On judging Alexander: a matter of honour.
Atkinson, John
ABSTRACT
Cartledge's insistence that Alexander was guided by the heroic
'moral code of honour' is considered in terms of paradigms
established in Stewart's Honor, and in contrast with Holt's
view of the 'Homeric code'. This paper deals first with
Alexander's pursuit of honour in the successive phases of his
career, and then with his attempt to accommodate competing codes of
honour as he won control of the Achaemenid Empire.
Introduction
In his recent monograph on Alexander the Great, Cartledge briefly
summarises a variety of modern judgements on his subject, and concludes,
'Roisman rightly injects a note of sanity by establishing the moral
code of honour according to which Alexander would have acted.' (1)
Similarly, Holt insists that Alexander should be judged by the values by
which he lived, which he takes to be 'the Homeric code'. (2)
Cartledge's reference is to Roisman's treatment of 'Honor
in Alexander's campaign', (3) and Roisman does indeed use the
expression 'a code of honour' (p. 281), when summarising
Stewart's characterisation of one model of honour. (4) But
Cartledge seems to miss the thrust of Roisman's paper, for Roisman
concludes that Alexander strove to remove 'any sense of equality
between himself and others in his camp or empire', and did this by
claiming 'superior honor and rank on the basis of his personal
wealth, his office, and his ultimate control over the resources and
symbols of his empire' (p. 321).
There is then some confusion here between two models of honour,
labelled, as in Stewart's Honor, vertical and horizontal. The
vertical model has to do with winning honour and recognition as being
superior by virtue of rank, power or signal achievement. The emphasis is
on competitiveness and securing honour as a reward. But the horizontal
model has to do with an entitlement to respect as a member of a group at
whatever level, and linked with this is acceptance of an agreed code of
conduct; and when Roisman uses the expression 'code of honour'
he is referring to this horizontal, more egalitarian model.
Cartledge speaks of Alexander as frequently appearing 'to have
acted in accordance with the aristocratic-heroic values of Homer'
(p. 202), which Cartledge seems to define by his following reference to
'the general Greek notion of philotimia, or competitive seeking of
honour and fame' (203). Thus, presumably, honour depended upon
recognition by one's peers and inferiors, and not upon the voice of
conscience. But Cartledge dulls the distinction by referring to
'the moral code' as synonymous with 'the code of
honour'. By contrast, Holt is clearly not imagining the heroic code
as a moral code when he writes of the Macedonians of Philip's day
as holding fast 'to the heroic warrior code of Homer's Iliad
and Odyssey', as he goes on to say: 'In battles, brawls and
drinking bouts, the Macedonians measured a man from king to commoner by
the implacable standards of Achilles and Agamemnon'. (5) Elsewhere
Holt says, 'others aspired to greatness, Alexander to
greatestness.' (6) This might be described as the heroic code. (7)
In any case, there is the broader issue of what is meant by the
Homeric or heroic code of honour. Adkins' line that it asserted
competitive values over against co-operative values may present too
stark an antithesis, even when limited to the Homeric poems. (8) There
is also unease about the common view that the heroic code reflects a
'shame-culture' as opposed to a 'guilt culture'. (9)
But such reservations about the characterisation of the Homeric code as
competitive, do not justify the introduction of the term
'moral' as a necessary part of the definition. Further, the
modern debate on the political message of the Iliad suggests that one
should also distinguish between the heroic code and the Homeric lesson.
(10) The Iliad can be taken as introducing the values of
proto-democracy, with the twin principles of competitiveness and
co-operation, or competition from an egalitarian base at the level of
the aristocracy. (11) Agamemnon cannot dominate simply by power, but has
to learn to negotiate, to give advice, but also to listen to it (Iliad
9.100). (12)
Then there are issues relating to post-Homeric literature. For
Alexander was reputedly a literate man, with a proclaimed passion for
Euripides no less than Homer. (13) So if Alexander took a serious
interest in Euripides' tragedies, one can hardly use the influence
of the Homeric code as sufficient to explain, if not mitigate,
Alexander's outbursts of megalomaniac behaviour. A more pernicious
influence might have been Aristotle's advocacy of the assertiveness
of the megalopsyches. Still, Lucian has Hannibal taunt Alexander with
the line that, though he did not have the benefit of an education in
Greek literature, he did not kill his friends at banquets (Dial. Mort.
