Ancient Persia: A Concise History of the Achaemenid Empire, 550-330 BCE

by Matt Waters

  Issus was followed by further Macedonian successes, as the important Phoenician cities of Byblos and Sidon surrendered to Alexander. Only a decade earlier, Artaxerxes III forcibly reincorporated Sidon into the Empire after the city’s revolt. Conversely, the Phoenician city of Tyre resisted Alexander for more than a year, ready for a long and expensive siege that Alexander had his soldiers pursue with relentless ferocity. Diodorus portrays the siege of the city and its fall in epic terms. He attributes the Tyrian resolve to their desire to remain on good terms with Darius and to their hopes for great rewards for their loyalty (17.40.2–3). With few exceptions, by the summer of 332 BCE, the Persians had lost control of their northwestern territories in Anatolia and also much of the eastern Mediterranean seaboard. This brought not only the Phoenician and Cypriot fleets to Alexander, but also several other contingents from Rhodes and other important bases along the southern coast of Anatolia. This meant the end of Persian naval superiority.

  The Loss of Egypt, the Battle of Gaugamela, and the Surrenders of Babylon and Susa (332–331 BCE)

  While Darius III mustered another army, thanks to the extent of the Empire’s reach and resources, Alexander continued to drive south to take Egypt. Batis, the Persian official in charge of Gaza, which served as the access point to Egypt, had readied his forces to withstand a lengthy siege. Arrian relates that even after the city was breached, after two months of siege, the inhabitants of Gaza continued fighting, essentially street by street (2.27.7). Quintus Curtius (4.6.26–29) adds a striking anecdote about Alexander playing the part of Achilles, his ancestor and model. Alexander tied Batis, who refused to bow to Alexander as king even in defeat, to his chariot and dragged him, still alive, around the city, as Achilles had done with the corpse of Hector (Iliad 22.395–404).

  With his fleet, Alexander then made a triumphant entry into Egypt. The Persian satrap Mazaces surrendered the satrapy of Egypt to its new overlord. Arrian notes that Darius had recently appointed Mazaces as satrap there, because the previous satrap Sabaces had been killed at Issus. Arrian’s description of the surrender follows Greek stereotypes: Mazaces scorned Darius’ flight at Issus and was therefore ready to welcome Alexander (3.1.2). In the same passage, Arrian notes that Alexander now controlled Phoenicia, Syria, and much of Arabia. That critical fact and Mazaces’ apparent lack of manpower and resources put him in an untenable position, regardless of his personal feelings toward Darius.

  The ease with which Egypt was taken by Alexander remains the subject of intense debate in modern scholarship. If Mazaces was truly unable to muster effective resistance, his surrender is not surprising, but beyond Arrian’s glib remark there is a dearth of detail about the situation. Egypt had only a decade before been reintegrated into the Empire by Artaxerxes III, and we are uncertain about the extent of successful control achieved. In any case, one cannot help but contrast Batis’ fierce resistance at Gaza and Mazaces’ immediate surrender of Egypt without a fight. That the satrapy of Beyond-the-River (Trans-Euphrates) was not fully secured is illustrated by a revolt in Samaria against Alexander’s appointed governor there, Andromachus. Alexander reacted swiftly by executing the perpetrators and installing a new governor. Quintus Curtius (4.8.9–11) also links this episode to a purge of local, Persian-supported rulers who yet remained in the Aegean – a message not only to Samaria’s population but also to his own Greek and Macedonian subjects that he was indeed in command of the situation.

  Alexander’s march through Samaria toward Mesopotamia set the stage for the last set battle at Gaugamela (October 1, 331 BCE), just east of the old Assyrian capital Nineveh on the Tigris River, where Darius had amassed his army. Diodorus (17.53) describes an enormous and well-equipped Persian army in splendid array and led by the most excellent commanders – 800,000 infantry and more than 200,000 cavalry – along with scythed chariots, whose function was perhaps more of shock than any real tactical advantage. From a Greek writer’s perspective, the larger and more fearsome that Darius’ army was the better, to magnify Alexander’s victory.

