by Matt Waters
To return to the Classical tradition, both Diodorus (17.6.1–2) and Justin (10.3.2–5) trace the future-king Darius III’s name and reputation to his good service and bravery during Artaxerxes III’s war against the Cadusians in northern Iran, during which he slew one of their champions in single combat. Justin names him “Codomannus,” and from the context it is clear that this Codomannus is the future Darius III; that name is sometimes used in modern works to identify him as Darius Codomannus. Babylonian documentation suggests that Darius III’s original name was Artashata. We know little more about him before he became king, beyond the small but significant detail that he was from another branch of the royal line. He was the son of Arsanes, the son of Ostanes, who was a brother of Artaxerxes II. Justin further indicates that Codomannus was a satrap in Armenia, which, if accurate, indicates that the future Darius III had military forces at his immediate disposal. Justin omits entirely the reign of Artaxerxes IV from his account; therein Codomannus became Darius III right after Artaxerxes III died. There are no surviving royal inscriptions attributable to Artaxerxes IV or Darius III, and the telescoped account in the Classical tradition reminds us again of the precarious nature of much of our knowledge.
Macedon Rising
The history of the kingdom of Macedon, north of Greece, is obscure before the mid-fourth century BCE. In the late sixth and early fifth centuries, the Macedonian king, having given earth and water to Darius I, was a Persian vassal (see p. 83). Macedon’s status vis-à-vis Persia after Xerxes’ invasion, when Persian holdings in Europe were reduced, is unclear. Macedonians were not Greek, although the ruling family and elites were thoroughly Hellenized, and they shared cultural and political ties with Greek city-state neighbors to the south. Macedon, however, was not a city-state but rather a kingdom, one with extensive natural resources and manpower.
In the mid-fourth century, the dynamic and aggressive Philip II (reigned 359–336 BCE) expanded Macedonian power in southeastern Europe through alliance and conquest. Philip reformed the Macedonian army based on Greek phalanx warfare, an improvement over the militias that Macedon had relied on in the past. Members of the highly trained phalanx wore armor and helmets and carried a small shield and short sword. The greatest effect came from employment of the sarissa, a long spear or pike that could measure more than sixteen feet. Macedonian cavalry was a force with which to be reckoned, but it was the phalanx that Philip employed to overcome his Greek enemies and that Alexander subsequently used in Asia. Over the course of the 350s and 340s, Philip extended his influence into Greece proper. Athens and other Greek city-states were determined to resist him, despite Philip’s greater numbers and resources. Ironically, that meant seeking Persian assistance; parallels with the situation on the eve of Xerxes’ invasion are many. Philip, however, was already at Greece’s doorstep. With his victory at the Battle of Chaeronia in 338, Philip became master of Greece. While we have massive amounts of Greek material charting Philip’s activities there, we cannot track Persian reactions to Philip’s rise – although the Persians would have monitored his activities closely.
The slim evidence we do have for Persian-Macedonian interaction during this period is often problematic, a function of the paucity of sources and their biased nature. One often cited example is found in Arrian’s Anabasis (2.14). In the aftermath of Darius III’s defeat by Alexander at Issus (see discussion later in this chapter), Darius purportedly sent Alexander a letter that alluded to the friendship and alliance between Artaxerxes III and Philip, mentioned an unspecified injustice that Philip committed against Arses (Artaxerxes IV), and accused Alexander of not renewing the alliance but instead invading Asia. Alexander’s indignant response lambasted Darius for Persian military aid given to the city of Perinthus, a Persian force sent by Artaxerxes III into Thrace (considered by Alexander and Philip to be Macedonian territory), and Persian support for the plot that resulted in Philip’s assassination. Any of these would be big news if confirmed, but the whole exchange appears to be a piece of Macedonian propaganda. Most of the assertions in the letter exchange must be treated with skepticism – as parts of a rhetorically charged context – given that the only verifiable accusation is Persian support for Perinthus in 340/339 BCE.