77.25 (12) Macleod). (14) There is the further problem for the historian
that our sources were quite capable of recasting episodes to bring out
Homeric associations or give them tragic colouring. (15)
The phases in Alexander's career as king
It would seem to be a mistake to assume that Alexander was
inspired, or constrained, by the same code of honour from his accession
to his last days. Several phases in his career may be delineated. First
there was the period after he first became king and had to establish
himself as Philip's rightful successor. Here his mission was to
project an image of himself as the embodiment of the ideals of the
Macedonian monarchy, and in this phase Homeric parallels are of some
value in reconstructing a picture of how the Macedonian system worked.
(16) Then, when he was established in power, it is probably true that a
driving force in Alexander's planning was a desire to rival and
surpass his father. (17)
Alexander inherited the situation that a Macedonian expeditionary
force had been operating in Hellespontine Phrygia and beyond, but by 334
Parmenion held little more than Abydos on the Asian side of the
Hellespont. (18) Thus it is rather an exaggeration to say that 'the
invasion of the Persian Empire was Alexander's inescapable
legacy.' (19) Still, the situation presented Alexander with the
opportunity to establish his position as a warrior king in the Homeric
mould, (20) and he followed up on what Philip had planned with the
Corinthian League. Thus in 334 he joined up with Parmenion's forces
and crossed into Asia, which event he inaugurated with a visit to Troy
and a ceremony at the tomb of Achilles. But Cartledge goes too far by
suggesting that by crossing the Hellespont and performing the rituals at
Troy, Alexander was 'probably' signalling an intent 'to
conquer at least the existing Achaemenid Empire as a whole.' (21)
Philip had failed in what Isocrates saw as the more realisable goal of
liberating the Greek cities of Asia Minor and then guaranteeing their
freedom by winning control of Asia Minor as a whole (5.119-23). That had
to be Alexander's first objective.
In any case, from 334 Alexander was not just the supreme commander
of the Macedonian forces, but also the hegemon of a panhellenic army,
with a mission defined not by the Trojan War, but by the oath supposedly
taken by the Greeks in or after 479 to seek retribution for the acts of
atrocity and sacrilege committed by Xerxes and his Persian army. (22)
But the account of the first campaign in 334 shows that there was no
master plan and Alexander learnt that he had more to gain by being less
heavy-handed with the local Greeks. Thus, after he reached Ephesus, he
commissioned Alcimachus to clear Persian garrisons and quisling tyrants
out of Ionian cities, and to establish democracies in their place; at
Priene he associated himself with the dedication of the new temple of
Athena. (23) In such ways he presented himself as the friend and
champion of democracy and Hellenic culture.
Alexander advanced to Gordium in the spring of 333 and accepted the
oracular challenge by slashing through the famous knot with his sword to
claim that he was destined to be the 'lord of Asia' (A. 2.3.6;
Curtius 3.1.16; Justin 11.7.4). This at least was confirmation that his
aim was to control Asia Minor, but opened the possibility that his
ambition was conquest of the whole Persian empire.
Another clear echo of Homeric epic occurs in Curtius' account
of Alexander's seizure of Gaza in 332 BC. The commander of the
garrison, the eunuch Batis/Betis, was captured and his defiant mien
angered Alexander, who ordered his punishment: 'Thongs were passed
through Betis' ankles while he still breathed, and he was tied to a
chariot. Then Alexander's horses dragged him around the city while
the king gloated at having followed the example of his ancestor Achilles
in punishing his enemy' (4.6.29). For Achilles had put thongs
through the ankles of Hector's corpse and had dragged him round
behind his chariot (Iliad 22.359-404), which Homer labels a shameful
action (395). (24) But Curtius is the only writer to record this
episode, and while Hector suffered this indignity after death, Betis was
still alive. (25) Furthermore, Curtius' Latin here provides an
intertextual reference to Vergil, Aeneid 2.270-73. Even if the episode
were historical, the model of Achilles would hardly excuse
Alexander's action. (26)
Alexander's visit to the oracle at Siwah, and the diplomatic
exchanges with Darius introduced progressive escalation in
Alexander's declared intent, and here I would differ from
Bloedow's implication that, as a war of conquest was inherent in a
war of revenge, Philip and Alexander both started with the acceptance
that the two were interlocked. Bloedow concludes that 'the extent
of the conquest would depend on just when the Great King was
eliminated.' (27)
In the next phase, after finally defeating Darius at Gaugamela,
Alexander had the window of opportunity to change the rules and set his
own standards. Admittedly, initially little had changed, as Darius fled
eastwards to regroup in Bactria, and the war would continue.
