In 283 the Romans invaded Persian territory again, and the outcome of the war was a new settlement, dividing Armenia between the two rival empires and losing some frontier provinces that Shapur had conquered. The Persians made further concessions in 298 after some less-than-successful fighting under Narseh, another of Shapur’s sons (who had ascended to the throne in the wake of the Kerdir episode). The peace treaty signed then lasted for many years, and Armenia was confirmed as an Arsacid kingdom under Roman protection. A rock-relief at Naqsh-e Rostam shows Narseh being invested with royalty by Anahita, the traditional patroness of the Sassanids. It has been suggested that this signified a post-Kerdir return to a traditional, more tolerant religious policy.28
In 310 a young boy ascended the throne as Shapur II, after some dispute over the succession. He reigned a long time, until 379. One notable aspect of this reign is that it appears to have consolidated the process of revision, collation, and codification that the Mazdaean religion had been undergoing since the accession of Ardashir, and perhaps before. According to a later Zoroastrian tradition, Ardashir had instructed his high priest to reassemble and complete the dispersed fragments of text and oral tradition that had been preserved. Shapur I ordered that these should be augmented by all the knowledge of science, philosophy, and other fields that could be gathered from sources outside Persia—notably from India and Greece. Finally, Shapur II organized an extended discussion and debate between the various disputing sects of Mazdaism in order to establish a single, authorized doctrine. A priest called Adhurpat endured an ordeal by fire to prove the validity of his arguments. Because he emerged safely, he was permitted to make final liturgical additions to the Avesta. This seems to have been the decisive moment at which the previous differences were resolved and Zoroastrian religion coalesced from its previous disparate elements into a single, unitary orthodoxy—from which, in turn, modern Zoroastrianism derives. From this point on, and acknowledging the arbitrariness of choosing any particular time to mark what was a gradual transition, it makes sense to speak of Zoroastrianism rather than Mazdaism.29
Shortly before Shapur II became shah, Armenia turned Christian, at least officially. During Shapur’s reign the Emperor Constantine designated Christianity the official religion of the Roman Empire too, claiming to be the protector of all Christians everywhere. Thus Christians within Persia became suspect as potential spies and traitors, and this tense situation gradually made the previous tolerance of most of the earlier Sassanid kings difficult to sustain. The new orthodoxy of Zoroastrianism, with its political connections and influence, became intolerant of rivals within Persia, and religious strife resulted. Tension also increased because Constantine was keeping at his court one of Shapur’s brothers, Hormuzd, as a potential claimant to the Persian throne. After learning the trade of war in campaigns against the Arabs (in which he was successful, resettling some defeated tribes to Khuzestan), Shapur II demanded the restitution of the provinces won by Shapur I in northern Mesopotamia and subsequently lost by his successors. War with Rome broke out again, rolling back and forth between 337 and 359, and the Persians eventually took Amida (modern Diyarbakir in Turkey).
In 363 the Emperor Julian, one of the most interesting of the later Roman emperors—a scholar and a pagan who did his best to overturn Constantine’s establishment of Christianity in the empire—launched a campaign to restore Rome’s position in Syria, and to put the Persians in their place. Accompanied by the pretender Hormuzd, Julian, who had been a successful military commander in the West, brought an army of some eighty thousand men down the Euphrates as far as Ctesiphon. But he was dissuaded from a siege and, perhaps by accident, burned his boats. Soon the problems of heat, thirst, supply, and demoralization began to bite in a way that Crassus would have found familiar, and the Romans retreated. Eventually Julian was killed in battle and his successor, Jovian, made a peace that was favorable to the Persians. This treaty restored the frontiers as they had been at the end of the reign of Shapur I, with a few additions. Shapur II was also given a free hand in Armenia, which he proceeded to annex, but desultory fighting continued until his death in 379. The achievements of Shapur II’s reign are all the more remarkable for the fact that, at several points, he had to switch fronts to the East to deal with attacks from the Chionite Huns, who had established themselves in Transoxiana and Bactria.30
STRIFE, REVOLUTION, AND FREE LOVE
Shapur II was a strong, successful king with enormous prestige. But his successors, who inclined to tolerance of religious minorities, a peace-oriented foreign policy, and in some cases measures to uphold justice and protect the poor, had trouble restraining a priesthood and a noble class who were inclined—or maybe even conditioned—to intolerance and war, and who disliked any attempt to mitigate their social supremacy. Ardashir II, Shapur III, and Bahram IV were all murdered or died in suspicious circumstances (Bahram was shot full of arrows by mutinous commanders).31 Their successor, Yazdegerd I, ruled from 399 and kept a peace with the Romans throughout his reign—so much so that the Roman Emperor of the East, Arcadius, asked him to become the guardian of his son, Theodosius. This gesture neatly symbolized the parity of the two empires, which now entered on a phase of partnership. Shahs and emperors cooperated (albeit warily and at a distance) against the internal and external instabilities that menaced them both. The heroic period of ambition-driven warfare was over, and even when war broke out again between the two empires in the sixth century, it was waged not by glory-hungry emperors, but by their generals.
