To ensure the success of this military colonization, Antiochus issued a number of specific orders, and his letter provides the best evidence of the considerable logistics involved in founding a Seleucid military colony. The settlers were to be moved with their families, cattle, slaves, and other personal property. Rather than one location, they were to be scattered around military strongholds designated by the King in a previous letter to Zeuxis. Each man was allotted land for a home, as well as land for growing crops and vineyards, though Zeuxis was to provide grain rations until families were able to harvest a first crop. Settlers’ crops were exempted from taxes for ten years.14
The Bactrian campaign: 208–206 BC (Polybius 10.49/11.34)
Polybius’ narrative picks up in Bactria, with Antiochus besieging a city three days’ march from the Arius River. The Bactrian king Euthydemos arrived on the scene with a large army spearheaded by 10,000 cavalrymen and proceeded to block the ford over the Arius, a three-day march from Antiochus’ position. We do not know the total size of Bactrian forces, but 10,000 cavalry is an enormous mounted force by ancient standards. Cavalry usually comprised 10–25 per cent of ancient armies. However, the Bactrian army seemed to have been dominated by cavalry, unsurprising given its location on the edge of the Eurasian steppe.
Alerted to the presence of Bactrian troops, Antiochus abandoned his siege and marched his army at a steady pace for two days. Again, his human intelligence networks were excellent, reflecting the residual loyalty toward the Seleucid crown among the native population. He learned from locals that the Bactrian guard at the Arius River ford was posted only during the day; at night, the Bactrian soldiers retired to a town twenty stades (four kilometres) away. Thus Antiochus waited until nightfall to forward a group of 10,000 peltasts (quite possibly the Silver Shield brigade) along with 2000 horsemen of the royal guard (the agema and basilikoi) and additional light infantry.
The next morning, the main body of Bactrian cavalry was alerted to the Seleucid presence and counterattacked. Fierce fighting ensued, with Antiochus in the middle of battle. A spear struck his horse, killing it out from under him, and he took a wound in the mouth that knocked several teeth loose. The royal squadron had successfully repulsed the first wave of Bactrian cavalry, but as more and more Bactrians counterattacked, the King and his horsemen found in a tenuous position. Commanded by an officer named Panaetolus, the 10,000 peltasts charged, rescuing the King and thus turning the tide of the battle. According to Polybius, Antiochus ‘earned at this time a special reputation for courage’.
The defeat shook the confidence of Euthydemos, the Bactrian king. Caught unprepared, his absence at the battle against the Seleucid king was a source of royal shame. Furthermore, he now knew the size of the Seleucid force. Even if the Bactrian had possessed a modest infantry force, it would have been no match for Antiochus’ army. Humbled by a cavalry skirmish, a set-piece battle was now out of the question, and Euthydemos withdrew his remaining forces east to the administrative capital at Bactra-Zariaspa.
While events for the next two years are almost entirely lost, we know that Antiochus besieged the capital city Bactra for part of the period, as Polybius later lists the siege as one of notable significance.15 The final fragment of his narrative gives an account of the negotiations that ended the siege, yet we can assume that the war was now stalemated.
After two years of siege, an envoy named Teleas arrived from the Bactrian camp to initiate negotiations. Through this herald, Euthydemos emphasized his Magnesian origins and Greek identity, presenting himself as a potential ally who never openly rebelled against Seleucid authority.16 Rather, he overthrew Diodotus II, the son of the rebel satrap Diodotus I, an act that could be construed as a favour to the Seleucid king. Furthermore, Euthydemos claimed that he provided a worthy service to Antiochus by repelling nomadic peoples sweeping off the Eurasian plain. If Antiochus were to overthrow his dynasty and destroy his military forces, he argued, these nomads would overrun the Seleucid Empire. This risk from Steppe nomads was not exaggerated: in the 140s BC, the Bactrian kingdom would implode after a wave of uncontrolled migration from the north.