Alexander's immediate response was to head south, and when he
reached Babylon he adopted the role of liberator, as he had done in
Egypt. This also meant that he was making a sharper distinction between
the Persians and the other peoples of Asia. This helps to explain the
mass murder of Persians when he reached Persepolis at the end of 331.
The heroic code of conduct hardly explains Alexander's viciousness
here, but the history of prejudice against Persians is of some
importance, for 'once the concept of "otherness" takes
root, the unimaginable becomes possible.' (28) Of course race
prejudice and demonisation can be activated for political purposes, and
can similarly be switched off or fade. (29) Indeed, Greek attitudes to
the Persians were certainly not consistently hostile from 479 down to
Alexander's day: an example of Greek willingness to treat Persians
on individual merit appears in Xenophon's account of the exchange
between Agesilaus and Pharnabazus (Hellenica 4.1. 29-40), on which J.M.
Cook notes the Greeks' admiration for Pharnabazus'
'almost Homeric sense of honour'. (30) From 334 Alexander had
been justifying his war by the history of Persian aggression under
Darius (Curtius 5.6.1) and Xerxes (A. 2.14.4; Curtius 5.6.1), and with
more immediate charges against Darius III. Xerxes' destruction of
Greek temples was no doubt used to justify Alexander's wars to
Greeks long before it was invoked as a reason for destroying Persepolis.
(31) Furthermore, it seems likely that Alexander did vilify the
Persians, as Arrian suggests in Alexander's speech before the
battle of Issus (A. 2.7.3-9). (32) All this helps to explain the
massacre when Alexander arrived in Persepolis, and then the systematic
destruction of the royal city, when he left in May 330. Against this
background it is not clear that the heroic code of conduct explains
Alexander's viciousness here, especially as Alexander himself is
said to have regretted the destruction of Persepolis later. And the
'othering' of the Persians was hardly a strategy that could be
attributed to Homeric influence, as the Greek leaders in the Iliad do
not treat the Trojans with racist contempt: Achilles is out of line in
his treatment of Hector. (33) In any case it can be argued that the
second round of destruction was something of an exercise in
team-building, as Alexander prepared for the march north and the next
confrontation with Darius. (34)
But another major battle with Darius was not to be, as Darius was
murdered by Satibarzanes and Barsaentes (A. 3.21.10), with or without
the prior agreement of Bessus, the satrap of Bactria, who had hoped to
trade Darius, but found that Alexander was not minded to trade or take
prisoners. Thus from 330 Alexander effectively replaced Darius as king
of the Persian empire, or, as he may have preferred to see it, as the
king of Asia. After he reached Bactria, Alexander began to adopt
elements of Persian court ritual, including proskynesis, in part to
provide continuity for his new subjects, who would now accord him
respect in the same way as they had Darius. This naturally riled his
Macedonian troops and Alexander went into a defensive mode, insisting on
loyalty to his vision. Victims of his intolerance now included
Callisthenes, Philotas and Parmenion, and Cleitus. Heroic inspiration
has been claimed for the wild banquet at which Alexander killed his
friend Cleitus in a drunken rage: thus Sp. Marinatos writes that
'Alexander himself organised turbulent banquets where they all
drank too much; but this is exactly a heroic, a Mycenaean feature',
and Holt says that the situation began in the 'customary' way
with binge-drinking, while 'the gritty warriors boasted of their
prowess in Homeric fashion, each one competitive and unduly sensitive to
any perceived slight from his peers.' (35) Cartledge recognises
that Alexander was 'blind drunk and out of control', but tones
this down in the following reference to the manslaughter as his
'unthinking action' (p. 72). But philosophers and rhetoricians
were less understanding and treated the murder of Cleitus as a prime
example of unjustified abandonment to anger. (36)
At the Hyphasis it is not impossible that Alexander used Coenus to
set up the mutinous scene that allowed him to appear to be persuaded not
