, always, all is fleeting (Heaney 121).
The importance of moderation now comes to the fore as a crucial element of a leader’s
legacy. Moderation—the ability to measure and control one’s strength—is the key to effective
and enduring leadership. It takes the form of prudence, intentionality, tranquility,
and a sociable nature. It has been said that Beowulf “took no advantage” of others,
“kept his temper,” and “controlled his God-sent strength” (Heaney 149). Surely, the individual well-versed in power-craft wields it most strategically,
most selectively, always kindly, sometimes terribly, and never rashly. We see also
that old-age lends itself to moderation, and the elder Beowulf is a fine example (Heaney 151). Even so, the vice of pride—Beowulf’s bane, in the end proves his master and
conqueror still (Heaney 179). Hrothgar’s warning on pride fifty winters prior resounds now in our ears: “Do
not give way to pride” (Heaney 121). The reader may now recall the sad gaze of the dying Beowulf as he beheld the
dragon’s treasure.
It is virtue that makes or breaks a hero, and by extent his people. For any organization
of social animals, prudence (Heaney 117), generosity (Heaney 133), integrity (Heaney 185), grace, fairness, and kindness (Heaney 213) enrich the social-political substrate with trust, goodwill, mutual respect,
and honor—the pillars of stability and societal flourishing. Leaders who forget this
or who are incapable of leading a virtuous personal life diminish all social life. Leaders who divide, sow mistrust of others, are transactional in their
dealings, are cynical and do not believe in true acts of goodwill, or who are disrespectful
to others and lack decorum, are the polar opposite of the ideal portrayed in Beowulf. These leaders form the antithesis of heroism. They reek of weakness and insecurity, though they excel at selling the
world on how ‘strong’ they are. Demonstrably, the Anglo-Saxons sought to avoid such
a ‘leader.’ We’d do well to do likewise.
Conclusion
The legend of Beowulf is not only a story, but a lesson on the nature and preservation of power. As entertainment
the poem excels, while also demonstrating in beautiful, allegorical fashion a brilliant
philosophy of power. Deeply instructive, both morally and practically realistic, and
likely informed by generations of accumulated leadership and cultural know-how, it
depicts perhaps the greatest attainable social-political ideal within the Anglo-Saxon
imagination.
Works Cited
Heaney, Seamus. Beowulf. Faber & Faber, 2000.
Virgil., et al. The Aeneid. New York, Viking, 2006.