A compromise was soon achieved after Antiochus met privately with Euthydemos’ son Demetrius. Euthydemos was an old man by this time, and Antiochus wished to ensure that his successor would also prove a loyal and effective client king. Antiochus was impressed by Demetrius’ ‘appearance, conversation, and dignity of bearing worthy of royal rank’. This ‘inspection’ may have taken place publicly in the Seleucid camp before the assembled court, an act that would establish Antiochus’ position of supremacy as he adjudged young Demetrius a worthy vassal king. Polybius reports that Antiochus promised Demetrius one of his daughters, although there is no evidence that the marriage took place.
Euthydemos was now a king, but the manner in which the kingship was bestowed emphasized his subordination. His royal power was a direct gift from Antiochus, and gifts could be easily revoked. In addition, Euthydemos was tasked with the expensive duty of providing rations for Antiochus’ army and compelled to surrender his elephants. Euthydemos advertised his new position by minting coins with an anchor stamped upon them – the anchor a Seleucid symbol since the reign of Seleucus I Nicator.17
As mentioned previously, many modern historians have criticized Antiochus for not asserting a more direct control over Bactria – it seems they would be satisfied only by Euthydemos’ head on a pike. The mutilations of Molon and Achaeus certainly prove that Antiochus was capable of ruthless savagery when necessary, yet his dealings with Euthydemos reveal a decidedly pragmatist streak. In this case, there were sound reasons to acknowlege Bactria’s de facto independence. Operations in Bactria had consumed two years with few concrete results. The tumultuous frontier of Bactria meant that a total victory would also come with the expensive task of frontier defence, and Euthydemos was probably correct when he claimed that he could better serve Antiochus as a client king buffering the Seleucid frontier. And given that Antiochus was able to maintain control by personally approving of Demetrius, Bactria’s de facto independence was not a severe political blow. The King had already acquired a good deal of political capital for his personal valour at the River Arius, and the fact that he ended the Bactrian war with a negotiated settlement did not diminish his standing in the eyes of ancient contemporaries.
After the Bactrian affair, Antiochus marched south, perhaps reaching the Indus River in modern day Pakistan. Seleucus I Nicator had previously ceded his claims to this region to Chandragupta, the founder of the powerful Mauryan Empire. The Mauryan king Asoka enjoyed some degree of suzerainty in the far eastern satrapies in the 240s, a time period that coincided with the near collapse of Seleucid power during the third Syrian War, judging from the survival of a number of rock cut inscriptions in Afghanistan testifying to Asoka and his newfound Buddhist faith.18 Both Seleucid and Mayaran empires had since fallen out of contact with each other. While the Seleucid Empire had recovered from its troubles of the previous generation, the Mauryan dynasty seems to have virtually collapsed by this point, and Antiochus III was likely aware of the Mayaran troubles. His march to the Indus River was probably to see if there were any scraps for the taking.
Yet in the interim the Indus river region had been secured by a local potentate named Sophagesenus, who was naturally quite alarmed by the sudden appearance of an enormous army at his border. Antiochus was not interested in bloody conquest, but he was not above a hasty shakedown. Sophagesenus agreed to pay Antiochus a substantial sum to leave, and he provided rations for Antiochus’ army and a new herd of elephants. By now Antiochus had over 150 war war-elephants, the largest herd attested in the ancient world since Seleucus I Nicator. The King left behind an officer named Androsthenes the Cyzician to collect the promised ‘protection money’, and then departed with his army for the return trip west.19
The return route took him north across the Erymandros river (the modern Helmand river valley in Southern Afghanistan) into Dragiana (central Afghanis
tan), and then south-east into Carmania. This was a circuitous route, suggesting that Antiochus was more interested in ‘showing the flag’ through his upper satrapies than in making a speedy return to the heart of Seleucid territory. There is no evidence that he engaged in any active military operations, nor that there was even active revolt to quash. Nonetheless, in regions that rarely received direct royal attention, the presence of king and army would not be without effect.
