The Age of Faith

by Will Durant

  On his accession he proclaimed his desire for peace with Rome. Justinian, having designs on Africa and Italy, agreed; and in 532 the two “brothers” signed “an eternal peace.” When Africa and Italy fell, Khosru humorously asked for a share of the spoils on the ground that Byzantium could not have won had not Persia made peace; Justinian sent him costly gifts.45 In 539 Khosru declared war on “Rome,” alleging that Justinian had violated the terms of their treaty; Procopius confirms the charge; probably Khosru thought it wise to attack while Justinian’s armies were still busy in the West, instead of waiting for a victorious and strengthened Byzantium to turn all its forces against Persia; furthermore, it seemed to Khosru manifest destiny that Persia should have the gold mines of Trebizond and an outlet on the Black Sea. He marched into Syria, besieged Hierapolis, Apamea, and Aleppo, spared them for rich ransoms, and soon stood before Antioch. The reckless population, from the battlements, greeted him not merely with arrows and catapult missiles, but with the obscene sarcasm for which it had earned an international reputation.46 The enraged monarch took the city by storm, looted its treasures, burned down all its buildings except the cathedral, massacred part of the population, and sent the remainder away to people a new “Antioch” in Persia. Then he bathed with delight in that Mediterranean which had once been Persia’s western frontier. Justinian dispatched Belisarius to the rescue, but Khosru leisurely crossed the Euphrates with his spoils, and the cautious general did not pursue him (541). The inconclusiveness of the wars between Persia and Rome was doubtless affected by the difficulty of maintaining an occupation force on the enemy’s side of the Syrian desert or the Taurus range; modern improvements in transport and communication have permitted greater wars. In three further invasions of Roman Asia Khosru made rapid marches and sieges, took ransoms and captives, ravaged the countryside, and peaceably retired (542–3). In 545 Justinian paid him 2000 pounds of gold ($840,000) for a five-year truce, and on its expiration 2600 pounds for a five-year extension. Finally (562), after a generation of war, the aging monarchs pledged themselves to peace for fifty years; Justinian agreed to pay Persia annually 30,000 pieces of gold ($7,500,000), and Khosru renounced his claims to disputed territories in the Caucasus and on the Black Sea.

  But Khosru was not through with war. About 570, at the request of the Himyarites of southwest Arabia, he sent an army to free them from their Abyssinian conquerors; when the liberation was accomplished the Himyarites found that they were now a Persian province. Justinian had made an alliance with Abyssinia; his successor Justin II considered the Persian expulsion of the Abyssinians from Arabia an unfriendly act; moreover, the Turks on Persia’s eastern border secretly agreed to join in an attaack upon Khosru; Justin declared war (572). Despite his age, Khosru took the field in person, and captured the Roman frontier town of Dara; but his health failed him, he suffered his first defeat (578), and retired to Ctesiphon, where he died in 579, at an uncertain age. In forty-eight years of rule he had won all his wars and battles except one; had extended his empire on every side; had made Persia stronger than ever since Darius I; and had given it so competent a system of administration that when the Arabs conquered Persia they adopted that system practically without change. Almost contemporary with Justinian, he was rated by the common consent of their contemporaries as the greater king; and the Persians of every later generation counted him the strongest and ablest monarch in their history.

  His son Hormizd IV (579–89) was overthrown by a general, Bahram Cobin, who made himself regent for Hormizd’s son Khosru II (589), and a year later made himself king. When Khosru came of age he demanded the throne; Bahram refused; Khosru fled to Hierapolis in Roman Syria; the Greek Emperor Maurice offered to restore him to power if Persia would withdraw from Armenia; Khosru agreed, and Ctesiphon had the rare experience of seeing a Roman army install a Persian king (596).

  Khosru Parvez (“Victorious”) rose to greater heights of power than any Persian since Xerxes, and prepared his empire’s fall. When Phocas murdered and replaced Maurice, Parvez declared war on the usurper (603) as an act of vengeance for his friend; in effect the ancient contest was renewed. Byzantium being torn by sedition and faction, the Persian armies took Dara, Amida, Edessa, Hierapolis, Aleppo, Apamea, Damascus (605–13). Inflamed with success, Parvez proclaimed a holy war against the Christians; 26,000 Jews joined his army; in 614 his combined forces sacked Jerusalem, and massacred 90,000 Christians.47 Many Christian churches, including that of the Holy Sepulcher, were burned to the ground; and the True Cross, the most cherished of all Christian relics, was carried off to Persia. To Heraclius, the new Emperor, Parvez sent a theological inquiry: “Khosru, greatest of gods and master of the whole earth, to Heraclius, his vile and insensate slave: You say that you trust in your god. Why, then, has he not delivered Jerusalem out of my hands?”48 In 616 a Persian army captured Alexandria; by 619 all Egypt, as not since Darius II, belonged to the King of Kings. Meanwhile another Persian army overran Asia Minor and captured Chalcedon (617); for ten years the Persians held that city, separated from Constantinople only by the narrow Bosporus. During that decade Parvez demolished churches, transported their art and wealth to Persia, and taxed Western Asia into a destitution that left it resourceless against an Arab conquest now only a generation away.

