Famous Friday: Mithridates VI, Alexander's Last Heir

I don't blame Rome for conquering the world. Sure, they did some terrible things along the way and their very name became synonymous for oppression, but I don't really think it was all their fault. Rome, not unlike Sparta, had the practice of ensuring its security by serious, disciplined military training, and using slaves to handle the menial work of growing food and tending to the livestock (although Rome's slavery was nowhere near the scale of Sparta's!). This meant that, in the same way that the Peloponnese city-states all wanted to be Sparta's ally when it was strong, the emerging powers of the Mediterranean wanted to be counted among Rome's friends. When a conflict would break out involving one of Rome's allies, they would often call for help and Rome would send and army. Eventually, to save on time and travel expenses, the Romans just built an outpost nearby and eventually saw to all that nagging day-to-day governance stuff.

Ergo (+100 Latin bonus points!), if there was a destabilized area in the Mediterranean from about 200 BCE onward, you could bet that it wouldn't be long before the Romans would lend a hand. Asia Minor circa 90 BCE was one such area where local conflict and civil strife were both common. It was a land of many cultures, having been conquered by both the Persians and Greeks respectively over the previous 500 years, and there was still a significant local population who had their own customs and philosophies. To the Romans, who admittedly had begun to look toward the expansion of their already impressive empire, it looked like a good land for up-and-coming politicians to get noticed through conquest.

So it was that Lucius Cornelius Sulla found himself far from home on the Asian frontier facing off against a mighty Pontic king who had somehow unified these diverse people and formed an army. Mithridates VI, also called Eupator, stood before him proud and defiant, refusing to repent for his slaughter of Roman civilian colonists in the terrible massacre that Appian refers to as the “Asiatic Vespers.” It is important to note that though this act certainly qualifies Mithridates VI as a cruel, petty despot, it was not without pretense from the Romans themselves

Though they admired Greek thought and borrowed their mythology, the Romans were notoriously merciless in their dealings with Greek settlements. In 167 BCE, the Greek colony of Epirus was sacked and all its inhabitants enslaved. In 146 BCE, they destroyed Corinth. Not to mention the slaughter of Archimedes at Syracuse. Though I don't believe the Romans always sought the wars that entangled them, they certainly didn't go to war without real commitment.

Before continuing our tale of the small kingdom of Pontus versus the mighty empire of Rome, let's explore Mithridates as a person, that we might better understand this man and why he did such terrible things. First of all, let's explore the area where he was born.

The light purple is his empire at its most expansive. The dark purple represents where he started. Clearly, this was a man who knew how to exert his influence without the aid of Roman interlopers. His heritage probably has a lot to do with his disdain for all things Roman.

Mithridates was a descendant of Alexander the Great on his father's side, and this was a fact he took great pride in. It helped him to recruit the Greeks living in Asia Minor, as they grew up hearing stories from their parents about mighty Alexander and how he conquered the world. On his mother's side, he was a descendant of Darius I, a mighty Persian conqueror. This helped him to win support from Persians, and also from the Asians. Thus, Mithridates set himself up as the heir of both the Macedonian empire and the Persian empire, which was a powerful political and rhetorical weapon.

His father died when he was only 14, and it is believed that he left his home soon afterward for a time. His mother ruled in his stead as a regent, and meanwhile sold large portions of the Pontic territory to Rome, who was eager to stake their claim on the East. The city of Laodicea is named after her.

Six years after his father's death, Mithridates VI either came of age or returned to his throne (since it's unclear whether he ever really left) and threw his mother in prison. He did not approve of the partitioning of the kingdom, and he especially didn't want to involve the Romans. He desired to defeat them, to overturn a hundred years of virtually unchallenged Mediterranean hegemony and establish a new Helleno-Persian Empire that would rule in its place. But first, he would have to unite Asia, carefully maintaining a balance between diplomacy and outright conquest.