Wintering in Carmania, Antiochus next travelled to Antioch-in-Persis, where he received ambassadors from the Greek city of Magnesia on the Maeander, a free Ionian city within the Seleucid sphere of influence in coastal Asia Minor. The citizens of Magnesia had recently established elaborate games in honour of Artemis and were now engaged in a furious diplomatic campaign to have these games recognized as ‘isopythian’, or equal in prestige to the games held in honour of Apollo at the Greek sanctuary at Delphi. Antiochus was not the only king the Magnesians approached for assistance – they wanted their games acknowledged by all the major Hellenistic powers, including Ptolemy IV and Attalus I. Antiochus spoke with diplomatic language: he acknowledged the games as isopythian, a designation that included the right to issue victors a crown (stephanos) made of laurel leaves, as was the custom as the Pythian games in Delphi. However, Antiochus, unlike Ptolemy IV, did not proclaim the city of Magnesia ‘holy and inviolate’ (hiera kai asylos). He therefore reserved the right to campaign against Magnesia in the future, despite his protested friendship. This was perhaps a sign that he already was considering a campaign in Asia Minor after he returned from his eastern anabasis.20
While the ambassadors from Magnesia-on-the-Maeander were in Antioch-in-Persis, they took the opportunity to affirm their city-to-city relationship in the presence of the King. Antiochus I Soter had settled the original colony of Antioch-in-Persis with Thessalian veterans drawn from Magnesia-on-the-Maeander. The civic leadership of Antioch-in-Persis passed a decree recognizing Magnesia’s games as ‘isopythian’ and voted that envoys should be equipped to travel the distance to Magnesia proper (in Thessaly) to sacrifice to Artemis-Leucophyrene.21 Such diplomatic contacts across the vast distances – between a Macedonian dominated city in Thessaly and a Seleucid city in Persia – are illustrative of the scope of the Hellenistic experience.
On their return trip back to Magnesia, the ambassadors visited Antiochus, the son of the king, who by now was probably fifteen years old. The Magnesians, well aware of their delicate relationship with their Seleucid overlords, were clearly looking to the future. The meeting was not particularly substantive, but shows that the adolescent prince gained diplomatic experience from an early age.22 By the April of 205 BC Antiochus III was back in Babylon, where he participated in the celebration of the Babylonian new year; the people of the city made ‘sacrifices for Ishtar of Babylon and the life of King Antiochus’.23
But the anabasis was not yet over. In the spring of 205 BC, Antiochus marched his army south along the eastern shore of the Persian Gulf. This region was controlled by the Gerrhae, Arab farmers and traders, although the Seleucids had traditionally maintained a presence on the Persian Gulf through a garrison on the island of Ikaros (now Failaka). The Gerrhae begged Antiochus ‘not to abolish the gifts the gods had bestowed upon them, namely perpetual peace and freedom’ (Polybius 13.9.4). In exchange for ‘peace and freedom’, the Gerrhae paid Antiochus 500 talents of silver, 30 tons of frankincense, and six tons of ‘stakte’, oil of either cinnamon or myrrh.
From the Persian Gulf, Antiochus moved north across Syria and into Asia Minor. By 204 BC the King was in Teos, a Greek city on the coast formerly controlled by Attalus I. Although a military contingent came with him, the goal in Teos seems to have been one of well-armed goodwill. Using standard Hellenistic diplomatic language, Antiochus declared that Teos was to remain ‘holy, inviolate and tax-exempt’.24 This was a sign that he did not have any immediate designs of the city and would respect its autonomy.25 The large army camped outside Teos did not necessarily contradict this pronouncement: benevolent rhetoric and coercive force were rather two sides of the same imperial coin. The city responded with a series of gracious gestures, stock actions of Hellensitic diplomacy, including the installation of statues of Antiochus and his queen Laodice.
In 203 BC, Antiochus paraded his army through the city of Amyzon. After a show of force, he proclaimed the Temple of Apollo and Artemis in the city inviolate (asylon), another show of royal goodwill to a city recently subjected to military actions under Zeuxis.26 Such royal pledges often conflicted with the baser instincts of soldiers, and shortly afterward Antiochus formally rebuked his troops for depredations against shrine of Apollo and Artemis.27
How should we judge the anabasis of Antiochus III? A tremendous disparity exists between the pointed criticism of modern historians and the unqualified praise of ancient authors. Professor Peter Green reflects the line of modern scepticism, suggesting that ‘if the propaganda was good, the actual achievement was insubstantial’.28
Yet other historians have been more optimistic about the concrete benefits of Antiochus’ campaign. Most notably, Michael Rostovtzeff believed the anabasis critical to solidifying Seleucid control over the long-range caravan routes with India and China, making the campaign an economic as well as military and diplomatic boon.29
It is true that Antiochus did not crush all of his opponents unconditionally. But the campaign made Seleucid royal power explicit. Subjects along the line of march saw such power materialize in the forms of infantry and cavalry, endless streams of men embodying an impressive argument in cadence. Aside from the actual fighting in Parthia and Bactria, the procession of troops throughout the Upper Satrapies presented a potent and unambiguous message to any would-be separatist. Such display was a reminder that the King could muster overwhelming force and deploy as far east as the Indus River. Antiochus’ anabasis was not merely symbolic, but rather a physical exercise of coercive power over native people and their rulers.