Perinthus was located on the northern (European) shore of the Propontis, an Athenian allied city that had resisted Philip’s expansionism in Thrace and thus found itself besieged. Some speculate that Philip eyed this city and others nearby, such as Byzantium (modern Istanbul), as strategic holdings from which he could threaten Athens’ grain supply. When word of the siege reached Artaxerxes III, the king sent instructions that provided Perinthus with troops and supplies (Diodorus 16.75). This may be considered the first verifiable clash between Macedon and Persia. In 339 BCE, Artaxerxes III would have considered this another flare-up on the far northwestern fringe of the Empire. The situation soon escalated. In 337, Philip called on the Greek city-states to provide contingents for an attack on the Persian Empire, according to Diodorus (16.89.1) because Philip “wished on behalf of the Greeks to launch a war against the Persians and to take vengeance upon them for their transgression against the temples.” This was a not-so-subtle reference to Xerxes’ destruction of the temples on the Athenian acropolis in 480 BCE, itself cast – according to the Greek tradition – as retribution for Athenian involvement in the burning of the Cybele temple in Sardis in 499. And so the propaganda cycle continued.
Reprisal against Persia was as good a pretext as any for a war. Philip’s true motivation is much discussed in the modern literature. Perhaps it was nothing more than an expansionist power, flush with recent successes, setting its sights on larger and more tempting targets: the northwestern satrapies of the Persian Empire. This of course leads to larger questions: How far did Philip intend to go? What was the extent of his plans? Similar questions about aims and strategy are raised about Alexander’s progress over the course of his invasion (Map 11.1). Similar questions – with similar uncertainties – have been posed also about Cyrus the Great’s conquests more than 200 years earlier.
In 336 BCE, Philip sent a force of 10,000 men under his generals Attalus and Parmenion across the Hellespont, a campaign cast as the liberation of the Greek city-states of Ionia.2 One target was Abydos on the Hellespont, which later became the staging area for Alexander’s crossing, in 334. In 336–335, however, Persian forces under the commander Memnon, an Ionian Greek mercenary, were able to check the advance of Philip’s forces at several points. At the time of Philip’s death in the summer of 336, there was thus open war between Persian and Macedonian forces in Hellespontine Phrygia. This was the war that Alexander inherited. Alexander was twenty years old when he became king, having been tutored by the philosopher Aristotle and groomed for kingship by governing Macedon while his father was on campaign, when Alexander was not campaigning with him. Between 336 and 334, Alexander consolidated Macedonian power in Thrace and in Greece. He promulgated two clear messages: he would brook no challenges and he planned to continue his father’s military operations in Asia.
Sources and Problems
The historiography of Alexander is gigantic, suitable for a man that so captured the imagination of his own time and ever since. Alexander brought with him several writers and chroniclers to record his deeds, perhaps with an eye on the magnitude of what he meant to do. Not one of the works by writers contemporary with Alexander has survived to our day, but they were extant through much of antiquity and were used by later writers. These are now our main sources. The reader hasalready encountered Diodorus Siculus and Plutarch, to whom we now add Arrian, Quintus Curtius, and Justin, each of whom has been cited only occasionally thus far. All of these later writers date between two and four centuries after Alexander’s death. Arrian, Quintus Curtius, and Justin are sometimes called the “Alexander historians.” Of these, Arrian is generally considered to be the most reliable; he used and cited writings of Alexander’s admiral Nearchus and other high-ranking military commanders. Reflecting the scope and sca
le of Alexander’s march, these sources shed some light on the Achaemenid Empire’s eastern provinces, which had hitherto been mostly neglected by earlier Greek writers.
Map 11.1 Alexander’s Route through the Persian Empire. After Cambridge History of Iran, Vol. 2, 1985, map 17.
