10
The Death of Darius II and the Accession of Artaxerxes II
From the historian’s perspective, the last years of Darius II are notable mainly for the events that led to the civil war between Darius II’s successor, Artaxerxes II (Arses), and his younger brother Cyrus. It soon became clear that Cyrus’ aim in trying to hasten the end of the Peloponnesian War was to prepare a Greek mercenary army to help him overthrow his brother. Cyrus’ expedition and the defeated Greek mercenary army’s return westward were immortalized by the Greek writers Ctesias and Xenophon as well as by Plutarch in his Life of Artaxerxes, which relied heavily on Ctesias’ and Xenophon’s accounts. Xenophon was a participant in Cyrus’ expedition and thus well-placed to offer a Greek insider’s perspective. While we have a rich trove of Greek sources to tap, we have relatively little Near Eastern material to supplement or correct them.
The final years of Darius II are mostly opaque. Trouble in Egypt around 410 BCE may presage its full secession between 401 and 399. A terse reference in Xenophon’s Hellenica (1.2.19) implies a rebellion in Media in 408, but no details as to its seriousness or extent are given. Xenophon also alludes to Darius on campaign against rebellious Cadusians (somewhere south of the Caspian Sea, Hellenica 2.1.13) in 405, but no context is provided. An oblique reference in a Babylonian economic tablet dated to 407 appears to imply, based on similar occurrences of the rare phraseology used in the text, that a state of siege existed in the city of Uruk in southern Babylonia, but one hesitates to read too much into an isolated reference. It is impossible to discern if these episodes were significant problems beyond the routine troubles any imperial power would face.
Darius II with his wife Parysatis had two sons, Arses and Cyrus, with Arses as the designated successor. Arses, sometimes spelled Arsaces, took the throne name Artaxerxes II. Plutarch (Artaxerxes 2.3) suggests that the succession was up for grabs until the end of Darius’ life. Parysatis purportedly preferred Cyrus and wished for him to become king, so she summoned him from his command in Asia Minor in hopes of arranging the succession for him. That Darius II would have waited until his deathbed to proclaim a successor stretches credibility, however. The careful and ritualized preparations of the designated crown prince were not a last minute phenomenon. That Cyrus may have returned when his father’s death was imminent is believable enough, but he would not have done so with hopes that he would be named successor.
Xenophon (Anabasis 1.3) and Plutarch (Artaxerxes 3.3–5) both report that Cyrus planned an attempt on Arses’ life during the coronation ceremony at Pasargadae. This was not the work of paid assassins but rather planned as an ambush by Cyrus himself. Tissaphernes revealed the plot, and only Parysatis’ intervention saved Cyrus’ life. He was sent back to his post in Asia Minor. That is a surprise, and one is right to be skeptical, but the incongruity may stem from the sources: details may have been conflated or exaggerated in light of Cyrus’ open rebellion later.
The War between the Brothers
Cyrus’ support of the Spartans in their war against the Athenians thus came to be viewed as motivated by his own agenda. Cyrus mustered his Greek mercenary forces in Thrace and the Hellespont, areas presumably less likely to attract imperial attention. But the ostensible reasons for his campaign would be more important than any attempt to keep the mustering itself a secret. Garrison commanders were initially told that preparations were being made against Tissaphernes, thus cast as an episode in a rivalry. This is told from a Greek perspective. Any such conflict would have been construed by the King as an act of insubordination, if not rebellion. As the muster continued, Cyrus then claimed that he was preparing a campaign against the Pisidians in central Anatolia. NeitherTissaphernes nor Pharnabazus was deceived. Tissaphernes doubted that such a large force was aimed at nettlesome tribesmen (Xen. Anab. 1.2.1–4). Pharnabazus learned the truth of the matter from an Athenian exile and sent a special dispatch, as early as 404, straight to the King (Diodorus 14.11.2–3). These reports suggest that, whatever Cyrus told his followers and however carefully he disguised his intentions, the coming rebellion could not have taken Artaxerxes by surprise.
Xenophon’s Anabasis contains a consistent theme that highlights the precariousness of Cyrus’ army: Cyrus’ Greek followers were not informed of the true goal of the expedition. Time and again their suspicions were raised, until either further deception or an increase in pay was applied to keep the men on the march. The truth was revealed – along with a promise of a huge bonus – only when they were in northern Syria. Despite Xenophon’s clear admiration for Cyrus, it is notable that relatively few high-ranking Persians were to be found in Cyrus’ camp. Stripped of its Greek veneer and considering Xenophon’s perspective as a participant, what we have in the Anabasis is an adventure story: a rogue royal whose charisma and deep pockets presented a clear danger to the King. It is an open question what level of support Cyrus might have generated had he successfully killed his brother. Xenophon does provide the names of some Persian supporters, but both his and Ctesias’ vague references to large numbers defecting to Cyrus are unsubstantiated. One example of resistance occurred while Cyrus was still in central Anatolia. He there plundered the territory of Lycaonia because it was hostile (Anab. 1.2.19), by implication, because the inhabitants refused to support Cyrus with provisions.