to advance further east to the Ganges. To defend his honour, Alexander
could boast that in getting as far as the Hyphasis he had travelled
further east than Dionysus, and he had taken the Rock of Aornus on the
Indus, which Heracles had been unable to seize (A. 5.26.5; Curtius
8.11.2). So Alexander could turn back having already succeeded where
Dionysus and Heracles had failed. A second line of justification for
turning back was created by the staging of a sacrifice on the Hyphasis,
which had to be aborted because the sacrificial victims proved to be
unpropitious (A. 5.28.4). (37) But the image was all important and
Alexander chose to make his point by extending the boundaries of the
camp he was leaving behind, and by erecting for posterity twelve massive
altars, one for each Olympian deity, and couches of similar extreme
proportions (Curtius 9.3.19; A. 5.29.1; Plut. Alex. 62.8; D.S. 17.95.1).
From this point, as Alexander was returning to the west, the test was
not whether he could conquer, but whether he could control what he had
conquered.
The journey down the Indus was eventful enough, but worse was to
follow when Alexander made his way westwards through the Gedrosian
desert. His logistics failed and some 75% of those with Alexander lost
their lives (Plut. Alex. 66.4). (38) Alexander could blame satraps for
failing to provide supplies, but ultimately he carried the
responsibility, and it is not clear that he ever fully recovered the
confidence of his troops.
In this final phase, his decisions became stranger, as when he sent
an envoy Nicanor to the Olympic Games in 324 to announce that all Greek
cities were to take back their exiles, despite all the political and
economic problems that this would cause. (39) The crisis which this
edict created was compounded by the flight to Greece of Alexander's
treasurer, Harpalus, with a large amount of money that he had looted
from the treasury in Babylon. The Harpalus affair showed that
Alexander's authority in Greece and Macedonia was unclear: demands
for Harpalus' arrest and surrender were made to Athens separately
by Antipater, Olympias and Philoxenus the satrap of Caria. (40)
Alexander faced the challenge whether to content himself with being king
of Asia or to head west.
While Alexander was in Carmania, he gave orders for the
construction of ships at Thapsacus, and instructed that they were to be
sailed down to Babylon (A. 7.19.3-4; Plut. Alex. 68.2; Strabo
16.1.11.741). Part of his plan was to establish colonies around the
Persian Gulf (A. 7.19.5). It was even said that Alexander planned to
conquer and colonise Arabia to force the Arabs to recognise him as their
third god, beside Uranus and Dionysus, and so acknowledge that he had
equalled Dionysus' achievements. (41) The formal pretext for
military action in Arabia was that the Arabs had failed to send envoys
as reason and protocol demanded, and thus had not voluntarily
surrendered to him. (42) Quite separately, Alexander issued orders for
the construction of 1000 ships for operations in 'the west',
and specifically to assist in a campaign to destroy Athens (J. 13.5.7).
The picture is complicated by the tradition that, after
Alexander's death, Perdiccas read out to the troops in Babylon a
memorandum purporting to be Alexander's plans for the future, the
so-called Last Plans, a document, designed to appear credible to the
troops, but fantastic enough to secure their rejection. (43) These
included a campaign to win control of the North African territory as far
as the Pillars of Heracles and then Spain (D.S. 18.4.4; A.7.1.2). Arrian
adds that in some accounts Alexander also had plans to take his fleet
into the Black Sea and the Sea of Azov, and other accounts mentioned
Sicily and the Iapygian promontory (A. 7.1.3). And there was even a
tradition that Alexander planned to circumnavigate Africa (an
extravagance noted by A. 7.1.2 and Plut. Alex. 68.2). (44) But the fact
remains that Alexander had plans for launching two major naval
operations, in the eastern Mediterranean and around the Arabian
peninsula. It is possible that he did entertain the idea of a punitive
campaign against the Carthaginians as a matter of honour--enough to
alarm experienced officers and war-weary troops.