  The Classical accounts about the Battle of Gaugamela are replete with details about Alexander’s feelings and anecdotes of high drama. For example, Darius is described as making another approach to Alexander, offering him the territory west of the Halys River in Anatolia, 30,000 talents of silver, and the hand of one of his daughters in marriage. The last would have made Alexander, in effect, Darius’ coruler. Alexander rejected this offer and, with grandiose pomposity, compared an empire with two kings to that of a world with two suns, a violation of the natural order of the earth (Diodorus 17.54.2–6). This is wonderful stuff, but how much is history and how much hyperbole? Darius’ offer to cede half the Empire seems far-fetched to say the least, since there is no precedent in Achaemenid history or no component of their royal ideology to help us imagine such a thing. On the other hand, Darius was dealing with a new situation, an unprecedented threat. Any earlier assumption that Alexander’s expedition would come to naught would have been long since abandoned, and there no longer would have been any underestimation of Alexander’s capability or determination.

  Darius’ preparations – careful defense of river crossings, a scorched earth policy along Alexander’s line of approach, choice of battlefield to maximize Persian cavalry – proved insufficient. The Battle of Gaugamela itself hung in the balance for some time, but the Macedonians were ultimately victorious. Darius fled the field, regrouped at nearby Arbela, and then withdrew to Ecbatana in Media, where he intended to muster yet another army from the Upper Satrapies – the phrase Diodorus uses (17.64.1) for the territories of the Iranian plateau and beyond – with which to challenge Alexander. A fragmentary Babylonian astronomical tablet refers to the Persian defeat at Gaugamela, the desertion of at least some of Darius’ troops, and his withdrawal into “Gutium” – an archaic term for the northern Zagros Mountains. It here refers to Media.

  Darius’ decision to withdraw to Media left the way open for Alexander to march on Babylon and, from there, east across the Mesopotamian alluvium to Susa. Once at Susa, the route south toward the Empire’s greatest prizes – Pasargadae and Persepolis – lay before him. Why would Darius choose such a move? His withdrawal to Ecbatana in effect ceded the core of the Empire, four of the five main capitals (excluding Ecbatana), to the enemy. The reasons typically given allow varied interpretation. The centrality of the King himself – around whom the entire Achaemenid system revolved – should not be overlooked. One reason was strategic: according to Arrian (3.16.2) Darius thought that Alexander would take the route to Babylon and Susa, and Darius therefore avoided that route. This was no doubt a difficult decision, but it gave him time to organize another army in the north. If part of Darius’ calculations rested on the assumed loyalty of his satraps, that assumption proved ill-founded in the cases of Babylon and Susa.

  Alexander’s reception into Babylon in October of 331 BCE, as related by Arrian (3.16.3–5) and Quintus Curtius (5.1.17–23), follows the pattern of Alexander’s reception at Sardis and, subsequently, at Susa – all cities that surrendered voluntarily. Both Arrian’s and Quintus Curtius’ accounts emphasize ritualistic acts that symbolize an orderly transfer of power. Alexander’s entry into Babylon followed a discernible pattern for which there are several earlier historical examples. The most immediate and germane parallel was that of Cyrus’ conquest of the city in 539 (pp. 44–46). After a hard-fought battle and decisive victory at Opis against the forces of the Babylonian king Nabonidus, Cyrus was received into the city of Babylon without a fight. This was a carefully choreographed entrance that belied the violence that preceded it. Cyrus arranged not only his entry into Babylon but also the messages associated with his assumption of power.

  Arrian’s and Quintus Curtius’ accounts describe a similar sequence. The Persian satrap Mazaeus delivered the city to Alexander, and he was subsequently reappointed to that office. The Babylonians lined the walls and the streets to greet their new king, and the entry was a grand parade. A fragmentary Ba
bylonian astronomical diary also relates this event.3 The surrender of the city only occurred after negotiations between Alexander and the Babylonians assured a peaceful transition and, by extension, a traditional reception for Alexander. The reception culminated in Alexander paying respect to the Babylonian god Marduk (Bel) and his temple, a necessary part of the exercise. This peaceful entry belied the violence of the Battle of Gaugamela, the battle that paved the way, just as Cyrus’ victory did at Opis in 539. In the astronomical diary Alexander is called “King of the World” (Akkadian ar kiati), the same title used to describe Cyrus in the so-called Verse Account of Nabonidus. The title ar kiati had a long history of use by Assyrian and Babylonian kings. The application of this traditional title to Cyrus was not accidental, nor to Alexander. In the latter’s case, its use implies a continuity of imperial tradition and supplies a connection to Cyrus, highlighted by their similar welcomes into Babylon. Alexander received a similar reception from Susa in December of 331 BCE (Arrian 3.16.6–7). After negotiations, the satrap of Elam, Abulites, sent his son Oxathres to meet Alexander on the road to the city and to offer him a formal welcome. This culminated in the surrender of Susa and delivery of its treasury to Alexander.