Of particular note are those who worked against Cyrus. The Achaemenid system – focused on loyalty to the King – proved effective. As noted above, both satraps in western Asia Minor, Tissaphernes and Pharnabazus, warned the King about Cyrus’ preparations. Another high-ranking Persian, Orontas, described by Xenophon as a member of the Achaemenid extended royal family, acted as a double agent (Anab. 1.6.1). A subordinate of Tisasaphernes, Orontas initially acted against Cyrus from Sardis, but subsequently went over to Cyrus and offered his services. Gathering some of Cyrus’ cavalry, Orontas then sent to Artaxerxes a message that professed his loyalty and promised to come to the King with cavalry. But Orontas was in turn betrayed, and the message delivered to Cyrus instead, who then executed him after a secret trial. While Cyrus’ forces were marching through Cappadocia in central Anatolia, Cyrus executed a certain Megaphernes – whom Xenophon calls a royal scribe – and another important man among Megaphernes’ lieutenants (Anab. 1.2.20) on the charge of plotting against him. Xenophon provides no other details, but apparently Megaphernes also remained loyal to the King. The local ruler of Cilicia, whom Xenophon calls Syennesis (the name is actually a title), was compelled by the threat of Cyrus’ army to offer aid, but he simultaneously sent messages to the King assuring his loyalty.
The confrontation occurred at Cunaxa, northwest of Babylon along the Euphrates River. Xenophon (Anab. 1.7.10–13) states that Cyrus’ army consisted of 10,400 hoplites and 3,500 peltasts (light-armed infantry), along with 100,000 barbarians (non-Greeks). Of the King’s army of 1,200,000 infantry, 200 scythe-bearing chariots, and 6,000 cavalry, only(!) 900,000 infantry and 150 chariots took part in the battle. This was because one of Artaxerxes’ commanders, Abrocomas, arrived from Phoenicia too late for the action. Plutarch’s account (Life of Artaxerxes 7.4–6) echoes Xenophon’s, no accident because Plutarch mentions Xenophon explicitly. Both speak of 900,000 men, a typical exaggeration in Greek sources that – as a very approximate rule of thumb – may be assumed to be exaggerated at least tenfold. For the drama of the battle, and the unsurprisingly valiant and effective efforts of Cyrus’ Greek contingents, one may turn to the pages of Xenophon or Plutarch. And, of course, Cyrus’ own bravery is lionized, even while fighting at 10 to 1 odds, as he sought out and engaged his royal brother. Cyrus in fact wounded the King but was then struck by a javelin and died shortly thereafter.
But the battle was not done. Various Persian contingents regrouped but were still unsuccessful attacking Cyrus’ Greek troops, even though the Greek mercenaries now had no point in being there. Their purpose – Cyrus – was dead on the field. Persian forces had meanwhile plundered the Greek camp and taken many of their provisions. Cyrus’ deputy, the Persian Ariaeus, was induced to leave the Greek forces to their fate and return to the King. The Greek mercenaries then offered to enlist with the King for a campaign against rebellious Egypt but were summarily rebuffed. At a parley after the battle, Tissaphernes arranged the capture of almost all the Greek generals, an act of supreme cleverness or abject treachery that depends on one’s perspective. The remaining Greek forces were left unmolested, though shadowed by Persian forces, to make their arduous journey homeward.
Aftermath of the Rebellion
Because Plutarch chose to dedicate one of his Lives to Artaxerxes II, we have many insights into the aftermath of Cyrus’ rebellion and into court intrigues. Parysatis’ grief and wrath at Cyrus’ death exacted a heavy toll on the wider royal family. In the Classical literary tradition, she thus became a paradigm of the caprice and licentiousness of the Persian court, which – in the stereotype reliant Greek view – revolved around the machinations of powerful royal women and eunuchs (see pp. 94–96). According to both Ctesias and Plutarch, there was also great tension between the queen mother Parysatis and her daughter-in-law, the queen herself, Stateira. Stateira was the daughter of a high-ranking Persian noble, Hydarnes, whose support had been essential in Darius II’s seizure of the throne.1 The rivalry culminated in Parystis’ clever poisoning of Stateira. As Plutarch relays it (Life of Artaxerxes 19) the two women distrusted each other so much that when they dined they ate the same portions from the same plate. Parysatis arranged a meal of a tiny bird, a delicacy so light that the Persians believed it lived on air and dew. The knife used to slice it was coated with a deadly poison, only on one side. The poisoned portion was given to Stateira, who died horribly a few days later. Artaxerxes in his rage and grief executed the table servants and banished his mother to Babylon. Greek sources reveal Parysatis’ mother’s Babylonian origin, and documents from the Murashu archive show that Parysatis held vast estates in Babylonia – her sojourn there was certainly not in a foreign land. She and Artaxerxes were later reconciled.
When considering these tales of vindictive vengeance and cruel torture, the caprice of tyrants may offer sufficient, if clichéd, explanation. But these stories are also about the integrity and survival of the Achaemenid dynastic principle. The Achaemenids’ emphasis on endogamous marriage was not simply a monstrous perversion of the natural order, as some Greeks believed, but rather a dynastic safeguard. While Ochus (Darius II) was struggling for the throne, intermarriage with another prominent, Persian family – in this instance the family of Hydarnes – was not only acceptable but desirous. But a prestigious family was as much potential rival as ally. In consideration of Darius II’s own less than straightforward path to the throne, the link with Hydarnes’ family may have expanded the potential pool of successors too much.
