by David Alkek
After receiving this apparently good news the generals were surprised to hear from their officers that there was still grumbling among the troops. The leaders of the complaining troops sent word that they wanted to meet with Alexander. Six veteran soldiers addressed the King.
"Sire, we are tired of Persia. We are tired of fighting. We don’t want to die here, even in the midst of all this luxury. We miss our homes. You’ve discharged the oldest veterans. Now, we wish for you to dismiss all of us. After all, since you are a god, you no longer have need of our services to realize your purposes."
The last was a veiled insult. He lost his patience and his temper. "Guards, arrest these men. You will all be charged with sedition and spreading mutiny among my troops, and will be executed in the traditional manner, stoning by your own comrades. Take them away."
After the execution, while the troops were still assembled, Alexander addressed them. "My comrades-in-arms, do not think that I don't appreciate all the sacrifices you have made for me. Yes, we have lost thousands of our comrades in battles and to disease, thirst, and starvation. Many more have lost arms, legs or eyes. You who are standing here bear scars of fighting. I dare any of you to show more scars than I have. My body shows the scars of every battle and the marks of every weapon of war.
"You have helped me destroy Darius and win his empire. You have gone with me into the farthest provinces, into India, and across great deserts. But I have rewarded you for all your effort and sacrifice. You now live as conquerors in luxury. You have shared the wealth of Persia. You have married its beautiful women. Now you want to leave all of this and return to the poor mountains, hills, and plains of Macedon and Greece. You should be ashamed for your ungratefulness. However, I grant your wish. I now offer you all permission to go home. Yes, all of you. You are discharged. Go back and report that you deserted your King and left him to the protection of conquered foreigners."
He immediately turned his back to them, and disappeared into his palace. He secluded himself and refused to see anyone. It was a calculated gamble. Either his soldiers would take his permission to leave and go home, or they would be embarrassed and ashamed of their whining and ingratitude. Alexander knew his men and predicted what they would do.
His men were slapped in the face by Alexander's speech. They spoke to one another, ashamed of their rebellion.
"We feel guilty for our ingratitude," one of the men told his officer.
"As you should," he replied. "The King has been very generous to you, and you have thrown it back into his face."
Shame for their action grew through the troops until after three days in which no one had seen Alexander, they decided to march to the palace.
Assembled below his window, a leader of the men pleaded, "Alexander, our King and Commander, please come out and hear us.”
They waited, but he did not appear. We are sorry for our whining and ungratefulness," they shouted.
He still did not appear. One of the junior officers spoke, "Sire, please forgive us and accept us back into your army."
Another officer pleaded, "We will not leave until you forgive us."
Finally, Alexander appeared on the steps of the Palace, dressed in his shining armor. They yelled their fidelity and affection with tears in their eyes, as he held open his arms as if to embrace them.
The Macedonian army's tradition was like a fraternity, and here was its leader. Alexander motioned for quiet, and he shouted, "I forgive you. I love you, as I know that you love me." His eyes were moist.
The men broke into tears with exclamations of joy and appreciation, and surged forward to their commander. They pleaded with them to allow them to kiss him, and he relented. They kissed his hands, his clothing, his armor, his feet, and his hair.
Alexander showed his love and forgiveness for them, and they were reconciled with each other. The men left with warm feelings for their King and leader, and marched back to their camp, singing songs of thanksgiving.
Alexander was moved by this show of affection and loyalty. His spirit lifted and he began to dream of further conquests. He ordered his generals to meet with him and to bring in maps.
When they were settled, Alexander said to them, "The men have shown their loyalty and love for me. I don't want them to get soft with all this luxury and forget that they are Macedonian soldiers." He looked around at his senior officers. "I want to plan future campaigns with you. Let me see those maps."
The generals exchanged looks. They raised eyebrows with questions behind them of what Alexander was going to propose.
