by Matt Waters
In this archive’s varied documentation we find reference to Arshama’s satrapal responsibilities juxtaposed with great concern for his personal holdings. Topics range from the distribution of rations to slaves to transfer and maintenance of property. One of the more striking letters contains the satrap’s admonishment to his subordinate Nakhtor to take advantage of unrest in Egypt itself to bolster Arshama’s own holdings (A6.10).6 That Arshama and other satraps were concerned to maintain their own positions and economic security is hardly surprising, but it is not often that we are able to track it directly. From Babylonian documentation we learn that Arshama also held estates in Babylonia, like many other notables of the time. The Arxanes whom Ctesias identifies as the satrap of Egypt, who aided Ochus (Darius II) in his bid for the throne, has been identified with this Arshama. If that is correct, Arshama was satrap in Egypt by or before 425. Extant documentation indicates that he served as satrap until at least 407.
Amyrtaeus of Sais, in the Delta, rebelled against the Persians and was recognized as king sometime in 404/403, according to the Egyptian writer Manetho. Amyrtaeus’ rebellion seems to have been confined to the Delta region. His name suggests a dynastic link, whether real or fabricated, with the Delta kings who had rebelled during Artaxerxes I’s reign in the 460s. The progression of the revolt through southern Egypt is not entirely clear. Some of the Aramaic documents from Elephantine continued to be dated to Artaxerxes II reign until 402 or 401, but the significance of that is debatable. By 399 at the latest Egypt must be considered outside Persian control, but warring factions within Egypt itself led to instability. Amyrtaeus was deposed in 398/397 by Nepherites I, whose own reign (c. 398–391 BCE) ended in an Egyptian succession crisis – one of several in this turbulent period – that produced one of the longest ruling of the rebel kings, Akoris (391–378 BCE).
After the Aegean front was stabilized in the early 380s (see discussion earlier in this chapter), Artaxerxes apparently applied a more sustained focus on Egypt but one that was in the short-term unsuccessful. The Athenian orator Isocrates alludes to a massive Persian campaign against Egypt in the late 380s, but there is no reference to such a campaign in other sources. Isocrates portrays Persia’s inability to reconquer Egypt as a sign of weakness (Panegyricus 140). Isocrates made a career of agitating for a pan-Hellenic campaign against, as he describes it, a weak and doddering Persian Empire – his characterization is exaggerated.
In the 370s, Pharnabzus, previously the satrap of Hellespontine Phrygia, was charged with retaking Egypt, now ruled by Nectanebo I. Diodorus relates Pharnabazus’ need to resort to ship transport to circumvent elaborate defensive fortifications (15.41–43.4). Pharnabazus’ failure to follow his Greek mercenary commander Iphicrates’ advice to take the undefended capital Memphis in a quick strike, while the Egyptian rebels were still stationed in the Delta, doomed the campaign to failure. That miscalculation and subsequent Egyptian successes ultimately forced a Persian withdrawal. Diodorus’ stylized Hellenocentric approach – which generally elevates the Greeks and denigrates the Persians, as in the case of Iphicrates and Pharnabazus’ differences – makes the particulars of this account difficult to gauge. The true course and strategy remain uncertain, but scholars tend to accept the general outline of a significant but failed attempt to recapture Egypt by force in the mid-to-late 370s.
In the late 360s, Tachos (coruler and then successor of Nectanebo I) launched a major campaign into Phoenicia, an area in which Egypt had long had an interest. During the campaign, Tachos’ nephew rebelled against him and seized the throne under the name of Nectanebo II. Various late sources suggest that Tachos’ nephew’s rebellion was a consequence of Tachos’ defeat by a Persian army in Phoenicia. Whatever the truth of the matter, Tachos fled, of all places, to Persia. There he was welcomed by Artaxerxes, who planned another attempt at the reconquest of Egpyt. But that campaign was ultimately left to Artaxerxes III.
Scattered references dating to the last decade of Artaxerxes II’s rule remind us that the Aegean and Egyptian fronts were not the only concerns of the King. An entry in one of the Babylonian astronomical diaries refers to a campaign in 369 against a place called “Razaundu,” the location of which is uncertain. Opinions vary but a location somewhere in northwestern or north central Iran seems most likely; the fragmentary entry does not preserve details of the campaign. It has been linked to a reference in Plutarch (Art. 24.1) to Artaxerxes’ campaign against Cadusians in the north. Another Babylonian astronomical diary entry indicates that in 367 the King met an unspecified threat somewhere in (northern?) Mesopotamia.