Darius and Parysatis, as children of secondary wives or concubines of Artaxerxes I, could both claim Achaemenid descent. So could others, such as Arsites and Pissouthnes (see p. 172). Once Darius II was secure on the throne, there was less hesitation – and perhaps more incentive – to reinforce the dynastic principle. The poisoning of Stateira represented also the complete annihilation of that rival branch to the royal line. Regardless of circumstances or pretext, that reinforced Achaemenid primacy. It is possible in such a context to view Parysatis’ fierce actions, mainly on behalf of her husband or children, as a dynastic virtue motivated by her desire to preserve her own line, the Achaemenid line, unchallenged. It is easy to apply a moralizing perspective to horrific acts, but a superficial reading of these accounts misses many key matters of power – the accumulation or maintenance thereof – and prestige. The stakes were high: the control of a world empire.
Royal Inscriptions of Artaxerxes II
The extant royal inscriptions from Artaxerxes II’s reign are associated mainly with finds from Ecbatana and from his construction works at Susa. One inscription was found in four copies on the bases of columns (A2Sa), in which Artaxerxes provided the standard titles and lineage traced, father to son, back to Darius I and, interestingly, one more generation to Darius I’s father Hystaspes. Hystaspes’ inclusion is a curiosity, over a century after his death, because he did not rule as king – at least, not as the Achaemenid king of kings.
In light of Cyrus’ rebellion the chance for Artaxerxes II to broadcast his lineage, and thus his legitimacy, was no doubt a welcome one. He further reinforced the link by direct reference to his restoration of an apadana built by Darius I, one that had been destroyed by a fire during Artaxerxes I’s reign. Persian kings were expected to undertake such restoration work, just as their Assyrian, Babylonian, and Elamite predecessors emphasized similar projects in their royal inscriptions. That this work involved building on, literally and figuratively, one of Artaxerxes II’s most illustrious predecessors’ works was no doubt also intentional. Another trilingual building inscription records a similar restoration project at Ecbatana, modern Hamadan (A2Ha). In addition, Artaxerxes built at Susa a large, new palace (roughly 10 acres, A2Sd) set among lavish gardens, a paradigmatic example of an Old Persian paradayadam. That Old Persian word is understood as the origin of Greek paradeisos, thus “paradise,” but that translation and meaning are disputed. Beyond philological arguments, the garden setting makes one confident that the beauty and tranquility of the place, a “pleasant retreat” as some modern scholars translate paradayadam, was meant to be emphasized.
What is most striking in Artaxerxes II’s building inscriptions is the mention of the gods Anahita and Mithra alongside Ahuramazda in the invocation formula, for example in A2Sd §2: “May Ahuramazda, Anahita, and Mithra protect me and what I have built from all evil.” The inclusion of Anahita and Mithra is new, but the reasons for their inclusion are unclear. Explanations abound in modern scholarship, and there is little agreement. Both Mithra and Anahita are Iranian deities, and Mithra is prominent in the Vedic tradition as well: a warrior god and associated with the sun. Specific mentions of sacrificing to Mithra in an Achaemenid context occur in a much later source, Athenaeus (10.434e), in which Mithra’s worship is associated with drinking and dancing. According to this later tradition, the festival of Mithra was the only time that the King got drunk.2 He also performed a specific dance, unhelpfully labeled the persica (“Persian things”), though what sort of dance that was is unexplained.
Anahita was a fertility goddess, associated with water and the heavens. She was identified with a number of other deities: Greek Athena, Artemis, Aphrodite, and Babylonian Ishtar, a goddess of sexual love (fertility) and war. Syncretism between various traditions was commonplace in antiquity. In the Persepolis Fortification Tablets, numerous gods received sacrifice in the wider area of Persepolis itself, a phenomenon that may be assumed to apply throughout the Empire. Plutarch (Art.27.3) implies that there was a shrine to Anahita in Ecbatana. One of the most famous representations of Anahita appears on a cylinder seal scene dated to the fourth century. The goddess is standing on a lion, symbolism closely related to that of Ishtar, and the king (wearing a distinctive crown) approaches her with hands outstretched in worship. Aelian (On the Nature of Animals 12.23, perhaps taken from Ctesias) describes a shrine of Anahita, whom he calls Anaitis, in Elam that housed tame lions, animals that again emphasize the Ishtar connection.
The king in Figure 10.1 is not labeled, but most scholars assume it is Artaxerxes II. Mithra and Anahita are listed, after Ahuramazda, consistently in Artaxerxes II’s extant inscriptions. In other words, they are not anomalous to one inscription, so his devotion to them is clear. The Babylonian Berossus credited Artaxerxes with the introduction of Anahita's cult and the stipulation that she be worshipped by his subjects (Fragments 11–12). If accurate, it is safe to say that such a proclamation did not exclude worship of other deities. For whom was the proclamation meant? Berossus’ listing of specific places matches the main administrative centers of the Empire: Persepolis and Pasargadae, Babylon, Susa, Ecbatana, Bactria, Damascus, and Sardis. (Notably, Memphis in Egypt is not mentioned, a tacit acknowledgement that it was beyond Persian control at the time of this edict.) Based on this, it has been assumed that the Persians in the provinces were the target of this stipulated devotion to Anahita, especially the Persian satraps and their staffs. Why Artaxerxes chose to promulgate worship of Anahita among the Persians abroad is another matter, but one presumes he meant to use it as a binding mechanism, a reminder of royal power under the aegis of the gods. Because Anahita effectively disappears from Artaxerxes III’s inscriptions – meaning that she is not mentioned in them – many questions linger.