We can rely on Polybius to offer a more effusive commentary on the success of the expedition (11.34.15–16):
All in all, he secured his kingdom, stunning all his subjects with his audacity and tenacity. Through this campaign, he proved himself worthy of the kingship, not only to the inhabitants of Asia, but to also those living in Europe.
Antiochus’ celebrated the success of his anabasis with a new and aptly chosen royal title: ‘the Great’ (megas), in deliberate imitation of Alexander.30
Chapter Seven
Brave New World
The pact between the kings
In 205 BC, as Antiochus was returning from his Eastern Anabasis, Ptolemy IV died in Alexandria. Since his victory over Antiochus III at Raphia some twelve years earlier, he had gained a reputation as a voluptuary and drunk. As heir, he left behind a five-year-old child, clearly no match for his ferocious counterparts in Antioch and Pella. Both Antiochus III and Philip V were now battle-hardened commanders, secure in their reigns and in the prime of life. The pharaoh’s death was initially kept a secret. According to Polybius, this was so that his epi ton pragmaton Sosibus and the inner circle might solidify their grasp over the hapless young boy, and the regency established for young Ptolemy V quickly degenerated into dysfunctional court strife.
Internal violence wracked Egypt. In 207 BC, a rebellion had erupted in the Thebaid region of southern Egypt. Leading the revolt were the 20,000 native Egyptian hoplites that had been hastily mustered into service ten years before to meet the Seleucid invasion at Raphia. Newly confident in their martial prowess, they mobilized against the dynasty that they now considered foreign occupiers. The rebellious Egyptians nominated their own pharaoh and established him in the traditional royal capital at Memphis.
To make matters worse, the skilled administrator Sosibus died shortly after Ptolemy IV. The regency then devolved to his chief assistant, Agathokles. Agathokles had played the role of the ‘enforcer’ during the regency government, and his sister Agathokleia had entered the women’s quarter
s of the palace to murder Ptolemy V’s mother when she proved too meddlesome. But Agathokles quickly proved unpopular once he became regent. Mob violence erupted in Alexandria, and both Agathokles and his sister were lynched by the crowd in the city’s hippodrome.
The combination of a contested regency and uncontained insurrection showed that the Ptolemaic kingdom was effectively a failed state. Up to this point, the international system of the Eastern Mediterranean had been ‘tri-polar’. The rough equality of Macedonia, Egypt, and the Seleucid Empire maintained a general stability. This system did involve plenty of border disputes (i.e. the Syrian wars) and wars fought through proxies (such as Ptolemaic support for Achaeus), but the basic resource parity of the three ensured that no single one could achieve total domination. When all three dynasties were healthy, a general balance of power prevailed in the Eastern Mediterranean.1
With the death of Ptolemy IV, the third leg of the stool was disrupted. His untimely passing brought about a chain of violence that would ultimately result in Roman intervention and reshape the power dynamics of the Mediterranean world.2
At first, however, the death of Ptolemy IV produced friendship and cooperation between the enemies of the vulnerable Egyptian realm. The Antigonid and Seleucid monarchies already had a long history of such friendly alliance, and Philip V and Antiochus quickly made a secret pact, probably in the year 203. Some modern historians have doubted the validity of this ‘pact between the kings’, arguing that it was the invention of Roman writers seeking to justify their interventions in the Greek world. Despite this, the testimony of Polybius and epigraphic sources provide strong evidence that such a covert pact was authentic.3
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