Revolts in Anatolia
Other threats to Persian stability developed in Anatolia in the late 360s BCE. In modern treatments, the so-called Great Satraps’ Revolt has often been put forward as a harbinger of the end of the Empire. That somewhat melodramatic assessment has been called into question, and what has resulted is a classic historiographic case study on the nature and interpretation of our evidence for the Achaemenid Persian Empire in the fourth century. There are fundamental problems in the chronology and reliability of the ancient accounts that allude to this revolt – or, better put, revolts – and many scholars are unprepared to accept a unified effort by several satraps that was carefully orchestrated against the King. Diodorus is the main source for the portrayal of an empire on the brink (15.90), at least in its western holdings. A number of satraps in Anatolia, aided by the Spartans and in conjunction with a major offensive by Tachos of Egypt, threatened Artaxerxes. The satraps included Ariobarzanes of Hellespontine Phyrgia, Mausolus of Caria (he of the famous Mausoleum of Halicarnassus), Orontes of Mysia, and Autophradates of Lydia.
To contextualize the revolts as a whole, Classical sources contemporary to the events are, unfortunately, of little additional help. Athenian orators such as Isocrates and Demosthenes include or omit, embellish or gloss, details about the King’s troubles for their rhetorical purposes. Their job was to persuade an Athenian audience. On matters Persian, their speeches read like selections from a political campaign. This is not to imply that the references to revolts against the King are fabricated, but the details are on the whole unreliable. Some sources contradict Diodorus’ much later account.7 For example, Xenophon (in one of his minor works entitled Agesilaus 2.26) indicates that the rebel Ariobarzanes of Hellespontine Phrygia was defeated by royal forces commanded by none other than Autophradates, satrap of Lydia – Diodorus lists both as involved in the same revolt. That the King faced challenges in his territories is nothing new. That these challenges may occasionally have come from satraps’ rebellions is also not new. But a revolt coordinated by many satraps simultaneously would definitely be new, at least with our extant documentation. The varying traditions in the Athenian orators’ speeches, in Diodorus, and in other sources likely reflect real problems in Anatolia, but the particulars are in doubt.
From Artaxerxes II to Artaxerxes III: Another Succession Crisis
Our most detailed source for the history of this period, Diodorus, mentions the transition from Artaxerxes II to Artaxerxes III only briefly (15.93.1), and he got the chronology wrong. Babylonian texts indicate that Artaxerxes II ruled forty-six years (405–359 BCE), not the forty-three of Diodorus, and that Artaxerxes III ruled for twenty-one years (359 to 338 BCE), not the twenty-three of Diodorus. In reading Diodorus, one could get the impression that the transition occurred without incident, but other sources give a different impression.
Plutarch in his Life of Artaxerxes portrays Ochus – Artaxerxes III’s name before he took the throne – as a bloodthirsty, conniving rogue. Artaxerxes II and Stateira had three sons: Darius (the eldest), Ariaspes, and Ochus himself.8 Darius was designated crown prince (Art. 26–28), but nevertheless his schemes, ambition, and desire (for one of his father’s favorite concubines, no less) led him on a convoluted path to rebellion. When the plot was revealed, Darius, several courtiers, and fifty of his illegitimate half brothers, along with their entire families, were killed. Then, through veiled (
and fabricated) threats that Ochus orchestrated as though they came from the King himself, Ochus drove his brother Ariaspes to grief and, ultimately, suicide. Artaxerxes’ favorite illegitimate son, Arsames, then gained stature at court, only to be killed by a noble Arpates, son of Tiribazus, at the instigation of Ochus. This series of scandals was apparently too much for the old king Artaxerxes II, who died shortly thereafter.
This whole story reads like high romance, probably inspired by Ctesias’ Persica, so its validity is immediately cast into doubt. To add to the salaciousness of his account, Plutarch portrays Ochus as having been encouraged by his lover, a half sister named Atossa. Atossa was the youngest daughter, and also a wife, of Artaxerxes II, thus making her Ochus’ stepmother as well. Rather than asking if all these details could possibly be true, it is better to ask if any element might square with what we know is reliable. These stories about Ochus, who took the throne name Artaxerxes (III) are a mother lode of Greek stereotypes about Persian rulers and their families. According to a first century CE Roman writer, Valerius Maximus (4.2.7), Ochus buried his lover Atossa alive and also locked his uncle and 100 other relatives in a courtyard and had them shot down by arrows. As described by Plutarch, his character stands in stark contrast to the mild Artaxerxes II because Ochus “surpassed all others in cruelty and bloodlust” (Art. 30).