Figure 10.1 King Approaching Anahita on a Lion, from a Fourth Century Cylinder Seal. Courtesy of The State Hermitage Museum, St. Petersburg.
Persia Triumphant: The Northwestern Front
During the 390s BCE, continued squabbling among the Greek cities of the mainland allowed Persia to reassert its territorial claims in Ionia and the Hellespont, and even to influence affairs among the city-states of Greece proper. At least from the diplomatic perspective, Artaxerxes II was able to achieve in Greece what Xerxes had not – Persian domination. Because of the help that the Spartans gave to Cyrus in his revolt in 401, they were considered enemies of the King. The situation that prevailed in Greece for most of the last decade of the fifth century – Persian support of Sparta that enabled the defeat of Athens – was effectively reversed within a decade.
Artaxerxes awarded to Tissaphernes Cyrus the Younger’s old command in western Anatolia (Diodorus 14.26.4 and Xen., Hell. 3.1.3). Tissaphernes’ job was to reconsolidate Achaemenid holdings in Ionia, not an easy task. Not only did many Ionian cities resist, Greek sources indicate ongoing rivalry between Tissaphernes and his counterpart, Pharnabazus, the satrap of Hellespontine Phrygia. In 396, the Spartan king Agesilaus raided Pharnabazus’ territories in the Hellespont. The following year he advanced as far as Sardis and destroyed Tissaphernes’ paradeisos in the countryside, along with a Persian force contesting him. (Diodorus 14.80.1–5).3 This defeat may have been a significant one, or at least tried Artaxerxes’ patience, because it resulted in Tissaphernes’ removal from command. Artaxerxes dispatched a Persian replacement named Tithraustes, about whom we know little, neither exact title nor family connection. With the aid of the same Ariaeus who had defected from Cyrus (and had obviously returned to Artaxerxes’ good graces), Tithraustes took Tissaphernes prisoner and sent him to Susa. Several sources implicate Parysatis’ implacable anger against Tissaphernes – for his part in Cyrus the Younger’s eventual defeat and death – for the turn in Tissaphernes’ fortunes.
In the interval, and with the King’s imprimatur, Pharnabazus outfitted a new navy and appointed an Athenian admiral named Conon as the commander. This Persian fleet decisively defeated the Spartan fleet at Cnidus in southwestern Anatolia in 394. The situation in Greece itself in the mid-390s had deteriorated, with Sparta’s hegemony there threatened by an alliance of its erstwhile allies and enemies: Athens, Argos, Corinth, and Thebes. Persian money supported this alliance, another instance of a successful policy to keep the Greek city-states unbalanced and diminish their threats to Persian interests. This situation impelled the authorities in Sparta to recall Agesilaus (Xen. Hell. 4.2), so the Spartan king’s grand plans for an “anabasis” against the King were untenable – and probably not very realistic from the start. Artaxerxes and his satraps had the stronger hand.
Pharnabazus then took the offensive and removed Spartan governors throughout western Asia Minor. Pharnabazus apparently used a lighter touch this time, freeing Ionia with Conon, a Greek face, at the head of his navy and trumpeting the Ionians’ own (internal) autonomy. In 393 Pharnabazus then carried the war much closer to Sparta itself. He reasserted Persian command of the sea in the Aegean, even up to the islands off the southern coast of the Peloponnesus itself. A garrison was left in Cythera, an island just off the coast. These were major Persian accomplishments: a reversal of Spartan hegemony in the Aegean.
A flurry of diplomatic activity followed. Spartan representatives led by Antalcidas – who became Sparta’s main ambassador to Persia – negotiated with a certain Tiribazus (Xen. Hell. 4.8.12–17), who is described as the King’s general in Anatolia. Antalcidas expressed willingness to cede formally all of Asia Minor to the King, with the Aegean Islands left autonomous. Other Greek city-states objected, as they had territories and interests in these regions. Tiribazus, for reasons not revealed, decided to support the Spartans secretly: he gave money to Antalcidas to support a fleet against the resurgent Athenians, who were still acting as Pharnabazus’ agents. The situation – as Xenophon depicts it, at least – became suddenly complex. Despite Tiribazus’ authority in Asia Minor, he could not make a peace treaty on his own, so he himself traveled (or was summoned) to the King. The King’s response was telling.
Artaxerxes replaced Tiribazus with a certain Struthas who was “to manage affairs on the coast” (Xen. Hell. 4.8.17). What does this mean? As many interpret it, the imprecise phrasing indicates only that Struthas replaced Tiribazus as satrap of Lydia. Alternatively, this wording implies that Struthas was given a special appointment, one whose command approximated that of Cyrus the Younger’s. The imprecise phrasing may imply authority on par with, if not greater than, that of the regional satraps, but it remains an open question. A Greek inscription usually dated 392/391 BCE records a certain Strouses’ arbitration, on the King’s authority, of a border dispute between Miletus and Myous, cities in southwestern Anatolia.4 This Strouses is understood to be the Struthas of Xenophon’s account. Here is as good example as any of the actual application of Persian authority in this region of the Empire. Notably, the quarreling parties did not seek Athenian or Spartan adjudication of the matter.
