All Alexander's Women

by Robbert Bosschart

  Besides the personal considerations –Alexander certainly came to feel for Sisygambis a filial attachment similar to his love for his mother Olympias–, they also could be of use to each other. Professor Carney makes this comparison of both personal and political factors: “Alexander had, in his mother and full sister, representatives of his personal interests on the scene at home. In Asia he had Sisygambis, whose actions after his death tell us that she had reached the conclusion that the fate of her family was tied to Alexander’s survival.” (Carney 2000).

  Sisygambis could not avoid, although she tried4, that her firstborn and this adoptive son would again go to war. But above all, she was an Achaemenid princess, a daughter of Artaxerxes II, and a queen mother who saw it as her task to avoid needless sufferings for her country and her people. She reached the conclusion that Alexander sincerely aimed to integrate the conquered territories with the least possible damage into his dominions. (Also, for the practical reason that his small army would never suffice to occupy the vast Persian empire). Thus she must have accepted him first as the lesser evil; and in the end, as a man who could become a worthy successor to the venerated Cyrus the Great. Alexander shared this veneration: he took special pains to have Cyrus’ ransacked tomb restored to its former majesty.

  Alexander’s attitude in Egypt, where he demonstrates his profound regard for the local population and their traditions in becoming their new Pharaoh, is not only a message to the other peoples Persia has submitted. It also is a writing on the wall for Sisygambis. In Persia, too, Alexander wants to reach a status quo understanding with the local population and the ruling class, to continue their traditions under his kingship. The first practical proof of this comes at his triumphal entry in Babylon.

  It is October 22nd, 331 BC; only a short three weeks have passed since the decisive rout of Darius III at Gaugamela. Babylon is to be the new capital of Alexander’s world empire. But with the exception of a military control unit under Makedonian command, he hands the city and the region over to a Persian governor!

  And more, to a man who until now has fought against him with all the forces at his disposal: general Mazaios, one of the few Persians to earn well deserved praise for his actions on the battlefield of Gaugamela. Mazaios also is an experienced governor. He has administered the territories of Kilikia, Syria and Fenicia for the successive Persian kings from Artaxerxes II (the father of Sisygambis) to Darius.

  Someone near at hand –there was no time for wider consultation– must have given Alexander convincing information that precisely Mazaios will be the best man to rule Babylon for him. The facts prove that this appointment was based on first-rate intelligence: Mazaios continued in office as long as he lived, to the full satisfaction of both Alexander and the population.

  Someone evidently knew that the Babylonians would not resent this satrap as ‘a Persian in foreign service’. Someone who could reveal to Alexander such intimate details as the fact that Mazaios had a Babylonian wife, and that their son bore a typically Babylonian name.

  Also, someone with sufficient moral authority must have persuaded Mazaios to accept Alexander’s offer. An appointment which at that moment surely carried the taint of coat-turning; so it needed explaining how valuable this precedent would be for the political stability of Persia under Alexander.

  This someone, all logic shouts out, was Sisygambis. Being slightly older than Mazaios, she had seen his brilliant career from the start. First, as a young officer promoted on merit in the reign of her own father. Then, as a neighbor –Mazaios was the governor of Syria when Sisygambis accompanied her firstborn to the satrapy of Armenia– his abilities must have impressed her. Later, as a queen mother, Sisygambis consented to a nominal/political betrothal of her first granddaughter to this capable servant of the throne.

  Putting up Mazaios to govern Babylon for her new ‘son’ meant that Sisygambis had opted definitively for a continuation of the Achaemenid dynasty through Alexander.

  An option that also throws new light on a curious incident during the battle of Gaugamela. At a critical moment, Mazaios succeeds in sending a flying brigade around Alexander’s flank, and this Persian cavalry takes the Greek base camp in the rear. It contains not only the field hospital and the warehouses with provisions and booty, but also the tents of Sisygambis and her household including a son and two daughters of Darius. No doubt it is part of Darius’ plan to recover his family this way.

