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Alexander the Great in the Roman Empire, 150 BC to AD 600
The life of Alexander the Great began to be retold from the moment of his death. Greco-Roman authors used these stories as exemplars in a variety of ways. This book is concerned with the various stories of Alexander and how they were used in antiquity to promote certain policies, religious views, and value systems. The book is an original contribution to the study of the history and reception of Alexander, analyzing the writings of over 70 classical and post-classical authors during a period of over 700 years. Drawing on this extensive range and quantity of material, the study plots the continuity and change of ideas from the early Roman Empire to the early Middle Ages. Jaakkojuhani Peltonen is a researcher at Tampere University. He defended his thesis in 2017. His specific interests include the use of history, Alexander the Great, and perceptions of the past in the classical world.
Alexander the Great in the Roman Empire, 150 BC to AD 600 Jaakkojuhani Peltonen
First published 2019 by Routledge 2 Park Square, Milton Park, Abingdon, Oxon OX14 4RN and by Routledge 52 Vanderbilt Avenue, New York, NY 10017 Routledge is an imprint of the Taylor & Francis Group, an informa business © 2019 Jaakkojuhani Peltonen The right of Jaakkojuhani Peltonen to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilised in any form or by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publishers. Trademark notice: Product or corporate names may be trademarks or registered trademarks, and are used only for identification and explanation without intent to infringe. British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Names: Peltonen, Jaakkojuhani, author. Title: Alexander the Great in the Roman Empire, 150 BC to AD 600 / Jaakkojuhani Peltonen. Description: Abingdon, Oxon ; New York, NY : Routledge, [2019] | “Reception of Alexander the Great.” | Includes bibliographical references and index. Identifiers: LCCN 2018048106 | ISBN 9781138315860 (hardback) | ISBN 9780429456046 (ebook) Subjects: LCSH: Alexander, the Great, 356 B.C.–323 B.C.—Influence. | Alexander, the Great, 356 B.C.–323 B.C.—In literature. | Macedonia— Kings and rulers—Biography. | Macedonia—History—To 168 B.C. | Political oratory—Rome. | History, Ancient—Historiography. Classification: LCC DF234.2 .P45 2019 | DDC 938/.07092—dc23 LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2018048106 ISBN: 978-1-138-31586-0 (hbk) ISBN: 978-0-429-45604-6 (ebk) Typeset in Times New Roman by Apex CoVantage, LLC
To my parents, Matti and Päivi
Contents
List of figures Acknowledgements
viii ix
1
Introduction
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2
Alexander in an empire of Romans, Greeks, and Jews
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3
Alexander as a model of behavior
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4
Alexander in relations of power and influence
133
5
Alexander in Christian apologia
164
6
Conclusion
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Appendix 1: Primary sources Appendix 2: Chronological distribution of the data Bibliography Index
228 238 239 258
Figures
1.1
2.1
3.1
5.1
Apulian amphora, ca. 330–320 BC, red-figure pottery from Ruvo in Magna Graecia. It is a detail showing a battle scene between Alexander and Darius. With the permission of the Ministero dei Beni e delle Attività Culturali e del Turismo – Museo Archeologico Nazionale di Napoli. The Alexander mosaic was found in the House of the Faun in Pompeii. It shows the battle of Issus and underlines Alexander’s martial virtue, widely admired in the Roman world. With the permission of the Ministero dei Beni e delle Attività Culturali e del Turismo – Museo Archeologico Nazionale di Napoli. Alexander the Great as an infant with a nymph. It shows how the idealized portraiture of the early years of the heroic and divine Alexander was known to the people of the Mediterranean and used as a tool for thought and imagination. Mosaic from Baalbek (modern Lebanon), 4th century AD. Source: Photo by Egisto Sani. Copyright by Ministry of Culture/ Directorate General of Antiquities of Lebanon/National Museum of Beirut. Coin minted by Lysimachus (305–281 BC) which portrays Alexander deified as Zeus Ammon. The Macedonian worldconqueror is also depicted with the ram’s horns of Zeus Ammon on the Egyptian coins of Ptolemy. It is impossible to say whether Clement of Alexandria had seen this portraiture of Alexander in coinage, but undoubtedly such coin types made an image of deified Alexander known to the people of the Mediterranean. Source: Classical Numismatic Group, Inc. (www.cngcoins.com).
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Acknowledgements
This book is a revised and expanded version of my doctoral thesis submitted to Tampere University in the autumn of 2017. This project would have been impossible to carry out without the help of a number of scholars, colleagues, friends, and institutions. First of all, I want to express my gratitude to my supervisors and friends, Docent Ville Vuolanto, Docent Katariina Mustakallio, and Professor Christian Krötzl. Their help has been crucial for me in my research. Not only has their guidance been essential in solving the more technical challenges in completing the thesis, but their mature and well-thought ideas have also helped me enormously to develop my thinking as a scholar. My supervisors frequently encouraged me to persist when I faltered, and I am grateful to them for persisting with me, too. We have travelled a long journey to reach this point. I owe special thanks to Doctor Jussi Rantala, Docent Sari Katajala-Peltomaa, and Docent Christian Laes, who read the manuscript of the thesis and gave several good comments and suggestions. I would also like to give sincere thanks to Professor Hugh Bowden and Professor Arja Karivieri for their excellent comments, which enabled me to improve the study. I also wish to thank Pia Mustonen for checking the bibliography and Jouni Keskinen for helping me with the chart in appendix 2. My gratitude also goes to Docent Juhani Sarsila, who as a teacher of Latin and docent of the History of Ideas has revealed to me the value of our classical heritage. My brother and colleague Ollimatti Peltonen has guided me through difficult situations and provided his helping hand on several occasions during my studies. He has given me insightful comments not only on the dissertation but also on papers yet to be published. Other scholars and colleagues who have helped me and to whom I want to express my gratitude include the following: Docent Maijastiina Kahlos, Docent Jussi Hanska, Docent Markku Hyrkkänen, Docent Martti Leiwo, Doctor Kenneth Moore, Doctor Sanna Joska, Doctor Miikka Tamminen, Antti Oikarinen, Outi Sihvonen, Teijo Räty, and lastly Risto Kunnari. I also want to express my gratitude to the Finnish Cultural Foundation’s Central Fund, the Finnish Cultural Foundation’s Pirkanmaa Regional Fund, the Jalmari Finne Foundation, and the Tampere City Science Foundation. Without their financial support, this research would have been impossible. In addition, I am indebted to the School of Social Sciences and Humanities of Tampere University, which awarded a grant to cover the proofreading of my work and the traveling
x Acknowledgements costs for seminars that helped me to improve my argumentation. All translations are mine unless otherwise noted. Doctor Celine Murphy checked the language of the first version of the manuscript. Doctor Philip Line checked the language of the final version of the book, helped me to bring the translations into suitable English, and gave several good comments and suggestions, for which I am grateful. Finally, special thanks go to my late grandfather Orvo. Already as a five-yearold child I was greatly inspired by his scientific thinking. I am sure he would have been proud of my accomplishment in completing this research. Moreover, it is to him that I owe my lifelong interest in Alexander. When I was just a child, he used to read a fascinating comic book about Alexander to me (originally published in French Dans les pas d’Alexandre le Grand, A la recherche des sources du Nil in 1978, Société des Périodiques Larousse). Therefore, I have to give him the credit for providing the impetus that led to this book, even though he is sadly no longer with us and my words do not reach him. Jaakkojuhani Peltonen Tampere, July 2018
1
Introduction
Alexander III of Macedon (356–323 BC), better known as Alexander the Great, is one of those rare historical figures who has fascinated a legion of writers in both the past and the present. Not only the ancient Greeks and Romans, but also Jews, Christians, and Muslims from antiquity to modern times have written (and will no doubt continue to write) about Alexander. Opinions about him have been as varied as those who have told his story, which has been told and retold in written and oral narratives, visual presentations, paintings, mosaics, sculptures, and, of course, in more recent times, movies. Over the centuries, his figure has inspired monarchs, politicians, soldiers, travelers, painters, poets, orators, philosophers, religious leaders, and commoners. Alexander’s life has been idealized in various ways. He has been considered a military genius whose strategy and tactics have been analyzed in great detail and an exemplar for building an empire through military conquest. He has served as a romantic figure of heroic youth as well as an archetype of the philosopher – king. His life has inspired adventurers and explorers. In addition, his reign has been seen in the religious context of providential history, revealing the power of God. However, in contrast to the role model and idol, there is another Alexander, the bloody tyrant whose reign meant universal terror and destruction, who provides an example of the wrong kind of autocracy that harms its subjects, a model to be avoided rather than emulated. In this negative role as in his positive one, Alexander has stirred emotions and his story has reverberated through the ages. Alexander’s popularity as an admired paragon with whom modern-day people can identify has not abated in the 20th and 21th centuries. Comics, documentaries, films, novels, statues, and songs about him have inspired not only European peoples but also those of the Near East and South Asia. In the modern era, the heroic presentation of Alexander can be recognized in the equestrian statues erected in public places throughout modern Greece and the Republic of Macedonia (FYROM). The same heroic and idealizing portrait characterizes Andy Warhol’s Alexander series of 1982, the English heavy metal band Iron Maiden’s song Alexander the Great of 1986, and Oliver Stone’s blockbuster film Alexander of 2004.1 However, behind these modern portraits of Alexander there often lie modern ideological movements like nationalism. The first film about Alexander was the epic Bollywood film Sikandar of 1941, directed by Sohrab Modi. This film roused
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Introduction
patriotic feelings by using the battle between Alexander’s invading troops and the Indian king Porus as an analogy for the Indian struggle to win independence from Britain.2 The film was censored for a while in some theatres. The potential for political and ideological use of Alexander has been manifested recently in the controversies between the governments of Greece and Macedonia. Both states have promoted the legacy of Alexander and ancient Macedonia in their politics and have constructed their national identity with the help of his figure. The dispute about who has the right to use the name ‘Macedonia’, thus claiming Alexander and his kingdom as a national symbol, has festered since the birth of the modern Republic of Macedonia in 1991 (officially recognized in 1993).3 This modern-day obsession with Alexander reflects the long historical use of Alexander’s legacy. Modern-day politicians, Greek and Macedonian nationalists, movie directors and artists are merely following a 2,300-year-old tradition, one embraced by British imperialists in the 19th century, Swedish monarchs in the 17th and 18th centuries, Portuguese colonialists, and medieval epic poets.4 How did Alexander become such a prominent figure and a reference point? Of course, the use of historical figures’ legacies to justify and promote one’s goals has deep historical roots, and use of Alexander has historical roots, too. In Western historical thinking, because Rome extended it power and influence so far, it is normally the first port of call when attempting to trace the historical roots of a certain phenomenon. As so often when studying European cultural history, we encounter the legacy of ancient Rome and its heritage. As we know, Rome’s cultural values, religious beliefs, technological advancements, engineering, and the Latin language have made an enormous impact on European societies. In line with this, before medieval Europe became obsessed with his story, the Romans had already created the Alexander phenomenon by making him a paragon and exemplary figure. This is theme of this book, in which I will explore the very roots of using Alexander as an historical exemplum. The long historical use of Alexander as a rhetorical tool began in the Greco-Roman world. In a way, they created the myth of Alexander as a superhero. My aim is to show the scope and magnitude of this phenomenon in the ancient world. This book will give a detailed analysis of the different ways the Greco-Romans used Alexander, providing a model for future centuries.
The exemplarity of the past Humans have a need to explore the past. People through the ages have used the past to understand themselves and others. The past is a series of events, which are arranged in a sequence and combined to form a story. People are inclined to respect these stories of the past because its events provide lessons and examples for posterity and explanations of their current status. Thus, these stories are used as a tool to justify a course of action, to strengthen a certain value system or social order, or to regulate behavior. However, stories, or as modern historians would like to say, interpretations, of the past change; those who claim to know and understand the past have the opportunity to retell its history. In retelling the story, people create the past anew. Different eras and cultures may produce a
Introduction 3 slightly different story of the past, re-emphasizing, rearranging, or reinterpreting its events. The stories reflect the value system of a given society. The power of historical examples has been particularly strong in cultures of the past. In the premodern world, the exemplarity of the past was considered self-evident; it was seen as a source of wisdom, for both individuals and society. The stories dealing with historical events and personae were considered a storehouse of moral codes and lessons in ethics for kings, religious officials and monks, soldiers, and peasants. The Ciceronian trope of historia magistra vitae (‘history as a teacher of life’)5 dominated Western thinking until the turn of the 19th century. The paradigm shifted after 1850 with the increasing popularity of positivist theories. Famously, the historian Leopold von Ranke announced that the historian’s task was primarily to recount, while not judging, the past for the benefit of future generations. The aim of like-minded 19th-century historians was to make history an objective and empirical field of science. Such professional historians were no longer simply moral instructors, but attempted to follow the path of the natural sciences: “One just learns history from history.”6 Even though modern historical theory does not prefer writing history in order to provide moral exempla, the idea itself has not been rejected altogether. To varying degrees, even modern historians argue that history can teach us lessons and provide exempla of life for modern communities. Since we live in a globalized world where mankind tries to find solutions to worldwide problems, historical knowledge and understanding has been recommended, by some historians, as a tool for solving these problems, since it enables man to learn from the mistakes of the past.7 As Jared Diamond writes, “The past offers us a rich database from which we can learn, in order to keep on succeeding.”8 However, the question of using and abusing history is a difficult one. The idea rests on the belief that ‘true’ and ‘false’ presentations of the past can be detected and that wrong uses of history can be separated from right ones. In addition, the critique of ‘history as a teacher of life’ does not diminish the fact that, outside the academic world, history has been used continuously as a teacher ever since the foundation of the first civilizations.9 If we appreciate that, at least to some extent, authors throughout history have embraced the idea of ‘history as a teacher of life’ and as a source of exempla, we may ask which historical figures were seen as admirable or exceptional enough to be used for these purposes? Obviously, contemporary values dictate which persons are admired or deplored and whose stories and lives will be retold and reinterpreted. Different eras see different things as exemplary, but a consistent and universal feature is that those who are believed to be exceptional are put up on a pedestal. People have been set up as paragons and icons to represent ideals and function as models for a certain stage of life, gender, or set of values. These individuals may be worshipped and venerated during their lifetime, but it is subsequent generations that decide the value of their legacy, whether they will be posthumously mystified, glorified, or vilified. Stories of their lives are retold, and their visual portraits become known to all. Not only has the posthumous mystification and heroicizing of well-known people continued into our own times, but mass media and popular culture have
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Introduction
arguably assisted it. We need only list James Dean, Elvis Presley, Marilyn Monroe, Jim Morrison, Jimi Hendrix, and Kurt Cobain. Their relatively short-lived but meteoric careers were ended by an early or tragic death, but only after their deaths did they become immortal, iconic figures. They were idealized by 20thcentury popular media journalists, biographers and documentarists, advertisers and promotors. Furthermore, there have also been political and military figures among the ‘modern immortals’. One of the best examples is the Argentine communist leader Che Guevara, who also died young and became a symbol of youth, rebellion, and the fight for justice. His visual portrait (based on the picture taken by Alberto Korda in 1960) is not only known in popular culture, but is still used by those fighting for a political cause. The same mechanism seems to apply to 20th-century pop stars and politicians. Whatever the commercial or propagandistic motives of modern media, we are still witnessing a similar phenomenon to the heroicizing of historical figures. Historical consciousness – whether based on orally transmitted stories or written sources – is saturated by historical individuals. If we think about historical events, eras, wars, values, and dialogues, there is always an individual who comes to mind, a figure who gives a face to the story or phenomenon. Over the centuries, historical narratives have often been viewed from the perspective of major actors in politics, war, art, music, religion, and science. The fates of peoples, polities, and cultures are perceived to have been shaped by them. From the first cultures of which we have records of named individuals, in ancient Egypt and Mesopotamia, the deeds of mighty individuals have dominated their histories, mythical or otherwise. The actions of pharaohs and kings dominate the inscriptions and reliefs of Egypt and Assyria, reflecting the royal ideology at the core of their societies. Later, in Greco-Roman antiquity, the spotlight still fell on great men of the past. In the view of the Greeks and Romans, important and influential men exerted a major influence on the world and therefore their lives and deeds merited study.10 From Herodotus and Thucydides historiographical narratives were formed around the lives of monarchs and political leaders whose actions allegedly changed the course of history. In the field of science, the illustrious lives of philosopher – scientists were celebrated and anecdotes of their lives used as guides for behavior. Famous sculptors and painters were regarded as emulated and venerated masters. Also, in Near Eastern cultures spiritual leaders like Moses, Zoroaster, Buddha, and Jesus were regarded as great men whose lives were studied and imitated.11 The writing of Alexander the Great’s history should be seen in the context of both the accepted exemplarity of the past and the recognized central role of illustrious men in history. Firstly, a person had to be appreciated as a legend and idealized to fit the idea of a great man, so he could be used as an exemplar supporting certain social mores and a value system. As we shall see, Alexander provided excellent material to function in this way in Greco-Roman culture, which in turn would have an enormous impact on later cultures. The various uses of Alexander the Great as a figure of interest began in the Hellenistic kingdoms soon after his death and continued from the end of the Roman Republic to the Imperial
Introduction 5 period, persisting even after the Christianization of the Empire.12 The use of Alexander’s character gives us a good insight into how one individual can offer many rhetorical possibilities to authors representing different groups, identities,13 and ideologies in the ancient and modern world.
The task and the sources used In this study, I approach the use of history and the supposed exemplarity of the past through the numerous Classical and post-Classical texts concerning Alexander the Great. The stories about Alexander here serve as a tool to explore the role of history in the literary culture of the Roman and late ancient world. I discuss the different functions of history by distinguishing how and why the figure of Alexander was used in the literary culture of the Greco-Roman upper classes. The key research questions addressed in this study are the following: What kind of rhetorical and ideological functions did the literary presentations of the king support? Why was Alexander such a popular figure in texts of different genres? By answering these questions, I shed light on the use of history and on the understanding of the role of history as magistra vitae in the ancient world. In this study ‘using history’ means a rhetorical action, a means to promote a certain ideology and self-presentation by referring to historical figures of the remote past.14 The aim of this book is to explore the differences between the various representations of Alexander and their mutual impact. My study offers a pragmatic view of the past as a rhetorical practice, with the purpose of achieving certain ideological goals. I shall examine how authors were defending, warning, accusing, praising, persuading, accepting certain opinions, crafting their self-presentation, acclaiming, or giving advice and instruction with the help of the past. In my analysis, I examine the potential for certain philosophical, political, religious, and personal messages behind these ancient accounts of the Macedonian king. This research is important not only because it illustrates the position of the past in the Classical world, but also because it provides us with material with which to compare the ways we presently see and use history today. Little attention has been paid to the ideological uses of history in any period (especially in the Classical period) from the contemporary perspective. One of the fundamental starting points of this research is that the importance of the past and history in the ancient world was tied to its ideological and rhetorical usage. This is true not only where ancient historiography or oratory are concerned but also in the case of private letters and philosophical treatises. The present research explores what ancient writers ‘did with Alexander’ when they wrote about the world conqueror whose status as an icon and fame were selfevident facts. Scholars have long searched for the ‘historical’ or ‘real’ Alexander and disputed his true character. The quest for the historical Alexander has been popular among European intellectuals and historians since the Enlightenment, even though the source material presents a significant challenge to anyone who wants to write
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about what ‘actually’ happened during Alexander’s reign.15 However, instead of analyzing all possible textual sources dealing with Alexander, most have concentrated mainly on the five Classical accounts of Alexander’s reign (Diodorus, Curtius, Plutarch, Arrian, and Justin/Trogus), leaving the shorter Classical and post-Classical passages aside.16 Moreover, if scholars have not studied the historical Alexander, their interest has centered on the form, style, and literary themes of the separate texts. Sometimes passages concerning Alexander have been considered different images and views of Alexander, or reflecting Roman perceptions of the king.17 Here, I argue that it is these minor passages especially that can offer us valuable information on the ideological and rhetorical uses of history and historical figures in the ancient world. My purpose is to identify the values and messages these authors were promoting when they wrote about Alexander. The period under consideration here starts with the last centuries of the Roman Republic and extends to the Christianized Empire of the sixth century AD. The sources of this study cover various works from Polybius to Procopius and represent several different genres: historiography, oratory, epistles, and philosophical treatises. The approach of this study is qualitative. Since I am examining a long period, extending from 150 BC to AD 600, and since my sources represent several literary genres, some attempt can be made to identify overall changes in the use of history in texts as the period progressed. I have systematically collected and analyzed the surviving passages about Alexander the Great (see Appendix 1: Primary Sources) dating from 150 BC to AD 600. The sources for the present study include several works from various writers, amounting to about 70. These sources represent several genres, thus enabling a fuller understanding of the uses of the past in different forms of literature.18 Many of the sources, especially texts from Late Antiquity, have not been previously examined in the context of Alexander studies. The chronological distribution of my source material is indeed wide: a great part of it dates to the first, second, and fourth centuries AD. There are a few texts originating from the fifth or sixth century AD (see Appendix 2: Chronological Distribution of the Data). This distribution might lead one to the conclusion that Alexander’s legacy faded in Late Antiquity. However, it must be remembered that the number of surviving works from this period is relatively small and may represent only a small proportion of what was written. I have analyzed all the literary sources in which I could find depictions of Alexander, his image, his reign, or stories/myths about him. However, I do not attempt to offer an overall analysis of any individual Alexander history. The works of Diodorus, Curtius, Plutarch, Arrian, and Justin/Trogus are considered where relevant to my subject, but an analysis of their corpora as a whole is not made. For example, I will not attempt a comprehensive interpretation of the way the image of Alexander is used in Arrian’s work as a whole, even though I use some passages of his work as my source material. Neither do I concentrate on the Alexander Romance tradition, which has no identifiable authorship and can never be said to have a fixed form. It would also require analysis of other medieval texts, and only a few of the known versions belong to the period, which is my primary
Introduction 7 reason for discussing it only to a limited extent.19 My aim is to examine passages that, rather than giving a coherent story of the Macedonian king, express moral ideas by redeploying the image of Alexander. As a common factor in my approach he plays an instrumental role in the narrative. According to Horace, literature has two principal goals: to instruct (docere) and to delight (delectare).20 In this study, I concentrate on the past’s ‘instructive’ or teaching aspect and do not pay much attention to the ways in which stories of past events served as entertainment for contemporary audiences. Under scrutiny is the period during which the Roman Empire ruled many parts of Europe and the whole of the Mediterranean world. This is when Greco-Roman cultural hegemony indisputably enabled the rise of Christianity. Since a temporal gap exists between the lost early Hellenistic works and the surviving Roman ones, I see it as reasonable to extend my time frame from the second century BC to the sixth century AD.21 My study ends with the rise of Islam because it marked a dramatic change in the Roman East and caused a reorientation in its remaining territories, the Byzantine Empire, which in and of itself was a separate continuator of the Classical tradition. My sources include the works of both Latin and Greek writers. Some of the writers were simultaneously what we would call philosophers, historians, poets, satirists, and professional orators, and wrote several works. Cicero, Seneca the Elder, Horace, Seneca the Younger, Lucan, Pliny the Elder, Valerius Maximus, Vitruvius, Silius Italicus, and Juvenal are among the Latin writers of the Late Republic and the early Principate. These authors give us a picture of the literary culture of the Early Empire. The works of these writers were mainly philosophical treatises, epistles, epic poetry, and oratory. Also important are the Roman Latinlanguage historians Livy, Velleius Paterculus, Curtius, and Tacitus. Many of these Latin works were composed in Italy and reflect the mentalities and culture of the senatorial elites. These authors and their works will be introduced in the main chapters of the study. Another group of sources for the period encompassing the reigns of Augustus (27 BC – AD 14) and Marcus Aurelius (161–180) consists of the works of Greek writers. Diodorus, Strabo, Plutarch, Dio Chrysostom, Arrian, Appian, Polyaenus, Lucian, and Maximus of Tyre all came from the Eastern Greek provinces of the Roman Empire. In many cases, they directed their works towards both Greek and Roman audiences. In addition, they represented the Greek upper classes that strived to achieve a prominent social position in the Romanized Hellenistic world. There are also Jewish-Greek writers – Philo of Alexandria and Josephus – whose works I analyze in this study. I also exploit the rich source material of the Christian writers whose works were composed in the Later Roman Empire. Tatian of Syria, Clement of Alexandria, Tertullian, and Origen represent Christian writers of apologetics in the second and third centuries. Their works were written in the period when the Christian communities formed a minority in the Roman world. From the fourth to sixth centuries, a vast group of Christian authors and ecclesiastical notables lived at the time when the Christian Church gained a dominant position in the
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Empire. Arnobius, Eusebius, Basil of Caesarea, Gregory of Nyssa, John Chrysostom, Jerome, Augustine, Orosius, Palladius, Sozomen, Fulgentius, Procopius, and Ennodius belong to this group. Many of the Christian writers lived and acted in the Eastern part of the Roman Empire. These writers’ works include theological treaties, sermons, epistles, and histories. My source material also contains many non-Christian writers of Late Antiquity. Libanius, Himerius, and Themistius were professional orators and philosophers who pursued a career at the imperial court as imperial advisers and officials. Amongst court poets and panegyrists are Claudian, Ausonius, and several anonymous writers. In addition, valuable information can be extracted from the writings of Emperor Julian. All these writers were members of the Greco-Roman upper classes and directed their works to the members of their contemporary elite circles. The authors themselves, as well as their audience, were educated and well acquainted with the theory and practice of rhetoric. Various definitions for ‘rhetoric’ have been offered by both Classical and modern writers. One modern definition is George Kennedy’s: for him, rhetoric is the ‘art of persuasion by words’. At the same time, rhetoric is a phenomenon of human life, language, and history. Kennedy describes the origin of rhetoric as follows: Ultimately what we call ‘rhetoric’ can be traced back to the natural instinct to survive and control our environment and influence the actions of others in what seems the best interest of ourselves, our families, our social and political groups and our descendants. This can be done by direct action – force, threats, bribes, for example – or it can be done by the use of ‘signs’ of which the most important are words in speech or writing.22 From the standpoint of the present study, the different passages about Alexander are regarded as rhetorical actions in which an individual tried to control his environment and to influence the actions of others. I approach my literary sources as different Alexander presentations, or ‘uses’, constructed more or less deliberately by the authors themselves. In all cases, the given presentation relates to the author’s line of reasoning and to the political and cultural context in which the texts were produced. Thus, I consider the literary sources as rhetorical actions and approach them as ‘uses of the past’. The authors themselves are to be considered ‘users of the past’. The theoretical approach I apply during my close reading of the texts relates to the concept of narrative. Historical narration is not a neutral genre but is deeply impacted by ideological construction. ‘Uses of history/Alexander’ are often presented in the form of narratives, in which the narrator controls the rhetorical pattern of argumentation. In the works of ancient writers, the form of the narrative and the narrative techniques are in the present. I explore how forms of narrative are connected to the argumentation of the writer. One of the main hypotheses of my study is that each writer’s prime concern was to achieve his rhetorical goals through his narrative, which could include the transmission of the desired didactic, moral, apologetic, and ideologically colored messages.23
Introduction 9 A growing field in Classical scholarship is reception studies.24 These investigations center on the reader or the receiver.25 Nevertheless, if we approach specific ancient writers as more or less passive ‘receivers’ of certain preexisting texts or past historical figures, as is sometimes the case in reception studies, it is easy to forget that these authors often chose certain traditions for ideological purposes. Here, I explore whether the ‘users’ of the Alexander tradition should be regarded more as active producers of the past than as passive ‘receivers’ of the previous tradition. My interest is in exploring the extent to which the authors picked up or themselves created the traditions concerning single anecdotes or longer narratives for their rhetorical purposes. These writers were not working like modern historians who are supposed to be faithful to their original sources. We must remember that more often than not, when it comes to literature concerning Alexander we do not know what particular texts the authors read or were influenced by, or how faithfully they followed the previous tradition, but we can distinguish the uses and the functions of their presentations; that is, the themes or arguments they constructed around the material found in the Alexander tradition. When analyzing my sources, I exploit the concepts of intention and context. Quentin Skinner, a historian of the Early Modern and modern periods, stressed the importance of context in determining the meaning of the texts and claimed that the authors’ intentions can be extracted from their texts.26 These intentions can be inferred from ‘inside’ the text. Skinner applied the speech – act theory, and described his approach as “the idea of treating a text as a form of social action, and seeking to understand it by way of recovering what the writer saw himself as doing in writing it.”27 Later, J. G. A. Pocock, a historian of the laws and institutions of Early Modern and modern England, expounded upon Skinner’s thesis.28 Critics of contextualism questioned the possibility for a historian, or a reader, to get to the texts’ ‘real’ contexts through textual evidence. Instead of intentions, some historians of the premodern periods have therefore encouraged examination of ‘the context of the text’s production’, or approaching the texts as ‘sites of articulation’.29 In this study, my aim is to identify these layers while keeping in mind that the modern researcher can never be sure of all the original contexts and intentions behind individual ancient texts. Nonetheless, I would argue that instead of searching for ‘definite’ intentions behind each passage, it is possible to distinguish some of the different layers of argumentation from the texts and their functions. To bring together intention, context, narrative, and audience, I have developed a specific method or theoretical framework. I have named this theoretical framework a ‘process of using the past’ and I apply it when approaching ancient texts and their rhetorical production. The first stage of this process consists of an analysis of an author’s – a user of the past – rhetorical intentions towards his audience.30 The second phase of the process examines how the ancient author creates his narrative by choosing and adapting material from the previous literary tradition. Consequently, it is possible to observe how this author collects and arranges his data in a way that supports his arguments. I also take into account the fact that the ancient author could add new material and nuances to the presentation of the past when producing his presentation of it.
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The line of argumentation can be read either explicitly or implicitly in the text. Explicit reading concerns texts like letters, where the author reveals why he writes or what his aims and wishes are. However, caution is necessary because the given motives are not always to be trusted, or seen as the only possible motives behind the passage. Implicitly covered private aims and rhetorical goals can be detected to some extent by thinking over what the author picks up, or omits, from the tradition, or how he arranges his presentation and what his argumentative strategy is. The researcher can contextualize a passage by connecting the information he or she has about the writer and his writings, and about the sociopolitical background of the work. It is important, however, to remember that access to the context of the text’s production is always incomplete.31 Information about ancient writers and their works is often meagre. Sometimes we do not even know the author’s name or his identity and the date of the literary composition is often disputed. Nevertheless, even in these cases, it is possible to identify – while using the method proposed above – many things about the rhetorical argumentation and the values the anonymous writer defended, justified, or attacked. In the final stage of the ‘process of using the past’ the text meets its audience. Undoubtedly, ancient writers tried to prepare compositions appealing to their audiences. The community had its values and preconceptions that affected the ways the past was viewed, and thus how certain stories had previously been told. Therefore, the nature of the audience to whom the text was directed exerted an impact on the way the work was constructed. In some cases, although we do not know about the exact contemporary audience to whom a work was addressed, we can, nevertheless, assert certain things about how the author wrote and what issues he considered his listeners and readers to be familiar with. By using the aforementioned comparative method, I will interpret how ancient authors, as ‘users of the past’, exploited available traditions and how they simultaneously produced new representations of Alexander. ‘History/past being used’ refers here both to the previous Alexander tradition and to the past which ancient writers created in their texts. The Alexander tradition/ corpus was already rich in the early Hellenistic period. We know that Alexander material of various kinds existed: not just histories but also epic poems and tracts composed by many early Hellenistic writers.32 These early works formed vast collections of stories, anecdotes, and images of Alexander which provided the foundation for later images of the Macedonian world conqueror or tyrant. I have divided my study according to the different uses of the Alexander tradition and the functions of the literary images Alexander inspired. The different themes concern pedagogy, philosophy, and social life in both the political and religious contexts. In what follows, I shall not proceed to treat each author individually, nor shall I divide the texts into separate sections according to their genres, since these texts contain similar rhetorical elements and uses of Alexander. Therefore, different texts representing different genres are dealt with together alongside the themes and issues of the main chapters. In the second chapter, “Alexander in an empire of Romans, Greeks, and Jews”, I examine the role of Alexander in the political discourse of the Empire. The chapter first focuses on Roman
Introduction 11 Latin, Roman Greek, and Jewish patriotic uses of Alexander. Then, I analyze the political milieu of the texts of Late Antiquity. The third chapter, “Alexander as a model of behavior” is devoted to philosophical and pedagogical passages concerning Alexander. This chapter deals with passages written especially by the philosophers and pedagogues of Greco-Roman antiquity. In the fourth chapter, “Alexander in relations of power and influence”, I turn to examine the passages where the Roman writers of the Early and Later Empire flattered and persuaded men of higher rank by drawing comparisons and analogies with Alexander. The fifth chapter, entitled “Alexander in Christian apologia”, deals mainly with the material written by Christian authors of the early third to sixth century. Although I examine some passages written by Jewish and Christian authors in chapters 2 and 4, the fifth chapter concentrates on the passages directly constructing Christian and Jewish religious and cultural identity. The themes of my work deal with the different values and practices of the Roman elite: proper upbringing and education, social relations (patronage, friendship), participation in public life, and political and religious obligations.
Previous research The objective of identifying the so-called facts in Alexander’s story has had a great impact on the way in which scholars have approached the ancient sources. In the traditional approach, scholars have mainly analyzed surviving literary sources written by Diodorus, Curtius, Plutarch, Arrian, and Justin/Trogus. These ancient authors wrote their works 300 or 400 years after Alexander’s reign, but allegedly based their works on – now lost – Hellenistic works.33 By using Quellenforschung, modern historians of Alexander have attempted to track borrowings from the Hellenistic texts.34 Correspondingly, the scientific approach in commentaries on histories of Alexander has mainly treated the historical reconstruction of his reign, and has approached these works by asking how much these surviving pieces follow the supposed literary sources of the early Hellenistic world.35 A primary scholarly debate concerns the reliability of different ancient authors who wrote about Alexander. The basic question was (and still is for the scholar studying the historical Alexander) which of the authors should be considered the most trustworthy. Scholarship offers a basic classification of two groups of sources based on the sources they themselves used: first, that of Arrian following mainly Ptolemy and Aristobulus, and second, the so-called ‘vulgate’ authors, consisting of Diodorus, Curtius, and Justin/Trogus, who mostly followed Cleitarchus.36 Scholars such as William Tarn and N. G. L. Hammond ranked Arrian’s Anabasis as the most reliable source on Alexander. According to this view, Arrian was the most trustworthy because he employed the best methods and the most reliable main sources. Arrian’s special position was first questioned in the debate concerning the authenticity of the royal ephemerides used by Ptolemy.37 This critique raised doubts about Arrian’s method and his sources. Ernst Badian and A. B. Bosworth, for example, pointed out some contradictions and inaccuracies in Arrian’s text and regarded the information found in ‘vulgate’ authors, such as
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Diodorus and Curtius, as often more reliable.38 Most recent scholarship tends not to recognize Arrian or the so-called ‘vulgate’ authors as unquestionable authorities, but treats the available sources with caution and episode by episode.39 In recent years, historians of Alexander have paid more attention to the general political and cultural milieu of the fourth century BC, rather than simply writing straightforward biographies of the king. Instead of concentrating only on Alexander himself, scholars have stressed the role of his father, Philip II, and his mother, Olympias, and have considered the historical development of ancient Macedonia before and after Alexander’s reign.40 Krzysztof Nawotka, Robert Rollinger, and Sabine Müller draw attention to the evidence found in ancient Near Eastern texts and to new archeological findings.41 Moreover, Hugh Bowden, for example, stresses the importance of giving greater weight to contemporary documents – such as epigraphy – than has been customary. He also believes that studies on Alexander should pay more attention to the Near Eastern context rather than to the Greek or Macedonian context alone.42 Scholarship dealing with the historical Alexander has met with criticism in two scholarly reviews written by James Davidson (2001) and Mary Beard (2011). Davidson proposed a concept called the Alexanderland which refers to a lack of any fresh approach to old sources. He accused scholars of carrying out uninteresting and unfruitful source-speculation. In the final lines of his review, he remarked: The texts are finally running out and Alexander historians are finally running out of excuses for not doing something more interesting with their subject.43 In her review, Beard remarked that most modern historians of Alexander are still trying to answer the same traditional range of questions, based on the same approach to the same evidence. At the end of her article she suggested that the Roman context should be further stressed, since ancient writers were bound to have perceived the king’s story through a Roman filter, and consequently interpreted and adjusted it in a way characteristic of their own political age.44 Unfortunately, studies developing these ideas have not yet appeared. I am not stating that attempting to determine what is likely to have happened in the fourth century BC is not a legitimate research topic, but rather that interesting new research directions can be found by asking new questions and by expanding the literary source-material. New questions could, for example, encompass asking why ancient authors wrote about Alexander, and what their interests were in referring to and reinterpreting the story of an individual living several hundred years earlier. Previous research has recognized the contemporary rhetorical layers, but the focus of these studies has primarily revolved around the question of what is fact and what is fiction.45 Recently, some scholars have given attention to this feature, but it has been relegated to a secondary position – studying the contemporary rhetorical layers does not typically direct research in the way it does in my study.46 Accordingly, a great proportion of Roman sources, including those written by Christian writers, or texts of Late Antiquity, has not received much attention.47
Introduction 13 Different literary portraits of Alexander were traditionally considered as particular perspectives on the king. Early 20th-century scholarship distinguished two doctrinal portraits of him: the Peripatetic and the Stoic views.48 According to this theory, Peripatetic philosophers perceived the Macedonian king as Aristotle’s first good student. However, since Alexander killed Callisthenes (who was Aristotle’s nephew), the king was perceived in a negative light. On the other hand, the Stoic view promoted Alexander as the root of all evil. The Peripatetic theory was first challenged by Ernst Badian.49 The thinking behind hostile Stoic views on Alexander was then questioned by J. Rufus Fear (1974). More recently, scholars simply reject the dichotomy between Peripatetic and Stoic views, and divide different images of the king into ‘positive’ or ‘negative’ impressions of him.50 In certain analyses the portraits of Alexander in ancient texts have not been considered views but images. For example, Petre Ceauşescu (1974), Jacob Isager (1993), and Claude Mossé (2001) have argued that the different portraits of Alexander in art and literature are constructed images.51 These images have been regarded by scholars as positive/favorable or negative/hostile images of the king. Although these studies dealt with images of Alexander and their uses, their general approach was descriptive.52 Andrew Stewart’s Faces of power – Alexander’s image and Hellenistic politics (1993) employed visual sources, frescoes, sculptures, and coins as primary source material. Stewart perceived the sources as several representations of Alexander made in a cultural context, rather than as works depicting the historical Alexander. In his opinion, moreover, literary sources should be approached as various representations of Alexander, although he did not actually examine literature himself.53 More recently, Diana Spencer and Sulochana Asirvatham have studied the reception of Alexander in Roman Latin and Greek literature. Their point of view is above all literary. The most important of these, I would argue, is Diana Spencer’s Roman Alexander (2002). According to Spencer, detecting the ‘real’ Alexander is not essential. Instead she approaches the Alexander narratives as ‘stories’. The significance of Spencer’s research lies in the fact that she is not exploring the historical Alexander, but is more concerned with how the Macedonian king lived on in Roman cultural memory. Spencer investigates the key elements in the story of Alexander that were seen, for the first time, as a Roman story which was constructed and developed during the Roman domination of the Mediterranean world.54 Another important aspect of her study is that, for the first time, she considers the ‘shorter’ and minor Latin passages referring to Alexander alongside longer accounts. Spencer concentrates on literary themes and tries to distinguish cultural readings of the text. In contrast to my research, however, she is not interested in analyzing the different thematic ‘uses’ of Alexander or their philosophical, social, political, and religious functions. Instead, Spencer examines the sources on either ‘thinking about or with Alexander’ or the ‘Roman fascination with Alexander’ – how Romans constructed an image of themselves more or less collectively and subconsciously.55 For my study, Spencer’s Roman Alexander is a work of fundamental importance, since it does not explore the historical
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Alexander but the role of his image in Roman literature and culture.56 Spencer’s other studies concerning the Roman reception of Alexander follow the main lines of her monograph concentrating on certain authors or literary themes or the popularity of Alexander in Roman culture.57 Sulochana Asirvatham studies the reception of Alexander and the ancient Macedonians in the Second Sophistic and in the various versions of the Alexander Romance.58 Her approach, however, also concentrates on the writers’ literary themes and matters of language, and thus not mainly on the ideological uses of Alexander in the Greco-Roman world. As in the case of Spencer, my present study differs from Asirvatham’s studies as it concentrates on the rhetoric behind different portrayals of Alexander, and not only on the Greco-Roman writers of the Early Empire but also on other periods of antiquity.59 There is growing interest in studies on medieval literature concerned with Alexander’s Nachleben. George Cary’s survey, The medieval Alexander (1956), was the first investigation into the large number of different writings dating from Late Antiquity to the late Middle Ages. It took decades for interested scholars to further examine the vast amount of literature concerning Alexander in medieval and Early Modern Europe summarized in Cary’s monograph.60 Richard Stoneman (1994, 2008) has been a pioneer in studying various versions of the Alexander Romance. He has examined how the many Alexander legends were born and transported to the Mediterranean and to the Near Eastern worlds. His viewpoint is that the many legends, based on the Alexander Romance, were told and retold because of the fascinating depiction of Alexander as a Christ-like ‘everyman’.61 A major contribution to research on the Nachleben and reception of Alexander in the age of Enlightenment is Pierre Briant’s The first European – A history of Alexander in the age of empire (2017). In this work, Briant examines images of Alexander created in 18th- and 19th-century literature. While Briant explores European intellectuals’ perceptions of Alexander or their attempts at finding the original Hellenistic sources, he also gives attention to the uses of Alexander in debates on European imperialism, nationalism, and contemporary views of the Ottoman Empire as ‘the Other’. Briant’s approach here is of considerable interest since it places works in their contemporary context, and explores the functions that Alexander the Great had for writers of the Enlightenment period. This is an approach that I also use here in the context of antiquity. Research on Alexander’s Nachleben, and Briant’s study, in particular, concentrate on a period after the figure of Alexander had been used in different ideological contexts for more than 1000 years.62 As noted above, the purpose of my research is to study the function of the literary tradition surrounding his persona in the texts of Classical and post-Classical writers: in other words, I concentrate on the texts which made a serious impact on the way in which the figure of Alexander was reused in the Middle Ages and in the age of Enlightenment. By the time Machiavelli or Montesquieu wrote about Alexander, stories about the Macedonian world conqueror had already been widely used by ancient writers. For this study, research into Alexander’s Nachleben in medieval and Early Modern Europe is a useful reference point since it does not search for the historical
Introduction 15 Alexander but rather focuses on his role in later literature. However, scholars (except Briant) have been more interested in how Alexander was remembered, or in how his legacy lived on through the Middle Ages as a literary theme, than in investigating the actual uses of his image. Scholarship on the use of history has mainly concentrated on the political history of the 20th century. It treats matters such as how certain politicians or regimes utilized history in their official policy and propaganda, and not so much ancient history.63 However, this scholarship is a useful tool for the ancient historian approaching the uses of history in the Roman world since it offers ways to understand the role of history in human culture and societies.64 Margaret MacMillan’s Dangerous games – the uses and abuses of history (2009) approaches the uses and abuses of history from the general perspective of the past and its place in human lives.65 Here, MacMillan deals with the general passion for the past and with how history responds to a variety of human needs. She takes her examples from various events in 20th-century history, from the First World War to the 2003 Iraq War. Most significantly, she explores uses of the past within the context of identity, nationalism, and political rhetoric. The uses of the past in premodern societies have received some attention in previous scholarship, and especially in The uses of the past in the early Middle Ages (2000), edited by Yitzhak Hen and Matthew Innes, and in The uses of history in Early Modern England (2006), edited by Paulina Kewes. Both these works claim both to be the first volumes devoted to the theme and to make a significant contribution to our understanding of the role of the past within early medieval and Early Modern England. These volumes treat the matter across a vast range of sources. Hen and Innes’ volume employs canon law, hagiography, and Carolingian historiography as its sources, whereas the Kewes collection draws from historical dramas, poems, novels, and Church and national histories of 16th- and 17th-century literature. Although they exploit a large amount of evidence, many of the articles reveal important aspects of the ways in which Protestants and Catholics composed different histories of the Reformation and their attitudes towards the contemporary political actors. However, neither of these studies provided an overall picture, or any categorization of the uses of the past and its functions. Instead they concentrate on themes such as the origins of myths, public memory in the early Middle Ages, or the nature of history-writing and other literary categories in Early Modern England. In the field of Classical scholarship, some volumes explore the complex roles the past played in antiquity. Reading the past in Late Antiquity (1990), edited by Graeme Clarke, deals not only with the uses of history in different genres but also with views and models of the past in the writings of Ammianus Marcellinus, John Malalas, and Philostorgius in Late Antiquity. Among the 14 articles, Nixon’s “The use of the past by the Gallic panegyrists” comes closest to my own approach, since it concentrates on how historical exempla were used in the panegyrics of Late Antiquity, which also forms a topic of discussion in this study. Attitudes towards the past in antiquity: Creating identities (2014), edited by Brita Alroth and Charlotte Scheffer, examines texts such as funerary inscriptions
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and literature, but also archaeological remains such as pottery, ranging from prehistory to Late Antiquity. The focus of the articles on the archeological and epigraphic evidence differentiates them from research carried out in this present study. Another recent volume, Valuing the past in the Greco-Roman world (2014), edited by James Ker and Christoph Pieper, examines how the ancient past was valued (or devalued) from 400 BC to AD 100. The volume is based on the analysis of literary evidence. In the introductory chapter, the authors examine the ways in which interest in the past was manifest in the works of authors such as Aulus Gellius and Varro. Amongst these articles, it is Maaike Leemreize’s “The Egyptian past in the Roman past” which comes closest to my research approach. It examines what functions the Egyptian past has in Roman Imperial literature. She distinguishes three functions for the Egyptian past – admiration, emulation, and incorporation – and argues that Roman appropriations of Egyptian monuments were undertaken to confirm Rome’s achievements. In a similar way, I propose to examine the functions and ideological role of the remote past personified by the stories of Alexander. The similarities between my study and the aforementioned collections of essays lie in the fact that all literary genres are studied together in this analysis of the different uses of history and of the role of the past in shaping the present. But, unlike those works, my study offers a systematic analysis of a certain set of sources, while more strictly exploring the ideological uses and functions of the past.66 Even though the concept of the use of history has not been much explored by scholars of Classical literature, some studies on political propaganda, reception, and classical rhetoric and historiography – themes that touch upon using the past generally – do nevertheless exist.67 Classical rhetoric had an effect on the ways in which the past was exploited in Classical and post-Classical literature. Previous scholarship has often approached rhetoric and the theory of rhetoric as two separate phenomena, with research centered on ancient views of the theory of rhetoric. The influence of rhetoric on other literary genres and its cultural significance in Greco-Roman society was long left aside.68 Recently, however, scholars of Classical rhetoric have become increasingly interested in the rhetorical aspects of ancient literature, including historiography, epistolography, philosophical prose, drama, biography, and poetry.69 In these studies, researchers have concentrated on the rhetorical style or the influence of rhetorical theory in a particular genre or on a particular author. However, it is arguable that scholars who often concentrate on the formal or aesthetic parts of Classical literature have not given much attention to the authors’ rhetorical strivings or to the sociopolitical context of the work, although those aims and purposes naturally controlled the ways ancient historians, philosophers, poets, and orators exploited their rhetorical education. Accordingly, my study examines the rhetorical aspects of the texts as a means of persuasion and a strategy for convincing, blaming, and defending. I concentrate on aspects that are often left aside in the study of Classical rhetoric. In other words, I explore how the authors’ goals/intentions (not the theory of rhetoric or their rhetorical techniques) impacted on the ways in which the past was used as an argumentative strategy.