Struthas was not dispatched to continue Tiribazus’ policy. On the contrary, he pursued a strongly pro-Athenian policy, on par with what Pharnabazus had been advocating (and applying) for most of the previous decade. This impelled the Spartans to dispatch forces into Asia Minor, and the fighting – mostly skirmishing at this stage – was renewed. An anecdote related by Xenophon (Hell. 4.8.24) reveals the chaos in Ionia. The Athenians, just then supported by the King, had sent a flotilla of aid to the rebellious king of Cyprus, Evagoras; the Spartans, who were at odds with the King, captured and destroyed that Athenian fleet.
Diplomacy continued, and the Spartan ambassador Antalcidas carried the day with the King. By 387/386, the year of the so-called King’s Peace – also sometimes called the Peace of Antalcidas – the situation had come to a head. Antalcidas was accompanied homeward by Tiribazus, who resumed his position in Lydia and whose return marked another change in policy: a return to the pro-Spartan stance the Persians had championed at the end of the fifth century. The King was prepared to ally himself with Sparta and go to war if his peace terms were rejected. And there was additional incentive: Antalcidas commanded an overwhelming naval force, supplemented by Persian support, with which he was able to seize control of the shipping routes through the Hellespont. Control of that sea lane threatened Athens’ grain supply; it was the same tactic that helped Sparta emerge victorious during the Peloponnesian War. Ships and funding from the satraps of Lydia, Tiribazus, and of Hellespontine Phrygia, Ariobarzanes, augmented Antalcidas’ force. The previous satrap of Hellespontine Phrygia, Pharnabazus, had been called to the interior so as to marry the King’s daughter Apame (Plut. Art. 27.4). Some scholars identify Ariobarzanes as Pharnabazus’ son, but his filiation is not given in Xenophon.
Athens was cowed, wary of the sudden change in Persian support that swung naval dominance to Sparta. All the Greek cities, Sparta included, were weary of the back-and-forth that characterized the so-called Corinthian War of the 390s in Greece. Persia’s direct involvement on Sparta’s behalf, even the threat thereof, once again changed the calculus. Memories of the last decade of the Peloponnesian War would still have been fresh in the minds of many. The change in Persian policy was a major boon, if not outright coup, for the Spartans. Spartan willingness to abandon claims to the King’s Ionian territories was a compelling point in their favor.
The terms of the King’s Peace of 387/386 read more like an edict than a treaty. Representatives of the Greek cities were summoned before Tiribazus, presumably in Sardis, where he showed them the letter with the King’s seal and read out the terms:
King Artaxerxes holds it just that the cities in Asia be his along with Clazomenae and Cyprus of the islands. And the other Greek cities, both large and small, should be left autonomous, except for Lemnos, Imbros, and Skyros. These, just as in the past, should belong to Athens. And if either of the two parties does not accept this peace, I will make war upon them, along with those willing to abide by these terms, both by land and by sea, both with ships and with money.
(Xen. Hell. 5.1.31)
The few specific places named reflect some of the underlying negotiations. Clazomenae in western Anatolia had previously been controlled by Athens, but Artaxerxes specifically included it in his domain. The Aegean Islands left to Athens were closer to the Greek mainland than to Ionia and were thus, apparently, not of sufficient concern to the King. Cyprus was probably only mentioned to encourage the Greeks to cease their meddling there while the Persians brought the Cypriot rebels to heel.
The application of the King’s Peace, especially the King’s explicit threat to wage war against those who refused to accept it, has been debated ever since. Many scholars reject as unrealistic the likelihood of Persian military action on the Greek mainland. But in 393 Pharnabazus, one of the highest ranking Persians in the west, had recently arrived with his fleet at the Isthmus of Corinth; perhaps the thought of another Persian campaign in Greece was not so far-fetched after all. Despite the Peace, the bitter infighting and squabbling among Greek city-states continued unabated. Later sources indicate that Artaxerxes insisted on reaffirmation of the terms of the Peace in 375 and 371 BCE.
Cyprus and the Egyptian Problem
Because of its strategic location off the Phoenician coast, control of Cyprus was the prerequisite for control of the eastern Mediterranean seaboard. This in turn was necessary to any successful Persian reconquest of Egypt, especially because the Egyptian rebels were primarily based in the Nile delta region. Like Greece, Cyprus consisted of several independent city-states, the rulers of which were in constant competition. One of these rulers, Evagoras of Salamis, had wider ambitions to control the entire island. His career is mixed and often difficult to track. Some scholars postulate that he aided Cyrus the Younger in his revolt, but there is no evidence to confirm that. In 398, Evagoras did support the Persians’ efforts against the Spartans in Asia Minor. Ctesias’ Persicaalludes to friction between Evagoras and Artaxerxes (Fragment 30 §72), but the context is lost. Diodorus relates Evagoras’ defeat at sea in 386 and a Persian siege of Salamis (15.3–4 and 15.8–9). Persian authority was restored within a few years. A broken reference in a Babylonian astronomical text dating from 382/381 implies a reconquered Salamis.5 Interestingly, Evagoras was allowed to continue as king in Salamis but was to pay the expected tribute and obey Artaxerxes, the King of kings.