The Invasion Begins: Battles of Granicus (May 334 BCE) and Issus (November 333 BCE) and Alexander’s Operations in Asia Minor
Macedonian control of Abydos served as a bridgehead for Alexander’s forces to cross into Anatolia. Alexander’s army numbered between 30,000 and 40,000 – a combination of the Macedonian phalanx, cavalry and royal guard, and Greek allies. Arrian (1.12.8–10) emphasizes the strategic discussions among the various Persian satraps and commanders in Anatolia, foremost among whom was Arsites, the satrap of Hellespontine Phrygia, in whose territory the Battle of Granicus occurred. The Greek mercenary commander Memnon’s advice to his employers – do not engage the Macedonian phalanx but rather deprive them of provisions via a “scorched earth” policy – was rejected by Arsites, who refused to countenance any damage to property or harm to the people in his charge. In contrast to Arrian, Justin’s account of the preliminaries (11.6.8–10) provides little information on the thinking or preparations of the commanders but focuses on Darius’ attitude. According to Justin, Darius sought a straight-up fight (with no trickery) and even permitted the Macedonians to invade, because it was more honorable to repel them in a battle than to prevent them from landing.
Scholars debate the difference in tone of these two accounts. Justin’s seems more apocryphal and romanticized. Of course Darius was apprised of the situation and in communication with his commanders, but the gist of any specific orders he may have given beforehand is unknown to us. The commanders would have had discretion as to where and how to prepare for battle on the ground. The Macedonians held Abydos, on the Asian side of the Hellespont, and the Persian fleet was not deployed – for reasons unclear to us, although it was later evident in full force around Miletus. So there was no attempt to prevent the Macedonian army’s crossing, and the Persian force could only go about preparing to meet them in battle. Whatever the case about the preliminaries, the end result is clear. Alexander triumphed on the bank of the Granicus River in northwestern Anatolia, near Troy. The Persians focused on killing Alexander himself, and almost succeeded in hard fighting: Alexander barely escaped death thanks to a fellow Macedonian slicing off the arm of a Persian delivering what might have been a killing blow (Arrian 1.15.8). The Persian cavalry was trapped and slaughtered, the infantry fled, and Memnon’s mercenary force was overwhelmed. The satraps’ forces were scattered, and Alexander then had a free hand in western Anatolia, at least in those places that chose not to resist.
One place that did not resist was Sardis, and its loss was a key blow to the Empire. Spithridates, the satrap of Lydia, died at Granicus. Sardis’ garrison commander, Mithrenes, voluntarily surrendered the city to Alexander. Why would a Persian commander freely surrender a satrapal capital so early in the fight against Macedon? Even with Alexander’s victory at Granicus, he controlled only one corner of a vast Empire, and in the summer of 334 BCE the outcome of his invasion was far from certain. Indeed, based on the Persians’ long history of conflict with recalcitrant Greeks – Macedonians were probably not viewed as much different – Darius III and his advisors likely had full confidence that Alexander’s foray, like Agesilaus’ in the 390s BCE, would be foiled or simply run its course. But even if the surrender of Sardis was a simple matter of Mithrenes and the Sardinians trying to save their own skins, their surrender was unlikely to have been spontaneous; there must have been negotiation with Alexander’s agents.
In dealing with Mithrenes and Sardis, Alexander thus gave notice of his approach as conqueror. Achaemenid officials who surrendered were not only spared but might keep their position and status. Alexander needed the Persian imperial bureaucracy – headed mainly by Persian elites – to have any chance at maintaining a successful conquest. Sardis in 334, beyond a change in ruler and allegiance, looked no different than it had before Alexander arrived: local rule and local institutions continued. More than 200 years of Achaemenid rule would have “Persianized” it to some extent, especially among the elites. That component would not have troubled the new ruler, whose main concern going forward was a compliant imperial center behind him.
Alexander’s progress through the rest of western Asia Minor followed a similar pattern: those cities that gave themselves up willingly were “liberated” from Persian rule and subjected to Macedonian rule with no dramatic changes in their civic affairs. Several cities chose that path, but many resisted, and Persian officials initiated counterattacks. Miletus held out thanks to Persian naval power. Alexander had disbanded his own fleet shortly after the Battle of Granicus to focus on the land campaign; his plan was to deprive Persian naval forces of bases and supplies, and thus ultimately to nullify their advantage. Resistance also persisted at Halicarnassus. Alexander was unable to dislodge the defensive forces gathered in the citadels. Meanwhile, Memnon was dispatched north along the Ionian coast to recapture cities that had submitted to Alexander. He met with much success until he was killed in a siege of Mytilene on the island of Lesbos during the summer of 333. Command passed to a certain Autophradates along with Memnon’s nephew, Pharnabazus, who continued operations in Ionia and even the islands – testimony to the Persians’ intent to contest every inch of Alexander’s progress.