  Khosru turned over the conduct of the war to his generals, retired to his luxurious palace at Dastagird (some sixty miles north of Ctesiphon), and gave himself to art and love. He assembled architects, sculptors, and painters to make his new capital outshine the old, and to carve likenesses of Shirin, the fairest and most loved of his 3000 wives. The Persians complained that she was a Christian; some alleged that she had converted the King; in any case, amid his holy war, he allowed her to build many churches and monasteries. But Persia, prospering with spoils and a replenished slave supply, could forgive its king his self-indulgence, his art, even his toleration. It hailed his victories as the final triumph of Persia over Greece and Rome, of Ormuzd over Christ. Alexander at last was answered, and Marathon, Salamis, Plataea, and Arbela were avenged.

  Nothing remained of the Byzantine Empire except a few Asiatic ports, some fragments of Italy, Africa, and Greece, an unbeaten navy, and a besieged capital frenzied with terror and despair. Heraclius took ten years to build a new army and state out of the ruins; then, instead of attempting a costly crossing at Chalcedon, he sailed into the Black Sea, crossed Armenia, and attacked Persia in the rear. As Khosru had desecrated Jerusalem, so now Heraclius destroyed Clorumia, birthplace of Zoroaster, and put out its sacred inextinguishable light (624). Khosru sent army after army against him; they were all defeated; and as the Greeks advanced Khosru fled to Ctesiphon. His generals, smarting under his insults, joined the nobles in deposing him. He was imprisoned, and fed on bread and water; eighteen of his sons were slain before his eyes; finally another son, Sheroye, put him to death (628).

  III. SASANIAN ART

  Of the wealth and splendor of the Shapurs, the Kavadhs, and the Khosrus nothing survives but the ruins of Sasanian art; enough, however, to heighten our wonder at the persistence and adaptability of Persian art from Darius the Great and Persepolis to Shah Abbas the Great and Isfahan.

  Extant Sasanian architecture is entirely secular; the fire temples have disappeared, and only royal palaces remain; and these are “gigantic skeletons,”49 with their ornamental stucco facing long since fallen away. The oldest of these ruins is the so-called palace of Ardashir I at Firuzabad, southeast of Shiraz. No one knows its date; guesses range from 340 B.C to A.D. 460. After fifteen centuries of heat and cold, theft and war, the enormous dome still covers a hall one hundred feet high and fifty-five wide. A portal arch eighty-nine feet high and forty-two wide divided a façade 170 feet long; this façade crumbled in our time. From the rectangular central hall squinch arches led up to a circular dome.* By an unusual and interesting arrangement, the pressure of the dome was borne by a double hollow wall, whose inner and outer frames were spanned by a barrel vault; and to this reinforceme
nt of inner by outer wall were added external buttresses of attached pilasters of heavy stones. Here was an architecture quite different from the classic columnar style of Persepolis—crude and clumsy, but using forms that would come to perfection in the St. Sophia of Justinian.

  Not far away, at Sarvistan, stands a similar ruin of like uncertain date: a façade of three arches, a great central hall and side rooms, covered by ovoid domes, barrel vaults, and semicupolas serving as buttresses; from these half domes, by removing all but their sustaining framework, the “flying” or skeletal buttress of Gothic architecture may have evolved.51 Northwest of Susa another ruined palace, the Ivan-i-Kharka, shows the oldest known example of the transverse vault, formed with diagonal ribs.52 But the most impressive of Sasanian relics—which frightened the conquering Arabs by its mass—was the royal palace of Ctesiphon, named by the Arabs Taq-i-Kisra, or Arch of Khosru (I). It may be the building described by a Greek historian of A.D. 638, who tells how Justinian “provided Greek marble for Chosroes, and skilled artisans who built for him a palace in the Roman style, not far from Ctesiphon.”53 The north wing collapsed in 1888; the dome is gone; three immense walls rise to a height of one hundred and five feet, with a façade horizontally divided into five tiers of blind arcades. A lofty central arch—the highest (eighty-five feet) and widest (seventy-two feet) elliptical arch known—opened upon a hall one hundred and fifteen by seventy-five feet; the Sasanian kings relished room. These ruined façades imitate the less elegant of Roman front elevations, like the Theater of Marcellus; they are more impressive than beautiful; but we cannot judge past beauty by present ruins.