Yazdegerd I also followed a tolerant religious policy. He was friendly to the Jews (who hailed him as the new Cyrus) and employed Jewish officials. It was during his reign that a distinct Persian Christianity emerged to become what is normally called the Nestorian church, the first synod of which was held in AD 410. This measure would have had the obvious effect of detaching Persian Christians from the taint of being a fifth column for the Romans. But not everyone approved. These religious policies made the shah unpopular with the clergy, and Yazdegerd, like his immediate predecessors, was murdered. The fact that his name was taken up by several later successors suggests that his memory was nonetheless respected in court circles.
The reigns following that of Shapur II are significant because they indicate the emergence of a theory of kingship that went beyond a system of alliance or identification with a particular religion or class, to assert that the shah had a duty to uphold justice for all his subjects. That such a theory existed we know from post-Islamic sources, who advised rulers of later times on the basis of patterns and ideas that had been the standard under the Sassanids. The king ruled on the basis of divine grace (kvarrah in Middle Persian/Pahlavi—a concept that goes back to the Avesta and the Achaemenid period, evidenced primarily by success in war) and was allowed to raise taxes and keep soldiers, but only on the basis that he ruled justly and not tyrannically. Injustice and tyranny would break the peace that permitted productive agriculture and trade. That in turn would reduce the tax yield, lessen the king’s ability to reward soldiers, and threaten the stability of his rule. Justice was the key that turned a vicious circle into a virtuous circle. But in practice, the attempts of a king like Yazdegerd to rule justly, according to his judgment, might not accord with the ideas of the Zoroastrian priests. The abstract principle could be used as a weapon by either side.
After some confusion, Yazdegerd was succeeded by his son, Bahram V, also known as Bahram Gur (wild ass) after his enthusiasm for hunting those animals. Bahram became a legendary figure, around whom many popular stories were told. They elaborated on his love of women, music, and poetry, as well as on his generosity and bravery. He had been brought up in Hira by an Arab foster father, and there is evidence that the over-mighty clergy may have disliked this. In war, Bahram Gur was successful at protecting Persian frontiers in the East, re-establishing Persian control of Armenia, and making a treaty with the Romans that provided for religious tolerance in both empires. But his love of hunting was his downfall. He is
believed to have disappeared into quicksand after a mishap while pursuing game in marshland in Media in 438/439.
Yazdegerd II, who succeeded Bahram Gur, seems to have been a ruler more to the liking of the Zoroastrian priesthood. He attempted to re-impose Zoroastrianism on Armenia, provoking a civil war there. He seems also to have permitted renewed persecution of Christians and Jews in Persia proper. Touraj Daryaee, an expert on Sassanid Persia, suggests that Yazdegerd II also inclined to the more east Persian kingly mythology, derived from the Avesta and its references to the Kayanid kings, rather than to the west Persian sub-Achaemenid version.32
Throughout this period the threat from northern and eastern tribal nomads intensified (the Romans came under the same pressure, which is one reason the wars with Rome abated at this time). Yazdegerd II was successful against them for the most part, but in 454 he was forced to retreat. He died three years later. After a dynastic struggle, his son Peroz (Feruz) gained the throne with the help of the people known as the Hephtalite Huns. But the Hephtalites captured him in battle in 469, and Peroz was forced to pay a huge ransom, and to yield territory, in return for his release. This was also a time of hardship, drought, and famine. Peroz renewed the struggle with the Hephtalites in 484 but was killed in battle, and the Persians were utterly defeated. His successor could only fend off his eastern enemies by paying them tribute, and he was eventually deposed.