Introduction 17 Another important topic of research related to my study is exemplarity and the exemplum-tradition. According to Classical rhetorical theory, exempla (exemplum, παράδειγμα, τόπος) were recognized as argumentative proofs in oral and literary presentations.70 An exemplum could refer to a mythological or historical figure and his/her famous deeds. In earlier research, interest in studying historical exempla in Roman culture and society focused on its relation to the concept of mos maiorum.71 Accordingly, exempla studies in Classical scholarship have tended to focus on a particular writer or his works, and its exempla are often condensed into catalogue form, so that the question is rarely approached from a wider perspective.72 The historical examples which have been studied are thus treated in a simplified way, by examining the forms of exempla in relation to the theory of rhetoric or by dividing different exempla into positive and negative categories. Nevertheless, some progress on the topic was made in Matthew B. Roller’s article “Exemplarity in Roman culture: The cases of Horatius Cocles and Cloelia” (2004). Roller analyzes Horatius and Cloelia in a discourse of exemplarity.73 Even though he still adheres to divisions, such as whether Horatius’ and Cloelia’s examples were ‘illustrative’ or ‘injunctive’ types of exempla, Roller discusses aspects of Roman historical consciousness and their relation to the production of exemplary discourse.74 In this study, my premise is that exempla should be connected to the wider concept of the use of the past in Classical literary culture and rhetorical argumentation. Accordingly, this study offers a fresh approach to the study of historical exempla, since it does not examine forms or theories of exempla but instead explores how and why ancient writers referred to stories of the past. A number of studies also deal with the role and legacy of Hannibal and Elagabalus in Roman literature. Even though half of Martijn Icks’ monograph, The crimes of Elagabalus – the life and legacy of Rome’s decadent boy emperor (2011), concentrates on ‘what happened’ under Elagabalus, the second half of the book deals with the emperor’s fictional afterlife. Icks’ volume addresses the question of what Elagabalus symbolized and what ideas his figure supported in the literature and art of the 18th and 19th centuries. Claire Stocks’ The Roman Hannibal – Remembering the Enemy in Silius Italicus’ Punica (2014) explores Hannibal’s afterlife in Roman literature, including not only epic but also historiography, biography, oratory, and poetry. Stocks analyzes the different epithets and portraits attributed to the Carthaginian and discusses the emergence of a Roman Hannibal, which she sees as ‘a product of Rome’s continual process of re-evaluation and re-engagement’.75 Stocks admits that the Roman Hannibal is a product of each individual author, but she is more interested in tracing aspects of the Roman Hannibal evident in literature dating after Polybius’ time.76 In her study, Stocks approaches the sources as repetitions and refashionings of Hannibal’s mythical status in the literature of Rome. Both Icks and Stocks offer a welcome approach to the scholarship that often concentrates on seeking to differentiate fact from fiction. The present study shares the same interest in analyzing the status of a historical figure and his use in textual imagery.
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Setting the scene: the anatomy of Alexander’s greatness In 335 BC, when Alexander III was 21 and preparing for his Persian campaign, there were reports of a divine omen. A statue of the poet Orpheus in Pieria was reported as sweating continuously.77 The seer Aristander of Telmessus, formerly the chief seer of Philip II and soon to become Alexander’s favorite interpreter of omens, construed it as a sign of epic victories in the near future: singers of epic tales would have plenty of work composing verses celebrating Alexander’s deeds. The gods had already foreseen the future and now sent a sign that the young king would be renowned among later generations. Regardless of whether this incident actually occurred, Alexander’s campaign undoubtedly aroused anticipation and excitement. However, as Alexander crossed into Asia with his army in spring 334 BC, it is unlikely that anyone was able to predict that the Macedonian army would reach the edge of the known world and that Alexander would become one of the greatest legends and icons in world history. It was to be a stunning achievement, in which Alexander would win unprecedented glory. One could argue that the appeal of Alexander for his contemporaries and subsequent generations was quite simply his unparalleled success, especially when achieved by one so young.78 However, his sudden demise added a vital ingredient to the myth. Few, if anyone, could predict that the young world conqueror, who had already achieved the status of a semidivine figure, would suddenly die at the peak of his success, and that his great empire would fragment into several smaller kingdoms. However, the king’s fame evidently increased as a result of his sudden and tragic death at the age of only 32 years and 8 months. This storyline of a young hero dying at the peak of his success has continued to fascinate storytellers throughout history. Modern popular culture has made no exception: we tend to heroize athletes, actors, and singers whose lives follow the same pattern – success at a young age, death at the peak of their success, and the subsequent achievement of legendary status. In a way the myth of the Macedonian Alexander was a predecessor to the Western archetype of a heroic youth. Even though some Classical authors portray Alexander as an exceptional and talented individual, his success depended mostly on factors he was unable to influence. First, the historical Alexander was born into a family that had prepared the way for success. He was born in 356 BC in the city of Pella as the son of the most successful Argead monarch up to that point, Philip II. Philip had already made the major Greek city-states subject to him. As we know, Alexander inherited from his father both the idea to conquer Achaemenid Persia and the administration and army to run a successful campaign. Philip had created the most efficient army up to that point in the ancient world, with first-class battle-hardened troops and officers of high caliber, which stood Alexander in good stead in his war against Persia.79 In addition, there were no rivals for the throne when Philip died by assassination, since Alexander’s half-brother Arrhidaeus, two years his senior, was mentally ill. So, it was Alexander who, after dealing firmly with revolts in the Balkans and Greece, led his Greco-Macedonian troops in person on a war of conquest in which he repeatedly defeated his enemies. Despite several battlefield
Introduction 19 wounds and conspiracies against his life, he survived to the point where his army refused to go further into the unknown and returned to Persia, only to die there. Alexander’s whole life became a myth. It was not just one battle, not just one heroic deed. From cradle to grave, his life is full of heroic, not to say controversial, events. How did it happen? Besides being successful in war and taking full advantage of the favorable circumstances he was born into, Alexander was presumably aware that his accomplishments needed to be widely celebrated if he was to take full advantage of them. He created his own myth by ensuring that his accomplishments were recorded for posterity. He employed Aristotle’s nephew Callisthenes as his court historian to write down the events of the Persian expedition in a way that cast a favorable light on his actions.80 He also had artists portray him as a semidivine hero equal to Heracles and the heroes of Homeric epic.81 According to one anecdote, which will be discussed in chapter 4, Alexander desired eternal fame, yearning for poets like Homer to write about his deeds. Several anecdotes portray him as a person who really wanted to be remembered and praised by later generations. After his death, Alexander’s contemporaries, like the general and future king, Ptolemy, the architect Aristobulus, the admiral Nearchus, and the philosopher Onesicritus, who knew him personally, immediately idealized the Macedonian conqueror and his persona.82 Evidently, these authors stressed their own part in the grand story when describing the events and the king’s persona. They used history to justify the present they were creating. Sadly, these works are lost and we have no direct access to them. However, they were copied and widely read in the Hellenistic world, thus proclaiming Alexander’s deeds throughout the Mediterranean. In addition, under the Hellenistic monarchies the Ptolemaic, Seleucid, and Antigonid rulers identified themselves with Alexander.83 This is emphasized in the several coins minted by Hellenistic monarchs that have heroic portraits of Alexander as Zeus Ammon bearing the horns of a ram, or wearing a helmet covered by a panther skin, Dionysius’ sacred animal, as well as an elephant’s hide, referring to the king’s legendary Indian campaign. These portraits were spread through commerce and made Alexander known as a superhuman figure and idol throughout the Hellenistic world and beyond. Most important for Alexander’s legacy was its adoption by a new Mediterranean imperial power, Rome. The Romans used and were inspired by Alexander’s story. When Alexander won his battles against Darius in 333 and 331 BC the news undoubtedly spread to Italy. The various peoples dwelling in Italy, including Greeks, Etruscans, Latins (including the Romans), Volsci, Oscans, Samnites, Celts, and Ligures heard tidings that the vast land of Persia had a new Macedonian master. Apulian vases that portray Alexander charging on horseback on the left and Darius standing in his chariot have been dated to c. 330 BC. These are the earliest visual portraits of Alexander’s campaign to survive and it is interesting that they were found on Italian soil.84 As we know, Alexander never went to Italy, but according to one tradition, he was planning to conquer it and other western lands. This tradition may have arisen because his uncle, Alexander I of Epirus, also known as Alexander of Molossus / the Molossian (370–331 BC), was
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campaigning in Italy while the Persian conquest was occurring. Alexander of Molossus went to help the Greek colony of Taras (mod. Tarentum) in their war against the Lucanians and Bruttii. He made a treaty with the Romans but after victorious battles against the Lucanians he died at the battle of Pandosia in 331 BC. Some 50 years later, Alexander’s cousin Pyrrhus of Epirus fought against the Romans themselves. In the aftermath of this war Pyrrhus was forced to leave Italy. In a sense, when the Romans met Pyrrhus on the battlefield, they encountered Alexander’s legacy. Alexander’s imperialism offered the Romans, who promoted martial values, something to identify with. The lesson of Alexander’s successful imperialism for Republican Rome was that empires could be created by great men and glory could be won by great victories over ‘barbarians’. When the Romans conquered Greek city-states and Hellenistic monarchies, they encountered lands where the memory of Alexander was stronger than in Italy, where he never ventured. During the second and first centuries BC, Rome conquered cities like Athens, Corinth, Ilium, Tyre, Sidon, Jerusalem, and Alexandria in Egypt. Alexander had personally visited or even founded these cities, which undoubtedly added to his legacy in the collective memory of them. For example, the inhabitants of Ilium could have told their versions of how the king visited the tomb of Achilles and paid homage to Homeric heroes.85 Also, priests serving in the temple of Athena might have shown the weapons and armor that Alexander left as a votive offering.86 The people of Ilium could say to visitors “Alexander was once here”. When the Romans conquered Egypt, they found a place where Alexander was worshipped both as the founder of the city of Alexandria and the first king of the Ptolemaic dynasty. Inhabitants of Alexandria could even have boasted that “Alexander is here” since his embalmed body was kept in a mausoleum in a sarcophagus that was one the most visited sites in the city. After Octavian’s victory over Antony and Cleopatra’s troops in the naval battle
Figure 1.1 Apulian amphora, ca. 330–320 BC, red-figure pottery from Ruvo in Magna Graecia. It is a detail showing a battle scene between Alexander and Darius. With the permission of the Ministero dei Beni e delle Attività Culturali e del Turismo – Museo Archeologico Nazionale di Napoli.
Introduction 21 of Actium in 31 BC, there was no longer a Ptolemaic dynasty to venerate Alexander as a god of a state cult, but veneration of Alexander’s divine figure did not end. The new rulers of Egypt maintained the positive view of Alexander even though they had removed the Ptolemies. For example, in his speech delivered in Greek after conquering the city of Alexandria, Octavian said that the Romans had decided to spare the city because Alexander was its founder.87 Once Alexander’s memory had become Roman ‘property’, they continued to cherish it. The concept of imitatio Alexandri (imitation of Alexander) loomed large in Roman thinking (and retained its importance even in medieval and Early Modern Europe).88 Just as imitatio Christi became a dominant model for an apostolic way of life after the conversion of the Roman Empire and then Europe, so imitatio Alexandri became a model for Western imperialists. The Roman elite are said to have worshipped Alexander’s persona. This theme of great men venerating, emulating, and measuring themselves against Alexander is recurrent in Greco-Roman literature and reflected genuine historical admiration and the self-image of the rulers and warlords. An important factor in the growing popularity of Alexander imitation in Rome was the political and ideological change when the Republic gave way to one-man rule.89 In contrast to the Republican regime under which the senate and magistrates governed the state, in the last century BC Rome increasingly came under the control of powerful military leaders like Sulla, Pompey, Julius Caesar, Mark Antony, and, ultimately, Octavian, the first emperor. These military leaders saw Alexander as their role model. According to one famous anecdote, after reading the exploits of Alexander (or after seeing the statue of the Macedonian king according to a second version), Julius Caesar burst into tears, overcome by the realization that by his age Alexander had already conquered the Persian Empire, whereas he himself had yet to accomplish anything.90 The anecdote may be unhistorical, but it emphasizes the admiration the Romans had for Alexander.91 Even after he achieved his conquest of Gaul and defeated Pompey, the great Julius Caesar was presented as the successor to a ‘greater’ predecessor, Alexander. Several Roman emperors, including Octavian/Augustus, Caligula, Nero, Trajan, Caracalla, Constantius, and Julian were mentioned in connection with Alexander. Noble Romans, not only emperors but the elite of both the Republican and Imperial eras, are said to have had costumes and objects that belonged to Alexander, or even wore costumes with Alexander’s image. Perhaps these objects were considered talismans.92 In some contexts, this admiration approached ‘Alexander mania’, which existed in various forms throughout the history of the Empire. Pompey used the epithet ‘Great’ and when appearing in public attempted to appear as Alexander did in his images: he is also said to have worn Alexander’s cloak.93 Octavian/Augustus is said to have used a signet ring that had Alexander’s image on it,94 so that both official and private documents had an image associating him with Alexander. Caligula is said to have taken Alexander’s breastplate from his tomb.95 Emperor Caracalla (198–217), sometimes depicted as the greatest ‘fan’ of the Macedonian king, is said to have drunk his wine from goblets (supposedly) used by Alexander and ordered statues and paintings of his hero.96 There are gold
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medallions from Aboukir that have busts of Caracalla carrying a shield depicting Alexander.97 About 150 years after Caracalla’s reign, Emperor Julian (361–363) was also labelled by some authors as obsessed with Alexander.98 Famous Romans are said to have visited Alexander’s monumental tomb (the Sema or Soma) and sarcophagus in Alexandria. There Julius Caesar, Octavian, and Caracalla became emotional in the presence of the corpse of their hero and venerated Alexander’s memory with religious piety.99 Invented or not, such anecdotes related by Roman authors still demonstrate Alexander’s significance in the Roman cultural milieu. In Rome itself, Roman emperors initiated the construction of massive public buildings that showed imitation of Alexander. Augustus’ Mausoleum shares similarities physically, politically, and symbolically with Alexander’s tomb in Alexandria, which presumably inspired him to build his monumental tomb.100 Portraits like the massive Alexander mosaic underline the popularity of Alexander’s heroic exploits and his role as an example for the Roman upper classes.101 It was not only those who saw themselves as conquerors who identified themselves with Alexander. Marcus Tullius Cicero, more of whose works have survived than of any other Classical author, was fascinated by Alexander. In one of his earliest letters to Atticus, Cicero relates his experiences on the frontier near Parthia: “For a few days we were encamped on the very spot which Alexander had occupied against Darius at Issus, a commander not a little superior to either you or me!”102 The site where Alexander had won the battle against Darius made a deep impression on Cicero, even if there is a hint of self-mockery in his comparison with himself and his friend. Some 400 years after Cicero’s visit to the battle site of Issus, the Latin historian Ammianus Marcellinus, probably without a second thought, turned to a comparison with Alexander’s battle against Darius in his account of the battle at Issus in 194, between Pescennius Niger and Septimus Severus’ general Anullinus, after which Pescennius fled from the battlefield only to be killed later.103 It seems that in the Roman world Alexander was ‘known by all’. Even today, Alexander is the first person with the epithet ‘Great’ who comes to mind. The Roman playwright Plautus (c. 254–184 BC), whose works are among the earliest Latin literature to have survived in their entirety, is the first extant author to give Alexander the cognomen ‘Great’. Since almost all Hellenistic literature – which must have made multiple references to Alexander – is lost, we cannot be sure whether the Greeks used this epithet for Alexander. In Plautus’ Mostellaria (The haunted house), the epithet relates to Alexander’s mighty deeds: “They say the great Alexander and Agathocles were a pair that did mighty big things. How about myself, for a third, with the immortal deeds I’m doing, singlehanded?”104 Afterwards, Roman authors of the Empire used this epithet widely, thus accentuating the extraordinary status of Alexander, a status which other monarchs have been unable to attain since.105 In Classical and post-Classical literature, Alexander is sometimes referred to anonymously, called simply ‘great king’, ‘great man’, ‘the bold leader of the Macedonians’, or ‘the Pellean leader’.106 All these terms illustrate the great respect the king enjoyed generally in the Mediterranean world. When a ruler was ‘great’ but
Introduction 23 unnamed, it was taken for granted that the reference was to Alexander. In critical contexts, authors could refer to Alexander as ‘a young man’ (adulescens, iuvenis), or ‘fortunate freebooter’ ( felix praedo).107 In all these instances, authors assume that the various epithets and ‘nicknames’ of Alexander were widely known to their audience. Since everybody already knows the name ‘Alexander’, the authors choose to use well-known epithets and nicknames for Alexander as rhetorical tools to underline his characteristics. Because Roman writers turned to Alexander’s persona and deeds repeatedly, his name and deeds became so familiar that his story and fame survived even the collapse of their empire.
Notes 1 For studies of Stone’s film and its reception, see Baynham 2009b; Cartledge 2010. For a study of Alexander in heavy metal, see Djurslev 2015. 2 Jaikumar 2006, 206, 215. The recent Indian TV series Porus (2017) uses the Macedonian conqueror to represent a foreign invader who fights heroic Indians (represented by Porus), a theme that suits contemporary Indian nationalism. 3 For a good introduction to recent controversies, see Danforth 2010, 572–598. See also Danforth 1995. In June 2018, Macedonia and Greece signed an agreement to change the country name to “Republic of North Macedonia” if a national referendum and legislation there were to be successful: if the name is changed in this way, it amounts to an agreement to share the legacy. 4 For a detailed survey of Alexander’s significance in British imperialism in Afghanistan and India, see Hagerman 2009. For a discussion of Alexander’s reception in 15th- and 16th-century Portugal and Spain, see Barleta 2010. 5 The Latin dictum comes from Cic. De Or. 2.36. The idea itself already existed in Greek historiography, as in the work of the Greek historian Polybius. 6 For this change as a part of modernization, see Koselleck 2004. 7 An example of this kind of approach is Schäfer 2007, which concentrates on extracting useful knowledge from history through ‘real-world experiments’ and ‘natural experiments’. 8 Diamond 2005, 3. 9 For a discussion of public and popular histories, see Kalela 2011, 63–70; De Groot 2012. 10 Cf. Tac. Ag. 1. Ferrario 2014 offers a survey of the development of the individual in Greek thought, which she traces back to fifth-century Athens. The significance of Miltiades, Callimachus, and Themistocles was already stressed in the Athenian past, but the culmination of the “great man” concept was the idealization of Alexander the Great. 11 For studies of the importance of such religious figures, see, for example, Ziolkowski 2016 on the uses of Moses. 12 Alexander’s contemporaries wrote many works on his career which have not survived (Plut. Alex. 46.1). After Alexander, people were already seeing his conquests as a watershed, the world as pre- and post-Alexander. For a detailed discussion on Alexander’s fame, see esp. Braudy 1986, 32–51. 13 In this study, the concept of identity refers to the fashioning of a collective sense of self, especially by creating divisions between us and the other, and writing about the past in a way that forms groups and constructs identities. This identity formation is to be seen as an ongoing process which uses multiple expressions and ways to construct cultural, national, or group identities. Cf. Gruen 2011, 1–2. For the construction of cultural identities in the ancient world, see Gruen 2011 and Huskinson
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16 17 18
19
20 21
22 23
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Introduction 2000. Cartledge 2002 discusses identity-making among the Greeks, and Dench 2005 concentrates on Roman identity construction. In previous scholarship, the concept of ‘using history/the past’ appears in the context of the “Why history?” question: why history as a discipline should be studied and taught in modern academia. For an illustration of this approach, see Stricker 1992. In the area of environmental history, some studies focus on how environmental histories should be used for understanding and managing ecosystems, see esp. Jameson 1959; Swetnam and Allen 1999. Stone 2014 proposes that from the 14th century onwards, attempts to establish the true history of Alexander became more prevalent, and that writers therefore attempted to follow more reliable sources than the traditions of the Alexander Romance when writing about him. Briant 2017 shows that the search for the historical Alexander was a preoccupation in 18th-century Europe. Briant’s massive analysis questions the view that the German historian Johann Gustav Droysen’s (1808–1884) Geschichte Alexanders des Grossen (1833) was the first serious attempt to trace the historical Alexander, pointing out that before Droysen there were several attempts by Enlightenment intellectuals to write ‘truthful’ accounts of Alexander’s reign. As an example, Briant mentions Baron de Saint Croix’s (1746–1809) work Examen critique des anciens historiens d’Alexandre le Grand (1775). Except Diana Spencer’s Roman Alexander and the articles written by Sulochana Asirvatham. See below on pages 13–14. See my discussion of the earlier research on Alexander below. For studies of a particular genre, see Stowers 1986; Mossman 2006; Foles 2005. It should be remembered that classifying ancient works according to our definitions of literary genres is problematic, since ancient writers would have used different classifications. For example, the ancient genre of historiography differs significantly from modern history-writing. Fox 2007, 378–379. The earliest datable Greek version of the Romance comes from the third or fourth century AD. The Jewish gamma recension version of the Greek Alexander Romance differs most radically from other versions. In addition, there is a Latin translation of the Greek version (fourth century AD) and an Armenian version (fifth century AD). For different versions of the Alexander Romance, see Stoneman 1991, 28–32; 2008, 231–245. On pages 219–220, I briefly discuss the circulation of the stories of Alexander appearing in the Romance. Hor. Ars P. 1.333–334. The famous Athenian orator Demosthenes (384–322 BC) and Isocrates belong to the group of rare contemporary writers whose short Alexander references have survived. Among later Hellenistic writers, Polybius has a couple of short passages concerning Alexander, but, as we know, the vast majority of the Hellenistic material did not survive to our modern era. For Polybius’ passages concerning Alexander histories, see esp. Billows 2000. Kennedy 1994, 3. Arthur Danto’s idea that ‘History tells stories’ is important. This anti-Annalistes’ (like Paul Ricouer) approach was examined later by Hayden White 1973; 1987, who argued that history-writing is largely about writing narratives and therefore belongs more to a genre of literature and rhetoric than science. The debate about history itself, whether history-writing is to be considered as fiction or as rhetoric, would probably seem odd to the ancients, since they would not have recognized our distinctions. Cf. Cic. Leg. 1.5. Cicero, for instance, defines writing history as opus oratorium (rhetorical work). Cf. Bowersock 1994, 12. For the theory of reception in the context of the Classical world, see esp. Martindale & Thomas 2006; Hardwick & Stray 2011; Kallendorf 2011. A major contribution to Classical reception studies is The Classical Tradition encyclopedia, Grafton, Most, and Settis 2010. Sometimes reception is replaced by concepts of ‘tradition’ or ‘heritage’, cf. Goldhill 2002, 297 and Hall 2004, 51–89.
Introduction 25 25 26 27 28 29 30
31 32 33 34
35
36
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38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46
Martindale 2006, 19. Skinner 1975, 212. Cf. Clark 2004, 138. Skinner 1975, 212. Ibid. 140. Pocock 1987, 24–25. Eley 1990, 77–78; Spiegel 1990, 77–78. See also Clark 2004, 162–163. In the Classical world, oral culture was strong. Works of literature like historiography were meant for public reading, in which a heterogeneous public could participate. A small percentage of the population, those who had received regular grammatical and rhetorical education, could also read historiography. Historical works were never school books in the modern sense. Nicolai 2007, 23. Innes 2000, 4. Cf. Plut. Alex. 46.1. For the lost histories of Alexander the Great, see Pearson 1960; Zambrini 2007. The fragments of the early Alexander historians, collected from the texts of later Roman authors, are included in Die Fragmente der Griechischen Historiker edited by F. Jacoby. Many of the fragments are translated in Robinson 1953. The tendency to search out the words of contemporary writers is attested by the way in which Alexander scholars sometimes refer directly to these Hellenistic writers and their signs in Jacoby. There are a great number of studies dealing with certain episodes of the king’s life, the literary sources, and their reliability. Here, I give only a few of the most important studies. Tarn 1948; Briant 1974; Lauffer 1978; Hammond 1981; Bosworth 1988a; 1988b; Heckel 2008; Badian 2013. For the commentaries, see esp. Hamilton 1969 (commentary on Plutarch’s Alexander); Bosworth 1980; 1995 (commentary on Arrian’s Anabasis in two volumes); Atkinson 1980; 1994; 2009 (commentary on Curtius in three volumes); Yardley & Heckel 1997 (commentary on Justin’s Epitome of Pompeius Trogus). The theory concerning the ‘vulgate’ authors was first made developed by E. Schwartz and F. Jacoby. It was famously criticized by Tarn 1948, who considered it as oversimplifying and not paying attention to the existing differences in the three authors’ works. Later, Goukowsky and Atkinson showed that Cleitarchus was not the ‘only’ source for Diodorus and Curtius, but that these two writers composed their narratives based on several previous works. It was thought that Ptolemy had access to Alexander’s royal archives kept in Alexandria, and that therefore his contemporary work contained the most reliable material. Pearson 1954 first rejected this idea, arguing that even if the ephemerides were accepted as authentic, their information would have contained only the last events of Alexander’s career, and that there never were any diary-like notes concerning the whole expedition that were used by Ptolemy. Hamilton 1983, 1–3. For the critique of Arrian by Bosworth, see esp. Bosworth 1976. Interestingly, Bosworth admits in a later article that he might have underestimated Arrian as an uncritical enthusiast for Alexander. See Bosworth 2007, 452. Cf. Mossé 2004, 200; Heckel 2008, 10–12; Nawotka 2010, x. Recently Bowden 2014a, 5, writes that despite decades of research, we still have no reliable method for determining which accounts can be trusted. For Philip II, see Worthington 2008, 2014. For Olympias and Macedonian women at the court, see Carney 2000, 2006. For the Macedonian background, see Thomas 2006. See esp. Thomas 2007; Nawotka 2010; Rollinger 2013; Müller 2014. Bowden 2014a, 5–9. For the lack of the Near Eastern context in recent books about Alexander, see Bowden 2014b, 136–148. Davidson 2001, 7. Beard 2011, 37. For example, in the studies mentioned in note 35. Cf. Bowden’s 2013 article on proskynesis and Alexander, in which the contemporary concerns are briefly referred to but dealt with only cursorily (Bowden 2013, 76). In
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48 49 50
51
52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59
60
61 62 63
Introduction his biography, Nawotka 2010 at times refers to the different anecdotes, but his interest is in offering a reliable picture of the historical Alexander. For a rare treatment of Alexander in the literature of Late Antiquity, see Döpp 1999. However, this descriptive article is a short survey on the topic and does not contain all the relevant passages. See also Stoneman 2004, who introduces some texts concerning Alexander (like the Itinerarium Alexandri) written in Late Antiquity. Hamilton 1969, lx – lxi; Stewart 1993, 14–15. Badian 1958, 144–147. In Spencer 2006, 90, it is expressed directly: “There was no consistent tradition of Stoic hostility to Alexander.” Cf. Stoneman 2003, 328–329, 336; Burliga 2013, 58–62 convincingly argues against the common hostile Peripatetic or Stoic view of Alexander, and suggests that instead we should mostly see the passages of Alexander as a mechanically assembled collection of exempla. For the approach of naming the different literary presentations of Alexander ‘views’ see, for example, Bosworth 1996, 2–5. Cf. Ceauşescu 1974, 168; Isager 1992, 75; Mossé 2004, 167–177. Mossé’s work was first published 2001(translated into English as Alexander: Destiny and myth in 2004). Briant 2015 likewise focuses as much on images of Alexander as on those of Darius III, even though Briant explores what we can know about the historical Darius, too. Ceauşescu 1974, 155 distinguished between Alexander’s admirers/imitators and the hostile tradition of the senatorial circles. Isager 1992, 82–83 refers to Seneca’s use of Alexander as a literary paragon. Stewart 1993, 9. Spencer 2002, xiv – xv. Cf. Spencer 2006, 96. Spencer 2002, xvi – xvii. See esp. Spencer 2006; 2009; 2010. For the Roman reception of Alexander, see also Baynham 2009, which is more like a catalogue of some of the Roman Latin historians who wrote about Alexander. See esp. Asirvatham 2008; 2010a; 2010b; 2013; 2014. A few articles also either deal with exempla of Alexander presented by individual Roman authors or with episodes connected with Alexander and their afterlife in Classical literature. For this kind of research, see Wardle 2005; Bosman 2007; Bellemore 2015. Unfortunately, I have not been able to include in my analysis research published after early 2018. Thus, even though I am aware of the publication of Brill’s Companion to the Reception of Alexander the Great (2018, edited by Kenneth Moore) and Christian Djurslev’s Alexander the Great in the Early Christian Tradition (2018), their insights are not considered here. Brill’s Companion to Alexander Literature in the Middle Ages (2011) and Brepols’ Alexander redivivus series are recently published volumes on Alexander the Great in the field of medieval and Early Modern European literature. Brill’s Companion treats Alexander’s legacy in world literature, including articles on medieval texts in Syriac, Persian, Coptic, Arabic, Ethiopic, and Hebrew, alongside the European languages. Noteworthy is these articles’ treatment of Alexander literature: they undertake text criticism, and study literary themes, style, and language, and do not exclusively concentrate on the ideological and rhetorical uses of the king’s personae. Brepols’ Alexander redivivus series contains several volumes investigating the history and legend of Alexander’s reception. The volumes, edited mainly by Gaullier-Bougassas, are written chiefly by French scholars. For another study of Alexander in the medieval world, see also Stock 2016. For Alexander in French literature, see also Maddox & SturmMaddox 2002. For Alexander in medieval and Early Modern England, see Stone 2014. Stoneman 2008, 227–229. For other surveys of Alexander’s Nachleben, see also Hageman 2009; Barletta 2010. Sometimes the concept of “use of history/past” appears in the context of the “Why history?” question. Cf. n. 12 above.
Introduction 27 64 Black 2005; MacMillan 2009; Blåfield 2016. Ferro 1981 explored how nation states and different sociopolitical groups have controlled the official image of their common past to legitimize power and authority, and to pursue their nationalistic goals and ideologies. Niggemann & Ruffing 2011 deals with the way in which the Classical past was exploited as a model and reference point in the context of the 18th and 19th centuries. 65 MacMillan 2009, xi. 66 For the perception of the past in medieval literature, see also McKitterick 2000; Goetz 2007. 67 Clarke 1990 and Ker 2014 above being rare exceptions. 68 John Dugan, in his article “Modern critical approaches to Roman rhetoric”, called the famous works of Kennedy and Lausberg old-fashioned and stated that the tendency to downplay the impact of rhetoric on all literature has long dominated Classical scholarship. Dugan 2007, 11, 16. 69 See Porter 1997, in which different genres are handled in separate articles. 70 Ancient rhetoricians in their textbooks defined examples and prescribed many rules for their use, see Arist. Rhet. 356b.1–35, 2.1393a.1 – b.30; Rhet. ad Her. 2.29.46, 4.49.62; Cic. Inv. 1.30.49, De or. 2.169; Quint. Inst. 5.11. 71 Cf. Blom 2010, 15–16. 72 There are several articles on the use of exempla in the writings of some Classical or post-Classical writers, or in a single Classical work. For research on exempla, see Carlson 1948; Lawall 1958; Stem 2007; Mayer 2008. For monographs on the topic, see Bloomer 1992; Chaplin 2000; Roller 2018. For studies of exempla concerning Alexander, see n. 59. 73 Roller 2004, 9–10. Most recently, see Roller 2018. 74 Cf. Ibid. 52. 75 Stocks 2014, 9. 76 Cf. Ibid. 22. 77 Arr. an. 1.11.2. The anecdote appears also in the Alexander Romance, see Alex. Rom. 1.42. 78 Cf. Polyb. 8.10; Liv. 8.3. 79 For Philip’s military reforms, see Worthington 2008, 11–12, 26–32; Anson 2013, 44–52. In recent years scholars have paid more attention to Philip’s accomplishments and how he made it possible for Alexander to conquer Persia. Cf. Worthington 2008, 1–5; Carney & Ogden 2010. For a comparison between the accomplishments of Alexander and Philip, see Worthington 2008, 204–208; Gabriel 2010. 80 For the work of Callisthenes, see Pearson 1960, 22–49; Cartledge 2004, 247–249. 81 Mihalopoulos 2009, 275–293 discusses Alexander as the first ruler in the Greek world to understand and exploit the propaganda value of official portraits. For a detailed discussion on Alexander’s medallions, see Holt 2003. 82 Pearson 1960 is still the most detailed monograph on Alexander writers in the early Hellenistic period. For a more recent and shorter survey, see Zambrini 2007. 83 For the myth of Alexander and its evolution in the policy of the Hellenistic kings especially, see Goukowsky 1978/1981. For a study of the representations of Alexander in Hellenistic coinage, see Dahmen 2007. 84 Stewart 1993, 47–48, 150–157. 85 For the literary tradition of the visit, see Plut. Alex. 15.7–9; Arr. an. 1.12.1; Diod. Sic. 17.17.5; Just. Epit. 11.5.12. 86 Arr. an. 1.11.7–8. Cf. Arr. an. 6.9.3. 87 Cass. Dio. 51.16.4. 88 The role of Alexander in Roman politics and political imitatio Alexandri in the Late Republic and Early Empire has been studied by Weippert 1972; Hannestad 1992; Isager 1992; Spencer 2002, 15–31; Kuhne 2008. 89 This is already stated by Spencer 2002, 29.
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90 Suet. Iul. 7.1; Plut. Caes. 11.5–6. 91 Weippert 1972, 108; Green 1978, 195 sees the anecdote as unhistorical. 92 The Roman Macriani family is said always to have had images of Alexander on their rings and bracelets. Hist. Aug. Tyr. Trig. 14.2–6. John Chrysostom criticized the way people used images of Alexander on coins as talismans, which he saw as an expression of idolatry. Cf. John Chrys. Cat. ad Ilium 2.5. 93 Plin. HN 7.26, 95; Plut. Pomp. 2.1, 13.3–6. For Pompey wearing a cloak believed to have belonged to Alexander, see App. Mith. 117. For a discussion of Pompey’s Alexander-imitation, see Michel 1967, 35–66; Spencer 2009, 253–256. 94 Plin. HN 37.10; Suet. Aug. 50. 95 Suet. Aug. 52. Cf. Cass. Dio. 59.17.3. Malloch argues that Caligula imitated Alexander when he started to plan to build a bridge at Baiae. Malloch 2001, 215–216. 96 Cass. Dio. 78.7.4–8.4; Hdn. 4.8.1. Cf. HA 2.1. For a discussion of Caracalla’s imitation of Alexander, see Baharal 1994, 524–567; Carlsen 2016, 316, 324–328. 97 Dahmen 2007, 34–35. 98 For Julian’s imitation of Alexander, see Barnes 1912; Athanassiadi 1992, 192–193, 224–225; Tougher 2007, 65. For a moderate opinion of Julian’s ‘limited admiration of Alexander’, see Lane Fox, 1997, 252 and Smith 2011, 101–102. 99 For Julius Caesar’s visit to the tomb, see Luc. 10.10–45. For Octavian’s visit, see Suet. Aug. 18.1; Cass. Dio. 51.16.5. For Caracalla’s visit, see Hdn. 4.8.9. 100 Rehak 2006, 50–51. 101 For a detailed study of the mosaic, see Cohen 2000. 102 Trans. Evelyn Shuckburgh. Cic. Att. 5.20: Castra paucos dies habuimus ea ipsa quae contra Darium habuerat apud Issum Alexander, imperator haud paulo melior quam aut tu aut ego. 103 Ammian. Marc. 26.8.15. 104 Trans. Paul Nixon. Plaut. Mostell. 775: Alexandrum magnum atque Agathoclem aiunt maximas duo res gessisse: quid mihi fiet tertio, qui solus facio facinora immortalia? 105 Alexander is called Alexander the Great (Alexander magnus) in Roman literature: see, for example, Plin. HN 14.7; Itin. Alex. 4.9; Pan. Lat. 10.10.2–6. 106 For Alexander referred to as ‘great king’, ‘great man’, ‘great Macedonian king’, or ‘the Pellean leader’, see Philo Op. 4.17; Tert. De pall. 4.6.3; Symm. Ep. 1.20; Pan. Lat. 6.17.1; Ennod. Pan. Theod. 17.79. 107 For Alexander referred to as ‘a young man’ (adulescens, iuvenis), see Sen. Ben. 1.13.3; Juv. 10.169–170; Arn. Adv. nat. 1.5.5. For Alexander as the ‘the mad son of Macedonian Philip’ ( proles vesana) and a ‘fortunate freebooter’ ( felix praedo), see Luc. 10.25.
2
Alexander in an empire of Romans, Greeks, and Jews
In this chapter we consider the use of Alexander in the political rhetoric of ancient historians and orators from the Early Empire to Late Antiquity. The Roman Empire was a multicultural entity where people adopted different identities depending on their ethnic and cultural backgrounds. The Latin-speaking population and the Romanized upper classes of the Western empire had a different background from the Greeks who lived under the Roman regime. The Jewish minority had its own culture and traditions. During the centuries of Imperial rule, a common Roman identity also developed and became stronger, uniting the population, especially the elite, under the Imperial regime. In this chapter I scrutinize how and why writers representing different ethnic and cultural backgrounds praised, defended, attacked, or explained the contemporaneous state of affairs and promoted certain political agendas in their portrayals of Alexander. I pay special attention to the ways in which the historical context influenced their representations of the famed Macedonian king. By dividing authors into the categories of Roman Latin, Greek, or Jewish and belonging to the Early or Later Empire, we can observe how Alexander’s portrayal varied. Can we in fact speak of ‘Roman Latin’, ‘Roman Greek’, or ‘Jewish’ Alexanders, or the creation of self-definitions of ‘us’ and ‘others’ in the Alexander texts of different ethnic and cultural groups and identities? The chapter concludes with an analysis of the political functions and messages that were conveyed through the use of the Macedonian king and the ways in which his image remained similar or was redefined in Late Antiquity. The first and the second subchapters deal with texts written by the Roman Latin writers of the Early Empire. These two subchapters focus on a Roman patriotic self-fashioning that both defended and promoted power structures in the early Principate and the values of the Roman senatorial class. The task of the third subchapter is to study the representations of Alexander that the Roman Greek writers of the Early Empire constructed. By doing this, I reveal the different functions that the portraits of the king had. The fourth subchapter concentrates on Jewish writers and their political argumentation. In what ways did their presentations of Alexander change according to the different sociopolitical conditions under which they lived and wrote? The last subchapter deals with the writers of the Later Empire and examines prose panegyrics and the functions of Alexander in the political rhetoric of the fourth century. In this subchapter, I show the popularity of
30 Alexander in an empire of Romans, Greeks, and Jews Alexander as a historical exemplum and a legendary figure during the Dominate, and the ways that current sociopolitical realities and Imperial propaganda had an impact on the uses of his image. Questions of historical exempla as providers of philosophical and ethical lessons, their use as a strategy of self-promotion among the Roman upper classes and the role of Alexander in constructing cultural and religious identities, including in Christian rhetoric, are handled in subsequent chapters.
Proclaiming Roman supremacy In this section, I study Latin texts of the Early Imperial period in which the writer compares Alexander to his Roman counterparts to analyze how each comparison created patriotic and cultural definitions of ‘us’ and ‘others’. I suggest that the images of the Macedonian king, Roman warlords, and the Roman Republican past can be explained by the rhetorical aims of the writers and the sociopolitical context in which they wrote. Scholars have investigated historical comparison (comparatio), imitation (imitatio), and emulation (aemulatio) of Alexander in the cases of famous Roman statesmen and emperors, whether there has been actual imitation and emulation or not.1 Diana Spencer claims that attempting to isolate comparatio and imitatio as separate strands is a thankless and uninteresting task.2 However, one can, and should, separate passages that contain comparisons between Alexander and his counterpart from those passages that describe certain Romans as imitating Alexander, since the former seem to be created by the writers themselves while the latter belong more to the common tradition, or even reflect real historical imitation.3 By studying different comparationes, we can attempt to identify a particular rhetorical strategy and political messages. My hypothesis, given what we know of the methods of writers in the Roman era, is that with the help of the comparatio, writers did not primarily intend to argue why certain Roman statesmen were greater than Alexander, but constructed patriotic presentations of the Romans and their superiority. If this is the case, these texts should not be regarded primarily as Roman ‘views of Alexander’ but as rhetorical proclamations of the Roman constitutional, military, moral, and social supremacy. In the theory of rhetoric, comparison was one way to persuade or motivate the listener to undertake a desired action. The writer or speaker developed his argumentation with the help of comparatio. Two subjects were compared and a judgment was made as to which one was superior to the other.4 The purpose of the comparison was therefore to further the orator’s rhetorical aims: in other words, comparisons served to transmit the message of the oral or literary rhetorical presentation. In the passages under scrutiny here, the presentations of Alexander and his Roman counterpart should always be regarded as the writers’ own composition. The comparison itself and any ‘historical’ detail included in it is subordinated to the author’s rhetorical themes and is made to support his line of argumentation. In the Classical and Hellenistic periods, Greek teachers of rhetoric and biographers compared Greek leaders to Persian kings. When Greece and Rome came
Alexander in an empire of Romans, Greeks, and Jews 31 into contact, the need to make more comparisons became acute for writers in both Greek and Latin.5 Naturally, Alexander, as the great king and conqueror of the Eastern Mediterranean world, inspired writers to compare him to leading Roman figures. Nevertheless, of primary importance was Alexander’s use as a point of reference that their audience was familiar with. For this study, it is essential to understand why and how authors used Alexander in each case. I look at these aspects by analyzing three texts of the Early Empire, in which Latin historians compare Alexander to Roman political figures. As far as we know, the first Roman writer to compare Alexander to the Romans was Livy. Livy’s so-called ‘Alexander digression’ takes place in the ninth book of The History of Rome, in which he deals with the events of the Second Samnite War.6 First, Livy praises the Roman general and hero Papirius Cursor’s qualities and his efforts for the Roman state (res Romana), and remarks that many people regard him as a man who might have matched Alexander in generalship.7 After this comment, Livy asks: What would have happened if Alexander had invaded Rome at that time? In the previous lines, Livy has tried to convince his audience that he had often silently pondered the result of that war.8 Livy answers: Even as against other princes and nations, so also against this one the might of Rome would have proved invincible.9 In scholarship, this text has sometimes been considered a reaction to the claims raised by some anti-Roman Greeks.10 On the other hand, Mahé-Simon has argued that Livy found Alexander-comparisons in his sources, which stimulated him to construct his own comparison, included in The History of Rome.11 However, of greatest importance are not the possible accusations made by some Greeks, or previous comparisons between Alexander and Rome, or Livy’s long held private interest in the issue, but the message he intends to convey through the comparison. In the passage, Livy intentionally picks up on and presents the historical tradition in a way that suits his rhetorical aims. At the beginning of the comparison, he admits that Alexander was a great warlord (egregius dux) and gives a list of the consuls who might have fought against the king at that time. According to Livy, all those consuls would have shown courage and skill even though Alexander might have been more skillful in choosing the right battle site and in military training generally.12 The comparison deliberately uses information we know from other writers. In addition, we recognize the old Greek stereotypes of Medes and Persians as effeminate and physically weak soldiers corrupted by luxury.13 As proof of the statement that the Persians were not a great threat to the Macedonians, Livy describes Darius’ army as a group of women, eunuchs, gold and purple, but not of real soldiers.14 Livy probably used existing accounts stating that Darius had his family, mother, and daughters with him at the battle of Issus.15 This allows him to belittle Darius’ army and to describe it as ‘booty’ for the Greeks, rather than present it as a dangerous enemy.16 Livy notes that Alexander would have faced harsher conditions in Italy than India, where he was able to travel in a drunken parade with an
32 Alexander in an empire of Romans, Greeks, and Jews intoxicated army. Here, Livy seems to be referring to the story that Alexander and his troops took part in Dionysian banquets in Nysia. He uses the tradition to indicate that the Indian resistance could not have been strong.17 He intentionally omits to mention the fierce fighters of Porus, or the resistance Alexander faced from the Indian tribe of the Malli, or the difficulties Alexander faced in the Gedrosian desert. In the same context, Livy reminds his readers of what happened to Alexander’s uncle, the king of Epirus – Alexander Molossus. The king died on Italian soil.18 Livy notes that Alexander traversed the passes of Apulia and the mountains of Lucania – in other words, roadless places – where he was defeated. Again, Livy is picking examples from history to make clear how tough a resistance Rome would have offered Alexander’s invading armies and how difficult Italy would have been to campaign in. In addition, we are told that if Alexander had invaded Rome after his campaign in the East, by then he would have been influenced by oriental ways. Alexander would then have been like Darius – in other words, an Eastern despot fond of drink and susceptible to sudden anger.19 Alexander’s reputation as a general and his military achievements are belittled in the Livy passage. This is part of Livy’s rhetoric of Roman constitutional and military grandeur. This becomes evident when Livy extends his historical treatment and starts to compare the totality of the accomplishments of Alexander and Rome. An idealized Republican past answers the requirements of the present and future in Livy’s patriotic analysis. Livy reminds his audience that Alexander’s accomplishments lasted only ten years but that Rome had so far achieved military success for 400 years.20 Even if Rome lost some battles (proelium), it never lost a war (bellum).21 The Macedonians had only one Alexander, while the Romans had produced several Alexanders who were capable of the same magnificent achievements as the Macedonian conqueror and proved it by their successes. If the Macedonians had lost their king – which was a possibility since the king deliberately exposed himself to all sorts of dangers – the state’s existence would have been at risk. In contrast, the ‘Roman Alexanders’ fulfilled their destiny without endangering the state.22 Rome’s governmental system is superior to the Macedonians’, as shown by its continuity: in other words, the Roman political order is constitutionally superiority to the traditional monarchies of the surrounding peoples. In addition to the governmental system, Livy tries to convince his audience of the superiority and efficiency of the Roman army. In the comparison, Livy enumerates the number and the qualities of the Roman troops.23 Whatever reasons Livy presents, the basis of his ‘reasoning’ is patriotic fervor – Roman armies were superior to Macedonian ones and Roman weapons were much better than the ones Alexander’s men carried. Livy uses the tradition that Alexander recruited foreign Persian and Indian troops for his army.24 According to Livy, these poor troops would likely have been a burden to Alexander rather than a help in Italy. When it comes to weaponry, Macedonian round shields and long spears are not comparable to the Roman large shields and swords. The passage ends with a eulogy of the Roman soldier and his endurance. Livy asks who can withstand fatigue and perform hard work better than the Roman soldier.