Egypt in Revolt and the Arshama Archive
The most significant foreign crisis that we can track during Artaxerxes II’s reign is the revolt of Egypt, a sporadic affair that involved several Egyptian rulers (mostly from the Delta in the north) and that effectively removed Egypt from Persian control for the first half of the fourth century. Egypt was able to resist full reincorporation into the Empire until Artaxerxes III’s reconquest in the late 340s BCE. Many of Egypt’s kings’ reigns in the fourth century were of short duration, a reflection of Egypt’s own internal struggles. The initial stages of this rebellion may be tracked during the transitional period from the reigns of Darius II to Artaxerxes II.
An important corpus of sources from Egypt partially overlaps this period of unrest: the so-called Arshama archive, named after the Persian satrap of Egypt in the late fifth century. Arshama is Greek Arsames, the name of several prominent Achaemenids, among them Darius I’s grandfather and one of Darius I’s sons by Artystone (daughter of Cyrus), a half brother of Xerxes and the commander of the Arabian and Ethiopian forces during the invasion of Greece (Hdt. 7.69). Any connection to the Persian satrap Arshama is unclear – perhaps he was a grandson of Darius’ son Arsames? This is often assumed, but unproven.
In this archive’s varied documentation we find reference to Arshama’s satrapal responsibilities juxtaposed with great concern for his personal holdings. Topics range from the distribution of rations to slaves to transfer and maintenance of property. One of the more striking letters contains the satrap’s admonishment to his subordinate Nakhtor to take advantage of unrest in Egypt itself to bolster Arshama’s own holdings (A6.10).6 That Arshama and other satraps were concerned to maintain their own positions and economic security is hardly surprising, but it is not often that we are able to track it directly. From Babylonian documentation we learn that Arshama also held estates in Babylonia, like many other notables of the time. The Arxanes whom Ctesias identifies as the satrap of Egypt, who aided Ochus (Darius II) in his bid for the throne, has been identified with this Arshama. If that is correct, Arshama was satrap in Egypt by or before 425. Extant documentation indicates that he served as satrap until at least 407.
Amyrtaeus of Sais, in the Delta, rebelled against the Persians and was recognized as king sometime in 404/403, according to the Egyptian writer Manetho. Amyrtaeus’ rebellion seems to have been confined to the Delta region. His name suggests a dynastic link, whether real or fabricated, with the Delta kings who had rebelled during Artaxerxes I’s reign in the 460s. The progression of the revolt through southern Egypt is not entirely clear. Some of the Aramaic documents from Elephantine continued to be dated to Artaxerxes II reign until 402 or 401, but the significance of that is debatable. By 399 at the latest Egypt must be considered outside Persian control, but warring factions within Egypt itself led to instability. Amyrtaeus was deposed in 398/397 by Nepherites I, whose own reign (c. 398–391 BCE) ended in an Egyptian succession crisis – one of several in this turbulent period – that produced one of the longest ruling of the rebel kings, Akoris (391–378 BCE).
After the Aegean front was stabilized in the early 380s (see discussion earlier in this chapter), Artaxerxes apparently applied a more sustained focus on Egypt but one that was in the short-term unsuccessful. The Athenian orator Isocrates alludes to a massive Persian campaign against Egypt in the late 380s, but there is no reference to such a campaign in other sources. Isocrates portrays Persia’s inability to reconquer Egypt as a sign of weakness (Panegyricus 140). Isocrates made a career of agitating for a pan-Hellenic campaign against, as he describes it, a weak and doddering Persian Empire – his characterization is exaggerated.
In the 370s, Pharnabzus, previously the satrap of Hellespontine Phrygia, was charged with retaking Egypt, now ruled by Nectanebo I. Diodorus relates Pharnabazus’ need to resort to ship transport to circumvent elaborate defensive fortifications (15.41–43.4). Pharnabazus’ failure to follow his Greek mercenary commander Iphicrates’ advice to take the undefended capital Memphis in a quick strike, while the Egyptian rebels were still stationed in the Delta, doomed the campaign to failure. That miscalculation and subsequent Egyptian successes ultimately forced a Persian withdrawal. Diodorus’ stylized Hellenocentric approach – which generally elevates the Greeks and denigrates the Persians, as in the case of Iphicrates and Pharnabazus’ differences – makes the particulars of this account difficult to gauge. The true course and strategy remain uncertain, but scholars tend to accept the general outline of a significant but failed attempt to recapture Egypt by force in the mid-to-late 370s.
In the late 360s, Tachos (coruler and then successor of Nectanebo I) launched a major campaign into Phoenicia, an area in which Egypt had long had an interest. During the campaign, Tachos’ nephew rebelled against him and seized the throne under the name of Nectanebo II. Various late sources suggest that Tachos’ nephew’s rebellion was a consequence of Tachos’ defeat by a Persian army in Phoenicia. Whatever the truth of the matter, Tachos fled, of all places, to Persia. There he was welcomed by Artaxerxes, who planned another attempt at the reconquest of Egpyt. But that campaign was ultimately left to Artaxerxes III.
Scattered references dating to the last decade of Artaxerxes II’s rule remind us that the Aegean and Egyptian fronts were not the only concerns of the King. An entry in one of the Babylonian astronomical diaries refers to a campaign in 369 against a place called “Razaundu,” the location of which is uncertain. Opinions vary but a location somewhere in northwestern or north central Iran seems most likely; the fragmentary entry does not preserve details of the campaign. It has been linked to a reference in Plutarch (Art.24.1) to Artaxerxes’ campaign against Cadusians in the north. Another Babylonian astronomical diary entry indicates that in 367 the King met an unspecified threat somewhere in (northern?) Mesopotamia.