First, he turned his eye to the north, knowing that it would be impossible to reunite Asia without a base of power in the form of money. So, in exchange for protection, he raised and sent an army to drive the Scythians out of Crimea and the Eastern Baltic region. The Bosporans, who lived in that area for many years, eagerly accepted this help because the Scythians had long been their bitter rivals; mostly horse archers who fought with poison arrows and had a raiding-based economy. They were kind of like ancient land-based vikings. Mithridates' army succeeded, thanks to the leadership of Diophantes, one of his greatest generals. Thanks to him, the Rhoxolanoi, a Scythian ally, also accepted Pontic rule. Now that he had cut his teeth on northern politics and warfare, he was ready to mix it up with the locals.

Nicomedes III ruled Bithynia at the time, and Mithridates initially meant to ally with him. Nicomedes proved himself a friend of Rome, however, and so a war broke out between them. Mithridates met Nicomedes on the battlefield, and the Pontic army consistently defeated the poorly-trained Bithynians, who were scattered like chaff in the wind. So it was that Nicomedes chose to enlist Rome's help directly, corresponding with them and begging for relief from the Pontic tyrant. Rome, having received a request for help, gladly obliged and thus began Mithridates' direct struggle with the Empire.

Next week, we will take a detailed look at the tactics and customs of the Pontic peoples, with their Greek Phalanxes, Peltasts, and Scythe Chariots. As this week turned out to be a “Greek Week,” next week will be mostly a “Mithridates VI Week.” Stay tuned, and stay safe.

Pax vobiscum

Technorati Tags: ancient, history, Mithridates, Eupator, empire, Rome

Theology Thursday: The Paradigm of Pettiness

In my younger days (and, let's face it, even now), I couldn't get enough of Myth. I consumed volumes of the stuff, usually the ancient Greek and the Norse, because the idea of many gods was totally different from what I believed, and therefore, intriguing. What especially struck me was their behavior and character, and how different they were in that regard from the God I read about in the Bible.

The Greek gods developed from an oral tradition that quite possibly predates urban Greek civilization. Their stories are almost always told as an answer to a question. For example, the tale of Arachne most likely began when a small child asked their parent where spiders came from. There is a common thread running through most fables of the gods, a universal philosophy: do not cross the gods.

Unlike the Hebrews, whose one God commanded strict obedience to a moral code and religious practice, the Greek gods simply commanded humanity not to get too full of itself. They saw us as a nuisance at best, and rivals at worst. Prometheus, a demi-god who served those uppity Olympians, had the audacity to bring us fire. Zeus was pretty upset by this, since he didn't want humanity becoming powerful enough to overthrow him the way that he, along with his siblings and allies, had overthrown the titans before them. For his trouble, Prometheus was chained to a cliffside where every day birds would come and eat his insides. Every night they would grow back and the circle of pain would continue. It was Heracles who finally saved him on one of his many quests.

Yes, jealousy is an ugly emotion, and the gods were filled with it. The idea of an immortal deity being envious of mankind seems silly to us today, even those of us who still believe that there is a God. Yet the Greeks believed in gods that displayed all the worst human emotions and had super-powers to boot. Hera, Zeus' wife, would frequently vent her frustrations by tormenting some of her philandering husband's illegitimate children (and there were many!). Why, we might ask, didn't she punish her husband directly? Well, Hera's one attempt to go against the king of the gods ended very badly.

Believing that Zeus was wielding too much power for one god, Hera, Poseidon, and Apollo decided to stage a coup, waiting until their king was asleep on his couch and then binding him with one hundred leather ties so that he could not move at all. When Zeus awoke, he was furious and threatened to destroy the betrayers, who openly mocked him, laughing at his feeble attempts to reach the lightning bolts which they had made sure were well out of range. However, the problem with coups is that eventually you have to decide who's in charge. So the three ring-leaders got all the other gods involved and each one began lobbying for leadership in a debate that gradually threatened to erupt into an Olympian civil war.

