The beginnings of the Syriac Sindban tradition are very difficult to secure. Estimates for the first Sindban translation range from the 8th - 11th centuries. The difficulty we have is that no other surviving Syriac text refers to the Sindban, and although intertextual references to similar 'migrating texts' such as Kalila wa Dimna are also very few (though not nonexistent), other fabulistic narratives such as the Story of Ahiqar and the Fables of Aesop are frequently referred to. Furthermore, the fact that we have only one surviving manuscript (itself fragmentary) from a period of voluminous manuscript production adds to the fact that there is a strong body of negative evidence that suggests that the Syriac Sindban tradition was not particularly widespread, and may, in fact, be limited to the niche fabulistic interests of the monks of Mor Bar Sawmo monastery and the specifically 11th/12th century Byzantine interest in recovering the folklore of the lost Near Eastern provinces.
We are thus unable to provide a secure stemma for the Syriac part of the Seven Sages tradition. The Greek Syntipas and Sachau 238 are virtually identical in the plot lines of the surviving stories: the only differences can be explained by the reliance on rare vocabulary (eg the hunter storyline in Syriac uses the rare word ܢܐܳܫܘܪܽ for weasel, whose part is erased in Greek, likely due to the translator’s lack of familiarity with the word). However, there are numerous differences in phraseology. This raises the question of Michael Andreopoulos’ fidelity as a translator, which has divided scholars. If we assume Michael Andreopoulos was a faithful translator, we must distinguish between the Syriac text Andreopoulos claims to be translating and Sachau 238. Yuliya Minets has partly pushed back on this, suggesting that the differences can be explained by Michael Andreopoulos’ creative decontextualisation of the Sindban, moving away from a Middle Eastern language of power and replacing it with a Greek one. It is noteworthy, for example, that the Greek phraseology in describing the figures of royalty is significantly more vivid and precise than the Syriac, and the language of philosophical instruction is significantly more sophisticated (even accounting for the relative poverty of Syriac philosophical vocabulary). It could, therefore, be the case that our surviving Syriac manuscript ('Syriac 2'), possibly produced at the Mor Bar Sauma, faithfully draws off the Syriac text used by Michael Andreopoulos ('Syriac 1), and that the divergence can be explained by Michael Andreopoulos’ creative translation choices. However, we should note that a) Michael Andreopoulos’ text was dedicated to Gabriel of Melitene, and likely designed for the world of the frontier successor states following the battle of Manzikert, not the Constantinopolitan court, so there was a smaller Hellenising incentive and b) Andreopoulos’ text rarely reproduces common Byzantine formulae, eg rhetorical introductions or courtroom procedure, which we would expect to see if he really was creatively adapting the original Syriac 1. It is thus more likely that the differences can be explained by the inferiority of Syriac 2, either as a simpler copy of Syriac 1, or, more likely, that Syriac 2 was working off a separate Sindban manuscript.
A final point to note is the interaction between the Sindban and the wider Syriac fabulistic tradition. As is true of other versions (eg the Sindbadnameh and Seven Viziers) and parallel works (Fables of Aesop, Kalila wa Dimna, etc), there is a great deal of cross pollination between the Sindban and other fabulistic works. In particular, the theme of a falsely accused son being defended in a court setting by a group of Seven Sages crops up several times. However, there is a great deal of divergence in these pseudo Sindban tales. Thus, it is worth making a firm distinction between the Syriac Sindban proper and the broader Syriac ‘Fables of Sindban’ tradition. For more detail on the surviving manuscript, see manuscript page for Berlin Staatsbibliothek Petermann I 24.