"Look here," he said pointing to Arabia, "this is an area south of Mesopotamia. It is hidden behind its wall of desert." He pointed to another area adjacent to his Empire. "And here around the great Caspian Sea are areas we have yet to explore."
The generals nodded that what Alexander said was true. They let him prattle on. "We can also go west of Greece. There are still fresh troops in Macedon, which we can join with Greeks in Sicily and southern Italy. We can conquer all of Europe to the Gates of Hercules."
His generals allowed Alexander to dream and plan further campaigns that they knew he could not and would not attempt. They congratulated Alexander on his health and told him that they would consider his plans and return with suggestions.
After they left, the generals discussed the meeting. "I am glad that he is feeling well enough to plan new conquests," said one. "But his body will not let him."
"He looks much older and weaker," said another. "His once magnificent body has suffered from injuries and disease."
"Not only that," said Craterus, "but his numerous campaigns, battles and near death through the desert have taken a terrible toll on him."
Ptolemy spoke up, "His spirit has also been wounded by the conspiracies of his officers and the mutinies of his men. He has sought to numb his mind with heavy drink.”
Lysimachus summarized their thoughts. "In spite of his bravado and unrealistic dreams of further conquests, there underlays in Alexander a corrupted body and spirit."
They went to their homes agreeing not to encourage Alexander's plans for future campaigns.
It was not long afterward that Alexander received devastating news from Ecbatana. While he was with part of the army there, Hephaestion, Alexander's dearest companion, died of disease. Alexander was heartbroken, crying and tearing his clothes.
As the body of Hephaestion was being brought to Susa, Alexander prepared an elaborate funeral. He read a report about his friend's illness. It stated that he had a fever and that his Greek physician was treating him."
"Yes, Sire," one of Hephaestion's officers said, "but the physician left his side to attend the public games. While he was gone, his patient became worse and died."
Alexander exploded in rage. "Arrest that ignorant physician for the murder of my companion. Have him whipped to death. With each lash, maybe he'll be sorry for leaving his patient to die."
When Hephaestion's body arrived in Susa, Alexander had it put in a place of honor in his palace. He lay prostrate across it for hours, tears staining the expensive robes that he had it dressed with. He cut off his hair in mourning and refused any food for three days.
When told that his orders for a gigantic funeral pyre and memorial celebration for his friend would cost ten thousand talents, Alexander shouted, "I don't care. How much is a dearest friendship worth? Ten thousand talents? A million? It is priceless."
After the funeral he sent word to Ecbatana. "In the campaign, have the next tribe that opposes you completely slaughtered, as a sacrifice to Hephaestion's spirit.”
Phidias again felt dismayed over Alexander's excesses. There was nothing he could say or do any longer to dissuade the troubled young man. He knew that Alexander was haunted by his thoughts of Achilles, whom he had long identified with. The hero of Troy did not long survive the death of his own dear friend and lover, Patroclus.
All men have monsters that lurk within them, eating at their entrails, waiting to emerge and destroy the
m and all that they love. They try and most succeed at keeping the monsters submerged, but drink, or drugs, or emotional loss, or violence will unchain them. Alexander, too, had his monsters. His were inherited tendencies to violence, jealousy, and insatiable ambition. His angst was that he wanted so badly to fulfill his dreams of the unity of peoples and nations, yet they were thwarted by the selfish interests of others, and his own weaknesses of drunkenness and violence.
Alexander struggled to discover the self within, to be noble, magnanimous, far-sighted, and philosophical in the largest sense, to live up to the ideals that Aristotle tried to instill in him. However, the dark side of his nature arose from time to time to overshadow the good, the altruistic, and the noble part. He could not forever campaign and fight battles to keep the bad tendencies at bay. Violence and bloodshed of battle only seemed to dehumanize him and feed the evil side. The inactivity and boredom of peace allowed the nightmares of death and destruction to haunt him. He tried more drink to drown the black memories in a sea of wine, but they continued to float up and consume him.