  The Persian troops begin a massacre in the field hospital, and loot the warehouses. Sisygambis’ servants go to see what is happening, and discover that their liberators have arrived. “Most of the female captives rushed off to welcome the Persians,” Diodoros writes (XVII, 59), “but the mother of Darius, Sisygambis, did not heed when the women called upon her, but remained placidly where she was.”

  Not because she fears she will be unable to return with this cavalry troop to the main force of Darius: elsewhere it has been related that Sisygambis and her retinue often ride on horses. Also, all sources confirm that at this moment the Persian brigade controls the grounds. And neither does the argument that the outcome of the battle might still turn against the Persians later, provide a convincing reason. If Sisygambis had really felt a long-cherished desire to be freed, it is unbelievable that she would not make use of this golden opportunity. No: the only explanation is that Sisygambis has already chosen a future with Alexander.

  This is also the meaning of an apocryphal quotation of Sisygambis (it probably has its roots in the Persian Alexander Romance) that tells the following story.

  In the summer of 330 BC, Darius has been murdered at Thara by the satrap of Baktria, Bessos – who, being a relative of the Achaemenids, immediately proclaims himself High King. The painful news reaches Susa, where Alexander has installed Sisygambis half a year ago: he is sending her Darius’ remains for a state burial. The courtiers tell the queen mother that, in accordance with custom, she should be seen publicly in deep mourning over the deceased High King Darius, her son. Sisygambis refuses indignantly: “My son the High King is in good health and his name is Alexander.”

  A noteworthy saying indeed, when we take into account that Alexander has never been formally proclaimed High King. But why not? This runs counter to his well known methods. In Greece he has painstakingly followed all the formal procedures to be proclaimed Hegemon. In Egypt he has faithfully executed all the prescribed ceremonies to be crowned Pharaoh. (And he continues to ensure he is seen to respect the traditions: nowadays we can still observe him depicted on an inner wall of the Luxor temple, as the Pharaoh performing his religious duties.)

  Persia has become his most important kingdom by far. Especially now that Darius has died and there is an active pretender in the field, a man of Bessos’ weight who is wearing the upright tiara of the sovereign, all logic would dictate that Alexander should have himself officially proclaimed High King. And yet he did not deem it necessary. Why?

  Because Sisygambis has already made him king of Persia by publicly calling him “my son the High King”. Sisygambis’ blessing is decisive for the Persians, because it re-enacts such sanctified historical precedents as the elevation of Cyrus the Great and Darius I to the throne.

  In this matter, professor Amélie Kuhrt cites both the Persica of Ktesias and the Cyropaedia of Xenofon. They relate how Astyages, king of the Medes, was displaced from the throne by his grandson and vassal Cyrus.

  Ktesias writes (FGrH 688 F9): “Having been seized and placed in heavy fetters, he was freed by Cyrus himself a little later and honoured as a father. At first, Cyrus also honoured the daughter, Amytis, as a mother, but later she became his wife.” [Initially, Cyrus was unable to conquer Baktria, but] “when the Baktrians learnt Astyages had become Cyrus’ father, and Amytis his mother and wife, they submitted to Amytis and Cyrus of their own accord.” Note that Amytis is named befóre Cyrus. Also, it is clear that the terms “as a father” and “as a mother” are employed here purely as titles of political meaning. Astyages already wás the gr
andfather of Cyrus, and it would have been considered a despicable incest if Cyrus had married his mother.

  Xenofon (Cyr. VIII. 5.18) says that the old king of the Medes presented Cyrus to his daughter Amytis “who brought with her a crown <…>; and as the young woman was placing the crown on Cyrus’ head, the king said: “I give you too, Cyrus, my daughter as wife <…> and with her, as a dowry, I give you all of Media.” This idyllic depiction of the (in reality, armed and violent) takeover by Cyrus the Great, stands out for one detail of the utmost importance to the Persians: it is Amytis who crowns Cyrus. And that explains why the Baktrians submit to “Amytis and Cyrus”.