Alexander in an empire of Romans, Greeks, and Jews 33 Livy’s treatment of the Roman army was not just about comparing the army and its leader’s qualities to Alexander’s army, but it was implicitly referring to Rome’s enemies in the Augustan era. Can the Roman army respond to any threat to its superior position by its frontier enemies? In the passage Livy mentions that ‘the silliest of the Greeks’ (levissimi ex Graecis) had exalted the reputation of the Parthians.25 Implicitly, Livy is saying that the Roman army will beat its Eastern enemy, the Parthian Empire, which did not pose a serious threat in his time. Depicting Alexander, the famous subjugator of the Persian Empire (the native dynastic predecessor of the Parthian Empire) as inferior to the Romans in military terms guarantees Roman military superiority in the present. Alexander and his Macedonians’ inferiority to the Roman army becomes obvious if related to the contemporary Roman – Parthian rivalry. Livy’s counterfactual history supports the identity-building image of the Romans as a military race superior to other nations in both the past and the present. It is about offering an idealized picture of the Romans’ previous achievements and depicting their success as a long and continuous process. Livy returns to the original setting and notes that only one single battle would have destroyed Alexander but that Romans could achieve victory even when they lost a battle. He then refers to the heavy Roman defeats at the Caudine Forks and Cannae, and notes that these losses did not change the final result of the wars during which those battles were fought. The Punic Wars alone lasted longer than Alexander’s lifetime. Since Alexander never met the Romans on the battlefield in the fourth century BC, Livy’s purpose in making his comparison was probably not to ‘prove’ that Roman arms were superior to Alexander’s, which he could never do definitively, but primarily to use this and the Republican past in general to praise the Rome of his day, the Roman Empire of Augustus.26 Livy’s treatment of Alexander is one way of illuminating Roman superiority in both governmental and military matters and of reminding his audience of the elements that maintain Roman supremacy. Why was this patriotic presentation important? According to Jane Chaplin, the purpose of exempla in The History of Rome can be described in a way that helps our understanding of Livy’s Alexander digression: They were not only a sophisticated vehicle for creating political stability and for ordering a complicated history, but also a reassuring reminder that all was not lost and that the interpretation of that complex past could lead to a more secure future.27 The lessons of the past were applied to the present and they could serve as models for the future. Livy’s work was about making an idealized presentation of the past that would strengthen Roman cultural identity. Livy’s patriotic intent appears evident in his choice of words. In the last passage of the digression, Livy writes from the perspective of ‘we’. In the narrative, he uses expressions such as ‘we remember’ (recordamur), or ‘we live’ (vivimus).28 Such expressions built a sense of collective Roman identity, healing the wounds of a long civil war and
34 Alexander in an empire of Romans, Greeks, and Jews unifying the Empire. The patriotic message was clear: we Romans were, and still are, better than Alexander the Great. Therefore, in the future, we will crush all our Alexander-like opponents. In the aftermath of a long and destructive civil war, Livy perhaps felt it fitting to remind and convince his readers of the greatness of the Roman Empire. This also suited Augustus’ official message that he was the restorer of Republican glory. In the last lines of the passage, Livy reassures the reader that there is no danger of any enemy shaking the superiority of the Roman Empire. The relationship between Livy and Emperor Augustus has been debated among scholars. Was Livy working independently or did Augustus direct his literary program, just as he directed his public building projects in the Forum, which promoted images of the Roman distant and recent past?29 At any rate, when Livy wrote his digression he may have been aware of Augustus’ official policy. Livy offered a positive depiction of the Augustan Empire and the Republic, and his digression on them could be regarded as intentionally idealized, with a didactic aim. Here I disagree with Morello, who claimed that the digression was a manifestation of Livy’s disapproval of Augustus’ governmental system.30 At the same time, we should remember that it would be simplistic to consider Livy a mere propagandist for Augustus. An important political message in Livy is that Rome will defeat all its enemies even if they are stronger than Alexander and his troops. The most important thing, and the only prerequisite, is that the peace that Augustus restored continues. Livy speaks of the consensus (concordia) and of “our present love for domestic peace” and its necessity.31 In Augustus’ propaganda, Concordia played an important role, that of pardoning and showing mercy.32 Livy’s statements were probably in support of this policy. Cicero, who belonged to the previous generation, stated that if Rome stayed faithful to its institutions and customs, the empire would assuredly be eternal.33 Livy was therefore repeating ideas that the Roman upper classes of the period shared, even if many must have been aware that Augustus’ form of government was not quite the old Republic. Previous scholarship has recognized some of the ideological elements that are attested in the comparison between Rome and Alexander’s Macedon, although interest has also been given to the literary structure and themes of the digression. Ruth Morello describes the passage as “a eulogizing survey of republican tradition.”34 Tim Whitmarsh states, “The shrill tone of Livy’s denunciation bespeaks his anxiety to protect Rome’s status as the ultimate world empire.”35 I agree with these characterizations. However, we have to remember that Livy was not just declaring to his audience that Alexander would have lost an imagined war against Rome but also offering a patriotic interpretation about the supremacy of the Roman Empire. While Livy’s Alexander comparison served to promote Roman military and governmental superiority, Velleius Paterculus’ and Tacitus’ works served to enhance the superiority of Roman morals and traditions. Velleius Paterculus’ prose work History of Rome36 was written a couple of decades after Livy’s work, probably in 25–30.37 Velleius deals with the transition from the Republic to the Principate,
Alexander in an empire of Romans, Greeks, and Jews 35 and he depicts this as a time of continuity rather than radical or negative change. All positive things in the res publica were perfected during the supremacy of the Caesars. Velleius Paterculus’ History of Rome can be considered a work supporting the principate of Tiberius. In contrast to writers like Tacitus, who offers a very pessimistic view of Tiberius, Velleius provides a very idealized and propagandistic picture of him as the best ruler (optimus princeps).38 Tiberius is portrayed as the culmination of all the great leaders and generals of the Republic. It is not misleading to state that Velleius’ work was written to strengthen the idea that the organization of the Roman Empire was to be handed to a suitable and virtuous dominating individual. In the work of Velleius, Alexander is not compared with Tiberius, but with the emperor’s famous ‘grandfather’ and adoptive father of Augustus, Julius Caesar.39 Velleius was not the only author to see similarities between Alexander and Caesar and accordingly to compare them.40 Velleius often draws comparisons between father and son, brothers, or men in similar positions.41 An important question for this study is how and why Velleius compared Alexander with Caesar. In Velleius’ work, Augustus and Tiberius are raised above all other individuals as the creators of the Principate. Caesar’s main contribution is his adoption of Octavian.42 Caesar’s career precedes the greater regimes of Augustus and Tiberius. Even though the role of Caesar in the Velleian narrative is not as important as his successors, we can still see his role as facilitating the move towards one-man rule, and thus positive. In the comparison of Caesar and Alexander, Velleius sees similarities in the grandeur of their plans, in the cunning of their military campaigns, and in their ability to endure dangers.43 However, Caesar was better than Alexander in many ways. Caesar was sobrius and not iracundus. The first word can be translated “free from drinking”, or “sober in one’s habits and judgment”, and the second refers to a person who is “prone to anger, hot-tempered, irascible”, in other words, someone whose actions are marked by anger and unpredictability. In the passage, Velleius refers to the known negative attributes of Alexander that were also utilized in the philosophical treaties written by the Roman Latin intellectuals.44 Contrary to Alexander, Caesar ate and drank when it was necessary and not for voluptas.45 Generally, that word means “pleasure” but it can also refer to organized pleasures and entertainments. Velleius stresses that Caesar did not enjoy banquets in which eating and drinking sometimes went beyond what was considered proper. By means of negation, he builds a picture of Caesar as a man of virtue. In the ideology of the Principate, opposition to extravagance (luxuria) and of the promotion of modesty and moderation (moderatio) were part of the Imperial program.46 Using Alexander’s faults, Velleius draws a picture of the ideal Roman autocracy. Julius Caesar is, in Velleius’ presentation, a man who was in harmony with Republican virtues. In other words, Romans can reconcile monarchy with Roman Republican ideal values.47 At the same time, Velleius depicts the history of Rome as a story of great individuals who have led the Romans with desirable results;
36 Alexander in an empire of Romans, Greeks, and Jews by extension such men will continue to ensure that the Roman Empire will be prosperous in the future. In this sense, Velleius’ comparison shares the same eulogizing message that we find in Livy’s presentation. According to Velleius, Roman leaders are not only equal to Alexander in military virtues, but superior in moral qualities. His passage gives the Roman self-definition as a nation with an innate propensity towards all desirable virtues. The third Roman patriotic Alexander comparison comes from the historian Cornelius Tacitus (c. 55–120). In his Annals, Tacitus compares Alexander to the Roman general Germanicus (15 BC – AD 19). The comparison is made after Tacitus’ description of Germanicus’ funeral. The narrative allows Tacitus to shift from a critical presentation of the Tiberian principate to praise of Roman virtues and customs. Tacitus mentions that Germanicus’ contemporaries already saw similarities with Alexander in their appearance, young age, manner of death, and the place where they died.48 After enumerating the similarities between Germanicus and Alexander, Tacitus points out the things that made Germanicus better than Alexander: But the Roman had borne himself as one gentle to his friends, moderate in his pleasures, content with a single wife and the children of lawful wedlock. Nor was he less a man of the sword; though he lacked the other’s temerity, and, when his numerous victories had beaten down the Germanies, was prohibited from making fast their bondage [servitium]. But had he been the sole arbiter of affairs, of kingly authority and title, he would have overtaken the Greek in military fame with an ease proportioned to his superiority in clemency, selfcommand, and all other good qualities.49 While describing the character of Germanicus, Tacitus refers to well-known aspects of Alexander’s behavior. Germanicus’ attributes are the antithesis of Alexander’s failings. In Tacitus’ comparison, it is noted that Germanicus only married once and that his offspring were from a decent marriage. In turn, Alexander is reported to have kept the Rhodian Barsine as his concubine and to have married first the Bactrian princess Roxanne and then Stateira, the daughter of Darius and Parysatis, daughter of Ochus.50 The implicit allusion to the personal life of Alexander stresses the Roman concepts of culturally proper matrimony and the importance of having children from one marriage. Tacitus reminds his audience of the Roman way to marry, which contrasts with the uncivilized ways of the surrounding peoples. In Roman thinking, its traditional ways and practices (mos maiorum) make Romans better than other nations. It is according to Roman standards that ‘others’ (non-Romans), like Macedonians, are assessed.51 Tacitus also notes that Germanicus was mild (mitis), or at least not harsh, toward his friends and that he was moderate in respect to entertainments (voluptas). The statement above refers to the negative attributes of Alexander which Livy and Velleius had already mentioned in their comparisons. Alexander’s faults enable the patriotic praise of Rome’s ability to produce greater heroes than he. According
Alexander in an empire of Romans, Greeks, and Jews 37 to Tacitus, Germanicus, as a general, was as good as Alexander, but he was not prone to foolhardiness (temeritas). Here, Alexander’s military virtue, his reckless courage – which is often proffered as his most remarkable feature – is presented as potentially detrimental.52 In Tacitus’ work, reckless courage could threaten the rest of the army and therefore should not be considered a positive feature. In Tacitus’ Annals and Histories, slavery (servitium) is opposite to the concept of liberty (libertas). In liberty, the imperial subjects can express their feelings openly. Accordingly, Tacitus’ concept of libertas is based on the subjects’ own mental attitude. If the imperial subjects are forced to flatter the emperor, they are being subjected to slavery. In contrast, a good emperor supports a system in which one can display his freedom by speaking his mind freely without being influenced by what the emperor wants to hear.53 After his victories over the Germans, Germanicus’ actions did not support the slavery of the habitants of Germania. In other words, Germanicus did not encourage the Germanic people to abandon their freedom by using flattery, but rather to freely express their opinions. By contrast, Persians and barbarians previously under the Persian monarchy were not ‘liberated’ from this state of affairs by Macedonian conquest, but during Alexander’s reign they were still ‘encouraged’ to live in slavery. Tacitus’ presentation of Alexander’s reign resembles that in Curtius’ work, which states that Alexander’s power promoted slavery among his Persian and Macedonian subjects.54 Alexander permitted and even demanded flattery from his subjects. Evidently, Tacitus had Tiberius’ reign in mind, in which liberty was, according to his view, minimized. In contrast to Alexander and Tiberius, Germanicus, representing a true Roman leader, did not support a regime which reduced his subjects to slavery. In the last lines of the comparison, Tacitus adds that had Germanicus been the sole ruler with the confirmation of law and title, he would have surpassed Alexander in fame or military renown in clementia and temperantia.55 This final statement of the passage was meant to illuminate the inconsistency in the government of the Roman Empire. After Augustus, the state of the empire was regrettable. In the Annales, Tiberius is represented as the greatest opponent of libertas and a promoter of servitude. Germanicus, on the other hand, is a true good old Roman man with all the (Roman) virtues. According to Tacitus, he should have been the ruler of Rome, not Tiberius. The Alexander comparison highlights the importance of a good emperor and Republican virtues that the right-minded rightful leader should apply. When the wrong men lead the Empire, as in the case of Tiberius, the whole Empire suffers. When Tacitus wrote the Annales, the Principate, a monarchy, had been established in the Roman world for 100 years. The Republic represented both a distant and often idealized golden age of the past. Tacitus himself had been successful in terms of his public career (cursus honorum), although he had experienced the reign of terror during the last years of Domitian’s rule.56 In this context, the political message of Tacitus’ comparison appears two-sided. A monarchy/principate can succeed if the ruler, as a ‘first among equals’ (primus inter pares), sticks to Roman virtues, that is, supporting libertas, and correspondingly enabling the
38 Alexander in an empire of Romans, Greeks, and Jews people to avoid servitium. Accordingly, Rome and its excellent men have suffered and will suffer if its Empire is ruled by inadequate emperors. On the other hand, his comparison was about praising the military and governmental order and the customs and moral abilities of the Roman Empire and its true leaders. The idealized Roman, like Germanicus, is incomparable simply because he acts like a true Roman and therefore has qualities that no non-Roman can possess, including Alexander. All his virtues and good qualities, which surpass those of the Macedonian king, indicate the correctness of the Roman senatorial ideal. In Tacitus’ political rhetoric, Roman supremacy is an undisputed fact, necessary for a prosperous future. The passages analyzed in this subchapter closely resemble the Roman texts describing the imitatio Alexandri of notable Romans in that the Macedonian world-conqueror functions as their ultimate paragon (see pages 21–22). Comparison of figures like Papirius Cursor, Julius Caesar, and Germanicus to Alexander reflects the admiration the king enjoyed among the Roman upper classes. Although at first glance these passages of Roman historiography might seem no more than attempts to show Rome and its illustrious men in an even better light than the great king of Macedon, they are actually a strategy of patriotic selffashioning. In the Alexander comparisons, he was depicted as great, but not as great as the Romans. Accordingly, the supposed faults of Alexander illuminated the degree of Roman greatness on all levels. The passages pronounced Roman constitutional and military superiority, which extended to Roman traditional customs and moral practices. Livy, Velleius, and Tacitus glorify the greatness of the best Roman individuals and leaders who act as real Romans should. In Velleius’ work, the lives of Julius Caesar, Augustus, and especially Tiberius show how the Roman system has raised individuals capable of ruling in a Roman way. On the other hand, Tacitus uses Alexander as a tool to separate the true Romans from the unsuitable rulers, who are acting in a non-Roman way. All the patriotic Alexander comparisons above were intended to shape Roman cultural identity. The idea of Roman superiority over the surrounding nations which they had subdued is, for these authors, an undisputed fact. At the same time, comparisons served to reinforce the unity of the traditional Roman ruling class, whose ability to produce new great individuals had not vanished. These comparisons were not primarily opinions or views on Alexander, but rather propagandistic views on the Roman Empire. For the Latin historians, the Roman Empire was the greatest empire of all time. The greatness of Rome is far above that of any possible rivals. Motivated by this ‘fact’, leading families, leading officials, generals, and emperors should continue to act according to the examples of the glorious past, which will guarantee continuing collective glory and prosperity for the Empire in the future.
The dangers of denying patria and mos maiorum This subchapter focuses on negative presentations of Alexander’s oriental policy and divinity. These themes appear in Roman Latin texts written during the period when the Principate was relatively new. After examining some passages of Livy
Alexander in an empire of Romans, Greeks, and Jews 39 and Valerius Maximus, I analyze the evidence found in Quintus Curtius’ History of Alexander. I argue that the critique of Alexander’s actions was an attempt to define how the Roman emperors should exercise their ultimate power and to remind them of the expectations of the Roman senatorial class. The aristocratic ideology of the Republican ruling class saw the very idea of a king (rex) and kingship (regnum) as suspect.57 However, with the rise of Octavian (Augustus), the political realities changed and henceforth the Roman Empire was ruled by one man. Augustus did not present himself as rex or dictator, but as the restorer of the Republic.58 In the new Augustan order, the one-man ruler was expected to show respect and reverence towards the previous Republican past and the mos maiorum. Augustus’ good relationship with the Roman senatorial class became the yardstick by which the later emperors were measured. It can be argued that, for the Romans, Alexander was an ambivalent figure who represented the other as well as a model for Romans. Although the figure of Alexander was widely admired in the Roman world, he represented monarchy, a form of government that was anathema to the Republican tradition.59 In the Latin texts of the Early Empire he is often called a king (rex), which naturally had its negative connotations. As we shall see, the critique of the king’s adoption of Eastern ways and manifestations of ruler-cult was exploited to define the way Roman autocracy should function in a world where one-man rule was an unfamiliar phenomenon.60 As stated above, Livy’s characterization of Alexander included deliberate sociopolitical messages. In the previous subchapter, I showed that one message of the passage was that Romans living under the reign of Augustus would continue to be victorious if they were faithful to its institutions. Accordingly, in the same passage, Livy gives a critical presentation of Alexander and his adoption of Eastern ways: He [Alexander] would evidently have come to Italy more like Darius than like Alexander, at the head of an army that had forgotten Macedonia and was already adopting the degenerate customs of the Persians. I am loath, in writing of so great prince, to remind the reader of the ostentatious alteration in his dress, and of his desire that men should prostrate themselves in adulation, a thing which even conquered Macedonians would have found oppressive, much more then [sic] those who had been victorious; of his cruel punishments and the murder of his friends as they drank and feasted; of the boastful lie about his origin.61 In Livy’s work, one of the worst things was that Alexander and his army had forgotten Macedon and had degenerated by adopting the customs (mores) of the Persians. The familiar concept in degenero refers to the idea of falling away from an earlier, ancestral, standard of behavior. The remark contains the idea that the Macedonian army had achieved its great success by following the Macedonian ways without the corruptive effect of the Eastern ways. Livy qualifies “the ostentatious alteration of Alexander’s dress”, “the desire that men should prostrate themselves in adulation”, and “the boastful lie about
40 Alexander in an empire of Romans, Greeks, and Jews his origin” as imitations of Eastern monarchy and its practices.62 One implicit message in Livy’s passage was to warn his readers about the dangers of rejecting Roman ways: the ruling class of the Roman Empire should not be seduced by the ways of the conquered barbarian nations and be true to their own traditions and practices. In other words, Rome as the ruler of the Mediterranean world should hold on to the elements that lay behind her success. Livy wrote his text on Alexander immediately after the civil war between Octavian and Mark Antony. During that civil war Octavian launched a propaganda war against Mark Antony in Rome. The propaganda labeled Antony a slave of Eastern luxury and vices, and especially Cleopatra’s spells.63 Antony was presented as acting in a non-Roman way by accepting Eastern religions and ways. Livy’s contemporaries could use Alexander’s faults to illustrate the alleged origins of the harmful civil war in the abandonment of Roman ways and values. Valerius Maximus lists Alexander’s actions as the first foreign example of haughtiness (superbia) and outrageous (inpotentia) behavior. A couple of decades after Livy and some decades before Curtius, in the reign of Tiberius, Valerius wrote that it was Alexander’s courage and fortune that made him grow arrogant, in three stages: He looked down on Philip, and claimed that Jupiter Hammon was his father, he grew tired of Macedonian customs and society, so he took Persian ways of dressing and behaving; he rejected his status as a human being and strove to become a god. He had no qualms about denying his father, his country, and his humanity.64 Here, abandoning Macedonian ways and adopting Persian dress was regarded as similar to denying one’s fatherland. Throwing away the Roman mos maiorum was condemnable, haughty and outrageous behavior. Alexander’s action in adopting Persian ways, costumes, and divinity served to indicate to the Roman audience what was proper and what was not. Implicitly, Valerius is saying that the members of the Roman elite should not grow tired of faithfully following the basic forms of Roman customs and society, as Alexander did of his Macedonian roots. In other words, they should avoid any activity that would challenge the existing political order. The fidelity towards Roman institutions and customs, including clothing and worshipping gods in a proper manner, is to be expected of the Roman elite. Valerius’ reference to clothing may have been a reminder to his audience of the toga, the principal garment of the free-born Roman male.65 Condemnable in Alexander’s supposed divinity was that he looked down on Philip’s paternity and took Jupiter Amon as his father.66 Alexander’s alleged disrespect for the memory of his father could be considered a means of eulogizing the ruler-cult in Augustan and Tiberian Rome, since divine respect toward the memory of the previous emperors as adoptive fathers was an essential part of Julio-Claudian ideology.67 Valerius’ passage contained the message that reigning emperors should pay respect to their predecessors, live according to the Roman
Alexander in an empire of Romans, Greeks, and Jews 41 ways and should not act like Alexander, who did not pay homage to his father or to Macedonian customs. The theme of Alexander’s negatively presented orientalism and ruler-cult in Livy and Valerius Maximus is emphasized more distinctly in Quintus Curtius Rufus’ History of Alexander. The author himself represented the Roman senatorial class and composed his work during the reign of Claudius.68 In scholarship, Curtius’ work has been treated mostly in the context of reconstructing the historical period of Alexander’s reign, but this was not necessarily Curtius’ main concern when he composed his work.69 In contrast, J. E. Atkinson stated in his commentary on Curtius that, for the author, Alexander was a vehicle by which he could communicate his own concerns about the Principate, and that his target audience was the senatorial class and those who shared its values. At the same time, Curtius was careful not to allow the emperor of the day to take his work as a thinly veiled criticism of his rule.70 Accordingly, Atkinson remarked that it must be a working assumption that Curtius’ History of Alexander may have made significant points at a metatextual level of meaning while he was writing in an unfree society.71 However, this kind of reading and exploration of Curtius’ own concerns about the Principate has not received much interest in Curtian scholarship, not even in Atkinson’s own research.72 Unlike the Curtian scholars who search for the historical Alexander or distinguish certain literary themes, I approach the work from the perspective of how Curtius used the story of Alexander in the social and political context of the Claudian regime. Curtius’ choice to write a ‘monograph’ about Alexander’s life for his Roman audience may have been motivated to a degree by the great Roman leaders’, and especially Claudius’ predecessor Caligula’s, admiration for Alexander or at least use of his reputation in the promulgation of official policy. In this cultural milieu, Curtius’ treatment of Alexander not only received interest as a ‘new’ version of the king’s well-known story, but also constructed new meanings and values about the proper and improper ways of governing for its contemporary audience. An important concept in Curtius’ work is the way he classifies the Macedonians and Persians as “nations living under kings (reges)” and sometimes refers to the Macedonians as “a people accustomed to live with monarchy.”73 Curtius presents himself as writing from the perspective of an outsider. When he wrote it is arguable that the Romans were not accustomed to living under the rule of kings. In the Claudian era, the Principate had existed for only fifty years, and in the Roman Republican tradition, monarchy was regarded as a threat. Curtius concentrates on the negative change in the king’s relation with his subjects; in other words, how “a people accustomed to live with monarchy” started to reject their beloved king. If the Macedonians who had lived for a long time under monarchy did not tolerate the wrong kind of autocracy, how much more should this be true of the Romans. Even though the first two books of Curtius’ work have not survived, we can still identify the radical change in the king’s relationship with his Macedonian staff through the evidence found in the narrative of the third and fourth books. In the
42 Alexander in an empire of Romans, Greeks, and Jews third book, there is a picture of a young Macedonian king showing many virtues and maintaining a unique relationship with his fellow men. One reason for this respect and good relationship was because Alexander dressed in a way that did not vary from the dress of the “ordinary citizen” and because he “had the energy of a soldier.”74 At this stage, Alexander is depicted as a ‘beloved’ (carus) and deeply ‘respected’ (venerandus) king, who enjoys ideal trust and the loyalty of his men.75 The negative change in the way that Alexander exercises his power towards his Macedonian subjects is an important theme in the work of Curtius. In the narrative, the king’s ideal relationship with his men is destroyed when he starts to act like a barbarian autocrat. In Curtius’ work, Alexander’s quick military success (provided by fortuna) encouraged him to adopt certain vices and motivated him to introduce the wrong kind of ruler-cult. Curtius writes: “Alexander was goaded by an overwhelming desire to visit the temple of Jupiter – dissatisfied with elevation on the mortal level, he either considered, or wanted others to believe, that Jupiter was his ancestor.”76 In Curtius’ text, the visit and the king’s yearning for divinity underline the negative progress towards the wrong kind of autocracy.77 Curtius’ critical treatment is stressed when Alexander meets the priests in Siwah. First, Alexander, forgetting his mortal state (humanae sortis), welcomes the fact that the eldest priest calls him ‘son’, filium, the name that Jupiter had given him.78 According to Curtius, Alexander should have taken a critical attitude towards these vague (vana) responses of the oracle through sound and honest argument.79 Curtius’ narrative follows the same tradition as Livy and Valerius Maximus, discussed above. Alexander, not satisfied with his role as the king of Macedon, shows contempt for the expectations of his own people with his outrageous actions. The episode underlining the moral degeneration of the king is manifested further in the subsequent part of Curtius’ work. Later in the narrative, the negative change in the king’s behavior is linked with orientalism, as Alexander starts to imitate Persian court practices. A crucial turning point is described at the beginning of the sixth book, where Curtius depicts the aftermath of the victory of Gaugamela. After the battle, Alexander misuses his spare time (otium) and turns to copying foreign practices (externi mores). This is presented in the narrative as a contrast to the behavior of the Spartan king Agis. In Curtius’ rhetoric, Alexander acted in a way that betrayed his infatuation with the evil practices of alien nations in preference to the ways of his own country.80 In Curtius’ construction, the Macedonian mos maiorum had enabled Alexander’s success and it was the very element connected with his virtues and the ideal relationship to his men. Curtius adopts the Greco-Roman bias against the Persians and the East, by presenting them as degenerative powers inferior to the civilized Greeks and Romans.81 According to Benjamin Isaac, the negative connotations Persia received as a corrupting oriental threat were created during the Persian Wars through the literary culture of Greek city-states, mainly in Athens.82 Many prejudices, like the idea of the Persian Empire as a hotbed of various vices, a place of slavery, and the epitome of despotic government, were linked to national stereotypes. During
Alexander in an empire of Romans, Greeks, and Jews 43 the Roman Imperial period, most of the former Persian Empire was ruled by the Parthians, to whom the Romans attached the many stereotypes previously linked with the Persian Achaemenid Empire.83 The theme of the corrupting East, with its vices and luxury, was connected to the story of Alexander presented by Livy, Valerius, and Curtius. In these texts, that the Eastern ways of the Persians were barbaric and damaging was regarded as self-evident. Curtius also constructs an image of the Macedonian ways and values as morally superior to the Persian ones. Macedonian soldiers are depicted as virtuous men opposing the banquets, expressing reserve towards heavy drinking and harlots. Curtius writes: For men who held fast to their native discipline, and were accustomed with frugal and easily obtained food to satisfy the demands of nature, he had driven to the evil habits of foreign and conquered nations.84 Curtius’ construction of Macedonians soldiers as previously sober and nonbanqueting men does not conform to the more common view of the Macedonians in ancient and modern times. In the Classical world, the Macedonians were famous for their banquets and heavy drinking.85 Avoiding this national stereotype, Curtius constructs his image of the Macedonians with the purpose of discussing the importance of Republican virtues, of defining the position of the ruler towards his subjects, and of highlighting the priority of resisting harmful alien practices. The idealized characterization of the Macedonians can be viewed as a Curtian presentation of the Romans with Republican virtue.86 In Curtius’ work, Alexander’s failures are linked to his decision to set aside his own national values and to adopt alien practices.87 In other words, Curtius is saying that if Alexander had remained Macedonian, he would not have destroyed his relationship with his Macedonian subjects. In the narrative, Curtius continues the theme of negative change and summarizes the king’s development after his meeting with Darius’ former eunuch Bagoas, and with the Amazon queen Thalestris, as follows:88 It was in fact at this time that Alexander gave loose rein to his passion, and changed continence and self-control, eminent virtues in every exalted fortune, to haughtiness and wantonness. Regarding his native customs and the discipline of the Macedonian kings, wholesomely restrained and democratic, as too low for his grandeur, he strove to rival the loftiness of the Persian court, equal to the power of gods.89 Curtius lists certain virtues of the king’s early career, which he contrasts with his vices. As in Valerius Maximus’ text, the vices are superbia and lascivia. The former referred to ‘pride’ and ‘lofty self-esteem’, and the latter to ‘unruly’ or ‘licentious’ behavior. Curtius deliberately idealizes the reigns of the previous Macedonian kings and the Macedonian monarchy, which is linked with his rhetorical aims. The presentation of the passage can be read as an allusion to
44 Alexander in an empire of Romans, Greeks, and Jews emperors like Augustus and Tiberius (the predecessors of Caligula) who respected the Republican tradition, or at least did so ‘officially’. In Curtius’ work, foreign costumes and symbols of power were proofs that one-man rule conflicted with Macedonian expectations. Alexander compelled his friends, his cavalry, and the leaders of the soldiers to wear Persian dress; this was repugnant to the Macedonians, but they did not dare to refuse it.90 In addition, Alexander filled his palace with 365 concubines and hordes of eunuchs who were also accustomed to prostitution.91 By the “loftiness of the Persian court, equal to the gods”, Curtius was referring to proskynesis, the Persian greeting, and wearing the symbols of power once worn by the king Darius. Proskynesis was a famous Persian protocol, a greeting without any religious connotations, and Curtius approached the matter from a Roman perspective, a culture that traditionally did not contain such a protocol.92 Among the royal symbols of power were the purple diadem, Persian garb, and the ring of Darius.93 In the passage, Curtius stresses the bad effects of this emulation of Persian monarchs: “He used to say that he was wearing the spoils of the Persians; but with them he had assumed also their customs and insolence of spirit accompanied by the magnificence of his attire.”94 In the Roman context, these practices embodied a principate that differed from the ‘accepted’ Augustan model. As stated above, Curtius was most likely a contemporary of Caligula. The official image of Caligula and his infamous crimes against Roman mores remind us of Curtius’ Alexander. According to Philo, Suetonius, and Cassius Dio, Caligula made a good start, but the alteration in his character was due to the illness he suffered in 38.95 Young Caligula was reported to be especially respected by the Roman army, just as Alexander was respected by the Macedonians at the start of his career as ruler. After his recovery from illness, Caligula’s personality changed dramatically for the worse and the “universal good ended.”96 The image of Caligula as a good emperor, ‘one of us’, begins to change to the bad and dangerous despotic ‘other’. Numerous executions, exiles, and the forced suicides of leading senators, in other words, crimes against the Roman upper classes, were reported.97 In addition to a series of murders, mistrust and suspicion began to arise within the Imperial administration and the court. Caligula is reported to have clothed himself unusually and ruled according to Eastern tastes, just like the degenerate Alexander presented in Livy, Valerius Maximus, and Curtius.98 According to the ancient texts of the Early Empire, Caligula did not take the traditional sentiments of the many members of the senatorial class into consideration. The members of the Roman senatorial class expected their emperor to do his job, as the top man of a hierarchical system, in a way that would represent core Roman values. In contrast to his predecessors, Caligula did not care about his obligations, but acted in the manner of the Eastern autocrats. In Classical literature, Caligula’s unconventional behavior was represented as a sharp contrast to the regimes of Augustus and Tiberius. Caligula’s enforced ruler-cult and his demands to be recognized as a god resemble Curtius’ narrative of Alexander’s visit to Siwah and its notorious
Alexander in an empire of Romans, Greeks, and Jews 45 aftermath. Especially important in the Classical sources was Caligula’s public attitude towards his own divinity.99 The emperor, who considered himself a god, abandoned actions suitable for mortals. The imperial cult had been introduced into the Eastern provinces before Caligula’s reign, but a living emperor had never been worshipped in Rome.100 For the contemporary Roman elites, these demands must have felt repugnant, especially as Caligula probably demanded worship in his own right with no divine associations linked to Rome or the Senate.101 Like Alexander in Curtius’ works, Caligula is also reported to have introduced the ritual of obeisance known as proskynesis.102 As with Curtius’ Alexander, who alienated himself from his own Macedonian people, Caligula’s divine aspirations and provocative policy seemed very distant, condemnable, and regrettable in the eyes of the Roman upper classes. The Romanized story of Alexander and his radically changing relationship with his Macedonian countrymen served as a warning about the terrible reign of Gaius Caligula. In Curtius’ rhetoric, Alexander did not respect the natural expectations the Macedonians had of their king. The king was not satisfied with his role as the king of Macedon, whose monarchic power was based on the Macedonian mos maiorum, but yearned for more power that in fact did not belong to him. Similarly, Caligula, in the Classical tradition, was not content with his duties as princeps but broke his relationship with the senatorial upper class. The historical Caligula has been said to have emulated Alexander, which may have been one of the reasons why Curtius chose the latter as a subject.103 Ideas concerning the way monarchy should be arranged in Rome were of immediate concern during Caligula’s notorious autocracy. It can be argued that Curtius’ History of Alexander was a way of handling the shocking recent memory of Caligula’s reign and perhaps, he hoped, a way of ensuring that such a terrible autocracy would not recur in the near future.104 In Curtius’ paradigm, Alexander’s irresponsible autocracy had to be separated from the Claudian regime. There is a reference that Claudius was officially estranged from the memory of Alexander in the Roman Principate. Augustus had had two friezes created, one depicting Victory and Alexander with Castor and Pollux, and the other with Alexander riding triumphant in his chariot alongside the image of war in the Forum Augustum. Claudius is reported to have ordered the faces of Alexander to be cut out and replaced with images of the deified Augustus.105 Pliny had lived during the reign of Claudius. In the passage, Pliny depicted Claudius as an emperor who wanted to distance himself publicly from the reign of Caligula, to show that he was leaning on the Augustan principate. In the world after Caligula, Curtius’ moralizing concerns and the general debate over the right way of governing can be seen in his work. In an autocratic society such as the Roman Empire, this feature of the narrative containing a sociopolitical message was evident. Curtius’ story-writing defined the ways of a good princeps, who ruled his countrymen in accordance with the expectations of the senatorial upper class. Alexander spoiled his good relationship with his men, and this example was used by Curtius to remind his audience that a proper relationship between the emperor and his subjects was essential. For the Roman elites, it was not only
46 Alexander in an empire of Romans, Greeks, and Jews important to see how the princeps acted in relation to defeated people, but to see how the emperor exercised his power towards themselves – mainly the senatorial class. Perhaps in the future Curtius’ work will be examined systematically for its sociopolitical messages and as a commentary on contemporary Roman concerns. The much imitated and admired Alexander also offered a negative model for the Latin Roman authors: an example of what not to do. The critical portrait of Alexander as a degenerate oriental despot underlined certain political lessons. The foreign practices, values, and the system of government in non-Roman states are not only inferior to the Roman ones, but also harmful if they are imitated. In barbarian states under one-man rule (rex), the king can use his power without concern for his obligations. Since foreign practices and despotic one-man rule are interpreted as objectional, dishonorable, and shameful, imitating these practices and their conduct can only lead to disaster. A corollary of the above message was that when a ruler starts to imitate the foreign practices, he is replacing superior Roman ways with inferior practices. This potentially frightening picture was a severe threat to traditional Roman identity. Even though Rome had conquered the inhabited world, it had to be careful not to adopt the ways of the conquered nations. Although geographically expanded, the Empire should still be Roman. The Latin writers of the Early Empire saw Alexander as a means to discuss the problems that autocracy would bring the empire. These Roman writers were not setting out to assess the historical Alexander but to comment on and evaluate how and why the princeps should exercise his power for the benefit of his fellow countrymen. Roman intellectuals repeated the demand that Rome should remain faithful to her institutions and the customs that had made her great.106 According to this way of thinking, Rome’s success lay in her fidelity to her virtues and lifestyle. The message transmitted in their presentations of Alexander denying his patria and mos maiorum was that it was important to remain faithful to the Roman ruling system and its sociopolitical customs. The princeps should always use his power in a way respectful of the demands of the Roman senatorial class.
Alexander as a Greek cultural hero While Latin Romans used a critical portrait of Alexander in their patriotic texts, Roman Greeks exploited the figure of Alexander in political rhetoric and identity construction. Here, I focus on the idealized portraits of Alexander by the Roman Greeks: why did the Greek Roman writers of the Early Empire give a positive image of Alexander’s career and his oriental policy? I explore the patriotic message behind these heroic presentations of Alexander. My hypothesis is that contemporary political realities and the needs of the Roman Greek upper classes impacted on the way these authors wrote about Alexander. The popular trend among the Roman ruling class was a phenomenon now called philhellenism.107 This was both a cultural and a political matter. Greek language, literature, and philosophy were favored by the Romans from the second century BC onwards. After Rome conquered the Greek city-states during the wars of the second and first centuries BC, Greek culture made a deep impact on the Roman
Alexander in an empire of Romans, Greeks, and Jews 47 Empire. The blend of Greek and Roman values and the admiration for Greek culture lived on for a long time during the Principate and was to continue throughout the history of the empire. Many Roman emperors, including Augustus, Nero, and Hadrian, are famously described as philhellenes because of their support for Greek art and culture.108 In the Hellenistic East, the memory of Alexander had lived on during the centuries since his death. When Rome conquered the Greek East, it encountered absolute monarchies ruled by Hellenistic kings or successors in Asia Minor who imitated them. Even though it might be an exaggeration to consider Alexander the inaugurator of a new age who created a new world of kingdoms informed by Greek culture, his legacy in the Hellenistic East was indisputable.109 In the Hellenistic East, Alexander was treated as ‘the first king’ and as a national hero, a god, or in some cases as the founder of Alexandria.110 It can be argued that for Greek Roman writers, Alexander did not belong to the ‘other’ but to the ‘us’. The writers I consider here came from Greek-speaking areas, such as the province of Bithynia (Arrian, Dio Chrysostom, Cassius Dio), the city of Alexandria (Diodorus, Appian), or the cities of mainland Greece (Plutarch, Aelius Aristides, Polyaenus). They were Roman citizens and had created a career within the Roman Empire.111 Yet they were more ‘insiders about Greek culture’ than they were about Roman culture.112 In addition, their position as the representatives of the Greekspeaking elite and the Greek past was something they wanted to promote.113 The idealized Greek Alexander of the Early Empire has been recognized in earlier research.114 However, scholarly interest has often been directed towards particular writers and particular works such as Plutarch’s Alexander biography and his essay On the fortune or the virtue of Alexander the Great. Many other Greek passages dealing with Alexander have received very little attention.115 Accordingly, passages concerning Alexander have been examined as literary themes appearing in works written by the representatives of the Second Sophistic movement.116 Questions of language and genre have received scholarly interest, while the idealized image of Alexander has not been considered in its own right as a use of history for specific purposes. I suggest that the portrait of Alexander in the Greek Roman texts should not be considered mainly the writer’s personal opinion about the king, or as a reflection of the Second Sophistic movement, but rather as a conscious attempt to convey a sociopolitical message and promote specific values. Correspondingly, these writers’ presentations of Alexander were closely related to contemporary cultural and political concerns. Diodorus, a Greek writer from Alexandria, wrote his Library of History during the reign of Augustus. The portrait of Alexander in Diodorus is quite typical of the Greek Roman treatments of the king in the Imperial Era: He accomplished greater deeds than any, not only of the kings who had lived before him but also of those who were to come later down to our time.117 In this passage, the Macedonian king is depicted as the greatest leader of all time. Diodorus refers to his own time, which had witnessed leaders such as Pompey,
48 Alexander in an empire of Romans, Greeks, and Jews Caesar, and Augustus. For Greek writers, Alexander’s topmost position is indisputable. We find several other Greek writers eulogizing Alexander’s career. In his so-called second preface to the Anabasis, Arrian stated that “no other man performed such remarkable deeds, whether in number or magnitude, among either Greeks or barbarians.”118 Plutarch went even further in his essay: not satisfied with simply calling Alexander a “great man”, he described the Macedonian king as the “greatest man who ever lived.”119 Alongside these laudatory comments, many Greek writers made comparisons between Alexander and famous Roman statesmen. As distinct from the Roman Latin texts examined earlier in this book, Alexander is at least as good as, if not clearly better than, both his Greek and Macedonian predecessors and the many illustrious Roman generals and statesmen. This becomes evident in Plutarch’s biography of Pompey. Plutarch draws a comparison between Pompey and Alexander. He was not the first to do this. Pliny the Elder, in his Natural History, referred to Pompey the Great, whose victories and many triumphs had “equaled the brilliance” not only of Alexander but of Hercules and Liber Father.120 In his life of Pompey, Plutarch goes against the trend with a critical statement. He mentions how Pompey celebrated his third triumph over the third continent. Plutarch states, “So it seemed in a way to have included the whole world.” In the next passage, Plutarch has the career of Alexander on his mind when he describes Pompey’s age: His age at this time, as those insist, who compare him in all points to Alexander and force the parallel, was less than thirty-four years, though in fact he was nearly forty. How happy would it have been for him if he had ended his life at this point, up to which he enjoyed the good fortune of Alexander.121 Plutarch refers to those who insist on comparing Pompey in all aspects to Alexander. It is, in Plutarch’s view, ‘forcing the parallel’. By this statement, Plutarch wants to make clear to his audience the exaggerated nature of the claims made for Pompey in this ‘trend’. He insistently reminds his readership that Pompey was the same age as Alexander when he celebrated his three triumphs, but was at the peak of his career. The Roman warlord was in fact nearly 40. The critical statement implies that Pompey was not equal to Alexander. The reference to the peak of Pompey’s career reminds the reader that he was ultimately defeated in the civil war against Caesar. Plutarch insists that Pompey’s accomplishments were not particularly remarkable or astonishing – certainly not in the light of Alexander’s. It would have been better if Pompey had died at this age. In that case, he could have enjoyed the ‘good fortune of Alexander’. Other similar comparisons between Alexander and his Roman counterparts are found in Appian’s (95–165) Civil Wars and Dio Cassius’ (ca. 155–235) Roman History. In his work, probably written during the reign of Antoninus Pius, Appian places Caesar alongside Alexander, but in a slightly differently way than Velleius does (cf. previous subchapter). When it comes to Caesar’s attributes, Appian describes him as a man “fittingly compared with Alexander.”122 The passage
Alexander in an empire of Romans, Greeks, and Jews 49 shows a different approach to those adopted by the writers of patriotic Roman Latin comparisons. To be compared to Alexander is the greatest honor one could receive, and thus comparison in itself was a great mark of respect. On the other hand, it is notable that when Greek writers like Appian wrote on Roman heroes, they almost invariably reminded their audience of the greatness of Alexander. In a passage that follows the death of Caesar, Appian outlines what Alexander and Caesar had in common.123 The digression serves as praise of both Alexander and Caesar. According to Appian both men had the greatest ambitions, were skilled in warfare, quick in their decisions, and relied equally on audacity, luck, and military skill. Furthermore, they both mourned their dead commanders and paid them divine honors. Additionally, they were both students of the sciences and arts. Alexander’s troops were unbeaten (ἀήττητος), while Caesar’s troops were humiliated in Gaul, Spain, and Africa.124 Dio Cassius makes a point of emphasizing Roman emperors’ veneration and imitation of Alexander.125 In the narrative dealing with Trajan’s Parthian expedition, he depicts Alexander as the object of great admiration and worthy of emulation. Dio Cassius states: And he [Trajan] counted Alexander a lucky man. Yet he would declare that he himself had advanced farther than Alexander, and would so write to the senate, although he was unable to preserve even the territory that he had subdued.126 As in the case of Plutarch and Appian, Dio maintains Alexander’s superiority over his Roman counterparts. Although Trajan wanted to emulate Alexander and identify himself with the king’s achievements, he did not match Alexander. With the help of the Alexander – Roman statesman comparisons, Greek writers set Greek culture and its products above Roman achievements. We could argue that the intention was also to remind the audience of the history of the ‘Greek’ conqueror who provided a model for later Roman warlords and emperors. The tendency to accentuate Alexander’s superiority is seen also in the way Hellenistic kings are compared to him. In the Lives, Plutarch draws two comparisons in which he deliberately differentiates Alexander from his Greek/Macedonian successors – ‘wannabe Alexanders’. Demetrius (336–283 BC) was one of these successors of Alexander, who ruled in Macedonia. When Plutarch describes the general assembly held at the Isthmus of Corinth, he mentions that Demetrius proclaimed himself commander in chief of the Greeks, as Philip and Alexander had done.127 Plutarch states that Demetrius considered himself as fully equal to them, because he enjoyed good fortune and power. However, Demetrius was inferior to Alexander and his father. According to Plutarch, Demetrius took lavish royal titles while Alexander bestowed royal titles upon other kings but never proclaimed himself ‘Kings of Kings’ (βασιλέων βασιλέα). Plutarch states that Alexander did not take the title of the Persian kings and showed restraint, while Demetrius mocked those who gave the title to anyone other than himself and his father.128
50 Alexander in an empire of Romans, Greeks, and Jews In the biography of Aemilius, Plutarch depicts Perseus, the last king of Macedon (179–168 BC), who lost his empire to the Romans, as one of Alexander’s successors who tried to identify himself with his famous predecessor. According to Plutarch, Perseus “laid claim to share the virtues of Alexander and Philip, whose descendant he was.”129 Alexander believed that an “empire was to be bought with money, not money with empire.”130 However, in this passage Plutarch highlights that Perseus was not like Alexander and Philip. As a demonstration of this, he recounts the anecdote about Alexander, who after noticing his soldiers dragging burdensome and heavy wagonloads of Persian booty, first decided to destroy his own royal baggage wagons and then persuaded his men to do the same with theirs.131 According to the story Alexander set a worthy example for his men and strengthened the moral fiber of his soldiers. On the other hand, Perseus did not consent to pour out his gold and purchase the salvation of his country with even a small part of his treasure. Instead, he chose to carry a load of treasure with him like a wealthy captive. In doing this, he showed the Romans that he had been saving his riches for himself in anticipation of possible defeat.132 In other words, Perseus was not worthy of comparison with Alexander, and therefore was not able to offer sufficient resistance against the Roman armies. In the passages above, Plutarch favorably compared Alexander’s prestige with that (such as it was) of the Successors, however much they wanted to be second Alexanders. For Plutarch, these presentations also explained the present political realities.133 Demetrius and Perseus both belonged to the royal house of the Antigonids, who as rulers of Macedonia, regarded themselves as the successors of Philip and Alexander.134 Yet under their command, Greece and Macedonia had lost their previous independence and succumbed to the Roman Empire. In these passages, we can distinguish Plutarch’s desire to prove that the Antigonids, who tried to imitate Alexander in their policy, were not like him in their military abilities or moral character. Through these comparisons, the Roman victory over the Greek city-states and Hellenistic kingdoms could be presented as a result of the degeneracy of their leaders. It was not about denying Rome the glory of its achievements, as Plutarch said she had earned her success. It was about distancing the glorious past of Athens and the undertakings of Philip and Alexander (as depicted) from the regimes of the Successors. Unsurprisingly, the extant Greek histories and monographs of the Early Empire neglect the era after Alexander.135 For the Greek writers, it seems that it was more important to maintain the ‘golden’ image of the Classical period and the conquests of Alexander and point out its resemblance to the present Roman Empire than to retell and idealize the history of the Successors. Below I will examine the Greek Roman writers’ handling of Alexander’s success, military virtues, and oriental policy. When creating useful images of the past, the explanations of events play an important part in that discourse. In these explanations two concepts, τύχη ( fortuna) and ἀρετή (virtus) became very popular from the Hellenistic period onwards. Τύχη can sometimes be translated as ‘chance’ and sometimes as divine ‘providence’.136 Among the Greco-Roman upper classes a popular subject of discussion was the causes of the military and political success of Alexander and the rise of Rome to
Alexander in an empire of Romans, Greeks, and Jews 51 hegemony. The discussion about Alexander’s fortune probably started in the early Hellenistic period.137 After the Roman Empire had achieved its superior position in the Mediterranean world during the second century BC, the discussion, at least by the time of Polybius (ca. 200–118 BC), turned to Rome’s rise to become the greatest Empire and whether it was due to Fortune or due to something else.138 The discussion not only consisted of theoretical speculation but also provided an explanation for the contemporary relationship between Rome and her Greek and Hellenistic predecessors. In Polybius’ Histories, the figure of Alexander does not receive special attention, but the historian often speaks about the ‘Macedonians’ collectively by referring to the Macedonian Empire, to Alexander’s achievements and those of his successors.139 Polybius’ Histories describe the factors that lay behind Roman success other than the Τύχη that Polybius saw in Rome’s own virtue and the virtue of its leaders.140 In Polybius’ work, the earlier Macedonian conquests are depicted as unfinished.141 In addition, Polybius adds that the Macedonians were not aware of the peoples of Western Europe, but that the Romans had achieved something that surpassed the achievements of preceding empires. One reason for the lack of interest in Alexander on the part of Polybius may be his focus on the period between the Second Punic War and the battle of Pydna (168 BC). The areas in which the events he described occurred had not been conquered by Alexander. Another reason may be that when Polybius wrote his Histories, the Roman Empire had not conquered the Eastern Mediterranean or confronted the successor states of Alexander’s former empire. Two hundred years later, when Roman rule had conquered the Eastern Mediterranean, the Greek writers of the Early Empire confronted different political realities. Alexander’s success was praised by these writers, but mainly in comparison to the success of the Roman Empire. While the Roman Latin writers presented Alexander’s rapid success as a fortunate conquest which spoiled the king and made his moral decline possible,142 Greek Roman writers presented the success of Alexander in different terms. The success was not due mainly to Fortune (chance or divine providence): instead, they emphasized both the king’s various military and moral virtues and his abilities to exploit the gifts of ‘chance’ or ‘providence’. For example, Diodorus tried to convince his readers that Alexander was not corrupted by success or Fortune. In the narrative that deals with the king’s compassionate treatment of Darius’ mother and wife, Diodorus adds: In general I would say that of many good deeds done by Alexander there is none that is greater or more worthy of record and mention in history than this . . . Most people are made proud for their successes because of their good fortune and becoming arrogant in their success, are forgetful of the common weakness of mankind. Although Alexander lived many generations before our time, let him continue to receive in future ages also the just and proper praise for his good qualities.143 Diodorus does not comment on how much the king’s success depended on good fortune, but he rejects the possibility that Alexander was corrupted after his quick
52 Alexander in an empire of Romans, Greeks, and Jews success enabled by the victory of Issus. The king could still show the desired qualities. In addition, the text encourages the audience also to praise Alexander in the future. The comment on Alexander’s posthumous fame defends his heroic status in the Roman world. Similarly, in Plutarch’s Life of Alexander the role of Τύχη does not receive much attention.144 According to the main argument, what was important was how Alexander utilized the favorable position given by divine providence/chance in warfare. In other words, the workings of Fortune reveal the commander’s martial virtues. For example, about the battle of Issus, Plutarch remarks: “And not only was the place for the battle a gift of fortune to Alexander, but his generalship was better than the provisions of fortune for his victory.”145 The victory of the battle of the River Granicus is also depicted in the light of Alexander’s resolution and courage.146 Plutarch’s description of the battle of Gaugamela could be viewed as partially an appraisal of Alexander’s Homeric virtues. The king’s desire to encounter Darius face to face like heroes in the Iliad did is described as the reason behind his victory.147 In Plutarch’s Life of Alexander, military operations carried out in favorable situations stressed the king’s virtues. In other words, the king’s success was due to his abilities as a commander strategically exploiting a favorable position on the battlefield.148 Indeed, Plutarch’s On the fortune or the virtue of Alexander promotes the idea that Alexander’s magnificent career was based on his virtue and ability to practice philosophy, rather than on ‘chance’. Like many other previous kings, Alexander did not achieve anything easily.149 In fact, the numerous wounds he received in battles testify to the opposite.150 It was Alexander’s ability to show virtues like courage (ἀνδρεία), justice (δικαιοσύνη), and self-control (σωφροσύνη) in various situations that led him to victory.151 Arrian’s Anabasis, written some decades later, concentrates on the king’s military operations and success.152 The king and his military virtues are repeatedly stressed and praised. The work itself could be regarded as both a eulogizing and a didactic presentation of Alexander’s kingship.153 In the Anabasis, Alexander’s military achievements and success are described as resulting from his visionary generalship, not from the gifts of Fortune.154 In addition to extolling Alexander’s military success, Greek Roman writers presented Alexander’s adoption of Eastern ways as a justified, and even wise, policy to win over the Persians.155 In Plutarch’s Life of Alexander the king is not seduced by the Eastern banquets and luxury after his military success, but maintains his self-control in terms of food and sexual relationships.156 In addition, he actively encourages his Macedonian companions to avoid the moral degeneration caused by wealth and luxury.157 Through this presentation Plutarch protects Alexander’s status as a Greek cultural hero whose success and career symbolized all forms of virtue. There is thus a clear distinction between the way that Greek Roman writers wrote about Alexander’s success, virtues, and oriental policy and that of the Roman Latin authors. Plutarch’s essay On the fortune or the virtue of Alexander offers the most idealized portrait of the king’s imperialism. Its laudatory picture of Alexander’s world domination can be regarded as a reference to Roman imperialism.158 In
Alexander in an empire of Romans, Greeks, and Jews 53
Figure 2.1 The Alexander mosaic was found in the House of the Faun in Pompeii. It shows the battle of Issus and underlines Alexander’s martial virtue, widely admired in the Roman world. With the permission of the Ministero dei Beni e delle Attività Culturali e del Turismo – Museo Archeologico Nazionale di Napoli.