Kavad I came to the throne in 488 at a time of crisis. The Hephtalites had sliced off a swath of Persia’s eastern provinces. Repeated famines, the exactions of the arrogant nobility, and taxes required to make tribute payments had reduced the peasantry to a miserable state. Provinces in the west and southwest were in revolt.
Then, on top of all this, a version of the Manichaean heresy reappeared in a new, revolutionary movement. Its members preached that since wealth and desire for women caused all the trouble in the world, wealth should be distributed equally—and women should be held in common. (The latter is often thought to have been exaggerated by the sect’s enemies, but there is evidence that “shrines and inns” were established where people could meet and make love freely.)33 The movement has been named Mazdakism after its leader, Mazdak, though some have doubted how central to the phenomenon Mazdak actually was. Kavad himself was apparently converted to the new beliefs, having seen an opportunity to humble the nobles and the clergy. Granaries were thrown open to the people, and land was redistributed. But the nobility and clergy managed to overcome Kavad, imprison him, and replace him with his more malleable brother. The country (especially Mesopotamia, but also other parts) was in turmoil. Eventually, Kavad was able to escape from prison and, with the help of the Hephtalites, reimpose his authority.
The Arab historian Al-Tabari wrote that Kavad escaped through the intervention of his daughter, who went to the prison commander and said she would allow him to sleep with her if she could see her father.34 She stayed with Kavad for one day, then left in the company of a sturdy servant, who was carrying a rolled-up carpet. The commander asked about the carpet, but the girl told him it was the one she had slept on, and since she was having her period, she was going to wash it and bring it back. The commander let the girl go on her way, neglecting to investigate the carpet further “lest he become polluted by it.” But once the girl and the servant were out of the prison, Kavad rolled out of the carpet and they all escaped to the Hephtalites. The superstitious taboo about the impurity of menstrual blood was to prove damaging to the nobles and the clergy. There is a kind of cosmic justice to it.
In the remainder of Kavad’s reign, and in that of his son and successor Khosraw (531–579), the two kings pushed through a number of important reforms that established the Sassanid Empire in something like its final shape. Both kings exploited the chaos caused by the Mazdakite revolution to diminish the power of the nobility and the clergy (this came across most clearly in Kavad’s later years, when Khosraw’s succession was in question—the clergy and nobility were forced to support Khosraw for fear that another of Kavad’s sons, a pro-Mazdakite, would become shah). Perhaps most importantly, the taxation system was reformed, a poll tax was established, and a survey of taxable land was carried out to ensure the taxation was equitable.35 The empire was divided into four sectors, each under the command of a military commander (spahbod) and supported by a chancery (diwan) that kept his troops supplied. In addition, a new clerical office was established—a Protector of the Poor, who reinforced the moral duty of the priesthood to look after the interests of the lowest strata of society (a duty they had presumably neglected before). The reforms created, or certainly greatly strengthened, a new class of dehqans—rural gentry who collected tax in the villages and were themselves small landowners. The dehqans also provided the battle-winning Persian cavalry that dominated the shah’s armies. From now on, though, they were paid and retained by the shah instead of the great noble families. Identifying closely with the shah’s interest, and providing administrators and courtiers as well as soldiers, the dehqan class became the prime means by which the traditions and culture of Sassanid Persia were preserved and transmitted onward after the Islamic conquest.
With these reforms well under way by the 520s, Kavad decided that Mazdak had outlived his usefulness.36 It seems a debate was organized in order to discredit his doctrines, at which not just the Zoroastrian clergy but also the Christians and Jews spoke out against Mazdak. According to the story told much later by Ferdowsi, Kavad then turned Mazdak and his followers over to Khosraw, who had the charismatic communist’s people buried alive—planted head down in a walled orchard, with only their feet showing above the ground. Khosraw then invited Mazdak to view his garden, telling him,
You will find trees there that no-one has ever seen and no-one ever heard of even from the mouth of the ancient sages . . .