While they wasted time with talk of succession, Thetis, a long-time friend of Zeus since the days of his rebellion against Chronos, dispatched her giant, named Aegaeon, who possessed one hundred hands. He untied Zeus while the others were distracted, and Zeus quickly grabbed his lightning bolts and brought the situation under control.

For their part in the conspiracy, Apollo and Poseidon were ordered to serve the King of Troy for a time. Taking advantage of this new immortal work force, King Laomedon had them build walls for his city, which were said to be impregnable. If The Illiad is right, it worked, and the Achaeans had to take the city by the trick of the Trojan horse rather than scale those massive walls. Hera received a far worse punishment for her role in the scheme. She was shackled to the sky by her wrists and anvils were hung from her ankles. She continually screamed in anguish night and day until Zeus freed her after securing oaths of permanent fealty from his fellow gods, who cringed at the horrific sound of Hera's pain.

It is interesting that what gave Zeus success in his original ascension is also what prevented this challenge to his power and authority. Unlike the titans before him, who were looked upon by the Greeks as being primitive, Zeus was able to forge alliances and coalitions. He could never have taken the titans down by himself, but with the help of many powerful demi-gods he was able to free his siblings from Chronos' belly, and bring them all to victory. No doubt the Greeks associated the titans with their Mycenaean ancestors, but Zeus and his band were modern gods for a more civilized era, whereby men would be killed in much more civilized ways, no doubt.

It is because of their gods' pettiness that most Greeks simply looked upon them as potential hazards rather than helpers in their time of need. In fact, if a god did help you in your time of need, they probably needed a favor. This is why the Pagan Greeks never wrangled, as modern Christian Theologians do, with the question of suffering. While Christians revere Jehovah as a God who is good and has good intentions, the Greeks held no such opinion of their deities. This meant that while they would sacrifice to them and try to get their attention with great displays of worship, it was either quid pro quo or mollification. That is, if you'd already fought and won your battle, or finished building your house, you would give a dedication to the gods so that they would see your humility and refrain from screwing up your life to remind you that you were still mortal, and therefore not as cool as they are.

The criteria for a successful Greek life was the attainment of fame, whereby you would live forever because people would tell stories about you. The only figures lucky enough to have that honor were, at first, the gods. However, tales of Ulysses, Achilles, Ajax, and the other Greek heroes were passed down through oral tradition and used as models for young Greek boys to follow. And in a world where the gods don't care about you, some claim to fame is your only real hope of eternal life.

Pax vobiscum

Culture Wednesday: Sparta - The Phobiopolis

Few of my friends still make the mistake of mentioning any recent 'historical' movie in my presence. I don't get invited if that's what they're going to see, and if anyone brings it up in conversation, someone else in the group is quick to silence them if I'm around. This is because I hate (HATE) pretty much all modern movies based on historical events. And that includes the most recent Greek tale of heroics and glory, 300.

But wait, before you go back to the lolcats and delete my feed, hear this: I solemnly swear not to make this entire post about how inaccurate and terrible this movie was. However, you should be aware that it will come up. This is not a movie review, just a second look at the Spartans, through the lens of reality rather than romance. Let's start with Sparta's economy.

Every Spartan male was part of the army. From age 7 or so, they would live in the barracks and learn to be ruthless, survivalist warriors. However, if everyone is a Hoplite, who grows the food? Who trades? Well, the Spartan warriors that so many have come to revere and admire were slavers, plain and simple. Sometime very near the founding of Sparta, the surrounding indigenous people, later known as Helots, were enslaved and forced to work on the farms that dotted the Spartan countryside. They wore dog-skin hats and out-numbered the Spartans about 10 to 1 by most estimates. And periodically, just to keep things interesting, the leaders of Sparta would call for a mass execution. Or some soldiers would just kill a few Helots for amusement.