Revolts in Anatolia
Other threats to Persian stability developed in Anatolia in the late 360s BCE. In modern treatments, the so-called Great Satraps’ Revolt has often been put forward as a harbinger of the end of the Empire. That somewhat melodramatic assessment has been called into question, and what has resulted is a classic historiographic case study on the nature and interpretation of our evidence for the Achaemenid Persian Empire in the fourth century. There are fundamental problems in the chronology and reliability of the ancient accounts that allude to this revolt – or, better put, revolts – and many scholars are unprepared to accept a unified effort by several satraps that was carefully orchestrated against the King. Diodorus is the main source for the portrayal of an empire on the brink (15.90), at least in its western holdings. A number of satraps in Anatolia, aided by the Spartans and in conjunction with a major offensive by Tachos of Egypt, threatened Artaxerxes. The satraps included Ariobarzanes of Hellespontine Phyrgia, Mausolus of Caria (he of the famous Mausoleum of Halicarnassus), Orontes of Mysia, and Autophradates of Lydia.
To contextualize the revolts as a whole, Classical sources contemporary to the events are, unfortunately, of little additional help. Athenian orators such as Isocrates and Demosthenes include or omit, embellish or gloss, details about the King’s troubles for their rhetorical purposes. Their job was to persuade an Athenian audience. On matters Persian, their speeches read like selections from a political campaign. This is not to imply that the references to revolts against the King are fabricated, but the details are on the whole unreliable. Some sources contradict Diodorus’ much later account.7 For example, Xenophon (in one of his minor works entitled Agesilaus 2.26) indicates that the rebel Ariobarzanes of Hellespontine Phrygia was defeated by royal forces commanded by none other than Autophradates, satrap of Lydia – Diodorus lists both as involved in the same revolt. That the King faced challenges in his territories is nothing new. That these challenges may occasionally have come from satraps’ rebellions is also not new. But a revolt coordinated by many satraps simultaneously would definitely be new, at least with our extant documentation. The varying traditions in the Athenian orators’ speeches, in Diodorus, and in other sources likely reflect real problems in Anatolia, but the particulars are in doubt.
From Artaxerxes II to Artaxerxes III: Another Succession Crisis
Our most detailed source for the history of this period, Diodorus, mentions the transition from Artaxerxes II to Artaxerxes III only briefly (15.93.1), and he got the chronology wrong. Babylonian texts indicate that Artaxerxes II ruled forty-six years (405–359 BCE), not the forty-three of Diodorus, and that Artaxerxes III ruled for twenty-one years (359 to 338 BCE), not the twenty-three of Diodorus. In reading Diodorus, one could get the impression that the transition occurred without incident, but other sources give a different impression.
Plutarch in his Life of Artaxerxes portrays Ochus – Artaxerxes III’s name before he took the throne – as a bloodthirsty, conniving rogue. Artaxerxes II and Stateira had three sons: Darius (the eldest), Ariaspes, and Ochus himself.8 Darius was designated crown prince (Art. 26–28), but nevertheless his schemes, ambition, and desire (for one of his father’s favorite concubines, no less) led him on a convoluted path to rebellion. When the plot was revealed, Darius, several courtiers, and fifty of his illegitimate half brothers, along with their entire families, were killed. Then, through veiled (and fabricated) threats that Ochus orchestrated as though they came from the King himself, Ochus drove his brother Ariaspes to grief and, ultimately, suicide. Artaxerxes’ favorite illegitimate son, Arsames, then gained stature at court, only to be killed by a noble Arpates, son of Tiribazus, at the instigation of Ochus. This series of scandals was apparently too much for the old king Artaxerxes II, who died shortly thereafter.
This whole story reads like high romance, probably inspired by Ctesias’ Persica, so its validity is immediately cast into doubt. To add to the salaciousness of his account, Plutarch portrays Ochus as having been encouraged by his lover, a half sister named Atossa. Atossa was the youngest daughter, and also a wife, of Artaxerxes II, thus making her Ochus’ stepmother as well. Rather than asking if all these details could possibly be true, it is better to ask if any element might square with what we know is reliable. These stories about Ochus, who took the throne name Artaxerxes (III) are a mother lode of Greek stereotypes about Persian rulers and their families. According to a first century CE Roman writer, Valerius Maximus (4.2.7), Ochus buried his lover Atossa alive and also locked his uncle and 100 other relatives in a courtyard and had them shot down by arrows. As described by Plutarch, his character stands in stark contrast to the mild Artaxerxes II because Ochus “surpassed all others in cruelty and bloodlust” (Art. 30).
Inscriptions and Reign of Artaxerxes III
Artaxerxes III’s own royal inscriptions are more in line with what we have come to expect from his predecessors, yet they also have some notable elements. Their archaizing language, coupled with a number of grammatical peculiarities, suggest a conscious hearkening back to the past. Inscriptions riddled with grammatical mistakes always arouse suspicion, but because these were found in situ at Persepolis, their authenticity is not in question. In this case, the errors are believed to reflect a use of the script and language that strove for an archaizing effect. In so doing, a sense of antiquarianism is fostered, one that adds to the inscription’s authority, similar to the use of archaic sign forms in Cyrus’ brick inscription at Ur (see p. 50).