this essay, Alexander’s Eastern policy is depicted as a work of a ‘philosopher in arms’, whose intention was to civilize the inhabited world. The king practiced the teachings of the Stoic Zeno on how every nation should be ruled by one regime.159 Plutarch reminds his audience that Alexander did not follow Aristotle’s instruction that non-Greeks should be governed differently than Greeks.160 Plutarch presents Alexander as one who saw himself as a heaven-sent ruler whose aim was to combine and integrate the lives, customs (ἤθη), and lifestyles (διαίτα) of different peoples.161 At the time that Plutarch wrote, the Roman Empire ruled the whole Mediterranean. As we know, the empire bestowed citizenship upon conquered peoples. It was theoretically possible for any individual from any people to become Roman, as long as they adopted its ways of government and had enough money to buy citizenship.162 Romans ruled different parts of the empire differently, using open monarchy in the Eastern provinces and a more disguised monarchy in the Western provinces. Modern-day scholars speak about the Romanization of the Empire as a process by which indigenous people incorporated and acquired cultural attributes that made them appear as Romans.163 Local elites who had different cultural backgrounds, thus adopted styles of art, architecture, town-planning, villa-living, Latin, and accepted the cults of deified emperors.164 Romanization in the Hellenized East was slower and not as far-reaching as in the West.165 Plutarch’s picture of Alexander’s ‘civilizing’ monarchy creates a link between the Roman imperialism of his own day and Alexander’s Hellenizing policy. Rome did in the West (Gaul, Spain, Britain) what Alexander had done in the East. In Plutarch’s highly idealized presentation, Alexander ordered his subjects to consider the whole inhabited world (οἰκουμένη) as his fatherland (πατρίς). In the
54 Alexander in an empire of Romans, Greeks, and Jews Roman world, these terms referred to Roman dominion and its ideal of the communis patria.166 Plutarch wrote that because of Alexander’s policy, the Greeks would not be distinguished by their cloaks, small round shields or kopis-swords, but by their virtues. Also, the practices of dressing, eating, and marriage would be common to all.167 Plutarch states that if Alexander had not died when he did and his reign had continued, every nation would have been governed by one law (νόμος) and all would have all been governed justly. Plutarch’s implication is that the present Roman regime had continued the task that Alexander had planned and started. Alexander’s description as the ‘common light’ refers to his role as the promoter of Hellenism in the Mediterranean world. Plutarch adds that Alexander’s light had not yet reached every continent.168 The statement refers to the Parthian Empire and implicitly states that if Alexander’s reign had lasted, then the Parthian (Persian) Empire would also have been under ‘the light’ in Plutarch’s days. If Plutarch was writing during the reign of Trajan, his expedition against the Parthians provided a direct parallel to Alexander’s mission. Under Trajan’s command, the Roman Empire could follow in Alexander’s footsteps and continue the task of civilizing the barbarians. Plutarch aimed to convince his audience that Roman imperialism was pursuing the same goals as the Macedonian king had. It can be argued that Plutarch’s essay both praised and promoted Roman imperialism and its positive consequences for the whole inhabited world. However, in Plutarch’s patriotic presentation, Roman world domination had Greek origins. The Macedonian king is depicted as Greek and as raised by Greek paideia, whose extraordinary ideas rose above those of the great philosophers (Plato, Aristotle, Zeno), and demonstrates how Rome is indebted to Greece.169 Some fifty years after Plutarch, Greek writers of the Antonine dynasty (138– 193) still associated the history of Alexander with eulogies of the Roman Empire. Polyaenus, who wrote Stratagems of War, promoted his Macedonian background by presenting Alexander as a representative of Macedonian military success/ effectiveness.170 Stratagems of War was composed at the time of the Parthian War of 161–166. This is evident at the beginning of the work: You will surely win the victory against the Persians and Parthians, most sacred emperors Antoninus and Verus, due to the gods, your own excellence, and the Roman’ courage, with which you have always (both long ago and now) been accustomed to win your wars and battles. I, a Macedonian who has inherited the ability to conquer the Persians in war, want to do my part at the present critical time.171 These opening words demonstrate Polyaenus’ willingness both to praise Roman military achievements and maintain the image of a glorious Macedonian history in warfare. Polyaenus tries to exploit his Macedonian background as a guarantee of his knowledge of warfare by referring to Alexander’s victorious Persian campaign. In the above passages Rome’s ongoing war against the Parthians is
Alexander in an empire of Romans, Greeks, and Jews 55 paralleled with Alexander’s war against the Achaemenid Persians, which had taken place about 450 years before. Unsurprisingly, Polyaenus writes about Alexander more than other Greek and Macedonian generals and kings.172 Like Arrian and Plutarch, Polyaenus portrays Alexander as a superior warlord whose success relied on his military virtues. However, Polyaenus presents the king as a Macedonian, without any connotations of Greek culture, linked with the image of the Macedonians as a people resisting the degenerative influence of luxury. In Polyaenus’ last passage concerning Alexander is the story of Alexander reading the bill for the Persian king’s dinner and supper that was engraved on a brass column.173 After Alexander reads this he starts to ridicule the Persian monarch and orders the destruction of the pillar, and says to his friends: In no way did it benefit the kings to be taught to dine so wastefully, for great cowardice must follow such wastefulness and luxuriousness, and you see those who eat such large dinners quickly defeated in battles.174 Alexander rejects luxury and the ostentatious lifestyle of the Persian kings because that would destroy his military virtues in war. Polyaenus intends to stress the glorious past of Macedon, represented as the homeland of military discipline and knowledge. In the Classical world, the Macedonians were famous for their fighting qualities and had a reputation as superior soldiers.175 The writer was aware of this and referred to Alexander with the intention of patriotically presenting himself as a ‘Macedonian’, in other words, as an expert on the art of war at the imperial court. At the same time, Polyaenus presented contemporary Roman military virtues as similar to those of the idealized Macedonian king. Aelius Aristides’ 26th and 27th Orations, written in the later part of the reign of Antoninus Pius (138–161), demonstrate how a Greek orator could associate the career of Alexander with Roman political realities. The 26th Oration, Regarding Rome, composed during Aristides’ second trip to Rome in 155 and delivered before the emperor, lavishly praises Rome’s supremacy and the extension of the Roman peace (pax Romana). First, Aristides writes about the Persian Empire in a critical manner, using the old Greek stereotypical depiction of ancient Persians as despotic and oppressing.176 The rulers of Persian Empire are portrayed as immoderate in their crimes and as ones who despised their followers as slaves and punished free men as enemies.177 Second, after this extremely critical portrait, Aristides takes Alexander’s reign into consideration.178 The central argument is that Alexander did not enjoy his great victories, but died at the moment of completing them. The king was unable to consolidate his empire or to institute laws and to arrange his finances. Aristides presents Alexander as indeed a great king, but as one who did not live to see the fruits of his labors. He writes: Yet [he] enjoyed nothing worthy of his plans and art, but had the same experience as if a contestant in the Olympic Games overcame his opponents and
56 Alexander in an empire of Romans, Greeks, and Jews then died right after his victory before he had well and fairly fitted the crown to his head.179 With these words, Aristides admits Alexander’s greatness as an individual who was not able to conclude his ambitious enterprise. According to Aristides, the only ‘monument worthy of the king’s nature’ was the city of Alexandria. The city is depicted as the greatest city after the capital, which Alexander generously founded for Rome. In the passage, Aristides implicitly says that the Roman Empire provided a continuation for Alexander’s great projects but realized them more successfully.180 The 27th Oration was delivered in Cyzicus, probably at the end of Antoninus Pius’ reign in 161. Antoninus adopted Marcus Aurelius and Lucius Verus as his successors in 138. In the oration, Aristides praises the arrangement of these two emperors as successors for Antoninus and their education. According to Aristides, it was the first time that an emperor had voluntarily taken another emperor as his partner in complete equality.181 In this context, Aristides reminds his audience that Alexander did not accept a partnership with Darius.182 Aristides remarks that Alexander would have not agreed to rule in the company of another, even if his partner had been someone much better than Darius. In this juxtaposition, Antoninus Pius and his adopted co-rulers appear as surpassing Alexander. Aristides writes that they have made their rule a token of the most perfect justice so that they would be teachers of virtue to all men.183 In this case, Aristides’ passage differs from the previous Alexander comparisons dealt with here, in which the king is presented as superior to his Greek and Roman counterparts. The analogy drawn serves both to eulogize the predominant power structure and to establish the speaker himself as a devotee of that distribution of power. In Plutarch’s essay On the fortune or the virtue of Alexander the Great and Polyaenus’ Stratagems of War, it is implied that Roman order represents a continuation of Alexander’s regime and military virtues. In Aristides’ Orations, Roman order is presented as superior to Alexander’s, but Alexander is still a ‘great’ figure, worthy of comparison. The idealized image of the king is not merely a stepping stone to Roman superiority in the present, but an assurance of the writer’s Greek (or Macedonian) status within the Empire. The various Greek comparisons drawn between Alexander and his Greek/ Macedonian or Roman counterparts show that the Greek Roman writers cherished Alexander as an icon and a Greek cultural hero. The discourse on the king’s success, his military abilities, and his ‘wise’ government is extremely eulogistic. In addition to maintaining the indisputable position of Alexander in the Roman world, there appear also to be certain sociopolitical messages motivating this promotion. The Greek Roman writers linked the Romans’ military and sociopolitical accomplishments with those of Alexander. Alexander’s minor role in Polybius’ work can be explained by his lesser role in the Roman political realities of the second century BC. Afterwards, when the Romans conquered the Hellenistic East, they confronted the legacy of Alexander in the Eastern Mediterranean. The Greek Roman writers that came from these areas connected the respect (or sometimes
Alexander in an empire of Romans, Greeks, and Jews 57 even worship) of Alexander to the esteem shown towards the Roman Empire. It seems that the need to present Alexander as a Greek cultural hero became greater when the Greeks were living under Roman rule. Especially when the political situation was stable, and the Roman autocracy had brought relative wealth and prosperity to the local areas in the first and second centuries, the idealized presentation of Alexander became popular. The portrait of Alexander as the greatest leader and king of all times is apparent in the various passages dealt with in this chapter. While Roman Latin writers presented the king as a ruler with serious faults, the Greek Roman writers cherished the image of Alexander as the ultimate hero worthy of imitation. However, this heroic and idealized portrait of Alexander should not to be regarded as a coherent view shared by all Greek Roman authors, but as a rhetorical strategy.184 The production of an idealized image of Alexander underlined the status of the writers as the representatives and guardians of Greek or Macedonian cultural heritage. If an author like Polyaenus wanted to underline his Macedonian background, then Alexander was introduced as a Macedonian conqueror. In the same way, as a Greek patriot Plutarch wrote about Alexander as a Greek. In both cases, the passages shaped and strengthened the Macedonian or Greek cultural identity of a powerful minority and its ruling elites in the Roman world. The Greek Roman writers depicted Alexander’s empire as fully comparable to that created by the Romans. In their texts, Alexander created a continuum between the glorious Greek past and the prevailing Roman present. Many of the Roman emperors, for example Trajan, imitated Alexander and favored Greek culture. This was welcomed by the Roman Greeks. The Greek Roman writers operated within the Roman world and adapted to Roman political realities. Like Alexander’s imperialism, the Roman conquest was justified as benefitting all. Through their idealizing references to Alexander, the Greek authors were also constructing their own identity, ‘us’ (Greeks) in contrast to the ‘other’, the uncivilized inhabitants of the Roman multicultural empire or non-Greeks. In contrast to the Roman Latin authors, Greek Romans portrayed the Macedonian king as ‘our’ Alexander. Alexander’s portrayal as a Greek cultural hero gave the Greeks living under the Roman regime something to identify with. In their texts, Alexander’s greatness was depicted as an aspect of their own greatness.
The political agendas behind Jewish portraits of the king Next, we move to the political rhetoric in the Jewish presentations of Alexander. Previous scholarship has sometimes seen these passages concerning Alexander as either ‘negative/hostile’ or ‘positive’ treatments of the king representing a certain genre in Jewish literature.185 In other cases, scholars write about the legend, memory, and myth of Alexander, or about the image of Alexander in the Jewish tradition which can be considered varied and multifaceted.186 I approach the Jewish literary portraits of Alexander from the perspective of the political messages they intend to transmit. I ask why the presentation of Alexander changes during certain historical periods and how the patriotic demands of the present are linked
58 Alexander in an empire of Romans, Greeks, and Jews with these presentations. Stress is laid on the ways that the past was part of Jewish cultural self-definition and argumentation about certain political agendas. My sources include two writers from different eras and sociopolitical situations, the anonymous writer of the First Book of Maccabees of the second century BC and Flavius Josephus (AD 37 – ca. 100). After Alexander’s conquest, the Ptolemaic kingdom ruled over the Jews of Palestine. Later, in 200 BC, Palestine came under Seleucid rule. This transfer of power led to a greater pressure on Jewish culture to Hellenize. Attempts to deprive the Jews of their religious life led to open revolt. The resistance against Antiochus IV was organized by the priestly family of the Maccabees, and eventually the Seleucid garrison was expelled from Jerusalem in 142 BC. The religious core of Judaism was then protected. The Maccabees established the Hasmonean dynasty, which began to rule Jerusalem and Palestine.187 First Maccabees, first written in Hebrew and then translated into Greek, is about the revolt of the Maccabees and can be considered a patriotic treatment of the events that brought about the rule of the Hasmonean high priests. The work presents the Maccabee dynasty as bringing about Israel’s salvation in the spirit of the biblical past. In the first lines of the work, the writer provides the background for the events that led to the conflict. The writer starts his narrative with a summary of Alexander’s career and his relation to the later Hellenistic monarchs. After Alexander the Macedonian, Philip’s son, who came from the land of Kittim, had defeated Darius, king of the Persians and Medes, he became king in his place, having first ruled in Greece. He fought many battles, captured fortresses, and put kings of the earth to death. He advanced to the ends of the earth, gathering plunder from many nations; the earth fell silent before him, and his heart became proud and arrogant. He collected a very strong army and won dominion over provinces, nations, and rulers, and they paid him tribute. But after all this he took to his bed, realizing that he was going to die. So he summoned his noblest officers, who had been brought up with him from his youth, and divided his kingdom among them while he was still alive. Alexander had reigned twelve years when he died. So his officers took over his kingdom, each in his own territory, and after his death they all put on diadems, and so did their sons after them for many years, multiplying evils on earth. There sprang from these a sinful offshoot, Antiochus Epiphanes, son of King Antiochus, once a hostage at Rome.188 This summary of Alexander’s career reflects the author’s ideological aims and political messages. Alexander’s actions as a monarch and conqueror are described in a critical tone and the theme of the degeneration of the king appears in the text. According to the passage, Alexander “slew189 the kings of the earth” and “gathered plunder from many nations.” Accordingly, Alexander’s “heart became proud and arrogant.” This expression resembles that found in the Book of Daniel, which depicts Alexander as a he-goat who was ‘puffed-up’.190
Alexander in an empire of Romans, Greeks, and Jews 59 One reason for this critical presentation is the link between Alexander’s actions and the later reign of Antiochus IV. Later in the narrative, it is Antiochus who attacks Jerusalem, after having defeated the forces of Ptolemy and plundered the land of Egypt. The writer demonstrates that Antiochus took the spoils of Jerusalem, entered the sanctuary, and after that spoke very proudly.191 It can thus be argued that Alexander is depicted as the precursor of Antiochus IV, one who set in train a series of negative events that culminated in his reign. On the other hand, the passage presents Alexander as a ‘legitimate’ king, the son of Philip of Macedon, who first reigned over Greece and then overthrew Darius. The writer characterizes Alexander’s Successors as lesser men. These servants of Alexander “made themselves kings” and “put crowns upon themselves after his death, and their sons after them, for many years.” This wording questions the validity of the regimes of Alexander’s Successors and their moral abilities. The overall critical depiction of the Hellenistic kingdoms becomes clear in the line where the author states that “evils were multiplied on the earth.” In the next passage (1.11), the writer of 1 Maccabees adds that certain Jewish renegades encouraged others to take up a covenant with the Gentiles. In the narrative, the ‘rising evils’ were caused by the Gentiles and those Jews that made a covenant with them.192 The reference pointed to those members of the Judean elite who were ready to adopt Greek culture, such as the gymnasium, in Jerusalem.193 Alexander’s conquests were characterized as harmful because they furthered the development of these ‘evils’. The situation after Alexander’s reign became much worse and the degeneration reached its peak during the reign of Antiochus IV. The political situation in the days of the revolt was so bad that it was fully justified to revolt against such oppression. For the writer, the critical treatment of Alexander was necessary because it was he who brought about the historical change that finally led to the episode in which Antiochus began his Hellenizing policy. The passage contains a critique of Alexander’s imperialism and the rule of the Hellenistic monarchs. The political message was that the audience of the present should remember the value of ‘freedom’ and continue to make efforts against oppressors in the future. Instead of seeing the summary as a negative view of Alexander we should consider the passage a political proclamation: in other words, a portrait of the Jewish past intended to explain and eulogize the Maccabean revolt. Two centuries later Josephus, a Jewish aristocrat enjoying the favor of the Flavians, wrote his works from the opposite sociopolitical perspective. As a result of Pompey’s campaign in 63 BC, the century of Hasmonean rule had come to an end and direct Roman rule had started in Palestine. During that time, the Roman Empire made interventions in the Judean province, even though the Idumean Herods were appointed as its client kings. In the second half of the first century, the Jews in Palestine rebelled against the Romans.194 During the great revolt of 66–70, Jewish resistance was brutally crushed by the Romans. The city of Jerusalem and its temple were burnt down, and according to Josephus, 1,100,000 Jews were killed.195
60 Alexander in an empire of Romans, Greeks, and Jews During the great revolt, Josephus, who had been serving in the Jewish armies as the leader of the revolt in Galilee, won the confidence of the Roman generals and changed sides.196 After the revolt of 66–70, Josephus left for Rome together with Titus and was welcomed by Emperor Vespasian, who arranged for him to live in his former house. There is no evidence that Josephus returned to his homeland under Domitian.197 After the destruction of Jerusalem and its temple, Josephus became a member of the Jewish diaspora.198 In addition, Josephus became a representative of traditional Judaism and defended it in his writings.199 His general aim was to offer an apologetic picture of the Jewish people and its past to a mainly non-Jewish audience.200 Unsurprisingly therefore, the past attached to Alexander was utilized in his writings to support and defend the position of the Jewish people and its special character under the Roman Empire. The important task for Josephus was to relate the history of the Jewish people to the grand scheme of the great Greco-Roman histories. The image of Alexander in the Jewish Antiquities, written under Domitian probably sometime between the years 93 and 94, relates to Josephus’ ideological aims.201 The work deals with the period of Alexander’s conquest and the incidents that took place in Palestine at the time. Josephus’ handling of Alexander’s visit to Jerusalem has received considerable attention in modern studies. Earlier research has been interested in the question of what Josephus’ sources were and in the historicity of the incident.202 Even though the ideological dimension of the story has been recognized, the use of the story in Josephus’ work has not been the object of scholarly treatment.203 The account of Alexander’s visit favors normative Judaic ideology.204 Accordingly, it develops the theme of a ‘unique character’ for the Jewish people as ‘us’ as opposed to the non-Jews, represented as the ‘other’. In addition, the alleged visit was introduced as a proof of the Jews’ special place among other peoples and was a defense of their rights. According to his interpretation of the situation, previously expressed in the Hebrew Bible, the enemies of the Jewish nation were a menace to the practices of Judaism. The threat appears under the guise of introducing ‘mutual society’ and rivaling ‘temple-order’.205 In the narrative, the enemies of the Jewish people arose both from the ranks of the Persian officials and the Jewish upper class. In Josephus’ text, Darius III’s satrap Sanballat offered an alliance to Manasseh, the brother of the high priest Jaddua, by marrying his daughter. The elders of Jerusalem were against the marriage, since it would lead to a ‘mutual society’ in which Jews would marry wives from other countries.206 In addition, Sanballat promised Manasseh that he would, with Darius’ permission, build a temple like the one in Jerusalem on Mount Gerizim. According to Josephus, some priests and Levites opposed the suggestion, but Sanballat offered money and land in return.207 From the perspective of normative Judaism, the course of events became alarming, since the only accepted place for a temple and the worship of God was the temple of Jerusalem. Alexander comes into the story both as one who threatened to introduce a mutual society and as an implementer of a rival temple system. The high priest of Jerusalem, Jaddua, had rejected Alexander’s request to send him provisions and taxes that had formerly been sent as tribute to Darius. The reply strongly
Alexander in an empire of Romans, Greeks, and Jews 61 angered the king, who stated that he would march against the high priest and teach him whom to serve.208 In addition, Josephus explains that while Alexander was besieging the city of Tyre, Sanballat left Darius’ side, “believing that he had a favorable opportunity for his design”, and came to Alexander. After the king received him into his friendship, Sanballat gave reasons why it was beneficial to build a temple in the territory under his control.209 The theme of the spiteful people who wished to destroy their neighboring Judeans appears in Josephus’ Alexander passage. The evil forces trying to remove or destroy the Jews are already an important theme in the biblical books of Esther and Ezra.210 According to Josephus, Phoenicians and Chaldeans accompanied Alexander with the intention of freely plundering the city of Jerusalem and tormenting the high priest to death.211 However, from the standpoint of the Jews, the final result was a great success. Sanballat died and Alexander treated the Jews kindly after meeting the high priest. In Josephus’ narrative, Alexander is presented as the great defender of normative Judaism. The anticipated evil and fears of the enemies of the Jewish nation prove to be false, when Alexander unexpectedly permits the Jews to enjoy the laws of their forefathers and permits them not to pay the tribute of the seventh year.212 The Jews, not only those living in Jerusalem but also those living in Babylon and Media, are granted their own laws. Alexander promises that any Jew who joins the army can keep his laws and live according to them. The consequence of this appeal was that many of the Jews were ready to accompany Alexander in his wars.213 In the Jewish Antiquities, Alexander is not the only Gentile king to respect the practices of Judaism, acknowledge the God of the Jews, and bestow rights and privileges upon them.214 In the Jewish tradition, God protects and punishes his people and appoints and removes kings.215 These rulers, like Alexander, serve as instruments of propaganda in Josephus’ text. Since so many well-known and respected rulers, including Alexander the Great, respected Jews and their religious rights, the Roman rulers should also practice a pro-Jewish policy. The Jewish Antiquities was composed in the period of Domitian, an emperor hostile to the Jews and Judaism.216 In this context, Alexander is a Gentile leader worthy of imitation, a useful point of reference for showing how rulers should treat Jews in the present. The passage concerning Alexander’s visit offers an image of the Samaritans that suits the basic ideas of normative Judaism.217 Josephus’ view of the Samaritans was ambivalent: at times he referred to them as utterly distinct from the Jews and at other times regarded them as a variety of Jew.218 In the narrative of Alexander’s visit to Jerusalem, the Samaritans are depicted as opportunists and apostates from the Jewish nation, who petitioned the king for freedom from the tribute of the seventh year.219 The king asked who they were and they answered that they were Hebrews, but had the name of Sidonians, living at Shechem. When Alexander heard this, he informed them that the privilege was addressed to the Jews. Nevertheless, Alexander left the question open and promised to inform them on the matter when he came back. In other words, the king is presented as an impartial
62 Alexander in an empire of Romans, Greeks, and Jews and external judge, who confirms an ethnic order according to the accepted views of normative Judaism and its anti-Samaritanism. For Josephus, the king’s alleged reply was a vehicle for defining the Jews as a special nation different from others and worthy of special status under the Roman Empire. Josephus’ Jewish Antiquities was an apologetic work addressed to a Gentile audience.220 Incorporating Alexander’s history into the common Jewish history had great value, of course. His Roman audience was about to learn how great a people the Jews were, and above all, to learn that the Jews had also previously enjoyed a privileged status during the reign of Alexander. The temple of Jerusalem itself was an essential feature of traditional Judaism. Before its destruction and the diaspora, the Jews had made regular contributions towards keeping the temple and its sacrifices.221 The reaction towards the destruction was grief, penitence for the sins that must have brought about the catastrophe, and hope for a speedy rebuilding.222 On the other hand, the status of the Jewish nation often varied. Jews were temporary expelled from the city of Rome during the first century.223 After the great revolt (66–70), in addition to the Arch of Titus, Rome was transformed with reminders of the Flavian victory over the Jews. Several coins depicted Judaea Capta and the state imposed an annual tax of two denarii per Jewish individual.224 These developments took place during the reign of Domitian. In this sociopolitical context, Josephus’ treatment of Alexander as the protector of normative Judaism was, from the perspective of the Jews, a welcome addition to their ‘grand story’. Defending the rights of the Jewish nation and presenting them in a favorable light with the image of a pro-Jewish Alexander is clearly also the intention of Josephus’ Against Apion. This work consisted of an apologia for Judaism in two books, especially intended as a response to the anti-Semitic writers who wrote from the third century BC to the time of Apion. The work itself was most likely written under Nerva (96–98), when there was stronger Jewish optimism and the encomium of Jews and Judaism had grown.225 The Against Apion was especially directed at those who did not believe his former accounts of the state of the Jewish people.226 In the second part of the work, Josephus deals with the charges laid upon Alexandrian Jews by Apion. These include the accusation that Alexandrian Jews had gained the part of the city in which they lived by force and kept it without impeachment.227 The Alexandrian Jews lived in the Jewish Quarter under a Jewish council and law, and the most serious riots erupted against the Jews in 38 BC during the reign of Caligula.228 In the narrative, Josephus fights for his fellow Jews and tries to prove that Alexandrian Jews have a long-standing right to live in that area of the city, dating from the days of its foundation.229 By doing so he is making a claim that their special status there cannot be taken away from them. In the passage, Josephus writes several times that it was Alexander himself who had given them that place to inhabit and that this happened when the king awarded the same privileges to the Jews as to the Macedonians.230 Josephus mentions the epistles of King Alexander and Ptolemy the son of Lagus as additional evidence against Apion. Josephus claims that Alexander did not want to populate the city
Alexander in an empire of Romans, Greeks, and Jews 63 of Alexandria with Jews because he needed inhabitants, but rather allowed them to live there as a reward, for he had found all of them to be men of virtue and fidelity.231 In the passage, Josephus utilizes Alexander’s legacy, which, of course, had enormous prestige among the Alexandrians, as he was the city’s founder. Since Alexander the Great, the founder of the city, gave the Jews legal rights, no one should try to remove these privileges. This supposed history of Alexander was to prove that Jews had acted as loyal subjects and received recognition for their moral conduct. This presentation was welcome to the Jews, since Josephus was writing after the revolt of 66–70, when the Jewish people had proved not to be loyal subjects of Rome. Explaining that Jews had shown the ability to act in accordance with foreign rule in the past was reassurance for the Roman audience. In defending the rights of the Jewish people, Josephus intended to prove the reliability of the Jewish literary tradition before a Gentile audience. His flexible use of Alexander’s legacy becomes evident in the Jewish Antiquities, where he considers the famous biblical event of how the Red Sea was divided before Moses, and how God himself destroyed the armies of Egypt and brought deliverance to the Israelites. In Josephus’ text, the episode is paired with the tradition concerning Alexander and his army miraculously crossing the Pamphylian coast as ‘proof’ of its truthfulness.232 After providing a long account of the great deliverance of the Israelites, Josephus states that he has only recounted each detail just as he found it in the sacred books.233 In other words, he wants to reassure his audience that he has not invented the story. Josephus writes that no one should marvel or doubt that the sea parted and offered a passage to Moses when Alexander and his men also beheld the sea receding along the Pamphylian coast. According to Josephus, it occurred either by the will of God or by accident.234 Josephus reminds his readership that the ‘men of old’ (ἀρχαίοι ἄνθρωποι) who reported these stories in their histories were ‘innocent of crime’ (πονηρίας ἀπείροις). In Josephus’ rhetoric, all past historians agree that the event occurred and these writers were to be taken seriously since they have a good reputation. After referring to Alexander’s passage along the Pamphylian coast, Josephus adds that anyone has a right to form their own opinions on the matter. The remark is evidently a rhetorical trick. Josephus knew there were critics who suspected the authenticity of the episode involving Moses’ division of the Red Sea. Josephus paralleled the incident with the Greek historians’ famous account of the sea receding for Alexander, thus showing that the Jewish tradition included nothing uncommon or strange. On the grounds of this testimony, his audience could approve the historicity of the miraculous event and accept his narrative as a genuine and truthful description. In other words, a story of great importance for Jewish identity was marketed by using a well-known episode of Classical history. In Josephus’ passage, the history of Alexander was employed to support the credibility of the Jewish tradition. The past as a vehicle for exploring the sociopolitical situation in the present was an important element in the passages examined in this subchapter. The
64 Alexander in an empire of Romans, Greeks, and Jews demands of the present culminated in the hopes and strivings of the members of the Jewish elite. In the time of the Maccabees, the Jews had achieved autonomy (at least at some level) from the Seleucid regime. A patriotic story of victory and freedom from oppression was important for the common Jewish identity. Narratives of the era became one means to master the present political realities. The writer of 1 Maccabees deliberately did not portray the rule of Alexander and the later Hellenistic kings as positive.235 The pro-Maccabean portrait of the rebellion highlighted the wrongs of Greek rule. Foreign rule was depicted in wholly negative terms so that the audience of the present would remember the importance of liberty and autonomy. In contrast, while Josephus wrote about both the remote and the immediate Jewish past, Roman rule had become established with no foreseeable chance of throwing it off. It was Josephus’ task to retell the story of the Jewish people in a way that would improve the status of the Jews in the Roman Empire ruled by the Flavians and their successors. Josephus’ use of Alexander was adjusted to promote his political agendas and to construct a favorable image of normative Judaism and its importance. According to Josephus the Jews formed a unique nation with heroes like Moses, which was not to be contaminated by mixture with the culture of other nations. Historically, there were both tolerant foreign rulers and fierce enemies and oppressors of the Jewish people. Yet the Jews coped with these difficult situations. The political message contained in Josephus’ text was that the place of the Jewish minority ought to be defended, with the hope of restoring some of its lost liberties. The image of Alexander changed according to the different demands of time, place, and rhetorical strategy. The writer of 1 Maccabees offered a ‘critical’ presentation of Alexander’s regime. His depiction of the Macedonian king as a ‘bearer of destruction’ was an element in the anti-Greek rhetoric that was aimed to support recent Jewish autonomy. In contrast, Josephus, being aware of Alexander’s iconic position for both the Romans and the Greeks, chose a different rhetorical strategy. In his writings, we see Alexander’s ‘positive’ legacy exploited as a proof for his arguments. On the basis of these two writers and their texts, it would be hard to claim that they represent a Jewish opinion on Alexander characteristic of a certain period. Instead, they should each be regarded as part of a political rhetoric created in a particular time and place.
Supporting the Imperial policy in the Later Empire My next task is to study the political rhetoric of Late Antiquity and the role of historical exempla. The figure of Alexander does not disappear from the political realities of the fourth and fifth century. We often encounter Alexander as an historical exemplum in the panegyrics delivered to Roman emperors. I ask whether the passages on Alexander were intended to create an idealizing portrait of contemporary Imperial politics and of the emperor himself. My sources include Latin and Greek panegyrics directed to emperors like Maximian, Constantine, and Theodosius. In addition, I investigate passages portraying recently ended or ongoing military conflicts: the Panegyric to Constantine and Alexander’s Itinerary (Itinerarium Alexandri), both composed by an anonymous writer, the poem
Alexander in an empire of Romans, Greeks, and Jews 65 of Claudian in honor of Stilicho’s consulship, and a passage by Procopius written about Justinian’s Persian campaigns. In this subchapter, I also ask whether the political uses of Alexander changed or remained similar to the texts of the Early Empire. In Roman political history, the reign of Diocletian (284–305) saw the re-establishment of political, military, and economic stability after half a century of chaos. The price of this stability was absolute monarchy, with a greatly expanded army and bureaucracy.236 In this political climate, the genres of Imperial epideictic oratory and prose panegyrics flourished.237 Panegyrics were display pieces, celebrating Imperial anniversaries, birthdays, marriages, military victories, and political coups. In addition, these works were delivered before the emperor himself, courtiers, and Imperial officials for grand occasions at court.238 The speakers and composers of the panegyrics were professionals and students of rhetoric who wrote their works to suit the particular occasion at which they were delivered. The Imperial panegyrics of the Later Empire were eulogizing in their content. They praised the emperor’s character: ancestral, ethnic, familial, religious, moral, civic, military, and physical virtues were all lauded.239 The ruler was expected to display the four cardinal virtues (justice, temperance, bravery, foresight). The orator’s strategy consisted not only of listing imperial virtues, but also of praising and emphasizing them through historical exempla. Orators usually referred to exempla in the form of comparisons or analogies drawing comparisons between the addressee and his predecessor or illustrious kings of the past like Alexander. The Imperial panegyrics were propagandistic compositions.240 According to MacCormack they were all used as a medium for announcing Imperial programs and policies. She calls them “an instrument of political propaganda.”241 However, the orators and their speeches should not be considered only as political propaganda of the court. We have to remember the private inspiration of the authors, who composed their works with the aim of gaining personal favors.242 In previous research, the role of historical exempla in Imperial panegyrics has been acknowledged.243 However, scholarly interest has focused on how the orators followed rhetorical handbooks in matters of form and style.244 The use of figures like Alexander as exempla in Imperial propaganda has not been the object of research in and of itself, nor has its use in attempts to curry favor with the emperor been studied in detail. In a way, the texts of Late Antiquity that follow portray the Macedonian king as the predecessor of the Roman emperors, finding both similarities and differences between him and his Roman counterparts. Comparatio Alexandri is a tool the authors use when making their claims in the present. The attributes linked to Alexander reflected contemporary politics and Imperial propaganda. In the Panegyric of Maximian, the Macedonian king is presented as “the most famous descendant of Hercules.” In the passage below, Imperial propaganda and the recent success of Maximian are connected to the figure of Herculean Alexander: Yet you see, Emperor, that I cannot find anything with which to compare you in all antiquity unless it be the example of the race of Heracles, for even
66 Alexander in an empire of Romans, Greeks, and Jews Alexander the Great now seems insignificant to me for restoring his realm to the Indian king when so many kings, O Emperor, are your clients, when Gennoboudes recovered his kingdom, thanks to you, indeed received it from you as gift.245 The panegyric was delivered on Rome’s birthday, April 21, probably in the year 291.246 In 286 or 287, a new imperial collegiality had already emerged when Diocletian and Maximian used the adjectival epithets Iovius (‘of Jupiter’) and Herculius (‘of Hercules’).247 It is possible that Maximian attended the speech in person.248 The writer of the Panegyric of Maximian was aware of this propagandistic program, and deliberately supported that official presentation. In many passages he praised Maximian as the representative of Hercules.249 In the Classical tradition, Alexander was the most famous descendant of Heracles on his father Philip’s side.250 Thus, not surprisingly, the orator referred to Alexander and his illustrious lineage. The comparison between Alexander and Maximian is presented as an orator’s personal observation. The reference to Alexander’s lineage was intended to please the audience and depict the Imperial order as ideal. In the panegyric, Maximian is the pacifier of the Roman frontier. Here he bears a similarity to Heracles, who brought order in mythological times. Not even Alexander’s achievements, such as “restoring his realm to the Indian king”, can match the achievements of Maximian. According to the well-known tradition, after the fierce battle of the Hydaspes in northern India, Porus became a vassal king to Alexander and retained his kingdom.251 In the present passage Alexander had turned only Porus (‘the Indian king’) from enemy to client, but Maximian has made many kings his clients. The sentence refers to Diocletian and Maximian’s victory over the Frankish king, Gennoboudes, who became their client king. The idealized picture of the emperor displaying more Herculean characteristics than Alexander was a welcome addition to the Imperial propaganda of the co-ruling emperors. The comparison between Alexander’s and Maximians’s treatment of Porus and Gennoboudes, respectively, extols Roman imperialism. Romans can defeat their enemies not only militarily but also diplomatically – making several of their former enemies their allies, and portray it as a gift to their clients. In other words, according to the impression given by the court rhetoric, Maximian could have destroyed their former enemies but decided to find a more peaceful solution. The use of Alexander’s treatment of Porus appears also in Themistius’ Oration addressed to Theodosius (347–395).252 Themistius’ Oration was composed in January 381, while the Gothic War was still raging, yet it does not depict Theodosius as the triumphant conqueror of the barbarians with all possible military virtues.253 Instead, it concentrates on Theodosius’ qualities as a bringer of good civilian government to the Eastern Empire. The presentation of the emperor as a civilized protector and as a man of rational order is evident in the passage where Theodosius is compared to Alexander: The very sight of you is enough to dispel all fear from the spirit. So even he who was among your enemies, long scorning your truce, and out of suspicion
Alexander in an empire of Romans, Greeks, and Jews 67 not daring to share your table readily, now approaches unarmed and without his sword, giving himself to be treated howsoever you wish, knowing that you will not want to treat him as an enemy, but as Alexander treated Porus the Indian, Artaxerxes Themistocles the Athenian, and the Romans Masinissa the Libyan.254 The passage was composed to support the propagandistic idea that many Goths had transferred their allegiance to Rome. In the following passage, Themistius refers to an incident in which the Getic chieftain Athanaric had surrendered to Theodosius in Constantinople on January 11, 381. The passage is filled with praise for Theodosius’ ability to reach a solution by peaceful means. Alexander’s treatment of Porus is linked to Theodosius’ peaceful victory over Athanaric. As in the Panegyric of Maximian the passage creates an image of ‘us’ Romans as people who can achieve victories through both military and diplomatic means. Similarly, as in the portrait of the Herculean and Alexander-like Maximian, in the Panegyric of Constantine, probably delivered at Trier in 310 by an anonymous writer, the attributes attached to Alexander suit the imperial self-image that Constantine promoted in that period.255 In the panegyric the writer refers to ‘that great Macedonian king’ (talem Macetum illum regem) who is depicted as resembling Constantine. Alexander’s depiction as a young, promising conqueror with his beautiful and youthful appearance served to stress Constantine’s bravery and military ability.256 At the time when the speech was delivered, Constantine was 38 years old, but still the writer depicts the emperor’s appearance as ‘youthful’ and implies that his future is filled with promise. These references might indicate that the anonymous writer knew that Constantine had ambitious plans. Scholars have debated whether the writer of the oration was aware of Constantine’s desire to become sole ruler or not.257 However, the reference to young Alexander was naturally a suggestion that great accomplishments were to be expected. The chosen reference to the past idealized Constantine’s military virtues. As shown above, Imperial programs and related propaganda were familiar to the panegyrics’ authors, and their choices of historical exempla related to the contemporary sociopolitical situation. In the following section, I discuss passages comparing Alexander’s wars to Imperial campaigns and examine how these comparisons legitimize or idealize recent or ongoing conflicts. The Panegyric of Constantine Augustus deals with Constantine’s civil war against Maxentius, while other texts analyzed in this subchapter depict Roman wars against the Persians or other barbarian nations. The Panegyric of Constantine Augustus, composed by an anonymous writer, was delivered soon after Constantine’s victory over the armies of Maxentius at the Milvian Bridge. Its date cannot be earlier than 313.258 In this propagandistic speech, the orator deliberately juxtaposes Constantine and Maxentius. Constantine respected his father, showed clemency, and was devoted to a single spouse and divine direction, while Maxentius was marked by false paternity and disrespect, showed cruelty, gave in to lust, carried out all sorts of shameful acts, and got involved in superstitious mischief.259 Maxentius is depicted as an ‘evil’ ruler with many crimes and vices, who therefore deserved to be destroyed. The senate of Rome deserved to be liberated from this evil rule by Constantine.
68 Alexander in an empire of Romans, Greeks, and Jews In the narrative, Constantine’s war against Maxentius is described as an unequal contest, in which “the better cause could not but win.” It was a battle in which “Justice was fighting for the emperor” even though Maxentius mustered huge forces.260 The orator depicts the war as a dazzling military achievement by comparing Constantine’s war against Maxentius with Alexander’s famous Persian campaign.261 In the panegyric, Alexander’s famous achievements are described as the outcome of a single battle.262 In addition, it was a battle against weak and effeminate opponents. The orator calls Alexander’s enemies ‘weak Medes’ (leves Medos), ‘unwarlike Syrians’ (imbelles Syros), ‘the Parthians’ flighty arms’ (Parthorum arma volatica), and Asians desirous of a change of servitude. These negative images follow old Greek stereotypes about the Medes and Persians which had appeared frequently in Greco-Roman literature. The comparison resembles those we find in Livy’s Alexander digression, suggesting that the writer might have taken Livy’s text as a model.263 The author of the panegyric belittles Alexander’s military success because it was accomplished against weak opponents. Unlike Alexander, Constantine had fought against an army composed of real soldiers armed with high-quality weapons. Maxentius’ soldiers were Romans and because of their consciousness of wrongdoing, they were prepared to face death rather than surrender.264 By portraying Alexander’s Eastern opponents as weak, and by praising the bravery of Maxentius’ troops, the speaker constructs an image of the Romans as the military nation par excellence in an attempt to heal the wounds of the civil war.265 Even if they fight on the ‘wrong side’, the Romans are always the fiercest and most difficult enemies on the battlefield. It is impossible to say how much the Imperial court had influenced the speech’s content, or how many personal aspirations it contained. The author obviously tried to make a positive impression on the emperor. At the beginning of the work, the speaker states that “amid the thundering sounds of fluent speakers my slender voice appears to have been heard as well.”266 The experienced orator wanted to maintain his position and possibly strengthen it by delivering this speech. Here, he uses Alexander’s campaign to glorify Constantine’s military virtues and celebrate his recent success. The hyperbole idealizes his victory over Maxentius and depicts it as a great victory superior to those of Alexander. In Alexander’s Itinerary, we can see how Alexander’s Persian campaign was used to support the ideology of an ongoing war.267 In this work, the Roman campaign against the Persian Sassanid Empire is paralleled with Alexander’s Persian expedition. The original volume, composed for the young Constantius II (317–361) sometime between 338 and 340 by an anonymous writer, contained a summary of Alexander’s and Trajan’s Eastern campaigns.268 It aimed to justify, motivate and eulogize Constantius’ planned war against the Sassanids. Only the section concerning Alexander has survived almost in its entirety. At the beginning of the work, the author states that he was interested in the close resemblance between the expeditions of Alexander, Trajan, and Constantius. He has composed his work, he declares, with the “practical purpose” of giving “useful instruction”,
Alexander in an empire of Romans, Greeks, and Jews 69 and used plain and simple diction as his purpose was not primarily entertainment or eloquence.269 Nevertheless, we can see how the writer, as well as trying to ‘instruct’, used the past to legitimize Constantius’ Persian expedition. Constantine was preparing a major campaign against the Persian Sassanid Empire when he died in May 337.270 His son Constantius II inherited the war, although it probably started after the enemy broke the peace. The war lasted from 337 to 350. Constantius seems to have rejected the overambitious plan of conquering Persia and was content to conduct a defensive war. Alexander’s Itinerary was written in the early stages of his war and includes direct references to Constantius’ inherited task.271 In the foreword to the work the anonymous writer gives justifications for the expedition of conquest and holds out hopes for its great success. By drawing favorable comparisons between Alexander and Constantius, the writer idealizes the emperor and his anticipated expedition. The writer directs his words to Emperor Constantius himself: For you are now the same age as he [Alexander], while you possess the military judgement of the other [most likely referring to Trajan], through which you are able to surpass your own youth. For the present, then, you will be considered equal to Alexander; he had the cognomen ‘Great’, while you are in fact the son of the ‘Greatest’; you were born in almost the same part of the world as he was, and it is into the same region that you lead your army, which is equal to his in number of soldiers, although better trained.272 Alexander’s Persian expedition is depicted as the precursor to the present war. Constantius was born in the city of Sirmium, in modern-day Serbia, which belonged to the province of Pannonia Inferior. In the author’s argumentation that is near the city of Pella in Macedonia where Alexander was born. In addition, they both are fighting against their enemies at the same age and in the same lands. However, Roman troops are to be considered superior to the Macedonian phalanx. Alexander’s greatness is presented as conditional, whereas the legacy of Constantine is indisputable. The optimistic tone continues in the same passage: Thus far you are clearly cast in the same mold as he, though you deserve greater fortune in the end – if indeed your guardian god is ready to hear prayers conceived in righteousness and moderation rather than to favor rapacious acts of imprudent arrogance perpetrated by those of savage conduct. Alexander boasted that he had conquered solely for his own benefit and became more violent to his friends who lacked the fruits of victory as his success increased; he died in a state of drunkenness. You, by contrast, will be fighting for the security of Rome, destined soon to rival him in empire at a time of life equal to his; and for this, immortal glory shall be yours.273 The differences between the emperor and Alexander flatter Constantius and indicate why the expedition will reap enormous benefits for the whole Empire. The motivations behind Constantius’ campaign are more ‘pious’ than those behind
70 Alexander in an empire of Romans, Greeks, and Jews Alexander’s, since the emperor is not fighting merely for his own glory but for the safety of Rome and the collective benefit of her people. The references to the ‘guardian god’ to whom the emperor prays in ‘righteousness’ and in ‘moderation’ is almost certainly an allusion to Constantius serving the Christian God while Alexander worshipped the pagan gods.274 The similarities and differences between Alexander, the great subjugator of the Persians, and Constantius are presented as proof that the expedition will end in a victory at least as glorious as Alexander’s. The author most probably knew the emperor and was trying to achieve a favorable position in the court through these favorable comparisons. If some individuals passively resisted the Persian expedition, at the time of both Constantine and Constantius, Alexander’s Itinerary transmitted the political message that a major expedition was justified.275 The history of Alexander, the great conqueror of Persia, was intended to convince the author’s contemporaries that Constantius would succeed in similar manner. The passage above shows how Alexander became an object of comparison and analogy as the Roman Empire fought against the Persian Empire.276 We know that Constantius ordered himself depicted as a novus Alexander in coinage.277 It is possible that the writer of Alexander’s Itinerary adjusted his work according to Constantius’ self-representation. A few years later, Julian, another ‘Alexander’, prepared a massive campaign against the Sassanid Empire. This operation against an Eastern enemy was also compared to Alexander’s Persian campaign. The Greek orator Libanius compared Alexander’s expedition to Julian’s Persian expedition in the 15th Oration, The Embassy to Julian delivered after Julian’s departure on the Persian campaign. The speech’s central purpose was to ask the emperor to again take up residence in Antioch during the winter after returning from the Persian campaign.278 The opening lines allude to the current Persian expedition. After referring to verses of the Iliad, Libanius mentions the Trojan War, the Persian wars, and Alexander’s campaign: Events before the Trojan War, that ten-year struggle itself, the naval achievements of the Greeks against the ancestor of the present king of Persia, the deeds of Alexander in his attack upon them after their liberation – nothing of these exercises the imagination or the voice of any man. Everyone rejects all this as so much triviality, clings to the present, and delights to hear or tell of your daring, your invasion, your crossing, of battle casualties, of ambush, stratagem and affray.279 Libanius was himself of Greek origin and, as a former teacher of the emperor, was aware of Julian’s philhellenism. In this portrait, the Romans, led by Julian, fight against the Eastern barbarian enemy for freedom and justice in the tradition of the great wars between West and East. In Julian’s propaganda for the Persian campaign, the figure of Alexander was important. In previous research, Julian’s actions, and especially his Persian expedition, have often been seen as a mark of adoration for – or even an obsession with – Alexander.280 It is possible
Alexander in an empire of Romans, Greeks, and Jews 71 that Libanius knew that Julian compared his expedition to Alexander’s expedition, and therefore portrayed Alexander as Julian’s predecessor, while depicting Darius’ Persian Empire as the precursor of the contemporary Sassanid Empire. As in the case of Alexander’s Itinerary, the ongoing expedition against Sassanid Persia is portrayed optimistically and predicted to result in a great success. Interestingly, Late Antique authors followed the old topos already seen in Livy (cf. pages 31–38), in which authors portrayed Alexander as inferior to his Roman counterpart.281 In the passages cited above, the Romans depict themselves as the successors of the Greeks and Alexander fighting uncivilized barbarians. This juxtaposition is created through an image of valiant Roman armies and their emperor fighting fiercely against bad and wretched barbarian hordes led by morally inferior leaders. The same setting can be recognized in Claudian’s (370–404) On Stilicho’s consulship, written some 40 years later, which idealizes and extols the recent war with references to Alexander’s campaign against Porus. Claudian’s work was composed when the Roman world was ruled by Arcadius (395–408) and Honorius (384–423), the sons of Theodosius. In the Western Empire, Stilicho as a magister utriusque militiae guided the young Honorius.282 Claudian was a non-Christian and a professional poet, an Egyptian from Alexandria. In his works, he often justified and extolled Stilicho’s policies and actions.283 Alan Cameron describes Claudian as Stilicho’s ‘official propagandist’ during the years 396–404.284 As in the other passages analyzed in this subchapter, the contemporary political situation affected the way in which the recent war was depicted by Claudian. This becomes evident in the way that the victory over Gildo285 is presented in The War against Gildo and On Stilicho’s consulship I. The victory was achieved by Gildo’s brother Mascezel, who led the expedition in 398, while Stilicho himself did not take part in the campaign. The war itself was problematical since Arcadius, the Augustus of the Eastern Empire, had previously supported Gildo.286 Claudian’s The War against Gildo, written immediately after the war in 398, does not lavishly praise the Roman victory over Gildo: rather, it depicts the Moorish leader and his troops as cowardly and untrained. In addition, the work does not mention Gildo’s Roman auxiliary troops. The denigratory tone of the text can be explained by the fact that the operation was carried out by armies led by Mascezel and not Stilicho. A couple of years later, in 400 in Rome, Claudian offered a very different assessment of the war against Gildo in his panegyric On Stilicho’s consulship I.287 By that time, the political situation had radically changed. Mascezel had been killed and Honorius’ authority as the emperor of the Western Empire had been re-established. Stilicho was at the height of his power and prestige and seemed to enjoy the support of the Theodosian officials. In this context, Claudian prepared a panegyric praising Stilicho but with little concern for the facts.288 Claudian’s On Stilicho’s consulship I depicts the victory over Gildo as an epic battle led by Stilicho himself against enormous and wild Moorish armies, but does not mention Gildo’s Roman auxiliary troops. It gives an apocalyptic picture of Gildo’s troops as innumerable and extremely dangerous.