Some historians have claimed that the Helots, though no doubt resistant to their captivity at first, gradually grew to believe the Spartan propaganda that they were less than human and lived only to obey. The number of Helot rebellions seems to squish this theory like a fat, slow bug, however, and I can't bring myself to imagine anyone enjoying slavery. On top of the rebellions, the Spartans themselves would always bear their spear and shield when walking around the city at night, only unbuckling their shields when they were safely within the walls of their own home. That's how seriously they took the threat of being murdered secretly by a group of Helots.

Of course, slavery was common in ancient times, and the Greeks had several different words for slave, ranging from a slave captured in battle to an indentured servant. No one was as cruel to their slaves as the Spartans, though, which has raised a number of questions dealing with their unabashed oppression.

First, why the wanton violence toward the unarmed slaves? Why did they give them annual beatings regardless of their behavior? I believe the answer is fear. The Spartans, under all their armor, chutzpah, and rigorous training were nothing more than a bunch of frightened people trying desperately to obtain some sense of control.

The day-to-day Spartan lifestyle is pretty famous, and is the one thing I will give credit to 300 for portraying correctly. When they were not campaigning, they lived very simple lives as if they always lived in camp. They wore burlap-like clothes, and even their kings lacked the jewels and pomp of their Eastern neighbors. This is why the Spartans were never bribed with money; they didn't use it. Gold was just a shiny metal to them, and they scorned the opulence of Athens and Corinth. Even today, Spartan has become an adjective for someone who lives on the barest necessities.

They craved military power, to the point of conscripting the entire free population permanently. Their army was their most valuable commodity, and it set them apart from their neighbors. To have the Spartans in your alliance was a good reason for your enemies to negotiate. Their Phalanxes were near unbreakable, and their armor was heavy and durable. However, while we interpret military strength as a reason for security, that same thought reveals the insecurity of building up a military in the first place. Why build such a massive, professional force if you have nothing to fear? It was in fear that they trained, and a pure cynical ploy to motivate the troops by the council of Elders to leave the city with no walls (claiming Sparta's fighting men are its walls).

They practiced infanticide for those babies who had deformities or were crippled from birth. This practice horrifies us today, and no one will defend a mother who has left her baby in a dumpster by saying that she is just being “spartan.” Surely they could find work for a child that was disabled, the same way that the Japanese, for example, would train their blind people in the art of massage and acupuncture? But common work is not for Spartans; it is for Helots. The Spartans are born to fight or they are killed after birth. This, too, was fear at work. Fear of weakness, fear of social change, and fear of subjugation.

So the next time you watch a movie or read a book portraying those gallant, rugged, and noble Spartans defending their homeland or joining their allies to defend Greece, don't be taken in by the romantic view that started, I believe, with the Renaissance. Remember the Helot, who lived in daily fear of his life. Remember the baby whose life was taken because he was deemed unfit to live. Remember, most of all, the founders and leaders who would take the freedom of ten times their number just to ensure their own.

Pax vobiscum

Technorati Tags: sparta, fear, slavery, oppression

Spears of the Ancient World - More than Just Pointy Sticks

Thousands of years ago, a hunter was looking for a better way to kill things. So, he found a long stick and tied a sharp rock to one end of it, and used it to kill some food. From such humble origins, the spear has been humanity's weapon of choice for millennia, and that tradition is carried on today (sort of) with bayonets. For the sake of clarity and brevity, today I will focus on three kinds of spears common to the ancient world – 2 Greek and 1 Roman.

Dory – This five- to ten-foot weapon with a iron leaf-head point is the spear of the original Hoplite. It only weighed between 2 and 4 lbs., making it a very versatile and nimble tool. It was the choice weapon of the Greeks, and it served them well for generations. A big bonus to the shorter Dory is that you don't need a lot of training to use it. Sure, you may want to know where to stab people to cause the most damage, but its small size makes it easy to wield and self-preservation does the rest.