  The Defense of Parsa

  The next step was not so easy. In the first few months of 330, Alexander faced a difficult road from Susa to Persepolis. The Uxians, who dwelled in the Zagros Mountains, were only passed after extremely hard fighting, which was compounded by the difficult terrain. Alexander subsequently split his forces. His group continued traveling through the difficult mountain paths, Parmenion’s group kept to the main road, which was more suitable for wagons, toward Fars.

  A Persian army of 40,000 infantry and 700 cavalry, commanded by Ariobarzanes, held the so-called Persian Gates – an east-west pass through a river valley in the northern part of Parsa (Arrian 3.18.2–9). The main Persian forces waited behind a wall, and Alexander thus found his Macedonians in the role of the Persians at Thermopylae in 480 BCE with a narrow and fortified pass held against them. The Classical accounts abound with parallels, and it is therefore difficult to discern which elements are historical, which literary. Arrian’s account relates a group of locals, prisoners, who led the attackers by night over mountain paths behind the defending forces. Unlike the heroic Greeks at Thermopylae, though, the cowardly – according to Arrian – Persian forces attempted to flee. Ariobarzanes with his remaining forces managed to break through the Macedonian line and made for Persepolis, with Alexander in close pursuit. Arrian draws no explicit parallel to Thermopylae, but of course he did not need to. It would have been as familiar to any Greek or Roman reader as a contrast between cowardly Persians and brave Macedonians. A high-ranking official at Persepolis, Tiridates, sent a letter to Alexander promising to deliver the city to him if he got there before Ariobarzanes did. Alexander caught, defeated, and killed Ariobarzanes and the remainder of his forces, and took control of Persepolis in mid-January 330. Gobares, who controlled Pasargadae, surrendered that city and its treasury to Alexander as well. Alexander ordered the mass removal of the contents of the treasuries mainly to Susa – according to Diodorus (17.71.2–3), because he was thoroughly suspicious of the inhabitants of Persepolis and he intended to destroy the city.

  The sources are sparse about the next several months, with Alexander encamped in the heart of the Empire. It appears that Alexander had to expend a great deal of effort, and with mixed results, to quell resistance in the outlying regions of Fars. A visit to Cyrus’ tomb to pay his respects to the Empire’s founder culminated in the continuation of the traditional sacrifices performed there, but both Diodorus and Quintus Curtius (5.7.1–4) suggest continuing hostility from the inhabitants of Fars. In May of 330, much of the Persepolis terrace was burned. Alexander’s motives for this are still debated, though most agree that it was a calculated act rather than a drunken impulse (Diodorus 17.72). Arrian casts the destruction (3.18.11–12) as Alexander’s retribution for the Persians’ burning of the Athenian acropolis and all the other harms done to Greeks – a recurrent motif. This makes a good story, but there was more to it. Even Arrian comments that he disagreed with the logic of Alexander’s retribution. Most modern scholars supply much significance to the act: Persian rule was no more, and continued resistance was futile. Alexander thereafter turned his forces north on the direct route from Fars to Ecbatana, to continue his pursuit of Darius III.

  Darius had not been idle, but his situation had become precarious. The sources do not reveal if conscripts summoned from the Cadusians and Scythians had not yet arrived or if they had abandoned the King. In any case, Darius’ forces were becoming insufficient to his needs. After emptying Ecbatana’s treasury, Darius departed the city before Alexander arrived (Arrian 3.19.4–5). The news of Darius’ departure was brought to Alexander by none other than Bisthanes, a son of Artaxerxes III, who cast his lot with the invader. As the action progresses, abandonment of Darius becomes a recurring theme. Quintus Curtius portrays Darius as increasingly despondent, as those around him lost faith (5.9.13–17). Keeping with our sources’ Hellenocentric bias, a certain Artabazus and a group of Greek mercenaries take on a prominent role in keeping the Persians’ flagging spirits up. To compound Darius’ grim situation, the satrap of Bactria, Bessus, along with Nabarzanes the chiliarch and other accomplices carried out a plan to capture the King for their own ends. Their strategy in turn, which we may assume was Darius III’s actual strategy, was to employ the resources of Bactria and the eastern satrapies to forestall Alexander’s advance, and from there to win back the Empire. In the end, Bessus and his accomplices attempted to kill the King with Alexander hot on their heels. They mortally wounded Darius and then fled.