Some ancient writers were, it seems, reluctant to accept that
Alexander's plans for the conquest of Arabia were partly motivated
by rivalry with Dionysus, but scholars are now more prepared to take the
idea seriously. (45) Cartledge thinks that Alexander progressed from
emulating Achilles, to rivalling Heracles and finally Dionysus.
Cartledge concludes: 'Perhaps all that was left was to compete with
himself as a god presiding over a universal empire? That would certainly
have been "striving to better the best", a thoroughly modern
version of the age-old Homeric aristocratic ideal.' (46) It could
be argued that Cartledge reflects an incomplete image of the Homeric
code of honour. But even if he is right, it is questionable whether
Alexander's plans for further campaigns in 324-23 could be
described as guided by a 'moral code of honour'.
Competing codes
If Alexander was going to humiliate the peoples he conquered, he
had to be prepared to use force to ensure that they stayed humiliated and submissive. (47) But if there were logistical or moral limits to the
amount of force he could use, then it made sense to avoid gratuitous
humiliation of his new subjects. If Alexander's mission was to do
more than raid, loot, rape, slash and burn, he had to show some respect
for the codes of conduct by which the people he conquered lived. This he
obviously did when he chose to pose as the liberator of the Egyptians
and then the Babylonians. Thus we may ask to what extent Alexander
compromised his own honour by showing respect for the conventions of the
peoples he defeated.
A motif of the sources is the respect which Alexander showed for
the female members of the Persian royal family, and in particular
Sisygambis. Curtius relates that while Alexander was in Susa at the end
of 331, he received a gift from Macedon of garments, bales of purple
cloth and seamstresses. Alexander told Sisygambis that if she liked the
garments, she could have the material and the seamstresses to teach her
granddaughters how to make the garments. The queen mother melted into
tears, because she did not like to admit to Alexander that there was no
greater disgrace for a Persian lady than to work in wool. Alexander
brought an amicable end to this embarrassing situation (Curtius
5.2.17-22). Of course Sisygambis as the queen mother had a special role
in Persian dynastic politics, so that Alexander's treatment of her
need not suggest a willingness in general terms to respect the Persian
code of honour with regard to women. And, for the contrast, after
Alexander's troops overran the Persian camp at Issus in 333, the
common troops scrambled to grab jewellery and anything of value, and in
the process engaged in gratuitous violence against the women (D.S.
17.35.4-7; Curtius 3.11.21-23). Carney plausibly suggests that this
brutal treatment was 'probably more typical'. (48) But
Alexander probably did adopt a milder approach after the sack of
Persepolis.
Much is made of Alexander's chivalrous respect for
Darius' widow, Stateira, but then there is the awkward tradition
that she died in childbirth, two years after her capture (Plut. Alex.
30.1; Justin 11.12.6-8). Then there is the case of Roxane, daughter of
the Bactrian baron Oxyartes. After Alexander's capture of
Oxyartes' fortress in the latter part of 328, Alexander met Roxane
and took her as his wife, for she was 'the most beautiful woman in
Asia they had seen apart from Darius' wife' (A. 4.19.5).
Roxane was the first prize and Alexander claimed her for himself, making
the connection between his action and Achilles' taking of Briseis
(Curtius 8.4.26). But Alexander was more likely following his
father's policy of using marriage as a means of winning over
another princely family. (49) The marriage also forged a bond between
Alexander and the Bactrians, and this caused resentment amongst
Macedonians of a nationalistic disposition. (50) Achilles and Agamemnon
might clash over the prize of a playmate, but they were respectably
married, to Deidameia and Clytaemnestra respectively, and had sons by
them, but Alexander had not married before he left Macedon, and there
was no all Macedonian heir. Thus Roxane was more than another Briseis.
(51) So by what code of honour does one explain Alexander's
appropriation of Roxane?
But Alexander was not finished with marriage as an instrument of
policy, for in 324 at Susa he organised a mass marriage ceremony, in the
Persian manner, for himself and 91 of his Companions (A. 7.4.4-8; Athen.