While the levies could get away with using instinct in battle, the line soldiers had to be disciplined in both its use and the execution of a solid Phalanx. The Dory had a small bronze spike on the butt which could be pinned into the ground during an enemy charge. Also, if your Dory broke, you could just flip the short spiked end around and use it as a short-range spear.

The longer Dory was used by professional soldiery in the Greco-Persian and Peloponnesian wars. Being heavier and more unwieldy, it took some training to use properly, and you also needed Phalanx training. These spears allowed the Greeks to drive off Xerxes' invasion since they were longer than their Persian counterparts. Once again, longer spears = greater killing range = victory (usually). The Dory served the Greeks well for hundreds of years, but it was outmatched by evolution, which brought about a longer spear that made a 32-year-old Macedonian into the ruler of the Eastern world.

Sarissa – The mighty spears of Phillip II and Alexander the Great could measure between 13 and 21 feet and weigh between 10 and 15 lbs. Because of its size and weight, soldiers needed a lot of training to both use the spear effectively, and march in Phalanx with them. Without a disciplined army, you may as well use your Sarissas to build a wall instead.

Being a very long and heavy spear, Hoplites needed to use both hands to wield it, leaving them more vulnerable to arrows and javelins. The solution was an uncomfortable one: the soldiers would wear a shield that was slung around their necks. Like their predecessor, the Dory, the Sarissa also had a bronze “lizard killer” spike on the hilt to prevent charges and to provide a secondary weapon if (more like when) the spear would break.

The Sarissa evolved into the pike and lance in later times, but never really made it into widespread use the way that the Dory did. The most obvious reason for this is the training commitment. If you have a village full of hunters and farmers, you can hand them Dories and teach them the Phalanx and you won't have too rough of a time. If you give them a two-handed spear and a heavy shield to wear around their neck, however, you have a lot more work to do. The Phalanx peaked with the introduction of the Sarissa, and gradually became outmoded by other types of warfare.

Hasta – The Roman spear evolved from the Dory without a doubt, but they went in a different direction. The average length for a spear like this was 6 ½ feet long, while they opted for larger, oval-shaped shields to defend themselves. The Roman Phalanxes, which comprised early Rome's army, never went toe-to-toe with the Greeks (as far as we know), which is why they could keep their spears short.

The Hasta varied depending on the wealth of its owner. The wealthier Romans used spears with Iron cores, making them near-impossible to break. The less-wealthy opted for simple wood-and-bronze spears, with the butt-spike necessary to stop charging enemies. Every man in early Rome's army possessed a spear, however, since they also used the Phalanx tactic of the Greeks. But the Romans, unlike the Greeks, didn't allow military tradition to dictate the composition of their army.

The Roman weapons and tactics were based on who they were fighting and where. The mountainous terrain of Italy doesn't lend itself to the shoulder-to-shoulder formation of the Phalanx, so they needed flexibility or they would have no hope of defeating local tribes like the Samnites (more on them next week!). So they looked into different weapon technology while continuing to use the spear as a staple.

That is not to say they just moved on! The possession of a spear, and the knowledge to use it effectively, was paramount to early Roman armies. Though little is known about their origins, their mythology indicates that they were a martial people, and they clearly took spear training as a serious matter. Though they modified their Hastas later into javelins and cavalry lances, the spear remained their symbol of war and pride.

Pax vobiscum

Military Monday: Phillip II's Phavorite Phormation

Say you're an ancient Mediterranean warlord getting ready for a campaign and you've mustered a few thousand spear-men through levies and conscription. Now what? You could just march them straight into combat, that is, if you enjoy playing dice with peoples' lives. Or, if you are serious about gaining a victory with minimal losses, you'll use a disciplined formation; you will teach them the Phalanx.

Several ancient cultures, especially the Greeks and Romans, utilized this formation as the core of their strategy. A Phalanx is a group of spear-men who stand in rank shoulder to shoulder and shield to shield, their spears pointed in a unified direction, creating a wall of spear-points. If something happened to the front rank, the second rank would step up to take their place. It started as a simple idea, but simple ideas have a way of evolving when they come into contact with the right people.