  Another interpretation of this episode has been put forward that fits well in a Near Eastern context. It is controversial, however. In Quintus Curtius’ account (5.9.8 and 5.12.15–20) Nabarzanes attempts to persuade Darius to allow Bessus to take his place as king “for a time” (the Latin word interim), until the enemy withdrew. In other words, Darius would be replaced temporarily until the danger, made manifest by several bad omens, had passed. In this reading, the conspirators – who were not really conspirators, but loyalists – only apparently abandoned Darius. They removed his royal garb and paraphernalia, bound him in gold fetters, and placed him in an unremarkable wagon – all so that Darius would not be recognized by anyone. This description matches the portrayal in Classical sources of Darius forlorn and abandoned, suffering one disgrace after another as his death approaches. But this portrayal may instead be read as part of the substitute-king ritual of Near Eastern tradition (see p. 75), a divinely-inspired attempt to circumvent horrible omens and the coming disaster that was Alexander. The anguish and dismay of Darius is in this reading viewed as ritualistic behavior in a time of crisis and as a part of the ritual itself. With the perspective of hindsight, it is easy to contextualize such a ritual, if that is the correct interpretation, as a desperate attempt to forestall Alexander’s victory. It is impossible to tell how much of a genuine ritual might have underlain this crisis, but the parallels to the substitute-king ritual provide a compelling counter-narrative. That Bessus and Nabarzanes killed Darius in the end – so the Classical tradition relays – suggests that the substitute-king interpretation is incorrect, that it went awry, or that the situation changed.

  When Alexander arrived on the scene, somewhere in northern Iran on the route to Bactria, the last Achaemenid king had died, and the King was the Empire. Alexander did not hesitate to turn this to his advantage as well. Alexander treated Darius’ body with utmost respect and sent it to Persepolis for burial befitting the King. Alexander took upon himself the role of Darius’ avenger and thus his successor. Alexander continued the pursuit of Bessus, who had in the meantime proclaimed himself king with the name Artaxerxes. But the Achaemenid Empire was, for all intents and purposes, finished, although Bessus remained a threat to Alexander and his claim to Achaemenid rule could not be ignored. Even after Bessus’ ca
pture and execution – before which his nose and ears were cut off (Arrian 4.7.3–4, cf. 3.30.4–5), reminiscent of the punishments meted out by Darius I to the liar-kings (pp. 64–65) – Alexander continued to face heavy resistance in the eastern satrapies until early 327 BCE.

  Alexander’s “Persianization” also, not coincidentally, became more pronounced via his adoption of elements of Achaemenid kingship and the incorporation of Persian and Iranian elites into his entourage. Alexander’s attitude and approach were bitterly unpopular with many of his Macedonian cohorts. These and other important aspects of Alexander’s rule, however, are part of another (hi)story. It is at this point that we transition from Achaemenid history to the so-called Hellenistic period, in modern periodization starting with Alexander’s successful conquest of Persia, especially the burning of Persepolis and the death of Darius III. Alexander was both transformative and transitional. If he was to have any chance at holding his conquests together, he had to model much of his rule on Achaemenid norms. Even with appropriate emphases on continuity, Alexander was obviously not an Achaemenid. Despite his amazing success, his rule was short-lived, and the Empire Alexander conquered did not long survive his death in 323 BCE.

  12 Epilogue

  Alexander cast himself in the role of Darius III’s avenger. As he consolidated and expanded his conquests, it was necessary to put the Empire on a stable footing as he prepared for the future. Just as the Persians were “new” conquerors two centuries earlier under Cyrus, Alexander was likewise. But there were many differences, not least of which was familiarity. The Persians had lived in close proximity with the neighbors whom they conquered, in the core regions of Iran and Mesopotamia, for centuries previous. The Macedonians were an entirely foreign element to the region. And what Cyrus built almost from scratch Alexander conquered as a mature, unified entity. Cyrus’ task had been to build; Alexander’s was to prevent dissolution.