12.538bc). He himself took as additional wives Darius' daughter
Stateira and Parysatis, the daughter of Artaxerxes III Ochus. At the
same time, he registered as marriages the partnerships of some 10 000 of
his Macedonian troops with their Asian women. This was surely an
exercise in social engineering, to confirm the ranks of honour in his
Asian empire. We lack evidence as to whether Asian women who did not
resist the charms of these Macedonian troops faced the risk of honour
killing by their families. In any case, Macedonian troops rebelled
against the way Alexander was giving preference to Persian nobles by
means of the marriages, appointments and adoption of their customs. This
erupted into a mutiny at Opis.
Another catalyst for this mutiny was the arrival in Susa of the 30
000 sons of noblemen from the eastern satrapies, known as the Epigonoi
(A. 7.6.1-2; Plut. Alex. 71.1), who had been rounded up earlier (52) and
trained for service as a separate force in Alexander's army. From
the Persian point of view Alexander's scheme was an adaptation of
an Achaemenid practice, as the Persian king used to demand of subject
peoples each year a contingent of boys to serve the king. The
Babylonians supplied a contingent of 500, labelled kurtash to
distinguish them from outright slaves (garda). (53) Alexander presumably
set up this corps of young Persians in the same way, as conscripts, but
with a higher level of function in the new order, and thus showed
respect for what Persians would accept as honourable in terms of
Achaemenid precedent. Ordinary Macedonian troops resented this
development and saw it as a threat to their position and a challenge to
their honour. At the same time Persians were brought in to swell the
ranks of the phalanx. Macedonian warriors would now be odd men out in an
army of soldiers.
Conclusion
There were distinct phases in Alexander's reign, and he
survived by adapting to new situations. At least sometimes he learnt
from his mistakes and certainly developed ways of harmonising, as far as
he could, the Macedonian model of empire and the traditions of the
Persians and the peoples who had been subject to the Achaemenids. After
turning back at the Hyphasis, he gradually lost the confidence of his
troops, and indeed seems to have gradually lost touch with reality, as
can be seen in his preoccupation with winning divine honours. It does
not seem that invocation of the Homeric or heroic code of honour,
whether as the virtues demonstrated on the battlefield (note 7), or the
raunchy range of talents described by Holt is enough to explain and
justify each action of Alexander in its context. To turn the heroic code
into a moral code looks even more like a case of special pleading to
keep his true admirers satisfied. The Homeric 'moral code of
honour' may serve as a palliative, but is hardly sufficient as the
key to understanding Alexander the Great. But it is tempting to think
that at the end he gave up the will to survive because he sensed the
shame of failure.
John Atkinson
University of Cape Town
jvatkinson@yebo.co.za
* An earlier version of this paper was presented at the CASA
conference in Cape Town in July 2007. I am very grateful to the
anonymous referees for their helpful comments, and crave their pardon
for points not picked up or developed here because of the tight word
limit set for this issue.
(1) P. Cartledge, Alexander the Great: the Hunt for a New Past
(London 2004) 308.
(2) Frank L. Holt, Alexander the Great and the Mystery of the
Elephant Medallions (Berkeley 2003) 134 and 151.
(3) J. Roisman, 'Honor in Alexander's campaigns', in
J. Roisman (ed.), Brill's Companion to Alexander the Great (Leiden
2003) 279-321.
(4) F.H. Stewart, Honor (Chicago & London 1994).
(5) Holt (note 2) 7. It remains to consider other aspects of the
Macedonian code, such as the treatment of women and homosexual activity.
(6) Holt (note 2) 162.
(7) As in Hom. Il. 6.208 and 11.784. J.M. Redfield, Nature and
Culture in the Iliad (Durham 1994) 100 describes it as zero-sum system,
requiring 'a definite set of virtues' that could only be
demonstrated on the battlefield.
(8) So M. Finkelberg, 'Time and arete in Homer', CQ 48
(1998) 14-28, with reference to A.W.H. Adkins, Merit and Responsibility:
A Study in Greek Values (Oxford 1960), esp. 30-85.