During the first part of Alexander’s invasion, the action therefore occurred simultaneously on many fronts in Anatolia. Through the late summer of 334 BCE, Achaemenid forces were active in defending territory in Ionia and the Aegean, efforts that persisted into 332. Leaving the siege of Halicarnassus to deputies, Alexander turned east and during a difficult winter campaign – again facing significant resistance from many cities – took control of the coastal regions of Lycia and Pamphylia, while the Persians employed countermoves. Alexander’s progress was inexorable, however, and the Persians soon lost the Phrygian satrapal capital Kelainai. The city of Gordion in central Anatolia (roughly 50 miles southwest of modern Ankara) was also taken, and Alexander spent several months there during the spring of 333, as he received reinforcements from Macedon and Greece.
Darius III himself was not idle. He massed forces in preparation for the second pitched battle against Alexander, this one at Issus in southeastern Anatolia. Several modern scholars attribute Darius III’s failure to stop Alexander to Darius’ dilatory approach to marshaling his army. The mustering of large Achaemenid forces was never a rapid process. Darius and his officials were in fact broadly engaged in defensive efforts as noted earlier in this chapter. Inexplicably, Darius failed to defend sufficiently the so-called Cilician Gates (a pass through the Taurus Mountains about 25 miles north of Tarsus), and by the summer of 333, Alexander had taken them and then continued on to conquer Tarsus, the capital of the satrapy of Cilicia. Alexander’s and Darius’ armies passed each other, within 100 miles, and wheeled about to meet at Issus, along the Pinarus River (identified with the modern Payas River) near the modern town of Iskenderun. Meanwhile, Persian commanders in Ionia – still fighting – coordinated their efforts with the Spartan king, Agis. The Spartans were determined to resist Macedonian rule, and cooperation with Persia was a logical choice. But before these efforts could bear any fruit, the Persian defeat at Issus changed the calculus. Thereafter the Persians abandoned any thought of operations in Greece, and Pharnabazus, the commander in charge, sped back to Ionia to deal with the consequences of this latest defeat.
The sources describe Darius III’s army at the Battle of Issus (November 333 BCE) as momentous, and similarly the consequences of its defeat. Accounts vary. The Persian right wing apparently smashed the Macedonian left, but a full-out assault by Alexander and his cavalry on the Persian middle caused it to collapse and Darius to flee – a sequence so compellingly portrayed in the so-called Issus Mosaic (Figure 11.1). From the perspective of the Greek accounts on which we must re
ly, Issus was a complete catastrophe for the Empire. By any measure the battle had important consequences, although Persian forces remained battling in central Anatolia well into 332. Darius fled to a city called Thapsacus, along the Euphrates River. The defeat at Issus meant that the way to Phoenicia was now open, and this gave Alexander access to the Persians’ main naval facilities based in the cities of Phoenicia.
Figure 11.1 Roman Mosaic of Alexander and Darius III, Pompeii, First Century CE, Naples Archaeological Museum. Art Resource. Photo Credit: Erich Lessing/Art Resource, NY.
During the winter of 333/332, Alexander captured the imperial treasury at Damascus, thanks to the treachery of its governor who went over to Alexander. Damascus was a critical center and, as it turned out, the place where many prominent Persian families had gathered: those of the Persian elite and, most importantly, Darius’ own family and household. Alexander thus found himself the captor of Darius’ wife, mother, and several children: a disaster for the King and a gift for Alexander. The Persian defeat found exaggerated expression in the famous mosaic from Pompeii that portrays an energetic, brave Alexander, without a helmet, driving against a despairing, overwhelmed Darius III. This image encapsulates a Greco-Roman perspective of the weak and cowardly peoples of the Orient, an inaccurate stereotype visited time and again in the source material that has so colored subsequent tradition.