72 Alexander in an empire of Romans, Greeks, and Jews Referring to Achilles’ illustrious victory against Memnon and to Alexander’s against Porus, Claudian offers a ‘new’ propagandistic picture of the war: Not so fearful was Ganges when Porus approached, mounted on his towering elephant and surrounded with his far-shooting Indian soldiery. Yet Porus was defeated by Alexander, Memnon by Achilles, and Gildo by thee.289 In this presentation, Alexander, Achilles, and Stilicho are placed on the same level while Porus, Memnon, and Gildo are represented as famous losers. In the idealizing presentation, Stilicho’s leadership and the war are glorified as superior to the expeditions of the others, and Gildo’s troops are more frightening and dangerous than the enemies that Alexander encountered. There is no mention of Mascezel, but full credit is given to Stilicho, described as ‘the subjugator of Gildo’. As an official propagandist, Claudian hoped to gain Stilicho’s personal favor and maintain his propitious position at the court.290 The flattering references to the glorious past offered one means to achieve this. The famous wars of Alexander and Achilles, with even the former having achieved near-mythical status, were used to eulogize contemporary political actors. Some 150 years later, in Procopius of Caesarea’s (born ca. 500) History of the wars of Justinian, the memory of Alexander’s Persian expedition was exploited in defense of the Imperial expansionist policy. During the reign of Justinian (527–565), proper depictions of his wars in the West and East were important for the ‘official’ image of his regime. In his work, published in 551, Procopius – the most famous historian of Justinian’s reign – defends Justinian’s wars against the Persians by referring to the expeditions of Alexander and Cyrus.291 According to Procopius, those who criticized the Justinianic policy were bitter enemies of the emperor and did so because of envy of the emperor. Because of these critics, the Ostrogothic king Vittigis and the Persian king Khusro (531–579) broke their treaties with Justinian.292 In the passage, Procopius explains that Justinian’s enemies accused him of trying to expand his empire and to make it more splendid. This was not a valid justification for criticism, as anyone could attack Cyrus, king of the Persians, and Alexander on similar grounds.293 The comparison pointed out that no one criticized these two famous conquerors but instead respected them because of their military accomplishments. In the same way, there was no valid reason to question Justinian’s operation in Persia. Discussion about the motives and legitimization for the war had arisen because the campaign consumed a lot of resources. According to Procopius, Justinian’s policy was well grounded and valid. For him, the past was a means to portray contemporary events as a replica of undertakings that had previously changed the dominant world order. In Later Roman Imperial panegyrics and historiography Alexander appears frequently as a conqueror of Persia, but sometimes a boy too young for battle. The image of Alexander as a young boy eager for glory, which we have met already in Plutarch’s works, appears again when authors construct an impression of a child-emperor with a great future.294 Both Symmachus’ Oration (III), addressed to the child-emperor Gratian in 369/370, and Claudian’s Panegyric on the Fourth Consulship of the Emperor Honorius (VIII) in 398, create an idealized picture of
Alexander in an empire of Romans, Greeks, and Jews 73 the father (reigning emperor) and his future heir.295 The presentation of Alexander as a young boy worrying about whether his father will leave him anything to conquer is paralleled with Gratian and Honorius, both predicted to be great men in the future.296 Gratian was 10 years old and Honorius 14 years old, both candidates for emperor when they were compared favorably with Alexander. The reference suited the contemporary political situation and reinforced the dynastic ideology by extolling Valentinian I and Theodosius (the former the father of Gratian and the latter the father of Honorius) as heads of their families. In earlier research during modern times, the uses of Alexander in the political culture of Late Antiquity did not receive much attention. Scholarship mainly concentrated on the role of Alexander during the reign of Julian, even though we more commonly encounter the Macedonian in the texts of Late Antiquity.297 The passages above underline the popularity of Alexander as a model and reference point. As was the case in the Early Empire, the past served as a storehouse of examples to be used in arguments supporting recent policies and idealizing contemporary regimes. The figure of Alexander continued to support, justify, or eulogize the Roman Imperial order and Roman military operations of both the past and the present. More than the texts of the Early Empire, the late Imperial comparatio Alexandri seems to be a central part of court rhetoric. The acknowledged role of Alexander in the Imperial panegyrics of the fourth century is evident in Libanius’ oration to Constantius and Constans (59th): “I expect then that some people will desire to see in my speech Alexander proving inferior to the emperors. But it is not difficult to effect this victory.”298 The audience of the Imperial panegyrics of the Later Empire could expect that the reigning emperor or his sons would be favorably compared to Alexander.299 This intellectual tradition is not restricted to panegyrics, but appears in histories, where the rhetoric of comparison extolled the deeds and character of the Roman emperor (cf. Procopius above), and Jordanes’ The Origin and Deeds of the Goths, written about 550, shows how the author could construct the greatness of a non-Roman monarch, the king of the Goths Ermanaric (died 370s), by referring to Alexander’s conquests.300 Writers of Late Antiquity not only conveniently flattered their addressees through comparatio Alexandri but transmitted deliberate political messages that fitted with the contemporary Imperial order. In their texts, there are no statements critical of existing political realities and their passages evidently reflect Imperial propaganda that supported the contemporary ‘monarchical’ order and dynastic ideology. They do this more than the Latin and Greek texts of the Early Empire. In general, Alexander is deployed in a more limited way in political writings of the Later Empire than in the works of the Latin and Greek Roman writers of Early Empire. Alexander is repeatedly presented as a king who conquered the Persian Empire and made Porus his ally, or as a young boy with a bright future.301 This choice of exempla shows the changing legacy of Alexander in the Later Empire, when the king was no longer used to demonstrate Roman virtues compared to other nations, but in a more straightforward and propagandistic portrait of the reigning emperor and Imperial policy. References to the great wars of the past were used to depict ‘us’, in other words the victorious Romans, as the descendants of Alexander who fought against the ‘other’, the barbarian enemies of the Empire, and who did so for a good and justified cause.
74 Alexander in an empire of Romans, Greeks, and Jews In the political culture of Late Antiquity, Alexander’s figure and his military achievements were part of the political self-fashioning of the writers before their Imperial audiences. The comparisons drawn between the actions of the reigning emperor and those of Alexander were a rhetorical strategy through which writers and orators tried to consolidate their status in the eyes of the emperor and his court by using flattering analogies. The panegyric authors were aware of the official propagandistic portraits of the emperors, and made their presentations conform to these official portraits. As writers of panegyrics, these individuals were also expected to find apposite parallels with the glorious past and the even more laudable present. The images of a shared remote past were intended to justify and reinforce the existing power structures. In the panegyrics of the Later Empire, the emperor becomes a remote and superior figure whose good qualities are contrasted with the vices of rivals and would-be usurpers. The figure of Alexander appears especially when there was a need to emphasize qualities such as bravery and success in war, justice, unmatched generosity, and mercy, or when there was need to express great expectations of young candidates for emperor. These comparationes were not primarily intended to say that a Roman emperor was greater than Alexander, but to construct an idealized presentation of their addressees and adjust the historical exempla to illustrate contemporary political issues and serve as Imperial propaganda. Since the emperors represented the whole Roman Empire and the people who lived within it, the comparison reinforced Roman identity as the greatest race of the past and the present. In addition, the texts examined here frequently mentioned Rome’s opponents in concert with Alexander’s enemies Darius and especially Porus. Common to Darius and Porus is that they both suffered losses at the hands of Alexander’s armies. Unsurprisingly, Roman orators and poets of Late Antiquity constructed images of Franks (Gennoboudes), Goths (Athanaric), Moors (Gildo), and Sassanid Persians as the Other, no match to mighty Rome. As such they symbolized the futility of resistance to Rome. We can recognize a continuity from Livy’s Alexander as a guarantee of Roman superiority in the first century BC to the eulogistic presentations of Roman martial valor in the panegyrical writings of Late Antiquity. *** In earlier research, the different ways of writing about Alexander in different cultures and group identities have mainly been examined through material found from the traditions and versions of the Alexander Romance. The emphasis on variations in the Alexander Romance reflects the cultural interest in adding regional elements to Alexander’s story and in presenting the king as ‘our’ Alexander.302 However, the divisions between different groups and their presentations of Alexander already appeared in the works of historians and orators of the Early Roman Empire. All the texts treated in this chapter define the cultural identities of a specific group, like the Latin Romans, the Roman Greeks, or the Roman Jews. Sometimes we can identify characters typical of certain periods and writers, like the Roman Latin or Roman Greek and Jewish presentations of Alexander in the
Alexander in an empire of Romans, Greeks, and Jews 75 Early Empire. In that era, Roman Latin writers extolled the supremacy of Rome by reducing Alexander to a ‘lesser’ figure than his Roman counterparts, while Roman Greek authors promoted their own cultural significance with their more idealized portraits of the king. However, we must remember that the presentations of these particular ethnic or political groups were not written in stone, but could vary according to the writers’ rhetorical aspirations. The writer of 1 Maccabees wrote about Alexander differently than Josephus, even though their ethnic background was similar. Therefore, it is too simplistic to speak of just one ‘Roman’, ‘Greek’, or ‘Jewish’ portrayal of Alexander or one Alexander of the Later Empire. As well as noting cultural generalities, we can distinguish the uniqueness of each presentation and its probable sociopolitical functions. In the Later Empire ethnic or cultural patterns in portrayals of Alexander are not visible. If we can judge from the extant texts, writers from Gaul, Egypt, Greece, and Anatolia in fourth- and fifth-century Rome had all adopted the Roman ‘transnational’ identity and the Roman Latin, Greek Roman, and Jewish writers of the first and second centuries are no longer distinguishable.303 When the texts of the Later Empire offered presentations of the Roman emperors and Imperial propaganda, they simultaneously constructed images of ‘us’ as Roman citizens. The references to Alexander supported the idea of the continuity of Roman supremacy in the fourth and fifth centuries. The continuation of the Classical tradition and the idealized presentations of emperors like Constantine, Constantius, Julian, and Theodosius constructed an image of the Roman Empire and its rulers as successors of Alexander. However, the political culture of the Dominate favored presentations in which the emperor was raised above the great (and sometimes ‘bad’) Alexander. It seems that the Christianization of the Roman Empire did not diminish the references to Alexander. Rather, we can assert that Alexander held his position through Diocletian’s regime until the Byzantine Empire.304 The history and success of the Macedonian king became especially relevant as the emperors of the fourth and fifth centuries planned and carried out expeditions against the Sassanid Persian Empire. The past is retold and reused to make an impact on the contemporary audience and its attitudes towards the present. The lasting prestige of Alexander was as a weighty rhetorical weapon in the political context. In defining the right political action and values, and in praising and supporting Imperial policy, the use of Alexander as the ultimate monarch was frequent. This usage tells us that certain events and figures of the past carried genuine prestige, in antiquity, which could be used to justify current policies or actions. Since Roman writers used the past to transmit desired political messages in the present, political motivations had a radical effect on the way they wrote about Alexander. On many occasions historicity, that is, what was believed to have actually occurred in the past which the authors wrote about, was of secondary importance, since their main intention was to strengthen their own position in the sociopolitical groups to which they belonged or to convey a patriotic or panegyrical message. The Roman, Greek, and Jewish patriotic proclamations and definitions of both past and present were all connected to the author and his rhetorical aims.
76 Alexander in an empire of Romans, Greeks, and Jews Alexander as the most illustrious general and world conqueror is a popular literary image in the texts of Latin Romans, Greek Romans, and Jewish writers of the Early Empire as well as in the texts of Late Antiquity. The presentation of Alexander as the invincible king who succeeded in defeating oriental barbarian opponents was linked with the high status and evaluation of his figure in the Roman world. It was evidently this image that drove Roman warlords to adopt his persona and to seek to emulate his achievements, and that spurred Roman authors to write about him. Among the ancient authors Greek Romans idealized Alexander’s military success and his world domination the most, placing his achievements above those of his Roman counterparts. However, almost as popular as the image of Alexander as the invincible warlord was the image of the despotic and orientalized degenerate king who turned against his own men. This image was repeatedly used by the Latin Romans of the Early Empire and panegyrists of the Later Empire, who could proclaim Roman supremacy by referring to Alexander’s alleged failures. This critical image of Alexander also comes to the fore in the Roman philosophical texts that ponder his vices like anger and the overconsumption of alcohol, which will be discussed in the next chapter.
Notes 1 For this kind of examination, see esp. Green 1988; Malloch 2001. For overviews on the aemulatio and imitatio Alexandri of the Roman generals and emperors, see Hengst 2009, 68–84; Spencer 2009, 253–267. See pages 21–22. 2 Spencer 2006, 81 n. 3. 3 A similar view is offered by Hengst 2009, 69. 4 Arist. Rh. 1.368a19–26; Quintil. 4.21. 5 Jones 1971, 105–106. 6 A survey of existing scholarship on Livy’s Alexander digression can be found in Oakley’s A Commentary on Livy, Books VI-X (2005). For the digressions in Classical historiography and Livy, see Oakley 2005, 184–186. Livy wrote Ab urbe condita during the civil war and its aftermath. The date of the Alexander digression becomes evident in the passage where Livy speaks of “leaving out of sight the civil wars” and in the statement that at the time Livy was writing the Empire was enjoying “domestic peace and concord” (Liv. 9.19.16–17). These lines suggest that the digression was written after the battle of Actium in 31 BC, where the troops of Antony and Cleopatra were defeated and the civil war came to an end. One year suggested for Livy’s Alexander digression has been 27 BC, when Octavian received the title of Augustus. Morello 2002, 82. 7 Liv. 9.16.11–19. 8 Liv. 9.17.2. 9 Trans. B. O. Foster. Ibid. 9.17.4: sicut ab aliis regibus gentibusque ita ab hoc quoque, facile praestant invictum Romanum imperium. 10 See Liv. 9.18.6. Livy’s reference to ‘levissimis Graecis’ has often linked with Timagenes of Alexandria. Timagenes wrote his Universal History during Augustus’ reign, and it is generally thought to have been hostile to Rome. On Timagenes’ work as a Livy’s principal target, see Atkinson 2000, 315–316; Mazzolani 1976, 121–122; Oakley 2005, 203. 11 Mahé-Simon 2001, 49–56. 12 Liv. 9.17.5, 7–15. 13 Isaac 2004, 291–292.
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Ibid. 9.17.16. For the tradition in the works of other Classical authors, see Curt. 3.3.22; Diod.17.31.2. Praedam verius quam hostem. For the tradition of Alexander and his troops taking part in Dionysian banquets in Nysia, see Curt. 8.10.7–18; Diod. 17.106.1; Philostr. VA 2.9. Cf. Tibull. 2.6.95; Arr. an. 6.28.1–2. The incident is discussed in the previous chapter, see page 19–20. Liv. 9.18.1–5. The number of years varies in the existing manuscripts. In some, Livy says about 800 years. The 800-year period would cover the whole history of Rome from the supposed foundation of the city by Romulus rather than Republican times only. Liv. 9.18.9. Liv. 9.18.18–19. Liv. 19.1–9. Diod. 17.108.3; Arr. an. 2.14.7. Liv. 9.18.6. It is possible that in previous literature there were remarks that raised the striking abilities of the Parthian army above those of the Roman army. Liv. 9.19.9 – 17. Chaplin 2000, 202. Cf. Liv. 9.19.12, 17. Chaplin 2000, 192–194. For the varying views among scholars, see esp. Badian 1993. Livy could also criticize the Romans. See Leeman 1963. Morello 2002, 82–83. Liv. 9.19.17. Pacis amor et civilis cura concordiae. For Concordia as the propaganda of Augustus, see Lotz 2007, 27–30. Oakley 2005, 261. Morello 2002, 82. Whitmarsh 2002, 176. Velleius’ work originally consisted of two books. The first book is a universal history, apparently mainly Greek history, but only a few passages have survived. The second part of the work focused on Rome. Some scholars call Velleius’ work a ‘hybrid history’, starting as a universal history and changing into a Roman history. Velleius dedicated his work to his patron M. Vinicius, during his tenure of the consulship. Cf. Rich 2011, 75–77. For the dating of the Velleius’ work, see Woodman 1975, 275–282; Rich 2011, 84–86. For Velleius’ eulogy of the rule of Tiberius, cf. Vel. Pat 2.126. See further Schmitzer 2011, 199–200. Alexander probably received some attention in the first book of the Historia Romana, and maybe this special treatment was for the theme of the succession of empires, see Rich 2011, 79. Plut. Vit. Caes. 11.5–6; App. B. Civ. 2.149.619–154.649. These comparisons were probable motivated by Caesar’s admiration of Alexander. For the tradition on Caesar imitating or admiring Alexander, see Plut. Vit. Caes. 26.95; Suet. Iul. 7.1; Strab. 13.1.27. Green 1978 suggested that Caesar’s imitation was not so prominent as it had been thought in the scholarship. Gowing 2007, 415. Caesar was not as important in the Velleian narrative as Augustus and Tiberius, and his mention has a different (illustrative) function. Pelling 2011, 167. Seager suggests that Velleius was not saying Caesar was the creator of the new system of government. Seager 2011, 303–304. Nevertheless, Velleius strongly criticizes the conspirators who killed Caesar. Vel. Pat. 2.41.1. See pages 107–115 below. Vel Pat. 2.41.2.
78 Alexander in an empire of Romans, Greeks, and Jews 46 Lobur 2011, 212–213. According to Velleius, Caesar perfected the moderatio that Pompey lacked. 47 A similar view is given by Diana Spencer, in her Roman Alexander (2002, 87), when she notes that Velleius’ reference to continentia states that the union of monarchy and Republican virtues is possible. 48 Alexander died at the age 32, whereas Germanicus died at the age of 34. Furthermore, they both died in obscure circumstances. There were rumors of poisoning. Alexander died in Babylon, while Germanicus died in Syrian Antioch. Both places were far from their homes. For the motif of paralleling Alexander with Germanicus in Latin literature, see Spencer 2009, 261–262. For Tacitus’ tendency to depict Germanicus as resembling Alexander in the Annals, see Santoro L’Hoir 2006, 202–204. 49 Trans. Clifford H. Moore & John Jackson. Tac. Ann. 2.73: sed hunc mitem erga amicos, modicum voluptatum, uno matrimonio, certis liberis egisse, neque minus proeliatorem, etiam si temeritas afuerit praepeditusque sit perculsas tot victoriis Germanias servitio premere. Quod si solus arbiter rerum, si iure et nomine regio fuisset, tanto promptius adsecuturum gloriam militiae quantum dementia, temperantia, ceteris bonis artibus praestitisset. 50 As far as we know, Barsine gave the king a son named Heracles while Roxanne gave birth to Alexander IV. For Classical writers on Heracles, see esp. Curt. 10.6.11, 13; Paus 9.7.2; Diod. Sic. 20.20.1. 51 For the mos maiores in Roman culture and the significance of historical exempla, see esp. Blom 2010. For the mos maiores as a legitimizing factor throughout the Republic, see Arena 2015. 52 Alexander historians offer idolizing narratives of the king’s reckless courage. Alexander’s action against the Mallian tribe, especially, was perceived as symbolizing his exceptional courage in war and was presented in a positive light. Cf. Arr. an. 6.9.1–10.4; Curt. 9.4.30–5.19; Diod.17.98.1–99.6. 53 Percival 1980, 125. 54 See Curt. 6.6.11. 55 Tac. Ann. 2.73. 56 Tacitus had been the governor of Asia. Percival 1980, 121. It has been suggested that Tacitus connected the reign of Tiberius to the tyranny of Domitian: cf. Griffin 1995, 51; Mellor 2002, 102. 57 As we know, in the Roman Republican tradition, the Romans had expelled the foreign Etruscan kings before establishing the Republican regime. Although the concept of king (rex) stayed in the Latin vocabulary, the ruling class viewed charismatic individuals with alarm and sometimes leveled charges of monarchism. For example, Julius Caesar encountered strong opposition to his striving for monarchial power, see Everdell 2000, 42–52, 63–67; Stevenson 2015, 140–153. 58 For example, he avoided the use of titles like rex and dictator: see Nicols 2014, 98. 59 Spencer 2002, 15–31, as well as Wirth 1976 and Ceauşescu 1974. 60 We encounter the negative image of Alexander’s orientalism (adopting Persian ways and costume) in later literature too: see Luc. Dial. mort. 12.4; Tert. De pall. 4.6.3. However, these texts do not exploit the topos for the same purpose as the passages analyzed in this present subchapter. 61 Trans. B. O. Foster. Liv. 9.18.3: Dareo magis similis quam Alexandro in Italiam venisset et exercitum Macedoniae oblitum degenerantemque iam in Persarum mores adduxisset. Referre in tanto rege piget superbam mutationem vestis et desideratas humi iacentium adulationes, etiam victis Macedonibus graves, nedum victoribus et foeda supplicia et inter vinum et epulas caedes amicorum et vanitatem ementiendae stirpis. 62 Ibid. 9.18.4. 63 Spencer 2009, 260.
Alexander in an empire of Romans, Greeks, and Jews 79 64 Trans. Henry John Walker. Val. Max. 9.5.ext.1: fastidio enim Philippi Iovem Hammonem patrem ascivit, taedio morum et cultus Macedonici vestem et instituta Persica adsumpsit, spreto mortali habitu divinum aemulatus est, nec fuit ei pudori filium civem hominem dissimulare. 65 For the use of dress and the way it represented certain values in the Greco-Roman cultural tradition, see Huskinson 2000, 8–9. 66 Val. Max. 9.5.ext.1. 67 Valerius seems to accept the Tiberian ruler-cult wholeheartedly. In the preface, Valerius writes about Tiberius and the Julio-Claudian reign as “our faith in your divinity which comes from your living presence and is as sound as our faith in the stars of your father and your grandfather.” Accordingly, Valerius speaks of Tiberius as “our emperor, the true savior of our country”. See Val. Max. pref. 1.1. Wardle 2005, 155– 157 expresses a similar view on Valerius and the ruler-cult. 68 The passage concerning the dating of the work is a eulogistic reference to the new emperor and to his ascension and succession crisis (10.9.1–6). The predominant Claudian date (after Claudius’ accession in 41) has been argued on the basis of both the aspects of the language (the style of the work) and the content of the work. Atkinson 1980, 19–57; Heckel 1984, 1–4; Atkinson 2009, 3–9. For another option for the Vespasian dating, see esp. Baynham 1998, 213–219. In my view, the suggested Vespasian dating should be rejected, as it is inconsistent with the evidence. In her more recent article, Baynham does not directly refer to the Vespasian date, but leaves the question open. Baynham 2007, 428–429. 69 In modern scholarship, the literary themes of Alexander’s degeneration caused by fortune and success have received some attention. Baynham 1998 handles these themes, even though she does not give them any historical context, and explores the rhetorical sociopolitical messages in which these themes were contained. 70 Atkinson 1994, 28. 71 Atkinson 2009, 3. Even though Atkinson notes this aspect in his Curtius commentaries (1984, 1994, 2009), he concentrates almost entirely on the historical reconstruction of Alexander’s reign and career. Baynham 1998, 12 admits the possibility of “contemporary overtones” and the possibility that Alexander offered Curtius the chance to “study politics and power”, but she rejects the consideration of the work as “simple allegory”. 72 Exceptions are the studies of Diana Spencer: cf. Spencer 2002, 79–82, 94–96, 134– 138 and Spencer 2005. Spencer 2005 approaches the dimensions of Curtius’ depiction of the East as “textual colonialism” which stressed unknowability, glamour and the looming disaster of the Orient. Devine 1979 concentrates on dating Curtius’ work: he also tries to find parallels with Alexander and the presentation of the Roman emperors. Ndiaye 2009 has examined the image of the barbarians in Curtius’ books 8 to 10 as political rhetoric. 73 Cf. Curt. 10.3.3, 5.10. In the passage (4.7.31) which portrays the resistance of the Macedonians to Alexander’s demands for divine honors, Curtius states: “Furthermore, although it is true that the Macedonians were accustomed to monarchy, they lived in the shadow of liberty more than other races, and so they rejected his pretensions to immortality with greater obstinacy than was good either for themselves or their king.” Trans. John Yardley. 74 Trans. John Yardley. Curt. 3.6.19: cultus habitusque paulum a private abhorrens, militaris vigor. 75 When Curtius handles Alexander’s recovery after serious illness and the overjoyed reaction of the Macedonians, he characterizes the latter’s devoted attitude to their king in the passage: “The Macedonians have a natural tendency to venerate their royalty, but even taking that into account, the extent of their admiration, or their burning affection, for this particular king is difficult to describe.” Curt. 3.6.17. Trans. John Yardley.
80 Alexander in an empire of Romans, Greeks, and Jews 76 Trans. John Yardley. Curt. 4.7.8: sed ingens cupido animum stimulabat adeundi Iovem, quem generis sui auctorem, haud contentus mortali fastigio, aut credebat esse aut credi volebat. 77 Curt. 4.7.8–9, 25–26, 29–31. As opposed to Arrian’s or Plutarch’s romantic narratives, Curtius’ passage is clearly the most negative treatment of the visit to Siwah. Greek writers like Arrian and Plutarch describe difficulties and the godly omens that occurred during the journey, while Curtius deals with the episode in an ironic tone. For a negative portrait of the king’s divination, see Luc. Dial. mort. 12.1, 5, 6, where Alexander, now in the Underworld, is not only forced to admit that Philip is his father, not Amon, but that he is mortal just like everyone else. 78 Curt. 4.7.25. 79 Ibid. 4.7.29–31. 80 Curt. 6.2.2. 81 Curt. 6.2.2–3. Cf. Curt. 6.6.9. 82 Isaac 2004, 283–298, 302–303. 83 Ibid. 375–376. 84 Trans. John C Rolfe. Curt. 6.2.3: tenaces quippe disciplinae suae, solitosque parco ac parabili victu ad implenda naturae desideria defungi, in peregrina et devictarum gentium mala impulerat. 85 Diod. Sic. 16.87; Athen. 12.537d. Cf. Borza 1990, 241–242, 270. 86 Asirvatham 2010a, 115–116, refers to the positive role given to the Macedonians in the texts of the Roman Latin writers. According to Asirvatham, for Romans the Macedonians are ‘us’. 87 Trans. John Yardley. Curt. 6.2.4: “This explains the increase in the plots against his life, the mutiny of his men and the more public displays of resentment and mutual recrimination among them; it explains why Alexander subsequently oscillated between anger and suspicion which arose from groundless fears, and it explains other similar problems which will be recounted later.” 88 Curt. 6.5.23. Bagoas’ power over Alexander is stressed later in the work. The story of the Amazon queen Thalestris is connected to the same theme. In the text, Alexander is a slave of Eastern habits and lacks self-control. Curt. 6.5.24–32. 89 Trans. John C. Rolfe. Curt. 6.6.1–2: hic vero palam cupiditates suas solvit continentiamque et moderationem, in altissima quaque fortuna eminentia bona, in superbiam ac lasciviam vertit. Patrios mores disciplinamque Macedonum regum salubriter temperatam et civilem habitum velut leviora magnitudine sua ducens, Persicae regiae par deorum potentiae fastigium aemulabatur. 90 Ibid. 6.6.7. 91 Ibid. 6.6.8. 92 For a recent treatment of the proskynesis, see esp. Bowden 2013. Curtius refers to the proskynesis when he deals with the events that finally led to the killing of Callisthenes. Cf. Curt. 8.5.5. 93 Curt. 6.6.4. 94 Trans. John C. Rolfe. Ibid. 6.6.5: et ille se quidem spolia Persarum gestare dicebat, sed cum illis quoque mores induerat, superbiamque habitus animi insolentia sequebatur. 95 Barret 1989, 64–67, 69, 71. 96 For this turning point, ‘illness’ and ‘nervous breakdown’, in Caligula’s reign, see Philo. Leg. 14–21. 97 Adams 2007, 160; Barret 1989, 87–88. 98 Adams 2007, 183–187. Suetonius wrote that Caligula did not follow the usage of his country and his citizens in his style of clothing. Suet. Calig. 52.1. 99 Caligula tried to convert the Temple in Jerusalem to his own worship, in the guise of Zeus Epiphanes. There is evidence that he arranged a cult center for his worship in the Eastern province of Miletus. The famous temple of Didyma (Didymaean Apollo) was to be rededicated to his cult. Barret 1989, 143–144.
Alexander in an empire of Romans, Greeks, and Jews 81 100 Caligula also established his official cult in Rome probably by building a temple to his numen in Rome. Barret 1989, 146–147. 101 Cass. Dio 59.4.4. Adams 2007, 231–237. Adams suggests that Gaius’ divine aspirations were historical, even though the passages should be treated with caution. Caligula is reported to have demanded sacrifices for himself as a deity. For the divination of Caligula, see also Ferril 1991, 133–137. 102 Bowden 2013, 76 also associates the reign of Caligula with the Roman versions of Alexander’s proskynesis. For a discussion about Caligula’s proskynesis, see Barret 1989, 140–154. 103 Cf. Chapter 1 (n. 95). Spencer 2009, 263 argues that Caligula embraced Alexander more openly as the prototype for imperializing monarchy. 104 According to Atkinson, “the final assessment of Alexander” (Curt. 10.5.26–37) serves to indicate what was expected of a good princeps, and it has to be coupled with the eulogy of the new emperor in 10.9.1–6. Atkinson 2009, 156. 105 Plin. HN 35.93–94. For the episode, see also Atkinson 2009, 157–158. Atkinson argues that the death of Caligula even led some to consider a return to a Republican system possible. 106 Cf. Cic. Cat. 2.12; Hor. Epod. 16. 107 For philhellenism in the Roman Empire from Augustus to the end of the second and early third centuries, see Wardman 1976; Swain 1996; Mellor 2008. 108 For Nero’s philhellenism, see Mratschek 2013, 45–65. For Hadrian’s philhellenism, see Vout 2006, 96–124; Spawforth 2012, 233–271. 109 Bosworth 2006, 9–23, suggests that in practice Alexander’s absolute monarchy had little concrete effect on the regimes that succeeded him. For the emergency of the Hellenistic world and the posthumous role of Alexander in that development, see Braund 2003, 19–33. 110 For the cities founded by Alexander, or claimed to have been founded by him, see Fraser 1996; for the cults of Alexander, see Billows 2003, 113–114; Chaniotis 2003, 434–435. 111 The acquisition of Roman citizenship and Imperial offices suggests that Greek elites were the most Romanized of the population of the East. These elites held political power in the poleis, had the possibility to achieve local oligarchic hegemony, and acquired new opportunities for Empire-wide careers. Preston 2001, 91. 112 Goldhill 1995, 354. 113 The Greek Roman writers of the Roman Empire as a specific group have attracted interest in the form of several monographs: Bowersock 1969; Swain 1996; Whitmarsh 2001. For the Greek Roman outlook on Rome, see esp. Veyne 1999. For a short survey of the central character of the encounter between the Greek and Roman worlds, see Majbom Madsen 2009, 2–3. 114 Asirvatham 2010a, 112–114 recognizes the image of Alexander as a cultural hero. Asirvatham 2010b compares the portraits of Alexander and Philip, and stresses that Alexander is repeatedly raised above his father in Dio Chrysostom, and Plutarch. 115 When it comes to Plutarch and Alexander, scholars have mostly examined Plutarch’s Alexander and his essay On the fortune or the virtue of Alexander. However, Plutarch’s other essays and passages concerning Alexander, which provide interesting data, have not attracted scholarly interest. 116 The Second Sophistic refers both to the historical period itself and to the ImperialGreek habit of rhetorical declamation. For a survey of the concept and its significance among Classical scholars, see esp. Whitmarsh 2005, 4–10. 117 Diod. Sic. 17.117.5: πράξεις δὲ μεγίστας κατεργασάμενος οὐ μόνον τῶν πρὸ αὐτοῦ βασιλευσάντων, ἀλλὰ καὶ τῶν ὕστερον ἐσομένων μέχρι τοῦ καθ’ ἡμᾶς βίου. Trans. C. Bradford Welles. Also in the first lines of his treatment of Alexander, Diodorus offers similar words of praise: cf. Diod. Sic.17.1.3–4. 118 Trans. P. E. Brunt. Arr. an. 1.12.4: ἀλλ’ οὐκ ἔστιν ὅστις ἄλλος εἷς ἀνὴρ τοσαῦτα ἢ τηλικαῦτα ἔργα κατὰ πλῆθος ἢ μέγεθος ἐν Ἕλλησιν ἢ βαρβάροις ἀπεδείξατο.
82 Alexander in an empire of Romans, Greeks, and Jews 119 Plut. Mor. De Alex. Fort. 335f. 120 Plin. HN 7.26, 95. 121 Trans. Bernadotte Perrin. Plut. Vit. Pomp. 46.1: Ἡλικίᾳ δὲ τότε ἦν, ὡς μὲν οἱ κατὰ πάντα τῷ Ἀλεξάνδρῳ παραβάλλοντες αὐτὸν καὶ προσβιβάζοντες ἀξιοῦσι, νεώτερος τῶν τριάκοντα καὶ τεττάρων ἐτῶν, ἀληθείᾳ δὲ τοῖς τετταράκοντα προσῆγεν. ὡς ὤνητό γ’ ἂν ἐνταῦθα τοῦ βίου παυσάμενος, ἄχρι οὗ τὴν Ἀλεξάνδρου τύχην ἔσχεν. 122 App. B. Civ. 2.149.13: εἰκότως ἐξομοιούμενος Ἀλεξάνδρῳ. 123 App. B. Civ. 2.149–154. Also, Plutarch famously paired Alexander with Caesar in his Parallel lives. A highly idealized picture of the Macedonian king is presented, whereas the depiction of Caesar is neither negative nor idealized. 124 Appian’s setting resembles Plutarch’s Lives, which famously paired Alexander with Caesar. 125 Cass. Dio 59.17.3, 78.7.1–4, 88.9.1. 126 Trans. Earnest Cary. Ibid. 68.29.1: τόν τε Ἀλέξανδρον ἐμακάριζε. καίτοι ἔλεγε καὶ ἐκείνου περαιτέρω προκεχωρηκέναι, καὶ τοῦτο καὶ τῇ βουλῇ ἐπέστειλε, μὴ δυνηθεὶς μηδὲ ἃ ἐκεχείρωτο σῶσαι. 127 Plut. Demetr. 25.3. 128 Ibid. 25.4. 129 Trans. Pernadotte Perrin. Plut. Vit. Aem. 12.9: ἀλλὰ τῆς Ἀλεξάνδρου καὶ Φιλίππου κατὰ συγγένειαν ἀρετῆς μεταποιούμενος. 130 Trans. Pernadotte Perrin. Ibid.: οἳ τῷ τὰ πράγματα τῶν χρημάτων ὠνητά, μὴ τὰ χρήματα τῶν πραγμάτων ἡγεῖσθαι, πάντων ἐκράτησαν. 131 Plut. Vit. Aem. 12.11. The story also appears in Curt. 6.6.14–17; Plut. Alex. 57.1–2; Polyn. Strat. 4.3.10. 132 Plut. Vit. Aem. 12.12. 133 Lucian of Samosata (born ca. 120), whose native language was Aramaic, but who still belonged to the Greek-speaking elites of the Hellenistic East) made a similar reference to the tendency to imitate Alexander. Luc. Ind. 21.5–10. 134 In contrast to the Ptolemies and Seleucids, who were Macedonian by origin and identity, but did not rule Greece and Macedonia with Macedonian companions: see esp. Asirvatham 2010a, 104–105. 135 Bowie 1970, 13–16; Aalders 1982, 22. 136 Swain 1989 examines how τύχη appears in Plutarch’s writings. According to Swain, sometimes it refers to events that were predetermined or guided by providence and sometimes those events that happened by chance. Swain 1989a, 273. 137 Billows 2000 states that Demetrius’ Peri tykhēs (written about 310 BC) was the first work that attached τύχη to the career of Alexander and presented the Macedonian king as the favorite of τύχη. According to Billows, Cleitarchus included this theme after reading the work of Demetrius. Billows relies on a passage from Polybius (29.21.2–6). Billows 2000, 297–298. Some other scholars have seen the work of Theophrastus (ca. 371–287 BC) as more important in the discourse on τύχη and Alexander. This outlook rests on Cicero’s comment on the work of Theophrastus, characterizing the Macedonian king as the most fortunate and the strongest man who was not able to carry through his favorable fortune (Cic. Tusc. 3.9.21, 5.25; Diog. Laert. 5.2.44). For this view, see Wardman 1955, 96. 138 Lind 1972 examines how Roman success was explained in Greco-Roman literature. Lind sees Polybius as the first to discuss the reasons for Roman hegemony. Lind 1972, 235. This is a bold claim, because Polybius’ interpretation can also be seen as a reaction to the discussion of previous Greek writers. 139 Billows 2000 gives the first survey of Polybius’ passages concerning Alexander. However, Billows does not explore why Alexander seems to have had a minor role in Polybius’ work. Instead, his interest lies in tracing Polybius’ sources. 140 See Polyb. 18.12.2, 31.25.10. Polybius stated that some Greeks of his day had belittled the rise of Rome as resulting from τύχη (in this case probable meaning ‘chance’).
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Polyb. 1.63.9. Dionysius of Halicarnassus also referred to Greek writers hostile to Rome. Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 1.4.2–3. Polyb. 1.2.4. Livy depicted the king’s success as “the end result of a little over ten years’ good fortune.” Liv. 9.18.8–10. There is an implication that good fortune could easily have changed to bad. In Curtius’ work, Alexander’s military success is related his exceptional fortune, which protected him more often than his own abilities as commander. Curt. 4.9.2, 8.10.16 – 18, 9.5.3–4. Alexander was also corrupted by the same fortune. Curt. 3.12.19–20, 4.7.29–30. Seneca utilizes this same discourse, in which the king has the favor of Fortune, forgets his place as a mortal, and turns to the path of vice. Cf. Sen. Ben. 7.3.1. Trans. Bradford Welles. Diod. Sic. 17.38.3–7: καθόλου δ’ ἔγωγε νομίζω πολλῶν καὶ καλῶν ἔργων ὑπ’ Ἀλεξάνδρου συντετελεσμένων μηδὲν τούτων μεῖζον ὑπάρχειν μηδὲ μᾶλλον ἄξιον ἀναγραφῆς καὶ μνήμης ἱστορικῆς εἶναι . . . οἱ πλεῖστοι γὰρ διὰ τὴν εὐτυχίαν ἐπαίρονται μὲν ταῖς εὐπραξίαις, ὑπερήφανοι δ’ ἐν ταῖς εὐτυχίαις γινόμενοι τῆς ἀνθρωπίνης καὶ κοινῆς ἀσθενείας ἐπιλανθάνονται· διὸ καὶ τοὺς πλείστους ὁρᾶν ἔστι τὴν εὐτυχίαν ὥσπερ τι βαρὺ φορτίον φέρειν ἀδυνατοῦντας. Ἀλέξανδρος μὲν οὖν, καίπερ πολλαῖς γενεαῖς προγεγονὼς τοῦ καθ’ ἡμᾶς βίου, τυγχανέτω καὶ παρὰ τῶν μεταγενεστέρων δικαίου καὶ πρέποντος ταῖς ἰδίαις ἀρεταῖς ἐπαίνου. In Plutarch’s writings, providence plays a much greater role in Roman history than it did in Classical Greek histories of Greece and the East. Swain 1989, 280. Yet one reason for neglecting Tykhe in the Lives could be that Plutarch wanted to stress the importance of virtue (ἀρετή) in the lives of the great Greeks and Romans. Trans. Bernadotte Perrin. Plut. Alex. 20.4: Ἀλεξάνδρῳ δὲ τὸν μὲν τόπον ἡ τύχη παρέσχεν, ἐστρατήγησε δὲ τῶν ἀπὸ τῆς τύχης ὑπαρχόντων πρὸς τὸ νικῆσαι βέλτιον. Plut. Alex. 16.1–4. See Plut. Alex. 32.2, 33.3–4. According to Wardman, for Plutarch τύχη forms the foundation of individual valor. The demand for the individual is to exploit good fortune in an effective way. Wardman 1974, 182–183. Plut. Mor. De Alex. Fort. 340f – 341a. Plutarch lists the wounds of Alexander and the difficult natural obstacles, like rivers and mountains, that the king and his troops had to cross. Plut. Mor. De Alex. Fort. 327a – e, 340e – 341c. Plut. Mor. De Alex. Fort. 332c. Cf. Burliga 2013, 112–113. Philip Stadter has stressed this aspect of the Anabasis in his biography of Arrian. Stadter 1980, 89, 165–166. See also Bosworth 2007, 452. Traditionally, Alexander scholarship has highlighted the true value of Arrian’s account and approached his work from the angle of historical veracity. As an extreme example of the pro-Arrian view, see Hammond 1993, 315–316. Recently, Burliga 2013, 64–65 has suggested once again that behind the idea of writing the history of Alexander were the political circumstances of the day, firstly Trajan’s Parthian expedition, and secondly to examine Alexander’s personality and achievements from a Stoic perspective. For example, compare Arrian with Curtius on Alexander’s crossing of the Tigris (Curt. 4.9.2; Arr. an. 3.7.5). In Arrian, the setbacks of the king’s career occurred because of his youth. Cf. Arr. an. 7.29.1–2. Plut. Alex. 45.1, 2. Cf. Arr. an. 7.29.4. This is stressed in the narrative after the battle of Issus, when the king captured an enormous amount of riches and Darius’ harem. In Plutarch’s account there is a list of the booty, and this serves to stress the luxury that Alexander acquired as the new king. Plut. Alex. 20.6–8. In contrast to the tendency of the Roman Latin writers, Alexander rejects the sexual relationships he could have maintained with beautiful Persian women (Plut. Alex. 21.4–5. See also Plut. Mor. De Alex. Fort. 338d – e) and new slave
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boys (Plut. Alex. 22.1–2). In addition, the king continues to show self-control in his eating habits (Plut. Alex. 22.4–5). Plut. Alex. 40.1–3, 41.1–2. My starting theory is similar to that expressed in Asirvatham 2005, that Plutarch’s object is to illuminate Roman ideas. Zeno (332–263 BC.), the founder of Stoicism, wrote his Politeia, and to whose ideas Plutarch was probably referring. For the fragments of the work, see Baldry 1959. Aristotle considered barbarians and slaves as equals. Both are to be governed because of their nature. Therefore, Greeks are also suitable to lead all barbarians. Isaac 2004, 177–178, 301. Plut. Mor. De Alex. Fort. 329b – c. In contrast to the polis system of the Greek Classical period during the fifth century BC. The modern concept of Romanization refers both to the incorporation of the provinces into the political system of Rome and to the consequent cultural transformation. For scholarly discussion on Romanization, see Huskinson 2000, 20–23; Revell 2009, 6–7. For a recent critique of using the concept as an interpretative tool, see Mattingy 2011, 38–41. It was both a directed policy and less deliberate, as in the case of the Roman soldiers who brought goods and ideas to newly conquered areas. In the Western and Eastern parts of the Empire, Romanization naturally took different shapes. Levine 2002, 257; cf. Dmitriev 2005, 3–6. For Romanization in Western areas like Britain and Spain, see Millet 1992 and Curchin 2004. Asirvatham 2005, 114–115 expresses a similar view. Plut. Mor. De Alex. Fort. 329c – d. Ibid. 329f – 330d. I will treat the question of Greek paideia and Alexander in Chapter 3: see pages 94–99. For the contents of Polyaenus’ military manual, see Campbell 1987, 15–16. Trans. Peter Krentz. Polyn. Strat. 1.1.1–5: Τὴν μὲν κατὰ Περσῶν καὶ Παρθυαίων νίκην, ἱερώτατοι βασιλεῖς Ἀντωνῖνε καὶ Οὐῆρε, παρὰ τῶν θεῶν ἕξετε καὶ παρὰ τῆς ὑμετέρας ἀρετῆς καὶ παρὰ τῆς Ῥωμαίων ἀνδρείας, μεθ’ ὧν ἀεὶ, καὶ πάλαι καὶ νῦν εἰώθατε νικᾶν τοὺς ὑπάρχοντας πολέμους καὶ μάχας· ἐγὼ δὲ Μακεδὼν ἀνὴρ, πάτριον ἔχων τὸ κρατεῖν Περσῶν πολεμούντων δύνασθαι, οὐκ ἀσύμβολος ὑμῖν ἐν τῷ παρόντι καιρῷ γενέσθαι βούλομαι. Polyaenus’ treatment of Alexander in the Stratagems relates to the short opening words that other illustrious generals of the treatise lack. At 4.3.1, Polyaenus writes that “Alexander passed a decree”: in this way Alexander is placed above all other generals. There are, all in all, 31 different passages included about Alexander. The Macedonian king receives, together with Philip, the greatest attention. Polyn. Strat. 4.3.32–45. The fare quoted directly in the text comes from an unknown source. Trans. Peter Krentz. Ibid. 4.3.32.71–74: οὐδαμῶς συμφέρει τοῖς βασιλεῦσιν οὕτως ἀσώτως δειπνεῖν διδάσκεσθαι· ἀνάγκη γὰρ τῇ πολλῇ ἀσωτίᾳ καὶ τρυφῇ πολλὴν ἀνανδρίαν ἕπεσθαι· ὁρᾶτε δὲ καὶ τοὺς τηλικούτων δείπνων πιμπλαμένους ἐν ταῖς μάχαις ταχέως ἡττωμένους. Asirvatham 2010a, 109–111. Before comparing Rome with the Persians, Aristides deals with the geography of the Empire and its economic realities (26.14–15). Aristid. Or. 26.20–23. Ibid. 26.24–27. Trans. Charles E. Behr. Aristid. Or. 26.25: βασιλεῦσαι δὲ ἐλάχιστα, καὶ γενέσθαι μὲν ἀγωνιστὴν μέγαν περὶ βασιλείας, ἀπολαῦσαι δ’ οὐδὲν ἄξιον τῆς διανοίας καὶ τῆς τέχνης, ἀλλὰ παθεῖν παραπλήσιον ὥσπερ ἂν εἴ τις τὸν Ὀλυμπικὸν ἀγῶνα ἀγωνιζόμενος καὶ κρατήσας τοὺς ἀντιπάλους, εἶτα ἐπαποθάνοι τῇ νίκῃ, πρὶν εὖ καὶ καλῶς τῇ κεφαλῇ στέφανον ἁρμόσαι.