(9) Thus, for example, D.L. Cairns, Aidos (Oxford 1993), in his
introduction to the notions of shame and guilt, contests the ideas that
shame necessarily requires an audience, and that the admission of
failure denotes shame, while the admission of transgression denotes
guilt (14-26).
(10) Cf. Finkelberg (note 8).
(11) Cf. Donna Wilson, Ransom, Revenge and Heroic Identity in the
Iliad (Cambridge 2003), reviewed by G. Zanker, CJ 99 (2004) 349-53.
(12) Cf. D. Hammer, The Iliad as Politics (Norman 2002) on
Homer's presentation of Agamemnon's style of rule.
(13) Plut. Alex. 8.2-3, 51.8; Strabo 13.1.27.594.
(14) Cf. Philo's denunciation of Flaccus, with the remark:
'The man who goes wrong in the full knowledge of what is right has
no defence and already stands convicted at the bar of his
conscience' (In Flaccum 3 and 7, tr. Colson).
(15) A classic study in this field is J.M. Mossman's
'Tragedy and epic in Plutarch's Alexander', JHS 108
(1988) 83-93.
(16) As can be seen in Carol Thomas, Alexander the Great in his
World (Oxford 2007) 59-63, 195. The source material on Macedonian
institutions is meagre, but modern studies are substantial: in English
notably N.G.L. Hammond's The Macedonian State (Oxford 1989).
(17) A major theme of I. Worthington's Alexander the Great
(Harlow 2004); cf. E.A. Fredricksmeyer, 'Alexander and Philip:
emulation and resentment', CJ 85 (1990) 300-15.
(18) Diodorus Siculus (hereafter D.S.) 16.91.2, 17.2.4-6 and 17;
Arrian (hereafter A.) 1.11.6. E. Badian, 'Alexander the Great and
the Greeks of Asia', in Ancient Society and Institutions: Studies
Presented to Victor Ehrenberg (Oxford 1966) 39-41.
(19) Cartledge (note 1) 164.
(20) As Fredricksmeyer (note 17) 304 would put it.
(21) Cartledge (note 1) 165.
(22) Texts relevant to this debate include Lycurgus, Leocr. 80;
D.S. 11.29.2 and Thuc. 1.96.1.
(23) See further Badian (note 18) 37-69.
(24) R. Lane Fox, Alexander the Great (London 1973) 193 tries to
shift the blame for the killing of Betis onto the Thessalians.
(25) Admittedly Hector was alive when dragged behind Achilles'
chariot according to Soph. Aj. 1029-31 and Eur. Androm. 339.
(26) J. Shay, Achilles in Vietnam (New York 1995) 118 notes that
'Homer's critique of Achilles' loss of respect for the
enemy pervades the Iliad', and that this failure betokens his
'loss of humanity and moral disintegration'.
(27) E. Bloedow, 'Why did Philip and Alexander launch a war
against the Persian Empire?', AC 72 (2003) 261-74, quotation from
p. 273. Thuc. 1.96.1 indicates that Greeks from 478 BC thought of
punitive action rather than the conquest of the Persian Empire.
Furthermore, Alexander's symbolic crossing of the river Halys need
not have signalled the intent to conquer the Persian Empire.
(28) S. Drakulic, The Balkan Express (New York 1994) 3; cf. William
Hazlitt's essay of 1816 on Shakespeare's Coriolanus in
Complete Works of William Hazlitt, ed. P.P. Howe. Vol. 4 (London 1940)
216.
(29) Cf. R.J.B. Bosworth, Mussolini.s Italy (London 2005) 419-20.
(30) J.M. Cook, 'The rise of the Achaemenids', in The
Cambridge History of Iran, Vol. 2 (Cambridge 1985) 290-91.
(31) A. 3.18.12; D.S. 17.72.3; Strabo 15.3 6.730; Curtius 5.7.4;
Plut. Alex. 38.4.
(32) Bosworth (note 29), in his commentary on this speech, notes
that the orientalising is at least consistent with what Greeks were
writing in the 4th century, as seen for example in Isocrates, Paneg.
4.150-56.
(33) Cf. Shay (note 26).