The Phalanx came into its own with Phillip II of Macedon, a charismatic, smart Greek warlord and Alexander the Great's absentee father. Under his leadership, the Kingdom of Macedon expanded and conquered much of the Greek peninsula, and he showed no signs of slowing down. Macedon had been a relatively obscure power until he came along, after being educated in warfare while he was a hostage in Thebes. He had learned how a simple switch in traditional strategy had given the Thebans victory over the mighty Spartans and therefore, hegemony over the entire Greek world.

The Spartans always placed their most experienced and elite forces on their right-most flank, but this was a tradition with no strategic purpose. The Thebans took advantage and placed their most elite directly against them, bolstering those ranks with common soldiers as well. The Spartans' right flank crumbled and the rest is, well, history.

The Phalanx was more than just a bunch of guys with spears playing follow the leader though: there were several strategies that they could employ to adjust to their situation. Marching against archers? Bunch up closer to give a smaller target. What if the enemy infantry charges? Macedonian Spears, or sarissas had a short spike on their hilt (called a “lizard killer”) which you could stick in the ground, allowing the enemy to impale themselves on your spears without giving ground. Good order in a Phalanx generally led to victory, and likewise bad order led to certain defeat.

One-sided formations work well as long as the enemy is only attacking from that one direction. However, the sides and rear of the Phalanx were wide open, and unless the lieutenant saw a flank coming and had time to turn the men, they would most likely be scattered and routed by a charge of cavalry or even lightly-armed reinforcements.

Heavy armor was essential for the Hoplites of Phillip's (and later Alexander's) army. Their early conquests were against fellow Greeks who also employed Phalanxes, albeit with inferior equipment (more on this tomorrow). In Phalanx vs. Phalanx, the most important things are quality of weapons, durability of armor, and the discipline of the troops. They would march to each other and then repeatedly strike using brisk stabbing motions, hammering away at their opposition. If a front-rank soldier became afraid, there was nowhere to run, and panic nearly always leads to crushing defeat.

When Phillip II returned from Thebes, he secured his realm and immediately began a rigorous training program for his soldiers. They became experts at the Phalanx, which their leader used to a devastating effect on the battlefield. Their discipline gave them a sense of security on the field, while their leader's charisma gave them confidence.

Alexander the Great owed much to his father. But, although Phillip II built the machine, young Alex would drive it to great fame, which the ancient Greeks desired above all else. This wasn't just a case of a spoiled teenager winning a race with daddy's Bentley, however. Alexander improved on his father's tactics and made them work so well that he regularly won against superior forces. The main way he accomplished this was by a tactic similar to what the Medieval strategists called the Pin and Fork. One of Alexander's Phalanxes would engage an enemy Phalanx, while another unit would flank them . . . or Phlank them [/pun]. However, he did not allow the power of the Phalanx to seduce him into relying on it alone. As he passed through Asia minor, (and by passed through, I mean conquered) he would add local units to his army, taking advantage of their strengths and leading even his vanquished to victory. Using the Phalanx as a core, this young man was able to conquer all of Asia Minor, Palestine, the entire Fertile Crescent, and get all the way to the border of India. Then he drank himself to death, or was poisoned, at the age of 32 while returning home to take a break between victories.

Of course, all things must come to an end, and progress is no respecter of tradition. The Romans, who had also grown very powerful by utilizing the Phalanx, set their eyes on expanding further. They began using larger shields, javelins, and a 3-line infantry tactic that could crush an army of Phalanxes by flanking, dividing, and conquering. Using these and other techniques (stay tuned, kids!), they drove many of the Greek colonists out of Italy and ruled over those that remained. And just as the Phalanx began in Greece and spread to India, Rome's tactics met with success the world over.

Pax vobiscum