Alexander in an empire of Romans, Greeks, and Jews 85 180 Asirvatham 2008, 222–223 sees that the image of Alexander in Regarding Rome is negative. By contrast, I would argue that Aristides gives credit to Alexander. This is especially so when we compare the image of Alexander to the earlier passage about the Old Persian Empire. However, the function of the speech that explains Aristides’ Alexander in Regarding Rome is essential. 181 Aristid. Or. 27.25. 182 Aristid. Or. 27.26. According to the tradition, Darius offered Alexander bribes to share his kingdom with him: Ar. an. 2.25; Plut. Alex. 29. 183 Aristid. Or. 27.26. 184 The Greek author Lucian could criticize Alexander’s divinity and desire for eternal glory in the Dialogues of the Dead. Yet it seems that these critical portrayals of Alexander are rarer among the Greek writers of the Early Empire than among the Latin authors of the same era. 185 For example, Dönitz 2011, 21–22 reads negative views on Alexander in the First Book of Maccabees. In addition, she perceives positive views of the king in the Bible and in the writings of Josephus. 186 Cf. Kleczar 2013, 346–347; Amitay 2010, 104–122. 187 Cf. 1 Macc. 1.44–51; Jos. AJ 12.251, 253–254, see Gruen 1993, 249. Behind the antiJewish policy of Antiochus IV has been seen the idea of a ‘Hellenistic crusade’ and the promotion of his own worship as an incarnation of Zeus Olympios, and exacting money through tribute payments. Gruen 1993a, 250–253. 188 Trans. Daniel J. Harrington. 1 Macc. 1.1–10: Καὶ ἐγένετο μετὰ τὸ πατάξαι Ἀλέξανδρον τὸν Φιλίππου Μακεδόνα, ὃς ἐξῆλθεν ἐκ γῆς Χεττιιμ, καὶ ἐπάταξεν τὸν Δαρεῖον βασιλέα Περσῶν καὶ Μήδων καὶ ἐβασίλευσεν ἀντ’ αὐτοῦ, πρότερον ἐπὶ τὴν Ἑλλάδα. καὶ συνεστήσατο πολέμους πολλοὺς καὶ ἐκράτησεν ὀχυρωμάτων καὶ ἔσφαξεν βασιλεῖς τῆς γῆς· καὶ διῆλθεν ἕως ἄκρων τῆς γῆς καὶ ἔλαβεν σκῦλα πλήθους ἐθνῶν. καὶ ἡσύχασεν ἡ γῆ ἐνώπιον αὐτοῦ, καὶ ὑψώθη, καὶ ἐπήρθη ἡ καρδία αὐτοῦ. καὶ συνῆξεν δύναμιν ἰσχυρὰν σφόδρα καὶ ἦρξεν χωρῶν ἐθνῶν καὶ τυράννων, καὶ ἐγένοντο αὐτῷ εἰς φόρον. καὶ μετὰ ταῦτα ἔπεσεν ἐπὶ τὴν κοίτην καὶ ἔγνω ὅτι ἀποθνῄσκει. καὶ ἐκάλεσεν τοὺς παῖδας αὐτοῦ τοὺς ἐνδόξους τοὺς συνεκτρόφους αὐτοῦ ἐκ νεότητος καὶ διεῖλεν αὐτοῖς τὴν βασιλείαν αὐτοῦ ἔτι αὐτοῦ ζῶντος. 189 The verb σφάζω also refers to the slaughtering of sacrificial animals, usually by cutting their throats. It can be argued that the wording has negative connotations. 190 1 Macc. 1.2–3. The biblical Book of Daniel was written at least decades before the First Book of Maccabees. In the Book of Daniel, Alexander is depicted as the he-goat who was ‘puffed-up’ (Dan. 8:8). One aim of the writer of First Maccabees was to compose a continuation of the biblical writings, and he may have exploited that verse. In contrast to the First Book of Maccabees, the image of the king in the Book of Daniel can be characterized as ambivalent. In the 11th chapter of the work (Dan. 11.3), Alexander is called a ‘heroic’ or ‘strong’ king’ (melech gibbor). On pages 189–195, I examine the Danielic Alexander and its use by early Christian writers. 191 1 Macc. 1.23, 25. 192 For a similar interpretation, see Williams 2001, 142. 193 1 Macc. 1.11–14. 194 The reason was probably the mixture of rich Roman aristocrats as proxy rulers and the social tensions between the rich and poor within Judean society. For a reference to the studies of the Great revolt, see Goodman 2004, 7. 195 For Josephus’ presentation of the destruction of Jerusalem as an incident denounced by God, cf. Jos. BJ 6.5.281–315. For the reported numbers of casualties in the war, cf. Jos. BJ 6.9.420. On the totality of the destruction Martin Goodman writes: “Jerusalem, the temple and the priesthood were in ruins. Nothing more is heard of the high-priestly families which had been pre-eminent before 66, apart from their deaths. The Sanhedrin ceased to exist and the old Jewish ruling class disappeared.” Goodman 2000, 665.
86 Alexander in an empire of Romans, Greeks, and Jews 196 After transferring to the service of the Roman army, Josephus tried to persuade the besieged Jews to submit on favorable terms: cf. Jos. BJ 5.3.114, 5.6.261, 5.9.361, 5.13.541, 6.7.365. 197 Rajak 2002, 11. 198 The Jewish diaspora refers to Jews who lived in large communities at Alexandria, Antioch, and Sardis. One such community was also in Rome. Rajak 2002, 7–8. 199 Ibid. 12. 200 The first work he wrote was the Jewish War, composed in the latter part of Vespasian’s rule. Josephus is characterized as Vespasian’s official historian. For the dating of the work, see Rajak 2002, 195. Josephus’s other later works were Jewish Antiquities, Lives, and Against Apion. 201 For the dating, see Rajak 2002, 237–238. Goodman depicts the work as an “act of extraordinary bravery in the anti-Jewish atmosphere of the time.” Goodman 2002, 21–22. 202 There are many theories expressed on the possible original sources for Alexander’s visit. Momigliano 1979 proposed that the story was invented in the Maccabean period in Alexandria, while Cohen 1982, for example, asserts that there are two different layers to the story; an adventus story and an epiphany story. Feldman 1988 seems to support Momigliano. The majority of scholars have assessed the story as a totally unhistorical episode. Marcus 1937, 512–532; Momigliano 1979; Cohen 1982, 68; Gruen 1993b, 11; and Stoneman 2008, 49–50 consider it unhistorical, while Nawotka 2010, 195–196 argues for the veracity of the visit. It is arguable that the reasons for totally denying the historicity of the story are sometimes unconvincing and the treatment of the question cursory: see for example, Cohen 1982, 68. For a selective critical bibliography on the studies of the visit, see esp. Feldman 1988, 368–369. 203 Cf. Gruen 1993b, 11, where the ideological dimensions are treated very briefly. 204 In chapter 5, pages 181–188, I deal with the basic concept of Jews as the people of an almighty God and the continuity of the concept in Christian thinking. 205 These two aspects were important in the self-definition of Judaism in the Bible. The prohibition against non-Jewish marriage alliances often occurs in biblical literature. The prominent verses are written in Deut. 7:3–4 (for other references to the existence of this prohibition, see 1 Kings 11:2; Ezr. 9:2; Neh. 10:30). In traditional Judaism, the temple of Jerusalem was the only proper place to worship God. The temple was chosen by God and it was the place where sacrifices and pilgrimages for Jewish festivals had to take place. In the biblical tradition, it was the king Jeroboam (in the tenth century BC), ruler of the ten tribes, who first introduced a rival cult place so that the Jews living in his kingdom would not need to go to Jerusalem. 1 Kings 12:26–33; 2 Kings 23:15; 2 Chron. 11:13–17, 13.9. 206 Jos. AJ 11.306–310. 207 Ibid. 11.310–312. 208 Ibid. 11.318–319. 209 Ibid. 11.321–324. 210 Cf. Ezr. 4:4, 10–21; Esth. 3:5–15. 211 Jos. AJ 11.330. 212 Ibid. 11.330–338. 213 Ibid. 11.338–339. 214 Cohen 1987, 412–413. 215 Cohen has listed many good kings in the Antiquities, like the good kings of Persia (Cyrus, Darius, and Xerxes) and the good Ptolemaic and Seleucid kings (Ptolemy Philadelphus, Ptolemy Philometor, and Antiochus III), and some Roman rulers like Julius Caesar, Augustus, Vipsanius Agrippa, and Publius Petronius. Ibid. 413. 216 Goodman depicts Josephus’s Jewish Antiquities as an “act of extraordinary bravery in the anti-Jewish atmosphere of the time.” Goodman 2002, 21–22. For Domitian’s hostility toward the Jews, see Smallwood 1956.
Alexander in an empire of Romans, Greeks, and Jews 87 217 Jos. AJ 11.340–345. 218 Cf. Feldman 1992a, 38. For Josephus’ passages portraying the Samaritans as a separate national entity, see Feldman 1992a, 25–31. The question of the Samaritan origin is a controversial subject. The description of it in 2 Kings 17:24–41 has been questioned by some scholars. For a criticism of the traditional view, see Dexinger 1981. 219 Jos. AJ 11.345. 220 The apologist character of Josephus’ works is widely accepted among scholars. His primary audience in the Jewish Antiquities was the Gentiles. Feldman 1992b, 289. 221 Goodman 2004, 9. 222 Ibid. 25. 223 Goodman 2004, 10. For the Jews in Rome and their temporary expulsion, see esp. Gruen 2004, 15–53. 224 Goodman 2004, 17. 225 Ibid. 21–22. 226 In the preface, Josephus explains why he is writing: “In order to convict those that reproach us of spite and voluntary falsehood, and to correct the ignorance of others, and withal to instruct all those who are desirous of knowing the truth of what great antiquity we really have.” Trans. William Whiston. Jos. Ap. 1.1.3. The criticism of the anti-Jewish rhetoric is much more direct in Against Apion than it is in the rather apologetic Jewish Antiquities. 227 Jos. Ap. 2.4.33. 228 Vrettos 2010, 6–7. 229 Jos. Ap. 2.4.34–37. 230 Jos. Ap. 2.4.35–38, 4.42–45, 6.72. 231 Jos. Ap. 2.4.42. 232 Jos. AJ 2.16.334–348. Moses as the founder and lawgiver of the Jewish nation was (and is) important for the self-definition of the Jewish people. There is some evidence that certain Greek and Roman writers did not give much respect to Moses and his achievements. Feldman 1992b, 286–287. The story of dividing the Red Sea was one of the most important events in the ‘grand’ origin of the Jewish nation. In Jewish thinking, it showed God’s support for his people and underlined Moses’ role as the most remarkable leader of the Jews. 233 Jos. AJ 2.16.347. 234 The event is referred to in the many surviving Alexander accounts. Strab. 14.3.9; Arr. an. 1.26.1; App. 2.149; Plut. Alex. 17.3–4. 235 Alexander was probably friendly towards the Jewish people and followed the tolerant policy of the Persian regime. Schäfer 2003, 6 sees it as possible that Alexander let the Jews maintain their privileges. According to Gruen, early Greek attitudes toward the Jews were more often favorable than unfavorable. Gruen 1993, 238. 236 Bowman 2008, 67. 237 Epideictic oratory in Greek can be traced back to Isocrates and the praise of Hellenistic rulers. In addition, eulogistic oratory addressed to the senate and funeral oratory form the roots of Latin panegyrics. For the panegyric of the Early Empire as the precedent for the panegyrics of Late Antiquity, see Braund 1998, 53–77; MacCormack 1976, 30–37. An important selection of the surviving epideictic speeches of Late Antiquity comes from the collection XII Panegyrici Latini (3–4) or the ‘Gallic corpus’. Alongside Pliny’s Panegyric to Trajan, it contains eleven orations from 289 to 389. Cf. Mynors & Nixon 1994, 1–10. 238 Mynors & Nixon 1994, 26–27. For the ceremonial occasion at which the panegyrics were delivered, see esp. MacCormack 1981, 1–14. 239 Quint. Inst. 3.7. Mynors & Nixon 1994, 23; Seager 1983, 129–165. 240 An important groundbreaking study was Cameron 1970. For panegyrics as propaganda, see also MacCormack 1981. 241 MacCormack 1976, 41.
88 Alexander in an empire of Romans, Greeks, and Jews 242 Mynors & Nixon 1994, 30–31. Nixon does not merely consider the Imperial panegyrics as propaganda. Mynors & Nixon 1994, 29. Speakers were professionals who surely needed minimum guidance from ‘above’ to compose an appropriate oration. They were not ‘court orators’, but professional teachers. They wrote their works in the hope of winning further fame. They often did not enjoy Imperial office at the time they delivered their speeches, but composed their speech in response to such a request. 243 The figures referred to were from both mythological times and Greek history, the Roman Republic, and the Imperial past. Mynors & Nixon 1994, 24; Nixon 1990, 1–36. 244 Cf. Mynors & Nixon 1994, 21–26; Rapp 1998, 278–279. 245 Trans. C. V. E. Nixon. Pan. Lat. 10.10.2–6: et tamen vides, imperator, non invenire me ex omni antiquitate quod comparem vobis, nisi Herculeae gentis exemplum. Nam ille quidem magnus Alexander iam mihi humilis videtur Indo regi sua regna reddendo, cum tam multi reges, imperator, vestri clientes sint, cum per te regnum receperit Gennoboudes a teque cominus acceperit. 246 The composer of the work was from Gaul, likely from Trier. Some manuscripts name Mamertinus as the author of the panegyric: cf. Mynors & Nixon 1994, 41–43. 247 In Imperial propaganda, Diocletian was the senior Augustus and Maximian his executive. These adjectives were also attributed to military units and to provincial divisions. Bowman 2008, 70–71; Mynors & Nixon 1994, 45; Leadbetter 2004, 260. 248 Rees 2002, 35. 249 Pan. Lat. 10.4.1–2, 9.4–5, 11.6–7. He refers to the Lacedaemonian kings, the Heraclidae whose father was a great-great-grandson of Heracles. 250 Plut. Alex. 2.1. 251 Arr. an. 5.19.2–3; Curt. 8.14.41–45; Plut. Alex. 60.14–15. 252 Them. Or. 15. 253 Heather, 2001 230–231. For an example of a panegyric where Theodosius’ military virtues are extolled with the help of the military virtues of Alexander, Hannibal, and Scipio, see Panegyric of Theodosius, composed by Pacatus (Pan. Lat. 2.8.3–5). Another example of using Alexander to stress Imperial virtues appears in Themistius’ 19th Oration. In his work, Themistius makes a comparison between Theodosius and Alexander’s mildness towards conspirators, which stresses the Imperial virtue of clemency. Alexander not only killed Philotas, but also Parmenion. However, the godlike emperor himself pardoned those that acted wrongly and similarly liberated guiltless people. Them. Or. 19.6. 254 Trans. David Moncur. Them. Or. 15. 190c – 190d: οὐδ’ ἂν προσιδών σέ τις μὴ ἅπαν ἐκβάλῃ τὸ δεῖμα ἐκ τῆς ψυχῆς· ὥστε καὶ τῶν πολεμίων ὁ τέως τὰς σπονδὰς ὑφορώμενος καὶ μηδὲ τραπέζης ῥᾳδίως κοινωνῆσαι θαρρήσας δι’ ὑποψίαν νῦν πρόσεισιν ἄνοπλος καὶ ἄνευ σιδήρου, διδοὺς ἑαυτὸν χρῆσθαι ὅ τι ἂν ἐθέλῃς, εἰδὼς ὅτι οὐχ ὡς ἐχθρῷ ἐθελήσεις, ἀλλ’ ὡς Ἀλέξανδρος Πώρῳ τῷ Ἰνδῷ καὶ Ἀρταξέρξης Θεμιστοκλεῖ τῷ Ἀθηναίῳ καὶ Ῥωμαῖοι τῷ Λίβυϊ Μασσανάσσῃ. 255 The speech was most likely delivered after Constantine had been proclaimed emperor by his father’s troops at York. Mynors & Nixon 1994, 212. 256 Pan. Lat. 6.17.1–2. 257 For the debate, see Minors & Nixon 1994, 215–216. According to Nixon, the speech was not part of a propaganda campaign designed for wide circulation. 258 Mynors & Nixon 1994, 288–290. The speech was probably delivered at Trier. It is most likely that the writer had made a career as a public speaker in both a private capacity and in the imperial court. 259 Pan. Lat. 12.4.4. 260 Ibid. 4.2–3. 261 Ibid. 4.3. In some other passages, the author of the work referred to other figures of the past in a way that emphasizes the emperor’s military virtues. In Pan. Lat. 12.6.1,
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the author refers to Julius Caesar, who fought against inhabitants of the barbarian region while Constantine faced soldiers. Xerxes and Augustus followed the battle from far away (at Salamis and Actium, respectively) while Constantine put himself in danger and fought side by side with his soldiers: cf. ibid. 10.1–2. This statement is a deliberate distortion for the sake of the comparison, since it is (and was then) known that Alexander fought three battles against the Persian Empire. In addition, Alexander fought many other military campaigns. For Livy’s passage see pages 31–36. For the stereotypes of Persians and Medes in Classical literature, see n. 13 of this chapter. Pan. Lat. 12.5.1–3. The author of the Panegyric repeats this theme at the end of the oration when he mentions how nations in Greece and the Orient would have been much easier to defeat than Roman or Frankish enemies. Pan. Lat. 12.24.1. Ibid. 12.1.4: ego in me de tuo favore diffidam, ut sermonem meum studio potius tui cultus quam suis viribus metiaris. It is an observation that he wants to present as his own. Lane Fox 1997 sees it as possible that the author of the work was the same who wrote the Latin translation of the Alexander Romance, namely Julius Valerius. Stoneman 2004, 177–183 supports this view. The author of the treatise probably used Arrian as his main source. In the narrative, the author’s portrayal of Alexander is two-sided. Alexander is a great leader, a heroic warrior and a king. At the same time, there are passages on his degeneration and misconduct. Alexander’s Itinerary has been translated by Lolo Davies 1998. Lane Fox 1997, 246. Stoneman 2004, 178 suggests that the work is later than 340, and earlier than 350. Itin. Alex. 3.7. The tension between Rome and Persia probably had its origin in the territorial gains achieved by the Roman Empire in the settlement of 298–299. After Shapur II became king of Persia, demands for frontier changes began. Isaac 1998, 437–438. Itin. Alex. 2.4–5. See also Lib. Or. 59.60. Itin. Alex. 4.8–9: quoniam aetas quoque alterius nunc penes te est, alterius vero consilium, quo vincis aetatem. Quippe Alexandro illi interim sic aequabere: magnus ille cognomine, tu vero maximi filius, eadem fere natus terrae sub parte eodem atque indidem ducis exercitum, numero militum par, sed melior examine . . . Ibid. 4.10–11: . . . hactenus socius exemplo, ceterum pro melito felicior; siquidem Deo praesidi acceptiora sunt vota, quae fas et modestia concepit, quam quae efferis moribus inconsulta arrogantia rapit. Ille sibi soli vicisse gloriatus factusque in amicos saevior quo felicior, fructu victoriae caruit: obiit temulentus. Saluti vero Romanae tu militans mox imperio contendes aetate, cuius te gloriae inmortalis comitabitur. Cf. Ennod. Pan. Theod. 17.80, where Ennodius extols Theoderic as a Christian as opposed to Alexander, who worshipped pagan gods. The writer states that the conquered Persians can have Roman citizenship among the provinces, where they can learn to be free. In addition, he describes the Persians as living under “arrogant rule”, which is why they have learned to be slaves in times of peace (Itin. Alex. 2.5). Furthermore, the author twice explains that the project was devised for “the safety of us all” (Itin. Alex. 3.6). Also, in Lib. Or. 59.52–55 Constantius II and Constans are compared favorably to the Persian kings and Alexander. Wienand 2014, 433–434. The emperor had previously used the city of Tarsus as his winter quarters. Lib. Or. 15.14–15. Trans. A. F. Norman. Ibid. 15.2: καὶ οὔτε τὰ πρὸ τῶν Τρωικῶν | οὔτ᾿ αὐτὸς οὗτος ὁ δεκέτης πόλεμος οὔτε τὸ γενόμενον ἐν τῇ θαλάττῃ πρὸς τὸν τοῦ νῦν Πέρσου πρόγονον τοῖς Ἕλλησιν | ἔργον οὔτε ἃ Ἀλέξανδρος ἐκλελυμένοις προσπεσὼν ἔπραξε,
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297 298 299
τούτων οὐδὲν οὐδενὸς ἀνθρώπων κατέχει τὴν ψυχὴν οὐδὲ τὴν φωνήν, ἀλλὰ πάντες πάντων ὡς μικρῶν ἀφέμενοι τῶν παρόντων ἔχονται καὶ χαίρουσιν ἀκούοντές τε καὶ λέγοντες ὁ μὲν τόλμαν, ὁ δὲ εἰσβολήν, ὁ δὲ διάπλουν, ὁ δὲ τοὺς ἐν χερσὶ πεσόντας, ὁ δὲ καθέδρας, σοφίσματα, ἀγῶνας. For views on Julian’s imitation of Alexander, see n. 98 of the first chapter of this book. We encounter this tendency not only in the panegyrics but also in the historiography of Late Antiquity. Cf. Ammian. Marc. 16.5.4–5, where Ammianus compares Julian with Alexander. In the comparison, Ammianus writes that Julian showed greater selfmastery (continentia) than Alexander did. Cameron 1970, 59. Theodosius died in 395 and left two sons, Arcadius (18 years) and Honorius (merely a child). In 394, Stilicho was appointed to take command of the Western armies. He was also Theodosius’ son-in-law. Theodosius had appointed him as guardian over his two sons. Cameron 1970, 43–44. He wrote his works in Latin (like Ammianus), although he originally spoke Greek at the court of Honorius and Stilicho. He moved to Rome in 394, where his search for rich patrons led him to the court of Honorius. In January 396, he had his ‘golden opportunity’ to write a first panegyric on Honorius. Cameron 1970, 2–3, 19–20. Cameron 1970, 66. Cameron 2016, 137–146 offers his updated view of Claudian as Stilicho’s propagandist. Gildo was an African prince, in whom Theodosius had entrusted full civil and military powers in his region. Cameron 1970, 94. The work was delivered during the festival honoring Stilicho’s first consulship. Cameron 1970, 123. Trans. Maurice Platnauer. Claud. Stil. 1.266–269: non Ganges, cum tela procul vibrantibus Indis inmanis medium vectaret belua Porum. Porus Alexandro, Memnon prostratus Achilli, Glido nempe tibi. Real admiration seems to be an unlikely motif for Claudian: cf. Cameron 1970, 42. Justinian’s Persian expedition was led by Belisarius, and Procopius served as the assessor and counselor of Belisarius. Procopius gives a favorable presentation of Belisarius. His History of the wars of Justinian provides a wholly different image compared to the narratives that we find in his Secret History, where he attacked the whole policy of Justinian. Procop. Goth. 2.2.12–13. Procop. Goth. 2.2.14–15. Plut. Alex. 5.4. Symm. Or. 3.10; Claud. Cons. Hon. 374–377. Cf. also Sid. Apoll. Carm. 5.202, where Sidonius Apollinaris in his panegyric to the emperor Majorian mentions that Alexander was tormented by his father’s glory. Cf. pages 00, which deals with the passages of Themistius and compares the potential relationship between Valentinian Galates and Arcadius to that between Alexander and Aristotle. In these passages the orator is using the image of Alexander as a boy and pupil of Aristotle as a way to eulogize the Imperial family and the stability of the Empire. Cf. Lane Fox 1997; Smith 2011. Trans. M. H. Ddgeon. Lib. Or. 59.53: Οἶμαι τοίνυν ποθεῖν τινας ἐν τῷ λόγῳ τὸν Ἀλέξανδρον ἰδεῖν τοῖν βασιλέοιν ἡττώμενον. ἔστι δὲ οὐδὲν ἔργον τὴν νίκην ταύτην ἐργάσασθαι. Besides the passages analyzed above in this subchapter the same can be read in Lib. Or. 59.24–25; Jul. 1.10 B; Sid. Apoll. Carm. 2.120–135. In these three passages the birth hour and the stories told about emperor’s birth are compared favorably with the famous tales of births of previous monarchs. In the comparison the stories surrounding the emperor’s birth are ‘proved’ accurate and truthful, unlike the miraculous and sensational fabricated stories of Alexander’s birth and divine parentage.
Alexander in an empire of Romans, Greeks, and Jews 91 300 Jord. Get. 23.116. Cf. Ennod. Pan. Theod. 17.79, 80 discussed in pages 140–141 as another passage where the non-Roman monarch is compared with Alexander to eulogize his qualities and character. 301 In the Alexander Romance tradition too, the image of Alexander as the conqueror of Darius and Porus is to the fore. However, in the Romance this image is highly romanticized, which is evident in the fictitious accounts of Alexander entering the enemy camps disguised as a messenger, encountering both monarchs, and returning safely. Alex. Rom. 2.13.1–15.14, 3.3.2–4. 302 Cf. recently Asirvatham 2014, 109–127, has examined the Ethiopian layers in the Alexander Romance tradition. See also the different articles in Zuwiyya 2011, which deal with the Alexander Romance traditions in Scandinavia, Egypt, Persia, etc. 303 Schott 2008, 7 sees the Constitutio Antoniniana of 212 – which granted citizenship to all free residents of the Empire – as a factor that created a ‘transnational’ identity. Caracalla’s edict marked the re-evaluation of Romanness, after which most upper-class residents of the Empire probably shared a ‘transnational’ identification with Rome. It is possible that this development was behind the fact that the figure of Alexander is rarely referred to when it comes to constructing ethnic identities in the literature of the Later Empire. 304 Some historians do not like the latter term at all, as the ‘Byzantines’ always called themselves ‘Romans’; some date it from the fall of the Western Empire; and some (as I would) date it from the Arab Conquests, when its character changed most dramatically.
3
Alexander as a model of behavior
In the Roman world, many philosophical and pedagogical texts dealt with moral and immoral behavior. In this chapter, I will show how and why Alexander became a topic of intellectual discussion about such themes as proper education, wine, anger, and self-control, and even the status of philosophers. The main questions are the following: What argumentative strategies do philosophers and pedagogues use when they refer to Alexander as ‘good’ and ‘bad’ or as an example to imitate or avoid; what lessons do these references to Alexander hope to transmit; and, are certain presentations of Alexander popular in philosophical texts? Most of the philosophers and pedagogues aimed to offer didactic lessons to their contemporary audience. Their moralistic writings address individuals from a philosophical perspective. Traditionally, in the history of philosophy, the period between the emergence of Hellenistic philosophy (Stoic, Epicurean, and Skeptic) and the third century has been labeled eclectic.1 Among the philosophical schools in Rome, Stoic philosophy held a superior position.2 However, it can be argued that the majority of Roman intellectuals did not adhere to any particular philosophical school but accepted elements of competing systems, such as the Stoic, Epicurean, and Platonist. My starting point is similar to Richard Stoneman’s, who suggests that, in philosophical writings, Alexander became an exemplum for education, probably as more of a rhetorical piece of argument than as a ‘pro’ or ‘anti’ historical judgment.3 Stoneman writes: “The conclusion I draw is that Cynic treatments use Alexander as a ‘tool for thinking with’, not simply as an object of praise or blame.”4 Yet, Stoneman neither tests this claim nor elaborates it further.5 In this chapter, I shall investigate what other functions the references to Alexander possessed in addition to being a ‘tool for thinking with’. I shall argue that the dichotomist division between ‘pro’ and ‘anti’ is not merely an oversimplification but positively misleading. The image of Alexander as a philosopher – king has been recognized in previous research. This concept encompasses the characterization of the king as a ‘philosopher’, as a ‘philosophical’ individual, or, in some contexts, as a king who especially appreciated the company of philosophers.6 At times, scholars have tried to detect Greco-Roman views about Alexander and philosophy.7 Roman philosophical passages concerning Alexander could easily be considered as either ‘pro’
Alexander as a model of behavior 93 or ‘against’ the Macedonian king’s opinions. However, it is debatable whether Greco-Roman writers were expressing views about Alexander (as a historical person) at all. I therefore explore what the Roman writers wanted to say, or ‘teach’, through the use of the king’s story, and not what their supposed views or images of Alexander actually were. It is also important to keep in mind that the image of Alexander as a philosopher, which we mainly encounter in the works of Greek authors such as Plutarch and Dio Chrysostom, was not the only presentation in the pedagogical or philosophical context. Here I demonstrate that his positive image as a philosopher – king and negative image as a barbarous and immature tyrant were both popular ways of presenting Alexander in philosophically oriented moralistic writings; more important than the positive or negative image of the king were the lessons the writers wanted to transmit in their texts. In the first subchapter, I approach the literary tradition of Alexander’s education and his relationship with his mentors, from the angle of contemporary discussions on pedagogy. In the second subchapter, I explore how the stories of Alexander’s encounter with Diogenes and Indian Brahmans promoted a philosophical lifestyle by portraying the ideal sage. This subchapter mainly focuses on the image of Alexander as a ‘philosophical’ or ‘philosopher’ – king. The third subchapter discusses anger management and wine by addressing the opposite image of Alexander: that of a tyrant unable to control himself. The last section handles the discourse on the vanity of world conquest and the limits of gloria.
Marketing proper paideia – What should elite education involve? Famous individuals and their early lives interested ancient educators and moralists. Thus, it is not surprising that Alexander’s childhood and early education aroused great interest among intellectuals of the ancient world. The literary tradition concerning Alexander’s education was created in the early Hellenistic world.8 Later, in the Roman period, stories of Alexander’s education still offered argumentative material for debates on education and pedagogy. In this subchapter, I deal with Greek and Latin passages written in the Imperial period. First, I examine how the Greek Roman writers Dio Chrysostom and Plutarch utilized Alexander as a champion of Hellenic paideia (παιδεία) and as an avid reader of Homer. Second, I turn to passages from Quintilian, Jerome, and Himerius. These writers wrote about upbringing and education, and it is therefore unsurprising that we encounter references to Alexander’s education in their texts. The main question of this subchapter is how and why ancient writers chose to write about the king’s education in different (or similar) ways in different periods starting from first century. The concept of paideia formed an intellectual and social background to early Imperial Greek literature and functioned as an indicator of high class. Paideia may be seen both as a formal type of education for the elite and as a wider culture shared by Greek local elites.9 Wealth naturally provided the means to display
94 Alexander as a model of behavior paideia, and served to differentiate the elite from the uneducated and uncultured masses and to legitimate its political authority. For the elite, being pepaideumenos (πεπαιδευμένος refers to a person who has acquired paideia) was a social status ensuring an individual’s cultural and political authority.10 There was also a shared stock of historical paradigms supporting the value of paideia and supporting the status of writers of Greek origin as experts in that knowledge. This is the context in which we encounter literary depictions of young Alexander and his education in the Roman world. Although the image of Alexander as a passionate philhellene probably appeared in the early Hellenistic tradition, we do not encounter such a representation in Roman Latin accounts. In the Latin texts of the Early Empire, there are barely any references to Alexander’s enthusiasm for Greek literature, his appreciation of Homer, or his interest in Classical philosophy. However, Greek Roman writers of the Early Empire, such as Dio Chrysostom and Plutarch, depict the king as a product of Greek culture. Instead of considering their passages as views of Alexander, we should regard them as promotions of the greatness of Greek heritage and of the Greeks’ position as experts in that field of knowledge. An example of this is Dio Chrysostom’s Second discourse on kingship. It stresses the importance of Greek paideia and its value in political life through Alexander’s portrait as the advocate and admirer of Greek wisdom, and especially of Homer. The Second discourse on kingship is arranged in the form of a dialogue held between Philip of Macedon and Alexander.11 Philip and Alexander are in the city of Dio, and they begin to converse about Homer and kingship. In the textual imagery, Alexander is a young prince full of enthusiasm for learning, while Philip tries to dampen his son’s eagerness and passion for education. It is the son, the philosopher – king of the future, who teaches his father the profits of the traditional Greek culture, especially Homer. Interestingly, by the end of the discussion, the father accepts his son’s arguments and praises Alexander for valuing Homer.12 The father – son discussion starts with Alexander’s devotion to Homer and his neglect of other poets. Alexander tells his father: “The poetry of Homer is alone truly noble and lofty and suited to a king.”13 A king should draw his education from Homer because his works have everything. Alexander is presented as supporting the very old and venerable Greek idea that Homer’s works are comprehensive and complete: they range from discussing how to lead troops to the proper attitude towards luxury and the art of rhetoric. Dio Chrysostom’s Alexander is devoted to Homer: On my word, father, I not only cannot endure to hear any other poet recited but Homer, but even object to any other metre than Homer’s heroic hexameter.14 Homer’s cultural authority framed the traditional Greek paideia.15 During the Hellenistic and Imperial eras, Homer’s position was never questioned in the Greekspeaking world. Moreover, Homer had already been introduced into Italy as a nonliterary presence by the Greek colonists of the eighth and seventh centuries BC. The adoption of Troy as the site of Roman genesis and Homer’s role in the
Alexander as a model of behavior 95 Roman educational system, as in tutorial studies and as a model of recording history in Latin epic, speak to the growing popularity of the poet in the Latin parts of the Early Empire.16 The image of Homer as Alexander’s tutor promoted the utility of Greek paideia in the Roman world. Dio wrote his discourses after his exile and it is disputed whether he addressed these discourses to Trajan or not.17 If the emperor belonged to the primary audience of the Second discourse on kingship, it was to support his philhellenism. Plutarch is another Greek writer of the Early Empire to portray the young king as the product and defender of Hellenic paideia. In the Life of Alexander, Alexander’s early education, his passion for Homer, and his yearning for philosophy form a prominent part of the work. Plutarch’s idealized Alexander is presented as the result of the efforts made for the young prince’s education. Plutarch mentions that many nurturers (τροφεῖς), tutors (παιδαγωγοί), and teachers (διδάσκαλοι) were appointed to care for the young prince. In Plutarch, the greatest of them was Leonidas, who is called a foster-father (τροφεύς) and preceptor (καθηγητής) to the young prince. There was also Lysimachus (a native of Arcania) who was Alexander’s official tutor (παιδαγωγός).18 Philip’s decision to employ Aristotle as his son’s teacher related to the young Alexander’s abilities. Thus, Philip chose not to entrust his son’s training to ordinary teachers of poetry and ‘formal’ studies, but instead chose to hire the most famous and learned teacher, Aristotle.19 The king’s later success is depicted as a result of his Greek upper-class education. In addition, Plutarch presents Alexander’s relationship with Homer and philosophy as an ideal. Alexander himself is characterized as a ‘lover of learning’ (φύσει φιλόλογος). Plutarch mentions that the young king named the Iliad a manual for the military art and kept Aristotle’s copy of the work in a casket under his pillow.20 Later in the narrative, Plutarch mentions that the king’s friends asked Alexander what valuable object he would have deposited in the small coffer in which Darius kept his most precious things. Alexander answered that he would put the Iliad there for safekeeping. Plutarch reminds his audience that this statement reveals how important a companion Homer was to the king on his campaigns.21 In other words, Plutarch is implying that it was the wisdom Alexander gained from Homer’s works – arguably the most famous product of Greek literature – that made his great achievements possible. According to Plutarch, even though Alexander’s admiration and love for Aristotle diminished after some time, his yearning for philosophy did not disappear. In the narrative, Plutarch tries to convince his audience of the king’s penchant for philosophy by referring to the honor he bestowed upon Anaxarchus, the gift of fifty talents he presented to Xenocrates, and the attention he gave to Indian philosophers.22 In the essay On the fortune or the virtue of Alexander the Great, Alexander’s compulsion for Greek literature and philosophy is even more stressed.23 Alexander is portrayed as the philosopher ‘in arms’ whose exceptional reign shows that he was a true philosopher, and whose great career was due not to fortune but to his virtues based on Greek paideia. The king spent his spare time reading philosophical literature and treaties on fearlessness, courage, self-control (σωφροσύνη), and clemency (μεγαλοψυχία).24 The king carried the Iliad and the
96 Alexander as a model of behavior Odyssey on his expedition to conquer the Persian Empire.25 His early education was a grand success, and his attitude towards learning was worthy of imitation. In Dio Chrysostom and Plutarch, Alexander is depicted as a civilized king educated by Homer and Greek philosophy. It can be argued that Dio Chrysostom and Plutarch promoted, above all else, Greek paideia with the help of an idealized portrait of Alexander. His education was depicted as equally glorious to his later career. They were not only praising Alexander himself, but Greek literature and philosophy. It is true that in the Roman Republic, Greek education was regarded with ambivalence, sometimes with suspicion.26 However, in most parts of the Roman Empire, the Greek pattern of education was adopted in the third and second centuries BC. Aristocratic Roman families hired Greek-speaking tutors for their children.27 Living in the former Greek city-states ruled by the Roman Empire, writers like Dio Chrysostom and Plutarch wanted to emphasize their favorable position before their Roman lords by strengthening their status as the provincial Greek speaking upper class. Maintaining and defending their sociopolitical position in Roman society encouraged the Greek writers to make references to Alexander – a king raised with a Hellenic education and philosophy. Plutarch’s passages concerning Alexander support the basic concept that good education is associated with virtuous behavior and poor education with moral failings.28 Seen in this light, his and Dio’s passages promote the importance of continuing adult education. We will also encounter this pedagogical thinking in the passages of both Roman Latin and Christian authors. As stated above, Roman Latin writers did not write about Alexander’s enthusiasm for Greek literature, Homer, or Classical philosophy. Passages from Quintilian (ca. 35 – ca. 100) and Jerome (ca. 347–420) show that the king’s education provided good/imitable and bad/avoidable exempla in the discourse on pedagogy, but without the Greek patriotic tone of Plutarch’s and Dio Chrysostom’s works. Quintilian’s famous work on the art of rhetoric, The orator’s education, concerns the training of an orator from birth to the peak of his career.29 Quintilian uses Alexander’s early education to stress the importance of choosing skilled tutors for early education. In the first part of The orator’s education, Quintilian warns the reader about preceptors who are supposed to teach the alphabet, but who wrongly consider themselves as possessing ‘real knowledge’ and consequently teach subjects they are not proficient in. In the educational system of Rome, the first step was to teach children the alphabet, then the habit of reading aloud was enforced in primary schools (for boys and girls aged 7–11).30 The teacher instructed pupils on how to write letters by guiding the children’s hands or by giving them wax tablets and making them follow the letter shapes with a stilus. This task was often given to a slave. Quintilian declares that unskilled preceptors should not exceed their authority as this would be prejudicial to morals. As a warning, Quintilian quotes Diogenes of Babylon’s text about Alexander’s pedagogue Leonides. In the presentation, this preceptor caused Alexander harm in his early years, and these faults followed the king into his mature years.31 Quintilian does not clarify what kind of harm he is referring to, but he probably means moral failures. In contrast to
Alexander as a model of behavior 97 Plutarch, Quintilian’s depiction of Alexander’s flawed early education indicates why it is vital to choose qualified and capable teachers for the young. In the light of this example, parents should prevent unskilled preceptors from exceeding their station in their children’s early education. As an example to follow, Quintilian mentions that King Philip wanted to ensure that Alexander’s early education was taken seriously.32 In Quintilian’s text, Aristotle would not have undertaken the task if Alexander’s early education had been neglected. The point is that a child’s instruction ought to commence with the most qualified teacher, because these early years affect later education. Quintilian states that the education of every child born into an upper-class Roman family deserves as much attention and care as Alexander’s did.33 It is arguable that Quintilian was marketing his own services and expert knowledge. In The orator’s education he presents himself as an expert in pedagogy who knows how to arrange for the proper education of members of the Roman elite. As King Philip had, Quintilian’s Roman audience was expected to do their best to support and invest in the profession that Quintilian himself represented. If members of the Roman upper classes wished to raise men as great as Alexander, then they had to pay attention to the rules of pedagogy. In the Classical world, teaching was often organized around individual teachers rather than around specific institutions.34 It is thus not surprising that Greek Roman and Latin Roman passages concerning pedagogy emphasize the importance of finding skillful masters for children. Some 300 years later, the Christian writer Jerome followed Quintilian’s course of argument, and thus chose the example of Alexander’s education to emphasize the importance of finding a child a good teacher. The text in question is Jerome’s letter to his friend Laeta, a Christian aristocratic woman who was planning a proper education for her daughter, Paula the Younger.35 Like Quintilian, Jerome depicts the relationship that Alexander maintained with Aristotle as exemplary, but presents the king’s relationship with Leonides as a warning. First, in characterizing a good teacher and the ideal relationship the latter ought to maintain with a pupil, Jerome suggests that Laeta choose a master like Aristotle. Aristotle built a warm relation with Alexander by sending him letters even when he was abroad.36 In the next passage of the letter, Jerome stresses the importance of proper early education with the argument that the seeds of evil habits and faults apparent in adulthood are planted during childhood. Even Alexander, ‘the mighty king and subjugator of the whole world’ ( potentissimum regem orbisque domitorem) did not have control over his faults (vitia) because it was the poor education and guidance he received under Leonides that provoked them. According to Jerome, these faults learned in childhood are comparable to wool: it is impossible to dye a white color red once it has already been altered to red.37 It is not surprising that a Christian writer like Jerome used exempla previously exploited by Quintilian. Christian education in Late Antiquity exploited and adapted Classical pedagogy and its possibilities. Standard literary conventions and liberal arts, like grammar and rhetoric especially, were followed by the Christians.38 By showing his familiarity with the Classical tradition, Jerome emphasized his status as a member of the elite. The fact that Quintilian’s passages
98 Alexander as a model of behavior were used in Christian epistolary advice is indicative of how Classical education, alongside the biblical tradition, formed an educational model for the Christians of the Roman Empire. If Christian intellectuals had received a Classical education, they exploited it in their argumentation just as non-Christians did.39 The past provided pedagogues of the Roman Empire with a vast corpus of teaching material. Schoolmasters could motivate their students with the example of the Macedonian king. This function of the past appears in an oration delivered by Himerius, a non-Christian teacher of rhetoric, intended to spur young students to study diligently.40 The oration, written in Himerius’ school in fourth-century Athens, was used as a welcoming speech to new students. The oration recounts an incident in which Alexander wanted to follow his father into battle, but was too young do to so.41 As a response to his father’s refusal to take him along, Alexander told the story of noble puppies being trained to follow in hunts from an early age. Finally, with the help of this justification, Alexander swayed his father and was allowed to follow him. According to Himerius, therefore, it was Alexander’s early military experience which made him so successful and famous in his adult career.42 Himerius’ young pupils are therefore urged to imitate the young Alexander in his eagerness for learning. On the one hand, the king’s eagerness for learning stresses the importance of taking one’s early education seriously from the start, and, on the other hand, Alexander’s military victories and fame serve to motivate the young students to achieve glorious ends. Accordingly, in the last lines of the oration, Himerius encourages his audience to learn things by themselves.43 His audience consisted of a mix of both new students and established members of the elite.44 In presenting the young Alexander as a model for his students, Himerius was connecting the present moment to the glorious ancient past. The past was used to teach lessons and motivate individuals in the present to act in the desired way. In the Alexander Romance tradition Alexander’s youth and education is idealized. Its image of Alexander is that of the ideal pupil of Aristotle and Greek education.45 In the Romance Alexander is an exceptional boy who encourages his parents to solve their marital problems.46 When portraying Alexander as the ideal royal pupil the Romance highlights the importance of paideia and shares the view of the texts discussed above that great men are made by their parent’s choice to invest in their education when they are children.47 However, since we do not know who composed the first version or versions of the Romance, we cannot say what his relationship with Greek paideia was or what part Greek paideia played in Alexander’s upbringing. Nevertheless, we can argue that the authors writing about Alexander’s education and who are discussed in this subchapter were constructing their position as the representatives of Classical pedagogy. At the same time, they were marketing themselves as experts in that knowledge. Lessons of the past, drawn from accounts of Alexander’s education, related to the authors’ own interests. The historical exempla were not neutral media but were chosen deliberately to support these authors’ arguments. The Greek Roman writers idealized Alexander’s education and stressed its Greekness. The image of Alexander as a young prince worthy of imitation educated by Homer and Greek philosophy seems to be an aspect of their patriotic self-promotion. In contrast, Quintilian, writing as a Latin-speaking Roman, had no reason to emphasize the greatness of
Alexander as a model of behavior 99
Figure 3.1 Alexander the Great as an infant with a nymph. It shows how the idealized portraiture of the early years of the heroic and divine Alexander was known to the people of the Mediterranean and used as a tool for thought and imagination. Mosaic from Baalbek (modern Lebanon), 4th century AD. Source: Photo by Egisto Sani. Copyright by Ministry of Culture/Directorate General of Antiquities of Lebanon/National Museum of Beirut.
Homer or the Greek origins of Alexander’s education. Rather, the example of the Macedonian king’s education provided Quintilian with material to support his own line of reasoning on how parents should give attention to the early education of their children. The legacy of Quintilian’s pedagogy was still cherished by the Christian elite, who based their formal education on the Classical tradition. In Jerome’s letter, the stories of Alexander’s early education were regarded as reference points, as in Quintilian. Neither writer was particularly interested in the historicity of these stories, but these historical exempla nonetheless supported their argumentation. Traditional education was also seen by the Christians as a means for advancing the careers of the elite, whether those careers were political, literary, or ecclesiastical. The literary imagery of the king as a talented ‘schoolboy’, as in Himerius’ work, offered the young members of the elite and their parents a lesson, in the hope that they would become ‘great’ figures of authority in society.
The philosopher – king and the portrait of the ideal sage The literary tradition of Alexander’s encounter with Diogenes the Cynic,48 and the Indian wise men, appears often in Roman philosophically oriented texts. As
100 Alexander as a model of behavior in the above cases of promoting proper education, these encounters created moralistic reference points for ancient writers. This subchapter not only investigates the ways in which philosophically oriented writers depict these meetings, but also examines the ideological functions of these stories. Here, I answer two questions: What philosophical arguments and self-fashioning were these passages made to support? Why do we meet references to the encounter between the king and the philosopher especially in philosophically oriented texts? An important concern of our study is how the meeting and the short dialogue that followed change according to the writers’ themes and rhetorical strategies. My sources contain all central texts dating between the Late Republic and the Later Empire that refer to these matters. As an exception, however, I also examine Christian passages concerning Alexander’s meeting with Diogenes and the Indian Brahmans in chapter 5, which concentrates on the uses of Alexander in Christian literature. In this subchapter, I start with the Roman Latin writers Valerius Maximus, Cicero, Juvenal, Seneca, and Epictetus and then analyze the Greek texts of Philo of Alexandria, Dio Chrysostom, Marcus Aurelius, and Julian. Meetings and discussions between kings and philosophers were commonplace themes in Classical literature.49 As the most famous representative of Cynicism, Diogenes Sinope was known for his witty sayings, his ascetic way of life and his shameless acts,50 so it is unsurprising that Alexander’s famous meeting with Diogenes received a lot of attention in Roman and Greek philosophical treatises. Previous research on this topic has mainly concentrated on the origin of the anecdote of Alexander’s and Diogenes’ meeting, on the more technical aspects of the story, and on whether the encounter involved hostility towards Alexander. Philip Bosman suggested that the origin of the anecdote was not a χρεία (pregnant sentence, maxim) used in rhetorical training, but instead was Onesicritus’ Education of Alexander.51 Bosman argued against interpreting the story as an attempt to denigrate Alexander or as showing hostility towards him, instead suggesting that the encounter with the Cynic favors him.52 In contrast to these previous discussions, I do not approach the anecdote from the angle of whether it favors Alexander or Diogenes, or whether the separate exempla are either positive or negative. Rather, I examine the ideological functions the story had in the Roman texts.53 In addition, I relate the meeting of Alexander and Diogenes to the passages concerning Alexander and the Indian ascetics. In the story, Alexander met Diogenes before launching his Asian expedition in 336 BC.54 There are variations on the occurrence of the supposed event and naturally several writers adapted and invented new parts of the legendary meeting. However, the basic course of the meeting usually follows the same pattern. Alexander wanted to meet Diogenes, and when he saw him basking in the sun asked if there was anything he could do for the him. In response, Diogenes declared that he desired nothing, but asked only that the king step out of the sunlight as his figure was blocking it. In some versions, after the response, Alexander shows admiration for Diogenes and exclaims: “If I were not Alexander, I would be Diogenes.”