  The most attractive of Sasanian remains are not the gutted palaces of crumbling sun-baked brick, but rock reliefs carved into Persia’s mountainsides. These gigantic figures are lineal descendants of the Achaemenid cliff reliefs, and are in some cases juxtaposed with them, as if to emphasize the continuity of Persian power, and the equality of Sasanian with Achaemenid kings. The oldest of the Sasanian sculptures shows Ardashir trampling upon a fallen foe—presumably the last of the Arsacids. Finer are those at Naqsh-i-Rustam, near Persepolis, celebrating Ardashir, Shapur I, and Bahram II; the kings are drawn as dominating figures, but, like most kings and men, they find it hard to rival the grace and symmetry of the animals. Similar reliefs at Naqsh-i-Redjeb and at Shapur present powerful stone portraits of Shapur I and Bahram I and II. At Taq-i-Bustan—“Arch of the Garden”—near Kermanshah, two column-supported arches are deeply cut into the cliff; reliefs on the inner and outer faces of the arches show Shapur II and Khosru Parvez at the hunt; the stone comes alive with fat elephants and wild pigs; the foliage is carefully done, and the capitals of the columns are handsomely carved. There is in these sculptures no Greek grace of movement or smoothness of line, no keen individualization, no sense of perspective, and little modeling; but in dignity and majesty, in masculine vitality and power, they bear comparison with most of the arch reliefs of imperial Rome.

  Apparently these carvings were colored; so were many features of the palaces; but only traces of such painting remain. The literature, however, makes it clear that the art of painting flourished in Sasanian times; the prophet Mani is reported to have founded a school of painting; Firdausi speaks of Persian magnates adorning their mansions with pictures of Iranian heroes;54 and the poet al-Buhturi (d. 897) describes the murals in the palace at Ctesiphon.55 When a Sasanian king died, the best painter of the time was called upon to make a portrait of him for a collection kept in the royal treasury.56

  Painting, sculpture, pottery, and other forms of decoration shared their designs with Sasanian textile art. Silks, embroideries, brocades, damasks, tapestries, chair covers, canopies, tents, and rugs were woven with servile patience and masterly skill, and were dyed in warm tints of yellow, blue, and green. Every Persian but the peasant and the priest aspired to dress above his class; presents often took the form of sumptuous garments; and great colorful carpets had been an appanage of wealth in the East since Assyrian days. The two dozen Sasanian textiles that escaped the teeth of time are the most highly valued fabrics in existence.57 Even in their own day Sasanian textiles were admired and imitated from Egypt to Japan; and during the Crusades these pagan products were favored for clothing the relics of Christian saints. When Heraclius captured the palace of Khosru Parvez at Dastagird, delicate embroideries and an immense rug were among his most precious spoils.58 Famous was the “winter carpet” of Khosru Anushirvan, designed to make him forget winter in its spring and summer scenes: flowers and fruits made of inwoven rubies and diamonds grew, in this carpet, beside walks of silver and brooks of pearls traced on a ground of gold.59 Harun al-Rashid prided himself on a spacious Sasanian rug thickly studded with jewelry.60 Persians wrote love poems about their rugs.61

  Of Sasanian pottery little remains except pieces of utilitarian intent. Yet the ceramic art was highly developed in Achaemenid times, and must have had some continuance under the Sasanians to reach such perfection in Mohammedan Iran. Ernest Fenellosa thought that Persia might be the center from which the art of enamel spread even to the Far East;62 and art historians debate whether Sasanian Persia or Syria or Byzantium originated lusterware and cloisonné.*63 Sasanian metalworkers made ewers, jugs, bowls, and cups as if for a giant race; turned them on lathes; incised them with graver or chisel, or hammered out a design in repoussé from the obverse side; and used gay animal forms, ranging from cock to lion, as handles and spouts. The famous glass “Cup of Khosru” in the Bibliothèque Nationale at Paris has medallions of crystal glass inserted into a network of beaten gold; tradition reckons this among the gifts sent by Harun to Charlemagne. The Goths may have learned this art of inlay from Persia, and may have brought it to the West.64