Mazdak went to the garden and opened the gate, but when he saw the kind of trees that were planted in Khosraw’s garden he gave a loud cry, and fainted. Khosraw had him strung up by the feet from a gallows, then killed him with volleys of arrows. Ferdowsi concluded,
If you are wise, do not follow the path of Mazdak. And so the nobles became secure in their possessions, and women, and children, and their rich treasures.37
This story may record some aspect of a contemporary memory, and we know that Ferdowsi worked from much earlier accounts of events. We cannot be sure how Mazdak died, but the religious revolution associated with him was an important episode. It did not usher in a new order of shared property (let alone free love). It did weaken the power of the great nobles and bring at least some benefits for the lower classes, though the main beneficiaries were the dehqans. But if we look at it another way, it tells us some important things about the interplay of social and political interests, and the insurrection itself may appear in a different light. Mazdak and his adherents seem, at least initially, to have depended heavily on the authority of the king to get their revolution going. Even if he misjudged the forces that would be released, Kavad handled events cleverly. He was too important to the clergy and the nobles, by the time of his imprisonment, for them to simply kill him. He was the last thing standing between them and utter destruction. The revolution was an overdue reminder to them of the basis of their privileges and the importance of the monarchy in holding society together. Justice, even if not perfect (let alone egalitarian), had to be more than lip-service; and at least the principle of justice gave everyone a legitimate expectation from the system, if not necessarily a right to be heard. The effect of the revolution, like most revolutions, was a broadening of the social bases of political power, releasing new reserves of human energy. The prestige and power of the monarchy were reaffirmed and enhanced, and it now entered what came to be regarded as its golden age.
KHOSRAW ANUSHIRVAN
After his accession in 531, Khosraw continued with his father’s reforms, completing the destruction of the Mazdakites.38 His court became a center for learning, attracting in particular some of the Greek Neoplatonists whose school o
f philosophy had been closed down in Athens by the emperor Justinian. But as Gibbon wrote, these were Platonists “whom Plato himself would have blushed to acknowledge”:
The disappointment of the philosophers provoked them to overlook the real virtues of the Persians; and they were scandalized, more deeply perhaps than became their profession, with the plurality of wives and concubines, the incestuous marriages, and the custom of exposing dead bodies to the dogs and vultures, instead of hiding them in the earth, or consuming them with fire. Their repentance was expressed by a precipitate return, and they loudly declared that they had rather die on the border of the empire, than enjoy the wealth and favour of the Barbarian. From this journey, however, they derived a benefit which reflects the purest lustre on the character of Chosroes [Khosraw]. He required, that the seven sages who had visited the court of Persia, should be exempted from the penal laws which Justinian enacted against his pagan subjects; and this privilege, expressly stipulated in a treaty of peace, was guarded by the vigilance of a powerful mediator.39
Khosraw encouraged the translation of texts from the Greek, Indian, and Syriac languages, and it was apparently in his reign that the game of chess was introduced from India (and probably somewhat amended). He instigated the compilation of a history of Persia, and an astronomical almanac. He upheld the position of Zoroastrianism in the country, but personally took a more rationalist approach, based on his reading of philosophy and of writings from other religions. Through his reputation for wisdom and justice, Khosraw later acquired the title Anushirvan (Khosraw of the Immortal Soul). In the west he was known—partly through his contact with the Neoplatonists—as the philosopher-king. The Arabs, as they recorded later, knew him as “The Just.” He established a magnificent court, and built the palace at Ctesiphon (the great iwan arch of which can still be seen today) along with spreading gardens and precincts that have since disappeared. The reign of Khosraw, for its intellectual achievements, for its exemplification of the Sassanid idea of kingship, was the pinnacle of Sassanid rule. In later centuries it became almost the Platonic form of what monarchy should be, even after the Sassanids themselves had long since disappeared.
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