An inscription in four copies from Persepolis testifies to Artaxerxes’ building activity, reflecting the Near Eastern tradition of the king as builder and restorer (A3Pa). Notable is Artaxerxes’ lineage therein, a precise accounting through Darius I to his father Hystaspes and grandfather Arsames. This enhanced antiquarianism is curious, especially because Artaxerxes III – regardless of circumstances surrounding the royal succession – was a legitimate son of his predecessor. It may have been included for the archaizing effect just described.
The inscription opens with a standard invocation to Ahuramazda as the creator god, and he used the same phraseology Darius I used in his tomb inscriptions (DNa and DNb): “A great god is Ahuramazda, who created this earth, who created that sky, who created man” (A3Pa §1). It closes with a standard blessing formula invoking Ahuramazda and also mentions Mithra as well. That is not so surprising, in light of Mithra’s introduction in Artaxerxes II’s inscriptions, but where is Anahita? Just as we have no reason offered for her and Mithra’s inclusion in Artaxerxes II’s inscriptions we have no reason given for her exclusion from Artaxerxes III’s.
We revert to the classical tradition, mainly Diodorus, for a narrative of Artaxerxes III’s reign. Even here the record is slim, though he reigned for twenty-one years. The early 350s BCE are mostly a blank, but the main foreign policy preoccupation continued to be Egypt. As is frequently the case with Diodorus, the chronology is confused; related campaigns and descriptions of their preparations are conflated into much shorter time spans than would have been necessary. Isocrates (To Philip 101) and Diodorus (16.40.3) allude to a failed attempt to retake Egypt dating to 351, but no details are known. Around this same time – before, during, or after makes a difference, but the sequence cannot be determined – Artaxerxes faced a crisis in the Levant in the form of revolts by some Phoenician cities, notably Sidon, and Cyprus. Diodorus implicitly links all this trouble with the Egyptian problem. The Phoenicians and Cypriots rebelled “imitating the Egyptians” and in contempt of Artaxerxes (16.40.5).
The chronological range for these revolts is between 351 and late in 345. The latter date is confirmed by a Babylonian chronicle entry that refers to prisoners taken from Sidon to Babylonia and Susa. This evidence supplies a welcome certainty given the chronological difficulties inherent in the Classical accounts. Diodorus’ implication is that Persian officials’ oppressive behavior drove the people to revolt. This is understood by modern scholars to mean the Persians’ demands during the ongoing war against Egypt.
Careful preparations are described, but Diodorus attributes Artaxerxes’ victory in Phoenicia to the treachery – arranged by Artaxerxes beforehand – of a certain Tennes, the ruler of Sidon, who became overawed at the size of the approaching Persian force (16.45). The treachery motif is a stock one, which does not make it any less plausible, but its recurrence in Classical sources tends to overshadow more compelling questions of Persian strategy and logistics. Artaxerxes wanted to make an example of Sidon, so it was completely destroyed, according to Diodorus. But its full destruction must be an exaggeration, because within twenty years (at the time of Alexander the Great’s invasion) it was again a large and thriving city. Cyprus was also compelled to return to the Empire, though the timing (before or after the capture of Sidon? – Diodorus indicates the latter) is unclear. In any case, with these areas back firmly under Persian control, the path toward Egypt was open.
Egypt had been beyond Persian control for roughly sixty years. To facilitate the invasion in 343/342, Artaxerxes III had summoned a large cadre of mercenaries from Greece. Diodorus offers, as usual, an outsized role to these forces in Artaxerxes’ successful campaign. Diodorus’ account (16.46.4–51) is unsatisfactory in other ways. One of his first remarks about the invasion is how Artaxerxes lost part of his army in the marshes of the eastern Delta because of his ignorance of the lay of the land. This is difficult to reconcile with reality. The Persians were familiar with the territory and approach into Egypt, having traversed it several times since Cambyses’ invasion in 525 BCE. After securing the Delta region, presumably the main strongholds of the rebel kings, Artaxerxes’ forces moved systematically south, up the Nile, toward Memphis where his adversary, Nectanebo II, had withdrawn – but not for long. Afraid of the defection of other cities to Persia – which would have been described by the Persians as reaffirmation of loyalty to the Persian king – Nectanebo fled to Ethiopia and took refuge there. Later tradition elaborates several outrages committed by Artaxerxes as he laid waste to Egypt, some of which – for example the killing of an Apis bull (Aelian, Varia Historia 4.8) – echo those purportedly committed by Cambyses during his invasion in 525–522. It is difficult to give this credibility, but of course it makes for a neat literary parallel.
Diodorus finishes his account with a simple acknowledgement of Artaxerxes’ victory and the appointment of a satrap named Pherendates. What Persian control of Egypt really looked like in the ten years before Alexander’s invasion is unclear. An otherwise unknown Egyptian king called Khababash may have ruled in the early 330s BCE. His control over substantial parts of Egypt is implied by inscriptional material, but he does not appear in any extant Egyptian king list.9 One other important development during Artaxerxes III’s reign was the rising power of Macedon in the northwest, an issue that drives the narrative of the next chapter.