After the death of Hephaestion, Alexander and his court moved to Babylon. Day after day and night after night, he abandoned himself more and more to heavy drinking. During one night of revelry with his officers, he proposed a drinking match. "To whoever can drank the most wine I will give a talent in gold." The men all yelled in excitement and competed for the prize.
One of the younger lieutenants downed twelve quarts of wine. Amid shouts of congratulations and approval, Alexander bestowed the prize on the drunken officer. He staggered off, but never enjoyed his prize, for he died three days later.
Shortly afterward, at another of the seemingly endless schedule of banquets, Alexander quaffed a large bowl of six quarts of wine. He passed out afterward, but attended another dinner the next night and drank heavily again. Alexander slept most of the next day. When he awoke he complained of a raging headache.
One of his Persian attendants brought in some hot soup. "The weather has turned cold, Great King. Your guards did not cover you or light a fire when they brought you to bed last night."
Alexander coughed. "I'll be all right. I'll just go back to sleep."
"Let me call the physician. He is Persian and will help you feel better."
"Perhaps he can give me something. My muscles ache and my head throbs."
The physician examined Alexander. Your exhaustion and drinking have weakened your constitution, Great King. You have a fever. I will prepare a draught for you, but you must remain in bed."
The fever raged for ten days, while Alexander grew weaker and weaker. His officers became alarmed and finally could not speak. One by one his captains filed past his bed, touching his garments or kissing his hand. Tears filled her eyes as they looked at the spent body wracked with fever.
Alexander was unable to do anything more than lift a hand or blink in a sign of recognition. On the eleventh day he died, not yet thirty-three years old.
Phidias watched Alexander's sad decent into alcoholic debauchery, illness, and death. He commented to his philosopher friends. “In a frenzy of drunken excess, the darkening storm clouds of unthinking barbarism finally overwhelmed his noble intentions and clear reasoning, and he killed his friends and himself. What a tragedy. What a waste. A talented and heroic life thrown away at its zenith. Such potential lost, flung away by a senseless act, which was again a flaw in his character.”
"I must admit," Gorgas replied, "Alexander was the bravest of soldiers, but not the brightest of generals. He supplied the inspiration for the courage and ferocity of his soldiers. His perseverance and reckless energy, regardless of the impossibilities, led to unprecedented victories. But it was most likely his generals, whose organization and tactics supplied the strategy for his victories."
Phidias added, "He had great leadership abilities, they were reinforced by his brilliant imagination, the fire of his oratory skill, and the sincerity in which he shared the hardships of his men."
"Whatever his weaknesses of character," Pharacrates replied, "history will remember him as a conquering genius. It may have been just as well that he died at a young age, while still at his peak. More years, would surely have brought more sorrow and disappointment. He could never have fulfilled all his dreams. They were more than he could accomplish, even if he were a god."
"So true," lamented Phidias, "but perhaps a mellowing age would have taught him to love governing more than he loved war."
Gorgas said, "Alexander could not resist the inexorable force of Nemesis, the spirit sent by the gods to punish prideful mortals.”
Phidias added his opinion as a historian. "We who write and study his history feel a natural sympathy for this tortured hero. We know, that despite his cruelties and superstition, he was at base, a generous and affectionate youth. He was undeniably a brave and able leader that fought against his own heritage of bloodthirsty barbarism. Through all the savage battles, bloody sieges, and executions, he kept in front of him the dream of bringing the light of civilization that came from Athens to a larger world.”
Later in his chambers, Phidias wrote down in his chronicles that he would later gather into a book. "When Alexander left Macedon to invade Asia, he would never see Europe again. He would live only eleven more years, but in that time, he would conquer the largest empire up until his day. He would meld the civilizations of Greece and Persia together, and create a new culture. He would found a dozen cities and give them his name. He would leave a brilliant legacy of heroism and military genius.