  As for the mention that Cyrus honoured Amytis “as a mother”, professor Kuhrt emphasizes: “This must have been intended to be seen as part of the process of legitimization, i.e. making Cyrus heir to the Median throne; cf. the relationship between Alexander and Darius III’s mother Sisygambis, later; see Brosius 1996, 21-2: Sisygambis was acknowledged as Alexander’s mother, sic Diod. XVII 37.6”.

  In other words, the public proclamation of a close personal tie to the most prominent women of the previous king legitimizes the new occupant of the throne. That is why Alexander in the end marries Darius’ daughter Barsine, as Cyrus has taken the daughter of Astyages for wife; and why Darius I has married Atossa, daughter of Cyrus and former wife of Cambyses. But of even higher rank is the title of (queen-) mother; that is why Amytis and Sisygambis are honoured as “Mother” by Cyrus and Alexander.

  Moreover, we cannot forget the eye-catcher that Amytis is the one to crown Cyrus. This echoes a legitimization of still deeper roots – something of such great importance to the Persians, that they were still recounting it in their oral traditions of 1,500 years later.

  In the 12th century AD, a first written version was published in Persia of an old saga about the war between Darius and Alexander. Even more than the Sikandar-Nama, this Darab-Nama offers significant explanations for Alexander’s relationship with the royal women of Persia. For here we are told of how Alexander first fights against the father of a Persian princess and then against herself; but how he finally falls in love and marries her. Then she takes his hand, leads him to the throne of Persia, and crowns him.

  The story elements of the Darab-Nama represent a cultural fusion of Old-Persian and Hellenistic lore. The first Darab (=Darius) in this long saga occupies the throne with military might and then marries the daughter of the previous king. In other words, he is Darius the Great, and he legitimizes his takeover in the same way as Cyrus the Great before him (and Alexander later on). The last Darab in the story clearly represents Darius III, and his warlike daughter becomes the main character in the Darab-Nama.

  Initially, this princess is presented as a sort of Amazon queen like Hippolyta or Penthesileia, but as the story unfolds she is revealed as a stand-in for the Persian goddess Anahita. The role of Anahita as the patron goddess of the throne, who gives –or takes away– the ‘Monarchy by the Grace of God’, is rooted in the worship of pre-historic divinities like the Great Goddess and Innana. Her importance to the Persians is so well known that centuries later, in Roman times, the writer Strabo still underlines that “Anahita was the goddess of Cyrus and his ancestors”.

  The first High King who publicly appeals to Anahita in this capacity is Artaxerxes II, the father of Sisygambis. Among the many faithful in the empire who continue to worship Anahita, even far beyond the borders of Persia, Sisygambis must have carried extraordinary convincing power as the bearer of these traditional values. She was the last remaining symbol of the golden age of Artaxerxes II. This is what made her blessing for Alexander, suggesting the approval of Anahita, so decisive for the Persians.

  Sisygambis supports Alexander because they share a similar dream of a new glory period for the Achaemenid dynasty. Alexander not only has reconquered all the dominions of Cyrus the Great and reinstated his policy of religious tolerance; he will even widen the empire. That will demand the services of a numerous class of new rulers. Alexander and Sisygambis agree that Hellenes, Persians, Babylonians, Fenicians, Egyptians, Baktrians and all other inhabitants of the empire are entitled to contribute to the effort on equal terms. But they will be led by an integrated elite of mixed Greek-Persian descent: the offspring of the spectacular mass wedding in Susa.

  In Alexander’s own times, no one can have doubted this strategic aim of the Susa weddings. Contemporary writers must have made it so clear that Plutarch (in Moralia 338i) simply states it as a fact: “Alexander married Stateira, Darius’ daughter, because of the policy of the empire.” And, more in detail: “He himself set in the wedding song, as if he were elevating a hymn to the true friendship and union between the two greatest and mightiest peoples. For he, groom to one of the brides and at the same time godfather to all of them, united them all with the bonds of wedlock” (Moralia, 329e).