Inscriptions and Reign of Artaxerxes III
Artaxerxes III’s own royal inscriptions are more in line with what we have come to expect from his predecessors, yet they also have some notable elements. Their archaizing language, coupled with a number of grammatical peculiarities, suggest a conscious hearkening back to the past. Inscriptions riddled with grammatical mistakes always arouse suspicion, but because these were found in situ at Persepolis, their authenticity is not in question. In this case, the errors are believed to reflect a use of the script and language that strove for an archaizing effect. In so doing, a sense of antiquarianism is fostered, one that adds to the inscription’s authority, similar to the use of archaic sign forms in Cyrus’ brick inscription at Ur (see p. 50).
An inscription in four copies from Persepolis testifies to Artaxerxes’ building activity, reflecting the Near Eastern tradition of the king as builder and restorer (A3Pa). Notable is Artaxerxes’ lineage therein, a precise accounting through Darius I to his father Hystaspes and grandfather Arsames. This enhanced antiquarianism is curious, especially because Artaxerxes III – regardless of circumstances surrounding the royal succession – was a legitimate son of his predecessor. It may have been included for the archaizing effect just described.
The inscription opens with a standard invocation to Ahuramazda as the creator god, and he used the same phraseology Darius I used in his tomb inscriptions (DNa and DNb): “A great god is Ahuramazda, who created this earth, who created that sky, who created man” (A3Pa §1). It closes with a standard blessing formula invoking Ahuramazda and also mentions Mithra as well. That is not so surprising, in light of Mithra’s introduction in Artaxerxes II’s inscriptions, but where is Anahita? Just as we have no reason offered for her and Mithra’s inclusion in Artaxerxes II’s inscriptions we have no reason given for her exclusion from Artaxerxes III’s.
We revert to the classical tradition, mainly Diodorus, for a narrative of Artaxerxes III’s reign. Even here the record is slim, though he reigned for twenty-one years. The early 350s BCE are mostly a blank, but the main foreign policy preoccupation continued to be Egypt. As is frequently the case with Diodorus, the chronology is confused; related campaigns and descriptions of their preparations are conflated into much shorter time spans than would have been necessary. Isocrates (To Philip 101) and Diodorus (16.40.3) allude to a failed attempt to retake Egypt dating to 351, but no details are known. Around this same time – before, during, or after makes a difference, but the sequence cannot be determined – Artaxerxes faced a crisis in the Levant in the form of revolts by some Phoenician cities, notably Sidon, and Cyprus. Diodorus implicitly links all this trouble with the Egyptian problem. The Phoenicians and Cypriots rebelled “imitating the Egyptians” and in contempt of Artaxerxes (16.40.5).
The chronological range for these revolts is between 351 and late in 345. The latter date is confirmed by a Babylonian chronicle entry that refers to prisoners taken from Sidon to Babylonia and Susa. This evidence supplies a welcome certainty given the chronological difficulties inherent in the Classical accounts. Diodorus’ implication is that Persian officials’ oppressive behavior drove the people to revolt. This is understood by modern scholars to mean the Persians’ demands during the ongoing war against Egypt.
Careful preparations are described, but Diodorus attributes Artaxerxes’ victory in Phoenicia to the treachery – arranged by Artaxerxes beforehand – of a certain Tennes, the ruler of Sidon, who became overawed at the size of the approaching Persian force (16.45). The treachery motif is a stock one, which does not make it any less plausible, but its recurrence in Classical sources tends to overshadow more compelling questions of Persian strategy and logistics. Artaxerxes wanted to make an example of Sidon, so it was completely destroyed, according to Diodorus. But its full destruction must be an exaggeration, because within twenty years (at the time of Alexander the Great’s invasion) it was again a large and thriving city. Cyprus was also compelled to return to the Empire, though the timing (before or after the capture of Sidon? – Diodorus indicates the latter) is unclear. In any case, with these areas back firmly under Persian control, the path toward Egypt was open.