"Alexander endeared himself to his men and officers by his openness, generosity, and kindliness, risking their lives, but feeling their wounds as if they were his own. His reputation for fairness and mercy helped him in his campaigns, enemy forces and cities allowing themselves to be taken without fear of slaughter. On the other hand, the blood of the Mollosian tigress flowed within him, and arose in paroxysms of cruelty. The occasional spasms of sadism and barbarism made bitter his final fate.
"Many historians, emphasizing his super-human victories and conquests, may tend to overlook the darker side of his personality. Other historians will chronicle the bloodletting, wanton slaughter, torture, and murder ordered by him. I knew both sides of his brilliant yet tormented character.
“He could lead tens of thousands of men in battle, conquer vast lands, and rule millions, but he could not control his own temper. Unable to recognize his own faults and limitations, he would allow his judgments to be influenced by flattery and praise. He became convinced of his own invincibility and that he was indeed divine. In his own mind he could do no wrong, and thus was prone to violent and impulsive acts. He lived in a maelstrom of action, victories, and glory, and so loved war, that his mind never knew a time of peace.
"Nevertheless, we remain amazed by the exploits of this young conqueror, who was never defeated in a hundred battles, who unified the eastern Mediterranean world all the way to India, who spread Greek civilization, language and ideas, and who will probably remain one of the most brilliant and enigmatic personalities of history."
Chapter 31
Before Alexander set out to invade Asia, he ensured himself of a stable and complacent Greece, by leaving behind governments that were favorable to him. The populations of those cities remained hostile to him, however, even if he was a conqueror of Persia. In particular Athens because of its long tradition of freedom and history of its own empire, resented the brilliant world-conqueror as a despot. Demosthenes enflamed the populace with his fiery eloquence, as he spoke from the areopagus. "….. and where is your Empire now, oh Athens, your navy that ruled the Aegean, and your treasure that overflowed from your temples? Have you forgotten the glory brought by Pericles? You and Sparta threw back the Persians in defeat. Now we are asked to bow down to Alexander, the god-king, who has taken the place of the Persian despot.
"How long must we suffer under the heel of the Macedonian overlords? They say that they have left Athens to govern itself, but that is a hollow and
meaningless concession. What do we govern? We have no army, no navy, and no empire. We cannot make alliances or treaties. And, we must pay taxes to maintain the Macedonian army that oppresses us.
"Show these Macedonians that we resent their oppression. We do not share in their adoration of Alexander. Tell them to go back to Pella and let us govern ourselves, so that we may once again enjoy the wealth and power that once was Athens’."
The people yelled their approval. A band of youths roamed the streets afterward, beating up Macedonians they happened across. They spied a small detachment of soldiers coming from the harbor and began to pelt them with stones. The soldiers quickly drew their swords and chased the youth, catching one unfortunate fellow whose scalp was split open with the flat of a sword.
Aristotle had left Pella the same year as Phillip’s victory at Chaeronea. After a four year period of traveling he returned to Athens. He naturally associated himself with the Macedonian party in his approval and support of Alexander, not only because Alexander had been Aristotle's student, but that he was conquering and unifying Asia under Greek rule. He much preferred unification and pacification of Greece over Athenian patriotism, realizing that philosophy would flourish in Athens when the petty squabbling and rebellion were ended.
Aided by funds from Alexander, Aristotle opened a school of rhetoric and philosophy on his return to Athens when he was fifty-three years of age. He chose as the site of his new school, a group of buildings comprising the most elegant of Athens’ gymnasiums. It was dedicated to Apollo Lyceus, the God of shepherds, and was graced with shade trees, gardens, and covered walkways. Even in the hostile environment of Athens, pupils flocked to the teacher of the King of Kings.
The school was soon called the Lyceum from these fields dedicated to Lyceus. In the mornings Aristotle taught advanced subjects to his regular students, and in the afternoons gave lectures to a popular adult audience on rhetoric, poetry, ethics and politics.