Archetypes of the Accused 4

The Reluctant Outlaw

The shepherd turned warrior David of ancient Israelite lore is the image of the hapless hero. He embodies the paradox of being oddly brilliant at the thing everybody is baying for, and oblivious to how this will throw him into conflict with the powers that be. He has a simple, perhaps naive, tribal sincerity. He is brilliant at fighting Philistines–better than King Saul–but in his own mind he is only trying to help. The problem surfaces when he is playing a harp to ease the King's nerves, but finds himself pinned to the wall with a spear for trying to usurp the throne.

So David becomes a reluctant outlaw; a fugitive who lives in caves with a band of outcasts and scoundrels. All this, even though he had never wanted anyone's power at all. He was just good at what he did.

No one who truly mirrors David's archetype would ever claim it. This would involve recognition that one is a little too good at something. Awareness of the complexity involved in one's own brilliance remains buried in the unconscious, under the sincere and honourable desire to serve; to throw oneself into the task at hand. Perhaps the experience of exile was a necessary awakening to that complexity, before he did in fact become king, after poor doomed Saul.

There is a tale in which Saul catches wind of David's whereabouts, and so off he goes with some thousands of his soldiers to hunt the fugitive down. Saul stops to take a piss, and low and behold, he wanders for some privacy into the very cave where David is hid with his posse. The outlaws nudge David, "now is your chance…" 

True to his honour and his lack of ill-will, David stealthily cuts off a corner of Saul's cloak, while the king pisses into the dark. When Saul is back in the saddle, David appears on the brow of the hill and shouts, "see? I could have… but I didn't."

Here is the archetype of the reluctant outlaw who becomes powerful without any conscious interest in power; who poses a competitive threat, without meaning to compete.

When we act in the world–when we boldly do a thing–we often make enemies we didn't expect to make. When we bravely step out to do a new thing, when we become the Event in some fashion, only then do we discover who was really invested in things as they were. There are hidden costs to our exploits. We may find ourselves becoming a problem and being pushed to the margins. For this reason, the warrior is rarely the over-thinker. But when the warrior becomes an outlaw there is much time to think. David becomes savvy. On one hand, he proves his peaceableness. On the other hand, he accepts his grim position, and never returns to the court of King Saul.