Alexander as a model of behavior 101 The philosophical schools of the Classical world, like the Cynics, Stoics, Platonists, and Peripatetics, agreed that striving for such things as vulgar, materialistic pursuits (food, drink, physical wealth, money, and other material possessions) and good status (honor) appealed to wrongful emotions and that these desires blocked the path to true happiness. In contrast, an individual with a philosophical mindset allowed his hopes of happiness to rest on the capacity of his inner person, which is, moreover, fundamentally in tune with nature and the structure of reality.55 Imperial-era Stoics were the most extreme on this matter: some external pleasures might be rational to pursue but they were not connected to happiness.56 For them, the chief element was the state of mind in which the individual made his choices and acted. In this philosophical milieu, the idealized figure of Diogenes came to represent the individual’s ability and will to lift himself above all secondary strivings. The anecdote on the Alexander and Diogenes encounter was intended as an expression of the ideal way of thinking and acting for every philosophically oriented person. In the accounts of Valerius Maximus, Cicero and Juvenal (ca. 60-ca. 135), the encounter between Alexander and Diogenes shows how secondary objectives – especially in the form of material wealth – can be turned down. Valerius Maximus writes about the meeting, and the action of Xenocrates, in the section dealing with abstinence (abstinentia) and continence (continentia).57 Valerius states that Alexander had acquired a reputation for being unconquerable, but he could not conquer the continence of Diogenes. The king tried to make an impression on the Cynic with his riches (divitiae), but in vain. In another passage, Valerius writes that Alexander wanted to buy the friendship of Xenocrates, who was not willing to sell his friendship for several talents.58 The incorruptible nature of a true philosopher and a proper attitude toward wealth are highlighted in the passage where Cicero deals with the desire of money ( pecuniae cupiditatis). Cicero states that many philosophers of many schools have shown a negative attitude towards wealth. After mentioning Socrates, he takes two examples, the philosophers Xenocrates and Diogenes, to whom Alexander offered money or services. For Cicero, Diogenes did not miss the pleasures (voluptas) with which the king could never be sated, while the king was incapable of enjoying the pleasures that the philosopher experienced. In the passage, Cicero calls Alexander the king of Persia, which is anachronistic since the supposed encounter took place in Greece before the campaign against Darius.59 In Juvenal, the position of wealth in society and its harmfulness are discussed. According to Juvenal, wealth brings men various fears and troubles: mainly the fear of losing it. Juvenal compares the rich man Licinius to the unadorned Cynic (nudi cynici referring to Diogenes). Licinius made enormous efforts to protect his possessions, while the Cynic did not fear to lose his tub. In other words, he had nothing to lose – Diogenes could always make a new home tomorrow. Without owning anything he could not lose anything. In Juvenal’s presentation, Alexander realizes the essential philosophical fact that the tub’s ‘mighty occupant’ (magnum habitatorem), a man without desires (qui nil cuperet), was happier than the one who claimed to be a conqueror of the entire world.60
102 Alexander as a model of behavior These passages from Valerius Maximus, Cicero, and Juvenal underline that Alexander offered Diogenes anything he wanted, but the philosopher rejected the king’s tempting offer. Their passages can be seen as part of the contemporary anti-wealth discussions. These texts criticized the prevalent materialistic values of Roman society – especially their effect on the lives of the mainstream contemporary elites. The passages above were part of a strategy in which the writer isolated himself from the other members of the Roman elite whose strivings were centered upon commerce and luxury. Simultaneously, the writer made himself one in the continuum of the illustrious philosophers of the past. From these passages, we can see how the author highlights the parts of the anecdote that support his line of reasoning. In more straightforwardly Stoic texts, instead of stressing the love of material wealth and money, Diogenes’ reaction to Alexander’s offer symbolizes the rejection of all misleading and wrong passions and indifference. Seneca’s On Benefits expresses the application of Stoic conduct on the proper way to give and receive a gift.61 Alexander is presented as a negative exemplum when both giving and receiving a gift.62 In the fifth book, Seneca compares Alexander and Diogenes twice. In the first passage, Seneca characterizes Diogenes as a man who is ‘withdrawn beyond the reach of every lust (cupiditas)’ who is scarcely touched at all by any human desires (humanis desideriis). Seneca compares the greatness of these two figures: Far more powerful, far richer was he than Alexander, who then was master of the whole world; for what Diogenes refused to receive was even more than Alexander was able to give.63 In the figure of Diogenes, Seneca portrays the prototype of a sage (sapiens, σοφός) who has reached the desired ideal condition of self and ideal attitudes towards secondary strivings.64 Stoics doubted how many individuals ever in fact completed this process of development, and this example was conceivably more about providing an inspiring ideal than an exemplum of everyday reality.65 As in the other passages above, Seneca depicts Alexander as an antithesis to the Cynic, underlining the difference between the Stoic ideal and its furthest extreme. In Seneca, the greatness of Alexander is presented as insignificant (or even denied) in comparison to that of the philosopher, whose true richness lies in his freedom from all harmful passions. Greek writers tended to present Alexander’s admiration for Diogenes positively, rather than presenting the king as an opulent seducer of famous philosophers. In Plutarch’s writings, Alexander – as a philosophical king – and Diogenes – as an ideal sage – both receive enormous praise. In his texts, Alexander’s offer to Diogenes, or the fifty talents he sent Xenocrates, are not presented negatively but rather symbolize the king’s genuine respect for philosophers and philosophy.66 Plutarch included the king’s famous saying after encountering Diogenes, “Truly I say to you, if I were not Alexander, I would be Diogenes,” in several of his narratives.67 In the Life of Alexander, the king says this to his followers – who were
Alexander as a model of behavior 103 laughing and jesting about the philosopher. According to Plutarch, the reason for this reaction was the king’s admiration for the ‘haughtiness’ (ὑπεροψία) and ‘grandeur of the man’ (μέγεθος).68 Plutarch explains this saying explicitly in his essay On the fortune or the virtue of Alexander the Great. Alexander states that if he did not actively practice philosophy, he would attempt to apply its theory in life. In addition, if the king had not devoted himself to civilizing barbarian continents, he would not be sitting quietly in the luxury of idle power; he would imitate the Cynic’s frugality.69 In On exile, Plutarch eulogizes Diogenes on the grounds that Alexander showed respect towards him.70 The king’s response to his meeting with Diogenes is probably Plutarch’s addition to the story.71 In Plutarch’s work, Diogenes represents one of the greatest and most famous Greek philosophers. The way Alexander showed respect towards Diogenes was indicative of his nature as a philosopher – king who had not only received a Greek education, but who also promoted that education when he encountered great philosophers. In On the fortune or the virtue of Alexander the Great, Plutarch portrayed the king’s philhellenism as philosophy in practice. As in many other passages, the anecdote has clear patriotic overtones. While praise of both Alexander and Diogenes is most clearly exemplified in Plutarch’s writings, praise can also be found in the texts of other Greek philosophically oriented writers. In Maximus of Tyre’s works, Diogenes and Alexander are both represented as seeking ‘happiness’.72 Simplicius’ On Epictetus’ Handbook deals with the concept of self-control. He creates an imagined occasion where a person exercises the power of self-denial by rejecting the almost irresistible delicacies provided by the ‘master of the feast’.73 According to Simplicius, Diogenes’ answer to Alexander revealed the ‘gallantry of the philosopher’s soul’, and the king’s reaction was motivated by true admiration for the philosopher. The Macedonian considered the philosopher a ‘braver’ and a ‘greater’ man than himself, which is why he uttered the famous reply quoted by Plutarch. Unsurprisingly, the king’s admiring comment about the Cynic also appears in Diogenes Laertius’s Lives and opinions of eminent philosophers, written perhaps in the first half of the third century.74 In this work, Alexander’s statement demonstrates the legacy and respect the Sinopean enjoyed in philosophical circles. Lucian’s Dialogues of the dead has an imaginative tale of an encounter between Alexander and Diogenes in the Underworld.75 In the discussion Diogenes reminds Alexander of the limits to a king’s aspiration for divinity and wordly fame – in death the great king is equal to those he killed. The setting is reminiscent of the tradition where the Cynic teaches the king with his witty remarks, even though they have both passed away. In Classical literature, Diogenes was not the only philosopher – sage Alexander encountered. Alexander also encountered Indian sages called Brahmans during his Indian expedition.76 Sometimes, as in Arrian’s Anabasis, the king’s encounter with Diogenes and the Indian sages are linked.77 In the passage from Plutarch discussed above, the king claimed that due to his conquests the Indian sages came to know about Diogenes, and vice versa.78 One of the Indian philosophers was named Calanus, who was said to have accompanied Alexander
104 Alexander as a model of behavior from Taxila to Pasargadae, and the majority of the sources depict Alexander and Calanus as friends.79 In Plutarch and Arrian, the role of the Indian sages in the story of Alexander serves to underline the respect that the king showed towards theoretical and ascetic philosophy. Philo of Alexandria refers to Calanus and Alexander in his treatise Every good man is free.80 In Philo, Calanus is portrayed as a man who demonstrated sovereignty and freedom.81 In the same passage, Alexander promises Calanus that he would acquire the greatest glory in the whole of Asia and Europe if he would take up his abode with him. In other words, the king was offering secondary enticements that would have threatened the philosopher’s autonomy. In contrast to other traditions, Calanus – in Philo’s account – refuses to accompany the king.82 After attempting to persuade him by ‘fair means’, as Philo calls it, Alexander said: “You shall be compelled to follow me.” In response Calanus answered in ‘great felicity’ and ‘noble spirit’: What shall I be worth to you, Alexander, for exhibiting me to the Greeks if I am compelled to do what I do not wish to do?83 It was these words and a letter that Calanus wrote to Alexander which, according to Philo, reveal the nature of true freedom. After quoting Calanus’ letter, Philo states: The freedom of the virtuous is also vouched for by the poets and prose writers, in whose thoughts Greeks and barbarians alike are reared almost from the cradle.84 No matter where you are from, you can be a virtuous man by rejecting ‘material offers’ and maintaining your autonomy in the perfect sense. Philo was himself a Jew from Alexandria, and Calanus an Indian. Philo’s audience most likely included both Gentiles and Jews.85 In this multiethnic context, Calanus’ rejection of Alexander reflected the writer’s own position. Implicitly, Philo places himself among the group of philosophers who possess the knowledge required for autonomy and freedom. Alexander represents absolute earthly authority, but as in the case of Diogenes, the invincible king is forced to back down before a great and immovable philosopher – soul. There is nothing that could compromise the absolute freedom and autonomy of the virtuous sage. The story of Alexander’s encounters with Diogenes and Calanus was linked to the writers’ self-fashioning. This motive seems to be behind every passage analyzed here, especially in Seneca’s On Benefits and Philo’s texts, but a similar function can also be found in Dio Chrysostom’s, Marcus Aurelius’, and Julian’s passages on Alexander and Diogenes. Dio Chrysostom’s Fourth discourse on kingship is arranged around the meeting and the subsequent discussion in which the Cynic guides the king.86 It might have been addressed to the Emperor Trajan, and it was written after Dio’s exile, which had taken place under Domitian’s regime of 81–96.87 In the discourse, Alexander, who wants to make his name the greatest
Alexander as a model of behavior 105 of all and to be honored not only by the whole of mankind, but also by birds and beasts, is still willing and able to hear the words of a true philosopher.88 Dio’s oration treats themes like freedom of speech/frankness (παρρησία) and independence from material wealth. His choice of the meeting of Alexander and Diogenes as an example could be an indirect reference to Dio’s own position in relation to Trajan or Roman high officials. Like Alexander, who wanted to listen to the teachings of Diogenes, Dio’s audience should also pay attention to his own writings. In his Meditations Marcus Aurelius (121–180) presents two different lifestyles, one of political aspirations and another pursuing philosophy. He compares Alexander, Caesar, and Pompey to Diogenes, Heraclitus, and Socrates.89 Marcus states that the latter three saw reality, reason, and material, and their guiding spirit was their own. The former, however, worried about many things and were slaves to many things. Implicitly, Marcus is saying that he, as a philosopher – emperor, is different from many previous leaders, who did not try to achieve philosophical perfection through moral progress. As we know, Marcus Aurelius had a philosophical education and he was considered excellent and well-educated, and as a philosopher on the Imperial throne.90 In addition to promoting Stoic doctrines to his audience, or practicing philosophy by writing his work, Marcus provides proper self-fashioning in his Meditations.91 Although his Meditations were probably not composed to be published, since they omit the references necessary for an outside reader, the comparison between the three leaders and the three philosophers can be still seen as a passage where the emperor tries to distinguish himself from his predecessors.92 Emperor Julian (360–363) followed the example of Marcus Aurelius and presented himself as a philosopher – emperor and as a defender of Hellenism. In Against the uneducated Cynics, written in Constantinople in 362, Julian refers to Alexander’s respect for Diogenes as a part of his self-fashioning.93 In contrast to Marcus, who differentiates himself from the Macedonian king, Julian claims to show the same attitude towards the legacy of Diogenes as Alexander did. Against the uneducated Cynics is about defining the right expression of philosophy according to Julian’s own concept of philosophy and cultural policy. Diogenes himself is presented as a man who respects traditional Greek religion. In the oration, Julian accuses his contemporary Cynics of disrespecting Diogenes, as they accuse the philosopher of ‘vainglory’ and of not following his teachings. In demonstrating their false conduct, Julian treats the matter of what a real Cynical lifestyle should be like and how philosophy should be taught. He refers to many Greeks who respect Diogenes. At the end of the Oration, Julian refers to Alexander as a philosophical king: But if you had the least habit of reading books as I do, though I am a statesman and engrossed in public affairs, you would know how much Alexander is said to have admired Diogenes’s greatness of soul.94 The implication is that Julian himself acts like Alexander by expressing genuine admiration for Diogenes. He is representing the Greek elite, a man acting like a
106 Alexander as a model of behavior Hellenized Alexander, in contrast to his contemporary Cynics who do not care about any of these things. Julian’s self-fashioning as a protector and defender of the ‘real’ Hellenic culture was linked to his political aim of introducing his interpretation of traditional religion and its institutions into the Roman Empire, as he claimed, reviving traditional belief. For the ancient writers, Alexander’s meetings with Diogenes and the Indian sage supported certain arguments related to their contemporary present. In other words, stories of Alexander as a philosopher – king, or his encounters with Cynic philosophers, were not neutral references to the known past, but a deliberate rhetorical strategy. The encounter that took place in the legendary past was utilized to demonstrate the value of a philosophical lifestyle and to highlight the nature of a true sage to a contemporary audience. In addition, these conclusions drawn from the past were directly connected with the self-fashioning and self-promotion of the writers themselves. Any discussion of whether the literary tradition favors Alexander, Diogenes, or the Indian wise man misses the point: what is important is to explore why the meeting is referred to in philosophical texts. In the passages discussed above, the king yearns for wisdom and has the ability to understand and admire the profound philosophy implicit in an ascetic lifestyle, at least to a certain degree. The king’s inquiry into whether Diogenes or Calanus needed anything or his offer to give the philosophers whatever they wanted was part of the established image of Alexander as a philosophically oriented king. The image of the king as a real admirer of the philosopher is most clearly highlighted in Plutarch’s, Dio Chrysostom’s, and Julian’s texts. However, in the works of the Latin writers, the image of the philosopher – king is not so pronounced, but it is present in the background. One reason why the anecdote of Alexander’s meeting with Diogenes or the Indian sage was so popular amongst the philosophically oriented writers was almost certainly that it favors and flatters philosophers as a class. Obliquely, the writers were telling their audience to imitate the king and thus to respect philosophy and teachers of philosophy in the present. The meeting of Alexander with Diogenes or Calanus was about representing two different lifestyles. The two opposites were, on the one hand, a philosophical lifestyle concentrating on perfection and progress, and on the other hand, a king’s lifestyle in which pursuing material wealth and worldly power prevailed. Even though the king respected and revered the philosophical lifestyle, he had chosen a conflicting lifestyle. Unsurprisingly, the philosophical texts portrayed Diogenes as superior to Alexander. This acclaimed superiority stressed the importance of rejecting secondary strivings and the philosopher’s autonomy. Simultaneously, the references constructed a portrait of the ideal person, a sage that rises above military and political power and above prestige. Nothing in the outside material world can have any hold over the ideal individual. The historicity of the meeting was not the writers’ main interest. Ancient authors presented the story and the associated dialogue in a way that suited their line of argumentation, and it is impossible to decide what in the story may have derived from some earlier source, or what parts of it or dialogues were simply the invention of the author himself. The most crucial part of the story was the idealized portrait of Diogenes, while
Alexander as a model of behavior 107 Alexander was merely the ‘supporting cast’. The king’s role was to underline the greatness of Diogenes and all other philosophers, both past and present.
Despotism and a lack of restraint I myself strongly blame Cleitus for his insolence towards his king, and pity Alexander for his misfortune, since he then showed himself the slave of two vices, by neither of which is it fitting for a man of sense to be overcome, namely, anger and drunkenness.95
These words are from Arrian’s Anabasis, in which Alexander is often praised as an ideal monarch.96 However, in the passage above, Arrian refers to anger (ὀργή) and drunken behavior (παροινία) as Alexander’s harmful faults. In Arrian, these were faults to be condemned no matter what a man’s status or rank. The king’s vices were already a literary topos when Arrian wrote his Anabasis in the second century. For this study, an important task is to examine the presentation of Alexander as a furious and drunken despot, thus underlining the harmful aspects of anger and alcohol. Firstly, I deal with the discourse on anger control, and secondly, I turn to passages which condemn the excessive use of alcohol. I start my study by analyzing some short general remarks on Alexander’s inclination towards anger in the Alexander histories. Next, I discuss works and writers who focused on controlling anger in a more detailed way. I analyze the texts dealing with control over drinking in a similar order. Previous scholarship has recognized the themes of anger and drunkenness as Alexander’s main vices. References to anger and drunkenness by Roman philosophers have been considered a tradition of hostile criticism regarding Alexander’s lack of self-control.97 However, scholars have generally been more interested in reconstructing the personality of the historical Alexander, and offering opinions on the character of Alexander as an angry and drunken despot, than in approaching the passages as rhetorical discourse.98 A notable exception is Diana Spencer, who touched upon these two themes from the contemporary Roman perspective.99 However, Spencer analyzed only a couple of passages dealing with anger and alcohol consumption, but did not approach these two themes from the viewpoint of what Roman philosophers and intellectuals tried to say about them to their audiences. Her interest was more in the political aspects of the passages. My approach differs in that I examine the references to Alexander’s vices as a deliberate strategy or argument. The purpose is to show that the image of Alexander as an angry and drunken despot as opposed to a philosopher – king was not primarily about showing hostile criticism towards Alexander himself, but served the rhetorical aims of the authors in contemporary discussions on the nature of anger and wine. The Roman Latin writers of the Early Empire interpreted Alexander’s sensitivity to anger as pernicious and harmful. Livy wrote about Alexander’s savage anger ( praeferuida ira) and Tacitus referred to Alexander’s wrath (iracundia).100
108 Alexander as a model of behavior Curtius, a Roman historian of the Julio-Claudian period, did not concentrate on Alexander’s anger (ira), but stressed the negative aspects of this vice in his work.101 In his account of the siege of Tyre, Curtius negatively depicted Alexander’s fury action in the negotiations. In his description of the incident in which the Tyrian envoys prevented the Macedonians from coming to sacrifice to Hercules in their main town, Curtius remarks: “Alexander could not restrain his anger, which as a rule he was unable to control.”102 These anti-anger passages clearly demonstrate the writers’ attitude towards anger in society. The implicit message was that if a person does not control his anger, it will upset the equilibrium, lead to excesses, and have unforeseeable consequences. In Curtius, the king’s wrath (ira) provoked ‘a sad spectacle’ (triste spectaculum) when Tyre was finally taken, when 2000 men were crucified along the shore.103 Later in the narrative, Curtius writes about an incident when Alexander loses his temper with Betis, the commander of Gaza, and kills him violently. Curtius portrays the king’s anger/wrath as frenzy (rabies), an indication that foreign custom ( peregrinus ritus) had followed his success.104 Alexander’s action is interpreted as non-Macedonian. To Curtius, this could refer to something strange and non-Roman.105 Valerius Maximus, writing during the reign of Tiberius (14–37), calls anger (ira) and hatred (odium) vices: “The gods themselves wanted us to notice these images in the violent words or actions of famous people.”106 This is not surprising if we take into consideration the context: Tiberius’ rule became almost absolute as his reign progressed. Under such a regime, the emperor’s character, his selfinterest and ability to control his anger become predominant features.107 Valerius uses Alexander’s harsh treatment of his nearest friends Lysimachus, Cleitus, and Callisthenes as the first foreign cautionary example of anger and hatred. He names Alexander as a man who was defeated by anger and states that his unjust murder of three of his friends almost negated what he had achieved with his military victories. In Valerius’ text, Alexander admitted being guilty of a ‘bad temper’, which almost lost the king his position among the gods.108 Critical remarks about anger and hatred in Latin Roman literature had a background in a philosophical discussion stretching back to Classical Greece. In Greek society, however, members of the elite had recognized the disadvantages of anger, and it was seen as most injurious. Therefore, many philosophers, historians, and dramatists of the Classical period encouraged their audiences to control their anger.109 The discussion on anger eventually penetrated into philosophical theory, where an ideological division between Stoicism and Platonic/Peripatetic approaches developed. Alexander’s famous tutor, Aristotle, promoted the view that there existed proper ways to be angry (ὀργή). In his opinion, one should not avoid anger as such, but be angry with the right people for the right reasons.110 Therefore, Aristotle presents the seat of anger (θυμός) as sometimes acceptable, perhaps even leading to courage.111 In the Hellenistic period, the Stoic school put a ban on all ὀργή.112 Roman writers also understood the Stoic moral theory and the Stoic commandment about anger as an absolute ban.
Alexander as a model of behavior 109 The Roman writers Cicero and Seneca the Younger (ca. 55 BC – AD 40) can be viewed as representatives of an ‘absolutist’ doctrine on anger. Cicero is the first Roman writer known to attack anger. He advocates a total avoidance of anger and other strong emotions in the fourth book of his Tusculan disputations, which expresses an anti-Peripatetic outlook.113 According to Cicero, contrary to Aristotle’s perspective, anger (ira) is neither natural (secundum naturam) nor useful, and it does not assist people in being brave.114 Instead, it is against reason (repugnante ratione). Unsurprisingly, Cicero picks up on the actions of Alexander – Aristotle’s illustrious pupil – and uses this example show his audience the real nature of irascibility (iracundia).115 The murder of Cleitus by Alexander is presented as an example of a senseless action carried out in anger. In addition, the well-known tradition of the king’s regret after the episode – the story that Alexander almost killed himself in remorse after killing his beloved friend – is used to highlight the errors in the Aristotelian views on anger.116 With this example, Cicero argues that movements of the soul are not entirely a matter of belief and will. If Alexander’s killing of his beloved friend had been based on reason, or according to nature, then he would not have felt such strong feelings of remorse. Alexander’s extreme anger and remorse thus served to emphasize why the matter requires serious attention. Anger is harmful and therefore Cicero’s audience should avoid it. After Cicero, Seneca’s On Anger is the first known treatise on anger in Latin.117 Even though Seneca dedicated his work to his brother Annaeus Novatus, his main audience consisted of the ruling elite living under the reign of Claudius.118 The purpose of the treatise was to provide instructive material to readers, as it would point out how harmful anger was and how the proper theory and anger therapy could prevent it. Where theory is concerned, Seneca, like Cicero, partly rejected the Peripatetic views that anger is natural and sometimes useful for the sake of courage or justice.119 The work supports the Stoic doctrine that the best human life is a life ‘according to nature’, and the providential god who orders the universe offers ways to avoid anger. Seneca states that one should avoid anger no matter what one’s status in society is.120 The angry ruler figure was already, in the Classical period, a source of critique on the subject of anger.121 In Seneca’s text, Alexander is classified as one of the worst barbarian kings to show anger.122 In the second book of On Anger, Alexander is described as obnoxius irae.123 The phrase can be translated as ‘at the mercy of’, ‘under the domination of’, or ‘servile/submissive to’. In other words, in Seneca’s line of reasoning, Alexander epitomizes the ruler governed by anger: Such, in their anger, was the savagery of barbarian kings, who had not been steeped in learning and literary culture. Now I will give you – from the bosom of Aristotle – king Alexander, who killed Cleitus, his dearest friend from childhood, with his own hand while feasting, because Cleitus was insufficiently fawning, and loath to pass from freedom as a Macedonian to slavery as Persian. Again, he threw Lysimachus, an equally close friend, to the lions.124
110 Alexander as a model of behavior Later in the treatise Seneca deals with the provocation of anger and with the power of requital. He once again uses the example of Alexander: Alexander, who used to hurl a spear at his dinner companions, who threw one of the friends I mentioned just before to a lion, and made the other his own prey. Still, of these two, the one who was thrown to a lion survived. Alexander did not inherit this vice from his grandfather, nor even from his father; for if Philip had any virtue, it was forbearance even in the face of insults, a great and useful tool for safeguarding his rule.125 The king’s barbarous acts serve to underline the need for proper anger therapy, especially for those in power.126 It seems plausible that, with these presentations of Alexander, Seneca is criticizing the ‘pro-anger doctrine’ of Aristotle. The fact that the king is explicitly depicted as having been taught by Aristotle (ex Aristotelis sinu) could be regarded as implied criticism of Aristotle.127 In the same way, Seneca’s remark that Alexander did not get this weakness from his father, Philip, who had the ‘ability to endure insults’, and acted like the famous Romans Octavian and Julius Caesar (mentioned later in the passage), is an obvious inference that Alexander, as a pupil of Aristotle, learned it from him. Indirectly, Seneca is saying that if Alexander had been taught properly, he would have avoided anger. In addition, the murders of Cleitus and Lysimachus again symbolize extreme actions carried out in senseless anger. The portrayal of Alexander as a furious barbarous tyrant also appears in Seneca’s essay On Clemency, which was written some years after On Anger. In contemporary literature, Nero’s rise to power in 54 was greeted with expectations and optimism.128 Seneca penned his essay On Clemency most likely in January 56 when he received the post of suffect consulship.129 His main audience was a teenage Emperor Nero, and in the flattering preface to the work Seneca portrays the young emperor as a clement ruler.130 In this work, anger (ira), in the form of cruelty (crudelitas), is named as the most inhuman vice and the antithesis of clemency. The figure of Alexander is presented as an archetype of extreme cruelty, and his bestiality is implicitly presented as the antithesis of the idealized young Nero.131 Seneca writes: I beg of you, Alexander, whether you throw Lysimachus to a lion, or yourself tear him to pieces with your teeth? That lion’s maw is yours, and yours its savagery.132 Alexander is the wild beast of the woods because of the inhuman acts he perpetrated against his friends. In this highly rhetorical presentation, Seneca directs powerful invective at Alexander, calling him gentium malum and carnifex inter homines. The word carnifex, which could be translated ‘executioner’, ‘butcher’, or ‘torturer’, has extremely negative connotations. Similarly, malum means wickedness or evil. Nero, the young Roman prince depicted in Seneca’s work as the opposite, was raised above the famous Macedonian king. Flattering the new young
Alexander as a model of behavior 111 emperor while simultaneously encouraging him to develop the virtue of clemency was part of Seneca’s rhetorical strategy. The image of the furious Macedonian king was exploited for this purpose. It is possible that the virtue of clemency and the way the emperor should treat his close subjects was significant to Seneca himself, who intended to build a secure and ideal relationship with the young Nero. Some 50 years later, the famous Greek intellectual Plutarch wrote a treatise On the control of anger, which does not represent an ‘absolutist’ doctrine on anger. Unlike the Roman Latin writers cited above, Plutarch does not use Alexander as the greatest and most wretched exemplum of uncontrolled anger among the group of despotic rulers of old. After referring to Philip, Peisistratus, Porsenna, Magas, and Ptolemy, he remarks: But Alexander had behaved more harshly than was his custom toward Callisthenes and Cleitus. And so Porus, when he was taken captive requested Alexander to treat him ‘like a king’. When Alexander asked: “Is there nothing more?” “In the words ‘like a king’,” replied Porus, “there is everything.”133 In Plutarch’s treatise, Alexander is not portrayed as a ruler lacking self-control. Instead, Plutarch remarks that in the cases of Callisthenes and Cleitus, the king acted differently from the way he usually did. In other words, situations when the king got angry were exceptional. Plutarch was evidently aware of the traditions dealing with Alexander’s anger, but he decided not to emphasize that trait in any of his writings.134 For Plutarch, the king was, above all else, a promoter of Greek paideia and philosophy, and the rival tradition of the barbarous king, which portrayed him as a slave of harmful passions, did not fit with that ideal picture. This more positive image of Alexander can be explained by Plutarch’s patriotic approach to hellenized heroes like Alexander.135 It could be argued that Plutarch’s treatise places more emphasis on the liability of the subjects living under a monarchy than Seneca does in On Anger. Rather than condemning a ruler who lacks control over his anger, Plutarch reminds his audience that subordinates to a ruler should pay attention to what they do or say in the latter’s presence. They should imitate the Indian king Porus, who answered wisely to the king’s question and thus earned the king’s respect. While Seneca directed his criticism more openly toward those who possessed power, Plutarch seems to exhort and remind his audience of how they should take note of the character of the man of higher rank, and adapt their action to the realities of the surrounding society. This contrast could be explained by the different sociopolitical situations in which Seneca and Plutarch lived. Seneca lived in a Roman society in which Republican ideals had not been forgotten, while Plutarch wrote his treatises when the Principate had been established. However, in both cases, the stories of famous individuals showing (or rejecting) anger provided material for the discourse on it and its harmful effects on society and particularly those in power. Alcohol, especially wine, was an important part of Roman civilization. Wine firmly belonged at Roman dinner parties arranged by the upper classes, and it was the primary intoxicant in the Roman world. Drinking alcohol was a social act
112 Alexander as a model of behavior with a set of rules, enclosed within the space of the dining room or the tavern. It was expected that the proper manner of drinking was adopted, especially in the social codes of the Roman elites. Drunkenness and insobriety (ebrietas) were often seen as harmful. Drinking during work hours (negotium) was naturally the worst offence, but drinking during periods of leisure (otium), like dinner-parties, banquets, and feasts also had its limitations. Drinking too much had the potential to make the intemperate person lose control over other social inhibitions and become a threat to what was seen as proper and decent (decorum).136 In Greco-Roman literature susceptibility to anger and excessive drinking were some of the faults associated with barbarians. These literary topoi were stereotypes that constructed national and cultural identity, differentiating the ‘us’ from the ‘other’. However, behind these stereotypical views, the right ways of consuming wine were an important subject of discussion among the elites of the Early Roman Empire. Alexander’s drinking habits and the unruly banquets he arranged were legendary and much cited in ancient literature.137 The king’s notorious consumption of alcohol inspired writers to define proper ways of drinking, reminding their audiences of the injurious consequences of drunkenness and stressing the importance of restraint. Writers took it for granted that drinking wine in excessive amounts was condemnable, because it could lead to misconduct. Livy portrayed Alexander’s love of wine (vini amor) as a negative and corrupting trait.138 Similarly, Velleius Paterculus and Tacitus describe the Macedonian king’s tendency to drink alcohol and arrange banquets as a habit that rendered him inferior to his Roman counterparts.139 Sometimes, writers also noted the negative impact that heavy drinking had on the king’s health. For example, Aelian wrote that Alexander’s drinking habits were not good behavior, and that the king damaged himself by drinking so often.140 Curtius describes Alexander’s inclination to drink alcohol (cupiditatem vini) as one of his vices.141 This habit appeared especially in the later years of Alexander’s career, when he arranged drunken banquets according to Eastern ways. In Curtius’ text, Alexander’s lapse into excessive drinking is depicted as a non-Roman behavior, and as one of a range of alien Persian vices (vitia). The balanced ways to enjoy wine were upset as the king adopted barbaric ways.142 In the passage on the notorious Cleitus episode, Curtius clearly connects alcohol to the development of events. The episode begins when the “king, heated by an abundance of wine, having an immoderate opinion of himself, started to boast of his exploits.”143 This sentence encapsulates Greco-Roman opinions on alcohol. The ‘abundance of wine’, and excessive drinking, drew the king away from proper thinking. Cleitus himself, however, was also depicted as by ‘no means wholly sober’.144 Curtius depicts the continuous banquets and the king’s lack of restraint as harmful practices that undermined the king’s relationship with his Macedonian countrymen.145 In the Life of Alexander, Plutarch argued that the king was not addicted to wine, but he describes Alexander’s vice as an inclination to drink wine during supper.146 According to Plutarch, the king would sit for a long time at supper and would drink wine for conversation’s sake, and this made him boastful and unpleasantly akin to a common soldier.147 As well as transmitting the Hellenistic literary tradition,
Alexander as a model of behavior 113 the passage concerning Alexander’s drinking habits possessed a didactic function. Plutarch’s sentence is probably indicative of the elitist view of the members of the upper classes that they possessed more cultivated drinking habits than the lower classes. The implicit message was that unbalanced drinking was not an action proper to the members of the Greco-Roman upper classes. It led to various vices and regrettable episodes, Alexander’s story being a perfect example. Pliny the Elder’s Natural history and Seneca the Younger’s moral letter include passages promoting moderate drinking habits.148 These texts make reference to Roman figures notorious for their drinking habits, both Roman public officials and politicians, such as Novellius Torquatus, L. Piso, and Cossus. In this group, the most famous, and most cited, Roman drunkard is Mark Antony and the most important non-Roman example is Alexander. Pliny’s work was written to explore nature (natura), and its main concern was to put the natural world at the reader’s disposal.149 Pliny was not a philosopher and providing moral instruction was not his central task. However, his Natural history contains ethical remarks.150 In the 14th book of his work Pliny deals with viticulture, and when he treats the physiological effects of wine, he refers to the anecdote concerning Alexander and the importance of showing moderation when using alcohol.151 According to the anecdote, the philosopher Androcydes gave advice to Alexander and said that hemlock (cicuta) is a poison to a human being and wine is poison to hemlock.152 In other words, wine should be seen as more harmful than the poisonous plant. In this context, Pliny adds that if Alexander had followed this advice, he would not have killed his friends in drunkenness (in temulentia).153 He implicitly refers to the Cleitus incident. According to Pliny, wine is very useful for strengthening the body but is also ‘detrimental’ ( perniciosius) to one’s pleasures if one lacks moderation (modus). The message of the section is clear. Wine, as a product of nature, is good and an essential part of our world, but drinking too much alcohol is dangerous because it makes us commit wrongdoings. The letter that Seneca the Younger addressed to his friend Lucilius discusses the bad and deceitful influence of alcohol in an absolute way.154 As in Seneca’s other writings, the ideal wise person (sapiens) represents the model of correct conduct.155 Seneca writes about the negative consequences of drinking and criticizes the idealization of drinking and the atmosphere at banquets. The letter highlights the short-term and long-term consequences of excessive alcohol drinking and the effect they had on Alexander’s career.156 First, Seneca refers to the death of Cleitus, which he believes would not have taken place without alcohol. Seneca recalls the setting in which Alexander was ready to kill his ‘dearest’ (carissimum) and ‘most faithful’ ( fidelissimum) friend at the banquet. The choice of these specific epithets stresses the absurdity of the episode. In addition, Seneca mentions that Alexander even (allegedly) tried to commit suicide after the incident, a fact which stresses the short-term and often regrettable consequences of alcohol misuse. Only an individual misled by drunkenness, in a condition resembling madness ( furor) which lasts for only a short period, could commit such a senseless act.157
114 Alexander as a model of behavior Following his commentary on the short-term deleterious effects of drinking, Seneca turns to the public disasters (publica ebrietas) that drunkenness can lead to. In Seneca’s rhetoric, wine conquers the illustrious leaders invincible in war. Alexander’s career was a catalogue of victories. The king surpassed even the limitations of time and place. Yet, in the end, the king himself was conquered by his fondness for drink (intemperantia bibendi).158 In the final part of the epistle, Seneca asks his audience what glory is acquired by drinking wine. He describes banquets and drinking contests in which a person might win that contest but eventually become won over by the wine. The treatment of Mark Antony is similar to that of Alexander. This Roman general was a great man and a distinguished aristocrat whose glory was taken away by the disastrous combination of drunkenness and love for Cleopatra.159 In the ancient world, there was a right/wise and a wrong/unwise way of drinking wine, and this is implied in the above passage, but also in other ancient texts.160 If we accept Gourevitch’s definition, Alexander’s drinking habits can be defined as acute alcoholism, not merely the habitual alcoholism that ancient medicine was accustomed to.161 However, Latin authors like Curtius, Pliny, and Seneca were not doctors, as Galen was. Galen had an interest in this condition and characterized heavy drinking as a disease which should be fought with remedies.162 Nevertheless, the other three authors recognized the challenges and problems that the wrong kinds of drinking habits carried, and therefore wanted to warn their contemporary audience about them. Aelian made a direct reference to the king’s physical well-being and to his heavy drinking habits. In addition, passages discussing anger and alcohol consumption were also naturally built upon Stoic philosophy. This is apparent in Seneca’s and Arrian’s works, too (see the opening quote of the present subchapter).163 References to Alexander’s acute alcoholism were made both to enlighten readers about the dangers of heavy drinking and to remind the audience that increased alcohol consumption caused enormous damage to the drinker himself and to his intimates. In On Anger and On Clemency Seneca discussed the negative impacts of anger and cruelty. In those texts, the author claimed that the king killed Cleitus because of anger. However, in his letter, Seneca emphasized the role of alcohol, and therefore frames Alexander’s actions and career with excessive drinking. This shift shows Seneca’s flexible use of historical exempla. One episode could acquire a different meaning and rhetorical function. In any case, the presentation of Alexander’s career, or of a single episode, served to indicate how a member of the Roman upper classes was to act in the present and what kind of action should be avoided. Greek and Latin writers of the Roman Empire condemned anger and excessive wine drinking as harmful. This discourse against anger and alcohol found testimonial weight in the past, and the critical presentation of Alexander’s inclination to anger and use of alcohol was part of the strategy for discussing these matters. The theme of Alexander killing his friends and generals under the influence of anger and wine was frequently used in this line of reasoning. The figure of Alexander as a drunken and furious despot served to demonstrate why self-control was so important. Alexander was prone to anger and drunkenness due to lack of restraint.
Alexander as a model of behavior 115 This discourse appears not only in philosophically oriented texts but also in the works of Latin and Greek historians from the last century BC to the second century AD. However, we no longer encounter this theme in the literature of Late Antiquity.164 These notorious anecdotes about Alexander served as useful exempla to discuss the negative aspects of anger and alcohol consumption since he represented a monarch with supreme power whose wretched actions could cause severe harm to the core of society. This aspect of autocracy, especially, was a current challenge among the members of the Roman upper classes who were adapting to living under a monarchy. In Greco-Roman antiquity, history provided a catalogue of lessons for the contemporary present. However, the past itself was not neutral and self-evident but served as a rhetorical storehouse which could promote the ideological needs of the author. For Cicero and Seneca, the figure of Alexander was part of their argumentative strategy concerning their anti-Aristotelian position. In their passages, the cultural phenomenon of imitatio Alexandri was turned upside down. Instead of imitating the king, the audience was advised to act radically differently from a monarch who was unable to control his anger and drinking habits. Since even the illustrious young king lost control under the harmful effects of anger and alcohol, everyone ought to be extremely cautious where these areas are concerned.
The vanity of world conquest and the limits of gloria Philosophers of the Greco-Roman period indirectly challenged some of the mainstream values and expectations embedded in their society’s educational system.165 The standard elite expectations and its ideas about a good life were regarded as the path to the senatorial and equestrian orders, but the behavior expected and its goals differed from those expressed in philosophical treaties. The conventional elite culture respected public ostentation (gloria), status, political honor, and social authority, while philosophers often concentrated on ways to achieve a different ideal lifestyle and on the correct positioning of humanity in the larger scheme of things.166 At times, philosophers were seen as a threat by the emperors, and this is when pedagogues like Quintilian tried to show that a philosophical education was not categorically a higher form of learning.167 In the provocative discussion on gloria, philosophers exploited the critical image of the king and his conquests. Since Alexander was an icon of great military success and an object of imitation in the Greco-Roman world, it was tempting for the philosophers to question this appreciation. However, as I show below, the critical presentation of the king’s career should be regarded as a rhetorical tool rather than as a historical judgment. The following part of my work examines the critical presentation of Alexander’s career as part of the discourse on the right philosophical doctrine, the discussion about what should be respected in society and the moral boundaries of gloria. This type of discussion appears in the philosophically oriented treatises of Philo and Cicero and in several writings of Seneca the Younger, as well as in passages of Latin epic and satire composed in the Early Empire.