(34) Cf. J.E. Atkinson, 'Troubled spirits in Persepolis',
in U. Vogel-Weidemann & J. Scholtemeijer (edd.), Charistion:
Festschrift C.P.T. Naude (Pretoria 1993) 5-15.
(35) Sp. Marinatos, 'Mycenaean elements within the royal
houses of Macedonia', in B. Laourdas & Ch. Makaronas (edd.),
Ancient Macedonia (Thessaloniki 1970) 48; F. Holt, Into the Land of
Bones: Alexander the Great in Afghanistan (Berkeley 2005 ) 77; Roisman
(note 3) 316-21.
(36) A. 4.8.8-9.6; Curtius 8.1.19-2.11; Plut. Alex. 50.1-52.2;
Justin 12.6.1-16; and i.a. Sen. Ep. 83.19; De Ira 3.17.1; Plut. Mor.
71c; cf. Sen. Nat. Quaest. 6.23.3 on the killing of Callisthenes.
(37) He may also, at least later, have claimed that he changed
plans because he had received more reliable intelligence on what lay
beyond the Hyphasis (cf. A. 6.1.4-5).
(38) A major disaster even if camp-followers constituted the
majority of the casualties (A. 6.25.5), and Alexander made
thank-offerings for the army's safe delivery from Gedrosia (A.
6.28.3). The episode is fully analysed by A.B. Bosworth, Alexander and
the East (Oxford 1996) 166-85. The effects were somewhat mitigated by
the fact that Craterus and a substantial section of the Macedonian
forces had been sent to Carmania by a less risky route via Arachosia and
Drangiana.
(39) The view that Alexander also mandated Nicanor to instruct the
Greeks to accord him divine honours was roundly discredited by G.L.
Cawkwell, 'The deification of Alexander the Great' (1994),
reprinted in I. Worthington, Alexander the Great: A Reader (London 2003)
263-72. But Badian, 'Alexander the Great between two thrones and
heaven', reprinted in the same Reader, 245-62 shows that he at
least actively promoted the idea in the winter of 324/3.
(40) Antipater, Olympias and Philoxenus sent messages demanding
Harpalus' extradition: D.S. 17.108.7; Hypereides, Demosthenes 8;
Plut. Mor. 531a; and Paus. 2.33.4. On the implications of the demands
made separately by the three see C.W. Blackwell, In the Absence of
Alexander: Harpalus and the Failure of Macedonian Authority (New York
1999), esp. chap. 2.
(41) A. 7.20.1; Strabo 16.1.11.741, giving Zeus rather than Uranus
as the first deity, and citing Aristobulus as his source. An article on
the Carmania march and Dionysus by Dawn Gilley is to appear in AHB.
(42) A. 7.19.9; Strabo 16.1.11.741, with Bosworth (note 38) 152-53.
(43) E. Badian, 'A king's notebooks', HSCP 72 (1968)
183-204.
(44) The idea is reflected in A. 4.7.5, 5.26.2 and 27.7.
(45) P. Hogemann, Alexander der Grosse und Arabien (Munich 1985)
120-35; Worthington (note 17) 181-82 and 205-06; Roisman (note 3) 293,
and more cautiously A.B. Bosworth, Conquest and Empire: The Reign of
Alexander the Great (Cambridge 1988) 169.
(46) Cartledge (note 1) 199; cf. p. 226, attributing the idea to
Schachermeyr.
(47) Cf. William Hazlitt (note 28).
(48) E. Carney, 'Macedonians and mutiny: discipline and
indiscipline in the army of Philip and Alexander', CP 91 (1996)
19-44, quotation from p. 27
(49) Cf. Worthington (note 17) 139-40.
(50) When Philip married a Macedonian girl, Cleopatra, her uncle
Attalus supposedly prayed to the gods that they would now give the royal
household a legitimate heir (Plut. Alex. 9).
(51) Holt (note 35) 86-91 makes a telling comparison with the case
of Sharbat Gula.
(52) Perhaps in 327, as suggested by Curtius 8.5.1.
(53) Cf. M.A. Dandamaev in M.A. Dandamaev & V.G. Lukonin, The
Culture and Social Institutions of Ancient Iran (Cambridge 1989) 172-73.