  The silversmiths made costly plate, and helped the goldsmiths to adorn lords, ladies, and commoners with jewelry. Several Sasanian silver dishes survive—in the British Museum, the Leningrad Hermitage, the Bibliothéque Nationale, and the Metropolitan Museum of Art; always with kings or nobles at the hunt, and animals more fondly and successfully drawn than men. Sasanian coins sometimes rivaled Rome’s in beauty, as in the issues of Shapur I.65 Even Sasanian books could be works of art; tradition tells how gold and silver trickled from the bindings when Mani’s books were publicly burned.66 Precious materials were also used in Sasanian furniture: Khosru I had a gold table inlaid with costly stones; and Khosru II sent to his savior, the Emperor Maurice, an amber table five feet in diameter, supported on golden feet and encrusted with gems.67

  All in all, Sasanian art reveals a laborious recovery after four centuries of Parthian decline. If we may diffidently judge from its remains, it does not equal the Achaemenid in nobility or grandeur, nor the Islamic Persian in inventiveness, delicacy, and taste; but it preserved much of the old virility in its reliefs, and fore-shadowed something of the later exuberance in its decorative themes. It welcomed new ideas and styles, and Khosru I had the good sense to import Greek artists and engineers while defeating Greek generals. Repaying its debt, Sasanian art exported its forms and motives eastward into India, Turkestan, and China, westward into Syria, Asia Minor, Constantinople, the Balkans, Egypt, and Spain. Probably its influence helped to change the emphasis in Greek art from classic representation to Byzantine ornament, and in Latin Christian art from wooden ceilings to brick or stone vaults and domes and buttressed walls. The great portals and cupolas of Sasanian architecture passed down into Moslem mosques and Mogul palaces and shrines. Nothing is lost in history: sooner or later every creative idea finds opportunity and development, and adds its color to the flame of life.

  IV. THE ARAB CONQUEST

  Having killed and succeeded his father, Sheroye—crowned as Kavadh II—made peace with Heraclius; surrendered Egypt, Palestine, Syria, Asia Minor, and western Mesopotamia; returned to their countries the captives taken by Persia; and restored to Jerusalem the remains of the True Cross. Heraclius reasonably rejoiced over so thorough a triumph; he did not observe that on the very day in 629 when he r
eplaced the True Cross in its shrine a band of Arabs attacked a Greek garrison near the River Jordan. In that same year pestilence broke out in Persia; thousands died of it, including the King. His son Ardashir III, aged seven, was proclaimed ruler; a general, Shahr-Baraz, killed the boy and usurped the throne; his own soldiers killed Shahr-Baraz, and dragged his corpse through the streets of Ctesiphon, shouting, “Whoever, not being of royal blood, seats himself upon the throne of Persia, will share this fate”; the populace is always more royalist than the king. Anarchy now swept through a realm exhausted by twenty-six years of war. Social disintegration climaxed a moral decay that had come with the riches of victory.68 In four years nine rulers contested the throne, and disappeared through assassination, or flight, or an abnormally natural death. Provinces, even cities, declared their independence of a central government no longer able to rule. In 634 the crown was given to Yezdegird III, scion of the house of Sasan, and son of a Negress.69

  In 632 Mohammed died after founding a new Arab state. His second successor, the Caliph Omar, received in 634 a letter from Muthanna, his general in Syria, informing him that Persia was in chaos and ripe for conquest.70 Omar assigned the task to his most brilliant commander, Khalid. With an army of Bedouin Arabs inured to conflict and hungry for spoils, Khalid marched along the south shore of the Persian Gulf, and sent a characteristic message to Hormizd, governor of the frontier province: “Accept Islam, and thou art safe; else pay tribute. … A people is already upon thee, loving death even as thou lovest life.”71 Hormizd challenged him to single combat; Khalid accepted, and slew him. Overcoming all resistance, the Moslems reached the Euphrates; Khalid was recalled to save an Arab army elsewhere; Muthanna replaced him, and, with reinforcements, crossed the river on a bridge of boats. Yezdegird, still a youth of twenty-two, gave the supreme command to Rustam, governor of Khurasan, and bade him raise a limitless force to save the state. The Persians met the Arabs in the Battle of the Bridge, defeated them, and pursued them recklessly; Muthanna re-formed his columns, and at the Battle of El-Bowayb destroyed the disordered Persian forces almost to a man (624). Moslem losses were heavy; Muthanna died of his wounds; but the Caliph sent an abler general, Saad, and a new army of 30,000 men. Yezdegird replied by arming 120,000 Persians. Rustam led them across the Euphrates to Kadisiya, and there through four bloody days was fought one of the decisive battles of Asiatic history. On the fourth day a sandstorm blew into the faces of the Persians; the Arabs seized the opportunity, and overwhelmed their blinded enemies. Rustam was killed, and his army dispersed (636). Saad led his unresisted troops to the Tigris, crossed it, and entered Ctesiphon.