Egypt had been beyond Persian control for roughly sixty years. To facilitate the invasion in 343/342, Artaxerxes III had summoned a large cadre of mercenaries from Greece. Diodorus offers, as usual, an outsized role to these forces in Artaxerxes’ successful campaign. Diodorus’ account (16.46.4–51) is unsatisfactory in other ways. One of his first remarks about the invasion is how Artaxerxes lost part of his army in the marshes of the eastern Delta because of his ignorance of the lay of the land. This is difficult to reconcile with reality. The Persians were familiar with the territory and approach into Egypt, having traversed it several times since Cambyses’ invasion in 525 BCE. After securing the Delta region, presumably the main strongholds of the rebel kings, Artaxerxes’ forces moved systematically south, up the Nile, toward Memphis where his adversary, Nectanebo II, had withdrawn – but not for long. Afraid of the defection of other cities to Persia – which would have been described by the Persians as reaffirmation of loyalty to the Persian king – Nectanebo fled to Ethiopia and took refuge there. Later tradition elaborates several outrages committed by Artaxerxes as he laid waste to Egypt, some of which – for example the killing of an Apis bull (Aelian, Varia Historia 4.8) – echo those purportedly committed by Cambyses during his invasion in 525–522. It is difficult to give this credibility, but of course it makes for a neat literary parallel.
Diodorus finishes his account with a simple acknowledgement of Artaxerxes’ victory and the appointment of a satrap named Pherendates. What Persian control of Egypt really looked like in the ten years before Alexander’s invasion is unclear. An otherwise unknown Egyptian king called Khababash may have ruled in the early 330s BCE. His control over substantial parts of Egypt is implied by inscriptional material, but he does not appear in any extant Egyptian king list.9 One other important development during Artaxerxes III’s reign was the rising power of Macedon in the northwest, an issue that drives the narrative of the next chapter.
11 Twilight of the Achaemenids
The Death of Artaxerxes III, Reign of Artaxerxes IV, and Accession of Darius III
The death of Artaxerxes III and the period of transition to Darius III’s accession is marked by treachery and violence – in other words, at least according to the Classical tradition, the norm. It may be more appropriate, if less dramatic, to grant that the circumstances of the succession remain elusive. A Babylonian astronomical tablet contains the laconic note that Umakush (the Babylonian name of Artaxerxes III) “went to his fate” (Akkadian ana imtiu illik).
This is standard Babylonian wording for a death often understood to be from natural causes, though that understanding here stems mainly from the direct contrast to the wording used on the same type of tablet for Xerxes I’s assassination by his son (p. 157). Artaxerxes III died sometime between late August and late September of 338 BCE, and he was succeeded by his son Arshu, the Arses of Classical sources who took the throne name Artaxerxes IV.
The terse reference in the astronomical tablet stands in stark contrast to Diodorus (17.5.3–6), who indicates that Artaxerxes III was murdered. Bagoas, a eunuch and a chiliarch (a high-ranking military official), poisoned Artaxerxes, because the king “behaved forcefully and violently toward his subjects.” Bagoas then elevated Artaxerxes’ youngest son, Arses, to the kingship. Bagoas did not stop there: he slaughtered the young king’s brothers with the intent of isolating Arses and making him easier to control. Arses, not surprisingly, reacted negatively to Bagoas’ power play, so Bagoas killed the new king and his family during his third year of reign (336 BCE). Because the royal house was bereft, Bagoas installed as king one of Arses’ “friends” – in reality, a second cousin of Arses – who became Darius III. Bagoas subsequently turned on Darius as well and poisoned his drink. But Darius got wind of the plot and invited Bagoas to drink first, as a token of his friendship, and thus the conniving eunuch met his end.
There are a number of problems with Diodorus’ account. The consistent stereotype in Classical sources of the powerful eunuch gives one pause to consider what level of literary license Diodorus (or his source) may have taken with this sequence. It is hard to accept Bagoas as a kingmaker, especially one who had a hand in the death of two kings over four years and attempted to end the life of a third. A Babylonian text, however, complicates a glib dismissal of Diodorus’ account. Written in the style of a prophecy, the text lists major events that occurred during the reigns of Achaemenid kings.1 For the reign of Artaxerxes IV there is a fragmentary reference to the murder of the king by a sha reshi official, the Akkadian term that has been frequently translated as “eunuch.” This text provides a potential link to Diodorus’ Bagoas, although the Babylonian text does not provide the official’s name or any other details. The prophecy then says that a prince will seize the throne, and it accurately relays Darius III’s five-year reign in Babylonia, from 336 until Alexander the Great’s capture of Babylon after Gaugamela.