  As this is so notoriously an imperial ceremony, the logical question comes up why Alexander does not celebrate it in the capital of his new empire, Babylon. (The vast amount of coins that Alexander issues here to finance his imperial policies, all carry a special mark. With the monogram MTR, each of these tetradrachma coins proclaims that Babylon is the “MeTRopolis”: the mother-city of all Alexander’s dominions.) This enormous metropolis offers all the splendour an imperial wedding could ask for: no want of palaces or efficient providers of luxury goods here. And yet, in the spring of 324 BC Alexander and his dozens of prospective companion grooms travel not to Babylon, but to Susa in order to marry their new Persian wives. Why?

  Evidently, because that is where the brides are staying, having been carefully prepared for this historical event. It must have taken months to reunite all these girls and their families there, and to coach them for the ceremony.

  We know that some of the brides had been in Susa together for quite some time already, to be educated for this great moment. The historian Memnon of Herakleia tells us that Amastris, the other granddaughter of Sisygambis, has been educated together with her cousins the princesses Barsine/Stateira and Drypetis. In the household of their grandmother Sisygambis, of course, at the Old Palace of Susa. There, Alexander had already appointed Greek teachers for the princesses as early as 331 BC.

  I am convinced that the ‘young ladies’ finishing school’ at Sisygambis’ palace took on more blue-blooded pupils in the subsequent years. For example Apame, the bride for Seleukos and future queen of the Seleukid empire. She had become an orphan in 328 BC, the daughter of a proud warrior satrap who had caused the Makedonian army many a problem until his own family, to obtain Alexander’s favour, had murdered him. In who else but Sisygambis could Alexander trust to educate such an orphan to become a worthy wife for a Makedonian top general?

  And of course, who else but Sisygambis could keep Alexander abreast of the political status, or social value, of the dozens of candidate-brides (and their families) he needed for his grand scheme? There is no other possible conclusion but that, by 324 BC, the Old Palace of Susa had become the central stage where, under the supervision of Sisygambis, the future ruling class for a world empire was being prepared.

  The plan failed miserably when Alexander met his premature death in 323 BC. (Though it did not fail entirely: Amastris and Apame still were to play a very special role in history). But the queen-mother immediately understood that this was the real end of the Achaemenid dynasty. It is striking –and in a way, a belated acknowledgement of Sisygambis’ true role– that the last fact that Diodoros mentions in his Alexander biography, reads as follows:

  “After the king’s death, Sisygambis, Darius’ mother, mourned his passing and her own bereavement; and coming to the limit of her life, she refrained from food and died on the fifth day, abandoning life painfully, but not without glory.”

  Right he was. She had given her son the loyalty of Persia that made his glory possible. With Alexander, Sisygambis aimed for a new golden age of the Achaemenid Empire. Without Alexander, the future was dead.

  Silver coin issued c. 30
0 BC by queen Amastris, as its inscription shows. At the time, she ruled the kingdom of Herakleia Pontos on the Black Sea coast of Asia Minor. Over the years, this coin was struck in versions that varied in small details, allowing the woman figure to be identified either as the queen or as her protecting deity, the Persian goddess Anahita.

  This is the nearest thing to a portrait of Sisygambis’ granddaughter we have. And it probably also gives us a quite approximate idea of what the Persian queen-mother herself must have looked like to her contemporaries.

  • 2 •

  THE GREAT GODDESS,

  INANNA, ANAHITA AND ISIS

  The first author in world literature we know by name, the priestess Enheduanna, wrote hymns to the goddess Inanna. Active around 2300 BC, Enheduanna was a daughter of Sargon, king of Sumer and Akkad. He sent her as high priestess to the conquered Sumerian capital Ur. In that city, writing had been invented; at first, c. 3200 BC, for administrative purposes only, but soon put to literary use.

  The opening words (and therefore, title) of her best known hymn, are Nin-me-shar-ra: “Lady of all the Divine Powers.” Enheduanna describes her worship for the goddess in a very personal, intimate way. She also tells about the troubles of her times, including her expulsion from (and later return to) her temple in Ur. As a literary text, it is the earliest report of an individual’s consciousness of her inner life.