116 Alexander as a model of behavior Philosophically oriented texts transmit an image of a young and immature king whose lack of virtue drives him to wrong actions. In this type of portrait, the king’s youth symbolizes immature thinking. The critique of the king’s imperialism serves to show the actual position of humankind in the universe, and thus the importance of appropriate philosophical instruction. In Cicero’s On duties, the critical interpretation of Alexander’s career stresses the limits of military glory, the potentially negative effects of success, and the importance of philosophy and its virtues. The work itself, written in 44, was addressed to Cicero’s young son, Marcus, who was making fundamental decisions about his life. Marcus was interested in military service after his experience at the battle of Pharsalus.168 Cicero did not want his son to end his studies at so early an age. However, it is possible that Cicero’s audience was the youth of Rome in general, whom he hoped to give models worthy of imitation in choosing the best public career. Through his work, a father showed the limitations of military achievements to both his son and a wider audience. What is more, this text also served to strengthen Cicero’s own position in society and to show his expertise.169 The contemporary Roman world witnessed civil war after civil war between generals like Pompey and Caesar. In his work, Cicero states that many people think military action is more important than peace. In his opinion, however, political actions are greater than the deeds of war, which are often motivated by ambition.170 Implicitly, Cicero defends his own stance and extols his previous career as a statesman in Rome.171 Cicero therefore treats the pursuit of glory and military glory critically, and draws a comparison between Alexander and Philip.172 Cicero warns that in moments of excess, when one notices that one’s life is going as desired, one ought to avoid lofty self-esteem (superbia), haughtiness ( fastidium), and arrogance (arrogantia).173 Self-control in times of success and when facing adversity is essential for avoiding these three vices. Cicero mentions Socrates and Gaius Laelius as men who succeed in avoiding these vices on every occasion. Cicero then compares Alexander and Philip. Even though Alexander surpassed his father as a subject of literary composition (res gestae) and as an object of praise (gloria), he was inferior to his father in facilitas and humanitas.174 The former means indulgence and readiness, and the latter refers to humane character and kindness, a quality which distinguishes civilized men from savages. Philip was always great, while Alexander was often very bad (turpissimus). Philip was greater because he demonstrated self-control and avoided vices, even if he did conquer fewer cities than his son.175 Young Marcus and other Roman aristocratic ‘wannabe Alexanders’ pondering a military career were urged to remember Alexander’s career and consider it a warning about the potentially destructive consequences of such military aspirations. The importance of man’s moral development was considered greater than the recognition he received from the community. Another passage in which Alexander’s military success and desire for conquest is compared to philosophical thinking comes from Philo’s On the cherubim.176 In this work, the Alexandrian Jew combines Judaism, Platonic ontology, and Stoic thought. When Philo
Alexander as a model of behavior 117 describes the doings and the relation of the mind and senses, he uses the figure of Alexander as a warning example. According to Philo’s anecdote, following his conquest of Europe and Asia, Alexander stood in a commanding spot and said: “This way and that, all are mine.”177 These words symbolize the lightness (μειρακιώδους), immaturity (νηπίας), and unskillful action of the soul (ἰδιωτικῆς τῷ ὄντι ψυχῆς).178 They were indicative not of the soul of a king but that of a common man. In Philo’s rhetoric, Alexander’s desire for conquest serves to illustrate how the mind often becomes the victim of wrong reasoning and meditation. Wrong passions may lead an individual down the wrong path. Philo’s passage was about Platonic theory and its presentation served to indicate the elementary state of the soul. The passage’s purpose was to encourage the audience to shed its wrongful passions and to understand how the soul and the mind could be improved. Of all the Classical writings, the works of Seneca the Younger are the most critical of Alexander’s imperialism.179 One function of Seneca’s negative interpretation of Alexander’s career was to promote the Stoic worldview. The central Stoic concept of Reason/Nature was the basic principle of ethics in Seneca’s writings. For the Stoics, the world was a perfect entity ruled by godly Reason/ Nature, and did not result from the haphazard motion of atoms promoted in Epicurean thinking or an imperfect copy of the Platonic world of ideas. Of primary importance to an individual was the achievement of harmony with this Reason/ Nature, and this could be done by pursuing human fulfillment in rational happiness. This was to be called ‘living in accordance with nature’ (κατὰ φύσιν, secundum naturam). It could happen only when a person freed himself from wrongful passions through reason. To achieve this state of being, an individual had to turn to the lessons of Stoic passion therapy. According to the Stoic doctrine, it was imperative for the individual to follow the path of Stoic conduct; otherwise, he might be misled by harmful passions.180 In Seneca’s text, the figure of Alexander is frequently used to symbolize an individual who did not live in accordance with Nature. Seneca’s work therefore emphasizes the importance of the Stoic worldview and passion therapy. In Seneca’s moral letters especially, we find a critical image of Alexander as a monarch whose major problem was his inability to control his emotions (adfectus).181 Paradoxically, Alexander conquered the world, placing kings under his command, but acted ‘madly’ and killed his friends under the influence of anger and grief (tristitia).182 The tragic ‘fault’ was that the king who wanted to rule the world did not try to rule his own emotions, which ought to have been his primary task. Similarly, just as Cicero praised Philip’s self-control, Seneca states: “Selfcommand is the greatest command of all”, and reminds his audience that this virtue is far above ambition (ambitio) and fame ( fama).183 According to Seneca’s argumentation, if the king had known and practiced Stoic principles, he would have not faced various adversities and caused himself and his subjects so much suffering. This image of Alexander is also repeated in another moral epistle that deals with the proper place of humans in the universe
118 Alexander as a model of behavior and with the importance of moderation in human life.184 In the letter, Seneca adds that Nature (natura) gives everything a person really needs and that an individual should consequently fit into this grand order.185 The contrasting image of Alexander and his insatiable desire for conquering new lands demonstrates the damage an individual may cause if he has not understood this universal truth.186 The reason is that Alexander seeks something that he cannot really make his own. In his works, Seneca constructs a rhetorical juxtaposition, imagined or real, between the rare individuals who understand and apply the Stoic life and the individuals who do not pay attention to Stoic doctrines. Nature (natura) and the individual living according to nature are in balance with each other. It does not long for anything more after obtaining everything. In Seneca’s view, the individual who has grasped basic Stoic wisdom understands his rightful place in the universe and achieves the desired status of peace of mind/virtue. This individual is called a wise man (unus sapiens), which is contrasted with famous individuals like Alexander.187 Seneca’s On benefits presents Alexander’s lust for world conquest as the opposite of the action of a wise man.188 Dissatisfied with what he already has, the king has a futile need for more territory. In reality, the king did not even own the kingdoms he was holding, but driven by reckless greed (immensum avidate) he pushed his armies beyond the boundaries of nature, the unexplored and boundless sea. In contrast, Seneca describes a man who does not lean upon uncertainties and is free from the great anxieties that can lead a man’s mind astray. Seneca employed his rhetoric not only to teach Stoic doctrines but also to defend the position of philosophy and the value it could have for Roman society in terms of lifestyle. In his Natural questions, Seneca offers a Stoic outlook on the physical world and a critical treatment of worldly fame and respect. In the preface to his work, Seneca qualifies Philip and Alexander’s realms as kingdoms ruled by brigandage and banditry (latronicia), infamous for the destruction they brought to the human race.189 Therefore, in Seneca’s opinion it is fundamentally futile to ponder such matters, which are inferior to the universal lessons drawn from nature. According to Seneca various writers have “exhausted themselves narrating the actions of foreign kings”. Similarly, in one of his moral letters, Seneca provides a critical survey of the undertakings of Alexander and his Roman counterparts Marius, Pompey, and Julius Caesar.190 Seneca encourages his audience not to envy these individuals, commonly respected in society. These men, who are called great and happy, should not put those who have understood the value of philosophy to shame for their modest lifestyle.191 The fame and recognition directed towards Alexander, Marius, Pompey, and Julius Caesar is to be regarded as groundless. As in his previous writings, Seneca states that leaders like Alexander conquered their enemies in war, but had themselves in turn been conquered by their own passions. For example, he explains that the Macedonian king’s campaigns were the work of a madman who was driven by rage/madness ( furor). The king brought devastation to Greece, the land in which he had been educated, bidding Spartans to be slaves and Athenians to hold their tongues.192 He carried his weapons all over the world and his savage cruelty (crudelitas immanium) was like that of a wild beast which tears to pieces more than its hunger demands.193
Alexander as a model of behavior 119 After referring to the careers of the famous warlords, Seneca advises his audience to reject the wrong opinions popular in society.194 Ambition, lust for luxury, and a lack of restraint are mentioned as vices to avoid.195 From the standpoint of Stoic doctrine, Alexander and his Roman counterparts Pompey and Julius Caesar enjoyed incorrect and groundless admiration in society. Consequently, Seneca tried to give the impression that he was fighting against a popular but mistaken way of thinking which drove youngsters to imitate the harmful deeds of violent madmen. His attack should not be regarded primarily as a historical judgment, but as a rhetorical strategy used to defend the status of philosophers in the Roman world and to promote Stoic doctrine. The object was to raise the evaluation of the groups of philosophers that Seneca himself represented. The critical interpretation of Alexander’s career as a story of mad ambition and the limits of his conquests occurs not only in the philosophical texts written by Cicero, Philo, and Seneca. It also appears in Lucan’s and Silius Italicus’ Latin epics, Juvenal’s Satires, and Lucian’s Dialogues of the dead.196 In these works, Alexander’s career is treated through a presentation of him as a corpse in the tomb or a ghost in the Underworld. The king is portrayed as a tragic world conqueror who did not control himself, and who travelled the globe motivated by an obsession for conquest. Similarities with Seneca’s critical presentation of Alexander as ‘mad’ and ‘senseless’ can also be found in Lucan’s epic On the civil war. Lucan was Seneca’s nephew and composed his work during the reign of Nero. The theme of the epic is the civil war between Caesar and Pompey. The treatment of Alexander’s reign occurs during Lucan’s account of Caesar’s stay in Alexandria, during which he visits the tomb of Alexander.197 In the passage, Caesar shows little interest in the temples or the city walls, but eagerly travels to see Alexander’s tomb. Lucan does not mention Alexander by name but gives him different appellations, like ‘the mad son of Macedonian Philip’ ( proles vesana) and ‘fortunate freebooter’ ( felix praedo).198 In this presentation, Stoic thoughts and ideology encounter critical conceptions of autocracy. Alexander “plunged his sword into the heart of every nation” and “polluted the distant rivers of the Euphrates and the Ganges with Persian and Indian blood”.199 His terrible conquest included wrongdoing towards nations and, above all else, against nature, the earth, and rivers. Moreover, Lucan describes Alexander as a ‘pestilence on the earth’ (terrarum fatale malum), ‘a thunderbolt that struck all peoples alike’ ( fulmen, quod omnes percuteret pariter populos), and ‘a comet of disaster for mankind’ (sidus iniquum gentibus).200 Lucan’s construction resembles the appraisal and presentation of Seneca. The end result of the conquests is described as follows: But Death stood in his way, and Nature alone was able to bring his mad reign to this end: the power, by which he had seized the whole world, he carried away with him in his jealousy, and left no successor to inherit all his greatness, but exposed the nations to be torn asunder.201 It is the limits of world conquest and the king’s ‘undisputed’ fame that are stressed in the critical passages above. Nature/God in Stoic thinking puts an end
120 Alexander as a model of behavior to Alexander’s plans. The king lived opposed to the harmony of Nature and the consequence and punishment was that he died in Babylon without a successor.202 Silius Italicus treated the Second Punic War in the Punica, the longest known poem composed in Latin, and probably published before the death of Emperor Domitian in 96.203 The figure of Alexander is introduced in a scene in which Scipio, with the help of a priestess, raises the ghosts of famous men, both from the immediate and the remote past.204 As in Lucan, Alexander’s name is not mentioned, but the reader has no doubt about who is referred to. The priestess points to Alexander’s ghost and introduces him to Scipio as a young man (iuvenis). The short survey of Alexander’s accomplishments resembles the portraits we know from Seneca and Lucan: That is he who ranged in arms over every land, who found a way through Bactra and the Dahae, and drank of the Ganges – The Macedonian who threw a bridge over the Niphates and whose city, named after himself, stands on the sacred Nile.205 In the presentation, Alexander’s undisputed glory eclipses that of all other commanders. However, the priestess also speaks of the vanity of conquest and the limits of fame. In death, all men are equal, no matter how ambitious the projects they carried out during their lives. Scipio (Africanus), described as ‘a son of Aeneas’, starts to speak to Alexander’s ghost and shows him admiration. Scipio informs him that he has a desire to undertake similar projects and asks Alexander for advice. The Macedonian encourages Scipio to display audacity and bravery because ‘dark death’ (mors atra) surrounds every act.206 After this, the ghost of Alexander departs. The vanity of world conquest and the limits of military success are read more straightforwardly in Juvenal’s work, where he addresses the subject of the vanity of human wishes. Alexander is introduced in similar terms as Hannibal.207 He is called a man from the city of Pella, for whom one city is not enough.208 His ambition and greed ultimately lead to the death that awaits every human. Juvenal writes: Yet when once he shall have entered the city [of Babylon] fortified by the potter’s art, a sarcophagus will suffice him.209 In the end, sudden death is the result of the king’s restless expeditions. The man who remained dissatisfied with being the king of Macedonia was forced to be content (contentus) with his tiny resting place, which was still located in Alexandria when Juvenal wrote this passage. In the present passage, Alexander is among the other generals (Hannibal) and kings (Xerxes) used to highlight the fragility of human projects. He is used to point out that every individual eventually ends up in the same situation as all others. Alexander now rests in a sacred shrine, having left no successors, although once the whole world was under his sole control. Lucian’s Dialogues of the dead similarly emphasizes the limits of renown and the vanity of world conquest when the person has passed away. In one of the 30
Alexander as a model of behavior 121 short dialogues, Alexander encounters his father Philip in the Underworld. Philip tells his son that he has heard about his misdeeds, like his killing of Cleitus, aping of the manners of conquered Medes, and false desire to be acknowledged as a son of Amon.210 When Alexander tries to defend his actions by saying that he is ranked with Heracles and Dionysius, Philip refers to the famous Greek aphorism “Know thyself”, and reproaches his son: “Aren’t you ashamed, Alexander? Won’t you learn to forget your pride, and know yourself, and realise that you’re now dead?”211 The condition of Alexander in the sarcophagus at Alexandria (Lucan), Babylon (Juvenal), or as a ghost in the Underworld (Silius, Lucian) stresses the final outcome of the vanities. The king and his world conquest had moral and physical boundaries. From the philosophical angle, the king’s career – filled with wrong passions – was an ultimately wasted project. The passages from Lucan, Silius, Juvenal, and Lucian refer to the undisputed status of Alexander in the Greco-Roman world. The reputation and admiration that Alexander received in that world is conceded, but presented as unwarranted. The Latin passages analyzed in this chapter are strikingly different from the passages in ancient historians like Arrian, who presents the king’s expedition to unknown regions as self-evidently heroic. In Arrian’s text, Alexander’s conquests and the desire to proceed ever further on the campaign is not criticized but presented as a result of a positive yearning (πόθος).212 For example, Arrian wrote that exploring unknown seas and sending new fleets over the ocean was proof of a king’s heroic desire/yearning (πόθος) to surpass himself and to carry out his projects.213 For Curtius, the concept is probably translated as ingens cupido.214 The explanation that idealized Alexander’s campaign and his motives might have already existed in the Hellenistic tradition, or might have derived from a common formulation in Greek literature.215 However, in Arrian’s and Curtius’ texts, this desire is neither strongly criticized nor presented as a vanity.216 Contrary to the historians of Alexander, the Latin texts referred to above condemn the king’s interest in advancing into the unknown. In this context, a composition by the Elder Seneca (born ca. 50 BC), the Suasoriae, in which “Alexander debates with himself whether to sail the Ocean”, seems to be situated between the critique of Alexander’s lust for advancing to ends of the earth and the idealizing portraits of imperialism in Arrian and Curtius. In Seneca’s presentation the earth has its limits and whatever has reached its utmost extent leaves no place to go (quidquid ad summum pervenit, incremento non relinquit locum).217 Alexander, standing at the edge of the inhabited world, finds himself in a paradoxical situation – there is no longer anything to conquer or any place remaining to advance into. The texts analyzed in this subchapter are not about the king’s heroic nature but rather about his megalomania, driven by the injurious passions which caused havoc and destruction to nature and humans. Diana Spencer has suggested that many of these Roman Latin passages discuss the boundaries and limits of the Roman Empire in the first century.218 By writing critically of Alexander’s world conquest and by rejecting its greatness, the writers could express their views of enlarging the Empire in their present. However, as this present subchapter has
122 Alexander as a model of behavior shown, the critique was above else a means of highlighting the proper philosophical doctrines and encouraging a philosophical lifestyle in place of mainstream thinking. It is risky to consider the critique of Alexander’s conquest as the views or opinions of the authors themselves. For example, sometimes scholars have referred to “Seneca’s hostility towards Alexander” or “Seneca’s view of Alexander”.219 In the same way, one could argue that the presentation of Alexander in Philo’s On the cherubim shows the view of the author himself. Perhaps more appropriately, we should see the provocative and harsh presentations of Alexander as a rhetorical strategy. That this was the case becomes more probable when we remember that Seneca praised Alexander in some passages and used him as example worthy of imitation.220 Similarly, Philo’s comparison of Alexander to God in On the creation should not be considered as proof of his overly positive view of the king.221 The passages concerning Alexander discussed above are not primarily intended to represent a given writer’s view of or attitude about Alexander, but to function as an argumentative strategy and serve his specific rhetorical purposes. The critical portrait of Alexander’s career and its setbacks were part of the rhetorical strategy of philosophically oriented writers. In their argumentation, Alexander was an immature king not content with his natural possessions, who desired more than a human could have. This portrayal of the king was intended to emphasize the importance of moderation and the rejection of wrongful passions. As in the cases of anger and consumption of wine, the king is used not as an example to follow but precisely as a cautionary exemplum of wrong and destructive ambitions. The condemnation of Alexander’s state of mind is reminiscent of the theme of hubris (ὕβρις/superbia), which represents thinking and acting beyond norms, and which we frequently encounter in Classical literature. In the passages above, hubris relates to the king’s wasted accomplishments, which because they are fruitless for Alexander in terms of moral or spiritual improvement, in turn illuminate the proper place of individuals in the cosmos. The writers examined in this section wished to challenge and reconsider the general valuation of imperialism in relation to philosophy and the supreme virtues it raised. It was well known amongst intellectuals and philosophers of the Roman world that mainstream culture portrayed and praised Alexander as a hero. Therefore, the critical presentation of Alexander itself was an attack on the enormous respect Alexander enjoyed, and thus the set of values his conquests symbolized. The strong and perhaps harsh depiction of Alexander, who was admired by many, was part of the rhetoric and self-fashioning of the writer in his discussion about the limits of fame and prestige. *** In previous research, the role of the past as a storehouse for moral instruction and lessons in Classical philosophical writing has been an accepted fact. Surprisingly, however, the nuances of this practice have not received special interest among scholars, who have mainly treated it as a rhetorical technique. Michael Trapp briefly characterizes the practice of using historical exempla in the philosophical and pedagogical context:
Alexander as a model of behavior 123 Precepts define and give commands for right action in specified circumstances, but this remains a fairly abstract vehicle of instruction. A lesson is delivered still more vividly, immediately and memorably when the learner can be presented with an actual instance of the right action in question, from history or myth – in other words with an ‘example’ (παράδειγμα, exemplum).222 However, this chapter has shown that these lessons were not self-evident claims but directly connected with the writers’ own sociocultural values and aims. The literary imagery of Alexander was used to defend or underline proper philosophical and pedagogical thinking and actions that the writer himself considered right. In addition, the practice of using historical exempla was directly related to the writer’s intention to market himself as an expert in philosophical wisdom. In the passages above, the personality of Alexander was intentionally adjusted to suit philosophical conceptions. Alexander was presented in two different ways: both as a ‘philosophical’ king and as its opposite, an angry, drunken, and bloodthirsty despot. The image of the civilized philosopher – king was especially exploited by Roman Greek writers promoting Greek paideia. Similarly, certain episodes like Alexander’s meeting with Diogenes and the Indian philosophers were used to defend the superiority of a philosophical lifestyle. In these passages, the supposed philosophical interest of the king served to stress directly the important role of philosophers in both past and present societies. A characteristic feature of the many philosophical texts is the way they deliberately challenge the heroic status of the king and his supposedly brilliant accomplishments. However, this should not be considered an assault on the reputation of the king himself, let alone a plan to degrade him, but rather as a rhetorical strategy. If the famous and widely imitated king showed certain vices and shortcomings, that gave a sound reason for an ordinary member of the Roman upper classes to pay attention to the given warning. By critically presenting Alexander’s career, the writers could promote philosophical principles and criticize the general values of their society. The critical passages concerning Alexander’s susceptibility to anger, his excessive consumption of wine, or his urge for conquest, and his inverse image as a civilized philosopher – king raised on Greek literature, existed alongside each other as rhetorical options. This was material that writers could freely adapt to support their arguments. We should not see the critical presentations primarily as ‘negative’ or ‘hostile’ opinions/views of Alexander, since the same writer could use the ‘positive’ tradition of Alexander in a different context. It seems that there was no ‘general’ view of Alexander that was shared by all authors, or at least, not one that can be detected in the studied sources. Therefore, we should regard the passages as discussions rather than settled historical judgments.223 These writers were not just providing philosophical and pedagogical instruction, but also marketing themselves as the experts in proper philosophical doctrine and pedagogy. In a society where military and political careers were highly esteemed, creating and using critical images of Alexander and comparing him to famous philosophers was a deliberate form of self-presentation. If the Macedonian king
124 Alexander as a model of behavior was widely respected, so should an independent philosophical soul. Similarly, the image of Alexander respecting philosophers offered a favorable reference-point for philosophers and pedagogues. The Greek Roman writers tended to emphasize the ‘Greek elements’ in the story of Alexander, such as his interest in Homer, Greek philosophy, and literature. Furthermore, the presentation of the king in their texts is more idealized (Lucian’s Dialogues of the dead being an exception) than that found in the Latin texts, which tend to portray him as a barbarous despot. This difference, which is also evident in the material analyzed in Chapter 2, can best be explained by the different strategies of self-promotion relevant to the writers’ cultural and ethnic backgrounds.
Notes 1 Dillon 1988, 1–2; for the eclecticism of Cicero, see Reale 1985, 357–365; for Philo as an eclectic thinker, see Sterling 2014, 137–147. 2 Morford 2002, 164. 3 Stoneman 2003, 328. Diana Spencer has also analyzed some passages of Alexander written by Seneca and Cicero, but her arguments do not primarily deal with the reasons why Alexander is used in pedagogical and philosophical discourse. Her approach concentrates on the role of Alexander in Roman cultural memory. Spencer 2002; Spencer 2006. 4 Stoneman 2003, 335. 5 Stoneman 2003 concentrates on Cynic ideas and on the meeting between Alexander and Diogenes. His work should therefore be seen as an opening address to a different approach to the sources, in which he only analyzed a small selection of the available sources. 6 Famously, it was Badian 1958 who attacked the view of Alexander as a universalist philosopher. For recent discussions on the king as a philosopher, see Desmond 2011, 51–53. 7 Cf. Asirvatham 2013, 312. 8 Alexander’s contemporary philosopher and helmsman Onesicritus wrote on the education of Alexander. Diogenes Laertius recounts that Onesicritus followed the model of Xenophon’s Cyropaideia. Diog. Laer. 6.84. His work might have been one of the first accounts dealing with the education of the young Alexander, even though Onesicritus is never cited for any incident in the king’s youth and education. Pearson 1956, 87–88. 9 Preston 2001, 89; White 2015, 53–59. 10 Preston 2001, 90. For the competition that could take place between the ‘true’ pepaideumenos and the superficially educated babblers, see Lauwers 2015, 31, 237–238. 11 Dio Chrys. Or. 2.1–79. As in the fourth discourse, Dio is most likely inventing the lines. The scene is set to occur when the young prince has taken part in the campaigns of his father. 12 Dio Chrys. Or. 2.79. 13 Trans. J. W. Cohoon. Dio Chrys. Or. 2.6: τὴν δέ γε Ὁμήρου ποίησιν μόνην ὁρῶ τῷ ὄντι γενναίαν καὶ μεγαλοπρεπῆ καὶ βασιλικήν. 14 Trans. J. W. Cohoon. Dio Chrys. Or. 2.7: εὖ ἴσθι, ἔφη, ὦ πάτερ, ἐγὼ οὐ μόνον ποιητὴν ἕτερον, ἀλλ’ οὐδὲ μέτρον ἄλλο ἢ τὸ Ὁμήρου ἡρῷον ἀκούων ἀνέχομαι. In Dio’s fourth discourse Alexander is also presented as a lover of Homer who knows the Iliad and parts of the Odyssey by heart. 15 For the impact of Homer on Greek literature, see Hunter 2004, 235–254. 16 Zeitlin 2001, 235–236. For the circulation of Homer in the Roman world, see Farrell 2004, 254–272.
Alexander as a model of behavior 125 17 Jones 1978; Moles 1983, 1990; and Swain 1996, 193–194 supported the view that Trajan belonged to Chrysostom’s audience. However, Whitmarsh 2001 has noted that there is no external evidence that Dio performed his second and fourth discourses before Trajan. He points out that the audience must have comprised more than the emperor himself. Whitmarsh 2001, 325–327. 18 Plut. Alex. 5.4–5. Plutarch informs that Alexander risked his life to save his tutor Lysimachus. Ibid. 24.6. 19 Plut. Alex. 7.1–5. 20 Plut. Alex. 8.2. 21 Ibid. 26.1. 22 Plut. Alex. 8.3–4. 23 It has been stated that Plutarch’s two parts to the essay should be regarded as works for school training addressed to a Greek audience and that they do not express Plutarch’s real and serious opinions about Alexander. Therefore, these do not contain any serious attempts or aims. Hamilton 1969, xxx – xxxiii. It is true that in his biography Plutarch is more moderate in his ‘praise’ of Alexander than in the essay, where admiration is more dominant, but there are clear similarities between the anecdotal material used and interpreted in the biography and in the essay. The basic concept of Alexander as the the product of Hellenistic/even Classical Greek culture is the same. Aalders 1982, 23–24 has similarly noted that Plutarch’s ‘positive appreciation’ of Alexander can be detected in incidental comments in Plutarch’s other works. 24 Plut. Mor. De Alex. Fort. 327f – 328a. 25 Ibid. 334d. 26 König 2009, 400. 27 Hose 2016, 336. 28 Duff 2008, 1. 29 Quintilian was an advocate, orator, and teacher of rhetoric born in Spain. He had a school and received a salary in Rome, where he taught for 12 years. The orator’s education was published before Domitian’s death in 96. 30 For the course of education from elementary school to the school of the grammarian and finally to advanced philosophical training, see König 2009, 399. 31 Quint. Inst. 1.2.8–9. 32 Quint. Inst. 1.23–24. 33 Ibid. 1.24. 34 König 2009, 393–394. 35 For a discussion on the letter, see Katz 2007. For paideia and power in Late Antiquity, see Brown 1992, 35–70. 36 Jer. Epist. 107.4. 37 Ibid. 38 Nathan 2000, 140–141. 39 In chapter 5, I shall examine more closely the ways in which Christian writers used the figure of Alexander in their rhetorical argumentation. 40 The speech is the 54th Oration in the Himerian corpus. 41 Him. Or. 54.4. 42 Ibid. 43 Him. Or. 54.6. 44 Penella 2007, 110. 45 Alex. Rom. 1.13, 16. 46 Ibid. 1.22. 47 Cf. Nawotka 2017, 71–72. 48 Ca. 412/403–324/321 BC. 49 The Classical tradition includes various encounters between philosophers and kings, like that of Solon and Croesus (Hdt. 1.29). See the footnote in Stoneman 2003, 330; Buora 1973/1974.
126 Alexander as a model of behavior 50 The figure of Diogenes was surrounded by colorful anecdotes which can be read in the Lives of the Philosophers by Diogenes Laertius. It is difficult to reconstruct the life of the historical Diogenes from such traditions, but we can examine the reception and use of Diogenes’ legacy in Roman literature. 51 Bosman 2007, 56–57, 62–63. For a survey of the tradition and reception in art and literature from ancient times to modern times, see Buora 1973/1974; Stoneman 2003, 330–333. 52 Bosman 2007, 60. Stoneman 2003, 331 expresses a similar view. 53 For example, Wardle 2005, 145 calls the anecdote of Alexander and Diogenes in Valerius Maximus a ‘negative’ exemplum (Val. Max. 4.3.ext.4). However, it is needless and sometimes challenging to categorize separate exempla as either ‘positive’ or ‘negative’. 54 Val. Max. 4.3.ext.4; Cic. Tusc. 5.32.91–92; Juv. 14.310–315; Plut. Alex. 14.3; Diog. Laert. 6.32. Usually scholars consider the meeting between Alexander and Diogenes as unhistorical, since it is difficult to fit the episode in before the Asian campaign. However, according to Bosman, the historicity of the incident cannot be totally rejected. Bosman 2007, 52. See also Fisch 1932, 130–131. For arguments on the historicity of the encounter, see Hammond 1993, 28. 55 Trapp 2007, 32. 56 Peripatetics and some Imperial-era Platonists took their pick according to their individual tastes. In the Nicomachean Ethics, Aristotle had argued that even if rational virtue is central, bodily and external goods were also required for the most perfect felicity. Trapp 2007, 33–34. 57 Val. Max. 4.3.ext.4. 58 Ibid. 4.3.3. 59 Cic. Tusc. 5.32.91–92. In the case of Xenocrates, Cicero speaks of the king’s generosity (rex liberalitatis). 60 Juv. 14.310–315. 61 The Oxford Latin Dictionary translates beneficium as ‘an act tending to the benefit of another, service or kindness’. 62 In the first part of the work, Seneca uses Alexander as a cautionary example of giftgiving and receiving. First, he takes the anecdote in which the Corinthians sent an embassy and granted Alexander citizenship. According to the story, Alexander smiled and one of the ambassadors said as a reply that no one before, except for Hercules, had received the privilege. Sen. Ben. 1.13.1–3. In another exemplum Alexander offered a man a whole city, an act criticized by Seneca: see Sen. Ben. 2.16.1–2. 63 Trans. John W. Basore. Sen. Ben. 5.4.4: multo potentior, multo locupletior fuit omnia tunc possidente Alexandro; plus enim erat, quod hic nollet accipere, quam quod ille posset dare. 64 After the comparison between Alexander and Diogenes (Sen. Ben. 7.2.3), Seneca writes about a wise man who owns all things and has no difficulty in retaining them. 65 Trapper 2007, 44. According to Seneca there existed no real sages. Ibid. 50. 66 See the previous subchapter, n. 22. 67 Trans. Bernadotte Perrin. Plut. Alex. 14.3: εἰ μὴ Ἀλέξανδρος ἤμην, Διογένης ἂν ἤμην. Cf. Plut. Mor. De exil. 605d; Plut. Mor. Ad princ. inerud. 782a. Alexander’s reply is also included in Diog. Laert. 6.32. 68 Plut. Alex. 14.3. 69 Plut. Mor. De Alex. Fort. 331e – 332c. 70 Plut. Mor. De exil. 605d – e. cf. Plut. Mor. Ad princ. inerud. 782a – b. 71 Bosman 2007, 54. 72 Max. Tyr. 29.2. cf. Max. Tyr. 32.9. For other similar appearances of the encounter, see Diog. Ep. 33. Cf. Diog. Ep. 24. 73 Simplic. Comm. in Epictet. enchir. 15. 74 Diog. Laert. 6.2.32.
Alexander as a model of behavior 127 75 Luc. Dial. mort. 13. 76 Plut. Alex. 65.5.1–4; Arr. an. 7.2.3–4.6; Strab. 15.1.68; Diod. 17.107.2–6. According to the tradition Alexander summoned the Brahmans to Taxila. For tracing the historicity of Alexander and the Brahmans, see Stoneman 1994; Stoneman 1995. 77 Arr. an. 7.2.1–4. 78 Plut. Mor. De Alex. Fort. 332b – c. 79 At Pasargadae Calanus became ill and therefore decided to build his own funeral pyre, and was consumed by the flames. Arrian stated that there were many records and stories about Calanus which “are not altogether valueless”. Arr. an. 7.3.6. 80 Phil. Quod Omn. 93.1–97.5. 81 Philo mentions several exempla of both groups and individuals. Among groups, he refers to the seven wise men of Greece, the Magi from Persia, the Gymnosophists from India, and the Judaic Essenes. As individuals Philo mentions Heracles, Zeno, and Anaxarchus. 82 Arr. an. 7.3.1–6; Diod. 17.107.1–6 demonstrate that Calanus accompanied Alexander to Persia when they relate the story of Calanus’ death on his own funeral pyre. 83 Trans. F. H. Colson. Phil. Quod Omn. 95.1–2: ἄξιόν με τοῖς Ἕλλησιν ἐπιδείξεις, Ἀλέξανδρε, εἴ γε ἀναγκασθήσομαι ποιεῖν ἃ μὴ βούλομαι; 84 Trans. F. H. Colson. Phil. Quod. Omn. 98.1: τῆς δὲ σπουδαίων ἐλευθερίας μάρτυρές εἰσι ποιηταὶ καὶ συγγραφεῖς, ὧν ταῖς γνώμαις Ἕλληνες ὁμοῦ καὶ βάρβαροι σχεδὸν ἐξ αὐτῶν σπαργάνων ἐντρεφόμενοι βελτιοῦνται τὰ ἤθη. 85 Alexandre 2009, 131–132. 86 Dio Chrys. Or. 4.1–139. The fourth discourse shares many similarities with the second discourse and the content of the speech is probably Dio’s invention, reflecting his own presentation in the eyes of the emperor or the Greco-Roman elites. 87 For a possible reference to Trajan, see Dio Chrys. Or. 1.56, 84. For Dio’s critique of Domitian’s reign, see Dio Chrys. Or. 1.50. For the possibility of Trajan as the primary target of the orations, see n. 99. 88 Dio Chrys. Or. 4.4–11. 89 M. Aur. Med. 8.3. 90 Marcus Aurelius established four chairs of philosophy at Athens. However, it seems that Marcus’ philosophical inclinations did not influence his practical politics in a systematic way. Blois 2012, 177–183. 91 Sellars 2012, 460–463 stresses that the Meditations should be considered primarily as an author’s quest for becoming a good man, and as a philosophical exercise. 92 For the Meditations as a work addressed for a personal use, see Ceporina 2012, 46–47. 93 For Julian’s relationship with Diogenes, his contemporary Cynics, and the Oration itself, see Rowland-Smith 1995, 49–90. 94 Trans. Winmer Cave Wright. Jul. Or. 6.20.17–20: εἰ σμικρὰ τὰς βίβλους ἀνελίττων ἐμελέτας, ὥσπερ ἡμεῖς οἱ πολιτικοὶ καὶ πολυπράγμονες, ἔγνως ἂν ὅπως Ἀλέξανδρος ἀγασθῆναι λέγεται τὴν Διογένους μεγαλοψυχίαν. 95 Trans. P. A. Brunt. Arr. an. 4.9.1: καὶ ἐγὼ Κλεῖτον μὲν τῆς ὕβρεως τῆς ἐς τὸν βασιλέα τὸν αὑτοῦ μεγαλωστὶ μέμφομαι· Ἀλέξανδρον δὲ τῆς συμφορᾶς οἰκτείρω, ὅτι δυοῖν κακοῖν ἐν τῷ τότε ἡττημένον ἐπέδειξεν αὑτόν, ὑφ’ ὅτων δὴ καὶ τοῦ ἑτέρου οὐκ ἐπέοικεν ἄνδρα σωφρονοῦντα ἐξηττᾶσθαι, ὀργῆς τε καὶ παροινίας. 96 Cf. Arr. an. 7. 30.1–3. 97 Cf. Bosworth 1980, 13–14. 98 Bosworth 1988 portrayed the king as a harsh autocrat who frequently had tantrums. O’Brien 1992 presented Alexander’s growing alcoholism as the reason for his failures and early death. Recently, in Gabriel 2015, the king’s anger and drinking habits are offered as proofs that he suffered from psychiatric symptoms due to his long exposure to war. 99 Spencer 2002, 86–94.
128 Alexander as a model of behavior 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109
110 111 112
113
114 115 116 117
118 119 120 121 122 123 124
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Liv. 9.18.5; Tac. Ann. 2.73. I have considered Curtius’ work more closely in chapter 2, see pages 41–46. Trans. John C. Rolfe. Curt 4.2.4: non tenuit iram, cuius alioqui potens non erat. Ibid. 4.6.17. Ibid. 4.6.30. Cf. chapter 2, pages 00. Trans. Henry John Walker. Val. Max. 9.3.pref. Yavetz 1996, 121. Val. Max. 9.3.ext.1. Anger was already a central theme in Homer’s epic. Harris dates the first clear manifestations of anger control to Athens in the 420s BC. Possibly there were earlier attempts at limiting anger, but sources from the sixth century BC have not survived. Harris 2001, 26. Harris 2001, 94. For Aristotelian views on anger, see Harris 2001, 93–96. Ibid. 97–99. The first Stoics, Zeno, and especially Dionysius of Heraclea, promoted the idea that all forms of anger were to be avoided. Harris 2001, 104–105. Later Chrysippus defined passions as ‘perverse judgments’, so that an ‘absolutist’ opposition to anger was the ideal. Harris 2001, 107. Traces of Cicero’s anti-anger views can be found in his writings. In the letter to his younger brother, Quintus, who was governor of the province of Asia, Cicero gives counsel to avoid anger. Cic. QF 1.37–40. Anger is the worst of vices. Cic. Tusc. 4.43, 54. The ideal leader in Cic. Rep. 1.38.59–60 can control his anger. In De Officiis Cicero states that god never becomes angry or does harm. Cic. Off. 3.102. Harris 2001, 204–211. Cic. Tusc. 4.39–50. According to Harris, Cicero probably did not read Aristotle’s Nicomachean Ethics. But Cicero was criticizing a kind of ‘vulgar Aristotelianism’. Harris 2001, 110–111. Cic. Tusc. 4.37.79. For the tradition that the king attempted to commit suicide after realizing he had killed his beloved friend Cleitus, cf. Arr. an. 4.9.2. Like Cicero, one aspect of the work, written in 49 or 50, is an attempt to reject Peripatetic views. Anger is not natural and is not useful for courage or justice. In addition to this, we should also keep in mind the political aspects of the work. For the work, see Harris 2001, 112–115, 220–223, 251–253. See Sen. Ira 1.1.1. Robert Kaster describes the audience of On anger as “wealthy men, socially well-connected and supremely spoiled, leading a life of fabulous privilege and comfort.” Kaster 2010, 12–13. Aristotle’s views are criticized in Sen. Ira 1.9.2 and 3.3. See also Seneca’s Letters 85, 99.15, 116. Ibid. 3.16.1–2. This becomes evident in the passage where Seneca states how it is risky to be angry with an equal, insane to be angry with a superior, and vile/low (sordidum) to be angry with a social inferior. Sen. Ira 2.34.1. Harris 2001, 229. Persian kings like Cambyses, Xerxes, and Darius, and tyrants like Dionysius, often represented the prototype of the angry despot. In addition to Alexander, the Roman emperor Gaius Caligula is Seneca’s chief warning example. Cf. Sen. Ira 2.33.3–6, 3.18.3–19. Sen. Ira 2.23.3. Trans. Robert A. Kaster. Sen. Ira 3.17.1–2: haec barbaris regibus feritas in ira fuit, quos nulla eruditio, nullus litterarum cultus inbuerat: dabo tibi ex Aristotelis sinu regem Alexandrum, qui Clitum carissimum sibi et una educatum inter epulas transfodit manu quidem sua, parum adulantem et pigre ex Macedone ac libero in Persicam servitutem transeuntem. nam Lysimachum aeque familiarem sibi leoni obiecit. Trans. Robert A. Kaster. Sen. Ira 3.23.1–2: huius nepos fuit Alexander, qui lanceam in convivas suos torquebat, qui ex duobus amicis, quos paulo ante rettuli, alterum ferae
Alexander as a model of behavior 129
126 127
128 129 130 131 132 133
134 135 136
137 138 139 140 141 142 143 144 145 146
147 148 149
obiecit, alterum sibi. ex his duobus tamen qui leoni obiectus est vixit. non habuit hoc avitum ille vitium, ne paternum quidem; nam si qua alia in Philippo virtus, fuit et contumeliarum patientia, ingens instrumentum ad tutelam regni. Sen. Ira 3.17.1–4. As distinct from Valerius, who included Callisthenes in his list, Seneca picks up Telesphoros the Rhodian. Curtius did not believe the Lysimachus anecdote to be true: Curt. 8.1.16–17. In Spencer 2002, 100, the passage is translated as follows: “I shall present you with Alexander, a king nurtured by the care of Aristotle, yet who stabbed his dearest friend with his own hands.” However, it seems that in the work where Seneca directly criticized the Aristotelian concept of anger, the passage was not intended to be read as praise of Aristotle’s education. Braund 2011, 11–15. Ibid. 16–17. Sen. Clem. 1.1.2–4. Part of the audience consisted of the members of the Roman elite who were observing Seneca’s abilities to teach the young emperor and respect the senate. The historical figure who recurs as an exemplum worthy of imitation in De clementia is Augustus. The broadly positive treatment of Augustus as Nero’s role model dominates the work. Braund 2011, 62–64. Trans. John W. Basore. Sen. Clem. 1.25.1: oro te, Alexander, leoni Lysimachum obicias an ipse laceres dentibus tuis? tuum illud os est, tua illa feritas. Trans. W. C. Helmbold. Plut. Mor. De cohib. ira 458b: Ἀλέξανδρος δὲ πικρότερος αὑτοῦ γέγονεν ἐν τοῖς περὶ Καλλισθένη καὶ Κλεῖτον. ᾗ καὶ Πῶρος ἁλοὺς παρεκάλει χρήσασθαι βασιλικῶς αὐτῷ· καὶ πυθομένου ‘μή τι πλέον;’ ‘ἐν τῷ βασιλικῶς’ ἔφη ‘πάντ’ ἔνεστι’. Plutarch’s Life of Alexander and On the fortune or the virtue of Alexander do not refer to the king’s anger as the Latin writers do. As an exception cf. the passages in Plut. Alex. 13.1–2, 16.7, which are not, however, very critical of the king. Cf. pages 00 of the present study. There are many Latin expressions referring to banquets and dinner-parties, such as convivium, epulae, commissationes. D’Arms 1995, 305; Laurence 2009, 110–114. For overviews of alcohol and drunkenness in Roman society, see Gourevitch 2013, 74 (n. 6). Gourevitch 2013 explores the distinction between acute alcoholism and habitual alcoholism in antiquity. Cf. Ath. 12.53, 12.55; Ael. VH 3.23. Liv. 9.18.5. See further analysis on the passages from Velleius and Tacitus on pages 00. Ael. VH 3.23. Curt. 10.5.34. Curtius says the banquets with their barbaric conduct began early, involving the mad enjoyment of heavy drinking and being up all night with harlots. Curt. 6.2.1–5. Curt. 8.1.22. Ibid. 8.1.27. See an additional analysis of the passages from Curtius on pages 00. We know that this defense for drinking by appealing to literary and philosophical conversation existed in the Classical world. For example, the Younger Cato’s notorious drinking habits were excused by a passion for ‘academic’ conversation which could only take place during drinking. Plut. Vit. Cat. 6.2–3. Plut. Alex. 23.1 and 3–4. Plutarch remarks that besides becoming boastful in this condition the king was surrounded by flatterers. This annoyed those ‘finer spirits’ in the king’s company, who did not enjoy the flatterers’ company. The Natural history (14.137–148) is the earliest encyclopedia on the ancient world, in 36 books, and the epistle referred to is the 83rd letter of Seneca the Younger. It covered the geography of the Earth, the forms of human life, the animals of land, sea, and air, metals and minerals.
130 Alexander as a model of behavior 150 Murphy 2004, 211–213. It is hard to find the ‘real Pliny’ and his philosophical thinking. He was probably a representative of ‘eclecticism’ or ‘pragmatic Stoicism’. Ibid. 9–11. 151 Plin. HN 14.7. 152 According to Athenaeus (Ath. 6.258b), Clearchus called Androcydes a ‘flatterer’ (kolax). 153 Plin. HN 14.7. 154 Sen. Ep. 83. For another treatment of Seneca’s 83rd letter and Alexander, see Spencer 2006, 91–102. Spencer does not concentrate on the alcohol itself, but on the dynamics of epistolary advice under the regime of Nero. For Spencer the passage on alcohol stressed self-discipline, temperance, and control of bodily functions. Spencer 2006, 95. 155 In the 83rd letter Seneca claims that not even the ‘wise person’ (sapiens) can become intoxicated and still act properly. 156 Sen. Ep. 83.18–23. 157 Sen. Ep. 83.19. 158 There probably already existed a tradition in Hellenistic literature that the king’s fatal fever was preceded by heavy drinking. Plutarch denies in his Life of Alexander that the king received a fatal fever after heavy drinking. Plut. Alex. 75.3–4. The big silver cups from Boeotia were called the drinking-bowls of Hercules. Ath. 11.101. 159 Sen. Ep. 83.18–25. 160 Cf. Gourevitch 2013, 74–75. 161 Gourevitch 2013, 83. D’Arms 1995 sees problems in ascribing alcoholism to the ancient world. 162 For Galen on heavy-drinking, see Gourevitch 2013 78–81. 163 Burliga 2013 has recently stressed the influence of the Stoic Epictetus on his student Arrian and the philosophical motives behind the presentation of Alexander in Arrian. 164 For example, in the Alexander Romance the king is purified from drunkenness and cruelty in anger. However, it is unlikely that the Alexander Romance was intended to criticize Roman passages concerning Alexander’s anger and consumption of wine. Cf. Nawotka 2017, 28. 165 Trapp 2007, 243. 166 Ibid. 236. 167 Vespasian and Domitian are, for example, reported to have promulgated edicts expelling philosophers from the capital and Italy. Trapp 2007, 235. For Quintilian, philosophical texts could be part of the reading list but not anything else. Trapp 2007, 249. For the suspicion of Greek philosophers in Rome, see Morford 2002, 19–20. 168 For the dating of the work, see Dyck 1997, 8–10. 169 Dyck 1996, 10–16. 170 Cic. Off. 1.74. 171 Unsurprisingly, Cicero refers to his achievements in the Catilinarian conspiracy and speaks to his son Marcus about the importance of dealing with internal state affairs rather than undertaking military efforts. Ibid. 1.78. He compares famous generals with politicians – Themistocles with Solon, Pausanias with Lysander, Marius with Marcus Scaurus, and Q. Lutatius with Pompey – and informs his readers that these politicians were not lesser but greater than their militant counterparts. Ibid. 1.75–76. 172 The condemnation of Caesar and the pursuit of glory are also important aspects of the work. Dyck 1996, 31–32. 173 This theme of Alexander’s degeneration also appears in the work of Curtius, but with different aims, which I have handled in chapter 2. 174 Cic. Off. 1.90. 175 In Cicero’s presentation, sticking to moral virtues is worth more than gaining military achievements. Cic. Off. 1.90. 176 Phil. Cher. 63.4–64.1. In his writings, Philo used exempla from both the Hebrew Bible and Classical literature. For the exempla used in the Cherubim, see Alexandre 1999, 217–218.
Alexander as a model of behavior 131 177 178 179 180 181 182 183 184 185 186 187 188 189 190 191 192 193 194 195 196 197 198 199 200 201 202
203 204
205 206 207 208 209
καὶ τὰ τῇδε καὶ τὰ τῇδε ἐμά. Phil. Cher. 63.6–64.1. Cf. also pages 00. For Roman figures as exempla in Seneca, see Mayer 2008. Crittenden 2012, 131–136. Strange 2004, 39–42. Sen. Ep. 113. Seneca’s moral epistles were composed in the context of a one-to-one relationship between a ‘spiritual leader’ and his pupil. For Seneca’s moral letters, see Setaioli 2014, 191–201; Trapp 2007, 213–214. Sen. Ep. 113.29. Trans. Richard M. Gummere. Sen. Ep. 113.30: imperare sibi maximum imperium est. Sen. Ep. 119. Sen. Ep. 119.3. Ibid. 119.7. Ibid. 119.10. The wise man (sapiens) is also presented as the ideal when it comes to drinking wine properly in the 83rd letter: see page 113. Sen. Ben. 7.2.4–3.2. 2.pref.5. See also Sen. Q.Nat. 5.18.10, 6.23.2–4. Sen. Ep. 94. Sen. Ep. 94.60. Ibid. 94.62. Ibid. Seneca mentions Pompeius’ ‘boundless desire to grow bigger’ and Caesar’s selfseeking and his desire to not allow a single person to outrank him, although the Republic had then allowed two men to stand at its head. Sen. Ep. 94.64–66. Sen. Ep. 94.71. Lucan’s Bellum Civile (10.20–50), Silius Italicus’ Punica (13.762–776), and Juvenal’s Satires (10.168–171). Luc. 10.10–20. Luc. 10.25. Luc. 10.35–40. Luc. 10.40–45. Trans. J. D. Duff. Luc. 10.41 – 45: occurrit suprema dies, naturaque solum / hunc potuit finem vaesano ponere regi; / qui secum invidia, quo totum ceperat orbem, / abstulit imperium, nulloque herede relicto / totius fati lacerandas praebuit urbes. Trans. J. D. Duff. Lucan’s epic describes the tragedy of how Alexander’s empire was finally lost to the Parthians who showed respect towards him. This is added with the statement: “But in his own Babylon he fell and the Parthians revered him” (sed cecidit Babylone sua Parthoque verendus). It was composed with the information found from Livy and using Virgil’s Aeneid as model. In contrast to Lucan’s On the civil war, in the Punica the gods participate in the events. In Lucan’s On the civil war Alexander is introduced into the text when Caesar ponders his future actions and his predecessors. Similarly, in Silius’ composition, Alexander appears in the passage where Scipio thinks about his expedition to Spain and meets his Roman and non-Roman predecessors. Trans. J. D. Duff. Sil. Pun. 13.763–766: hic ille est, tellure vagus qui victor in omni / cursu signa tulit, cui pervia Bactra Dahaeque, / qui Gangen bibit et Pellaeo ponte Niphaten / astrinxit, cui stant sacro sua moenia Nilo. Ibid. 13.775. Hannibal is described as a man for whom all of Africa was too small. In Juvenal’s work, Hannibal is a man who once wrought havoc on the world but who now offers only delight to schoolboys. Juv. 10.166–167. Juv. 10.168–170. Trans. Susanna Morton Braund. Juv. 10.171–172: cum tamen a figulis munitam intraverit urbem, / sarcophago contentus erit.
132 Alexander as a model of behavior 210 Luc. Dial. mort. 12.3–5. 211 Trans. M. D. Macleod. Luc. Dial. mort. 12.6: καὶ οὐκ αἰσχύνῃ, ὦ Ἀλέξανδρε, οὐδὲ τὸν τῦφον ἀπομαθήσῃ καὶ γνώσῃ σεαυτὸν καὶ συνήσεις ἤδη νεκρὸς ὤν; For the same theme of a king’s limited fame and success in Lucian, see also Luc. Dial. mort. 13.3–4. 212 The phrase occurs in Arrian ten times: cf. Arr. an. 1.3.5, 3.3.1. For the list of occurrences, see Stewart 1993, 84 (n. 47). For pothos as an explanation, see also Blits 2011, 46–48. 213 Arr. Ind. 20.1–3. 214 In Curtius, this phrase occurs five times, for example, when Curtius writes about the king’s yearning to conquer Aornos. Curt. 5.2.5. For the list of occurrences, see Stewart 1993, 84 (n. 47). 215 Bosworth 1980, 62, sees the formula as Herodotean and not as a phrase copied from Nearchus or Ptolemy. 216 As an exception, see Curt. 3.1.16. The critique of Alexander’s campaigns in Arrian and Curtius appears to be advanced by the Indian Brahmans (cf. Arr. an. 7.1.6) or the Scythian king (Curt. 7.8.12–30). It would be exaggerating to say that their overall narrative could be regarded as critical of Alexander’s imperialism. 217 Sen. Suas. 1.3. 218 Spencer 2002, 138–163, sees the physical limits of Alexander’s campaign as part of his fascination and as a persuasive model for Roman imperialism. Spencer stresses that without limits, greatness corrupts. 219 Baynham 1998, 11; Griffin 2013, 195; Asirvatham 2013, 313; Brunt 2013, 353. 220 Sen. Ira 2.23.3; Sen. Ep. 59.11–12. 221 Phil. Opt. 4.17. In this passage, Philo does not mention Alexander by name. However, the chosen epithets indicate clearly that the king and hegemon in question is Alexander, the founder of Alexandria. Cf. Runia 2001, 140. 222 Trapp 2007, 58. 223 Stoneman also thought this in his article, even though he did not examine that question. Stoneman 2003, 328. Burliga 2013, 61–62 follows Stoneman, and states that we should not consider the passages concerning Alexander primarily as views or opinions but as exempla.
4
Alexander in relations of power and influence
The previous chapter showed that images of Alexander as a philosopher – king and a bloodthirsty despot were exploited as an argumentative strategy in philosophical and pedagogical texts. These philosophical passages were not composed with the purpose of passing judgment on Alexander as a man, but to discuss contemporary moral debates and the value of philosophy in the ancient world. In this chapter, I explore the strategy of using Alexander as an exemplum with the purpose of gaining power, status, and authority in the social networks of the Roman elites. As in the previous chapter, the use of the past as a strategy for self-promotion becomes evident when the uses of historical exempla in the competition over status and wealth are discussed. This chapter focuses on the way in which the past provided an arsenal of flattering comparisons and analogies for an author in his communication with an addressee. The Roman Empire was fundamentally deeply hierarchical. The ancient writers lived in a world in which relations were formed either between superior and subordinate, or between equals. The former refers to patronage (between patronus and cliens) and the latter to friendship (between amici).1 However, sometimes the terms patronus and cliens were avoided when Romans wrote about patronage relations.2 Individuals involved in such relationships were at times called amici rather than patroni or clientes.3 Since the whole of Roman society was based on the relationship between patrons and their clients, an individual belonging to the cultural elite had to maintain good relations with his patron if he was to advance his status. Patronage and friendship in the Greco-Roman world have been widely studied. Instead of exploring patronage relations and friendship between men in the upper echelons of Roman society de facto, my interest here is in investigating the use of historical exempla and the historical tradition in the interactions between a writer and his addressee. This topic of research has not usually interested scholars concentrating on the nature of friendship and patronage in ancient society, or on the views about friendship expressed by Classical writers.4 Although we sometimes lack background information specifically on the relationship between the author and his addressee, this does not prevent us from examining the function of historical exempla in the communication and social exchange of the Roman elites. The present chapter shows the way portraits of Alexander constructed a
134 Alexander in relations of power and influence desired relationship between a patron and his client, and between a writer and his primary audience. It will shed new light not only on the role of history as an exhortative model in the communication of the Roman elites, but also on the way the Romans used analogies and comparisons as a means to enhance their status in the community. I ask how and why the writers used their idealized presentations of friendship and patronage in the Roman Empire. Does the role which Alexander plays change or stay the same? I have gathered passages that were usually written for a specific occasion to make an impact on particular addressees. Most of the sources used in this chapter are private letters, public orations, and prefaces addressed to a highly ranked recipient. The references to the past do not appear in the texts as mere conventions of letter-writing or oratory, but as an argumentative strategy designed to achieve a purpose and as a means of self-promotion. I concentrate on the authors’ intention to gain personal authority and status by referring to Alexander. The dynamics of the historical exempla are thus linked with the private realities of the Roman elite. In the first part of this chapter, I focus on the passages about Alexander and his court artists. The scope of the study is to examine how and why the writers of the Early and Later Empire draw their comparisons and analogies between Alexander and their influential addressees. Next, I investigate whether the references to Alexander’s relations with his friends and tutors can be considered as a recurrent strategy in the Roman Empire. What rhetorical and social aims were these presentations of friendship and definitions of the ideal tutorial relationship hoping to transmit? The third subchapter examines the popularity of the anecdote of Alexander’s yearning for a poet like Homer to record his achievements.
Patronage and strategies of courtesy I begin with texts containing flattering analogies and comparisons with the past. How and why was the image of Alexander as a patron of the arts part of the rhetorical strategies and social negotiations used by Roman writers? What kind of analogies and presentations of patronage were presented with the help of the past? I first deal with the writings dating to the end of the Roman Republic and the Augustan age that exploit the strategy of referring to Alexander as a patron of the arts. First, of interest are three passages from Cicero (106–43 BC), Horace (65–8 BC), and Vitruvius (1st c. BC). These texts offer a striking overview of the Early Empire ruled by a single man. Second, these passages are compared with the texts of Late Antiquity written by Sozomen (d. ca. 450), Himerius (ca. 310–390), Ausonius (310–395), and Ennodius (473/4–521), which use the same historical exemplum or similar rhetorical strategies as the three earlier writers. The Classical literary tradition presents Alexander as an illustrious patron of the arts. The king promoted his official ‘cultural policy’ by hand-picking only the best artists to represent him visually.5 These famous artists – Lysippus and Apelles – accompanied Alexander on his expeditions and enjoyed special respect at his court. Their works of art were widely known and copied in antiquity. In the
Alexander in relations of power and influence 135 existing tradition, there were also other artists promoted by the Macedonian king, one of whom was Choerilus, a court poet, who was infamous for his flattering but poorly composed verses.6 In Roman literature, the tradition of Alexander as a patron of the arts became a point of reference for authors who wrote about the liberal arts and its promotion. As far as we know, Cicero’s epistle to Lucceius is the first recorded passage referring to anecdotal material on Alexander as a patron of the arts. Lucceius was a historian whose historical work also included records of his own contemporary period. In his letter, written in April 55 BC, Cicero is making sure that Lucceius gives him a suitable role in his forthcoming work. The letter was thus a request, and it can be considered as a social negotiation.7 In the letter, Cicero says: “I want to be honored and praised by you above all others.”8 Cicero then explicitly states that he wants to receive ‘everlasting glory’ and takes Alexander’s relationship between Apelles and Lysippus as an example for the hoped-for artistic cooperation: Alexander the Great did not ask Apelles to paint his portrait and Lysippus to sculpt his statue in order to curry favor with these artists, but because he believed the work would redound to his own fame as well as theirs.9 Alexander’s relationship to these two well-known Classical artists is compared to the potential relationship betwen Cicero and Lucceius. If Lucceius were to write about Cicero’s undertakings in the way that Apelles and Lysippus depicted Alexander, both individuals would gain lasting benefit and memory. Cicero’s consulship and dissolution of the Catiline conspiracy are compared to Alexander’s career. Similarly, Lucceius’ abilities as a writer are compared with Apelles’ and Lysippus’ skills.10 Through this comparison, Cicero attempts to convince Lucceius that he is also thinking of his benefit, in the same way that Alexander did in relation to his sculptor and painter. The reference is an encouragement to imitate the life of the famous king and his artists. In this Ciceronian passage, Alexander’s relationship with his artists functions as rhetorical assurance. It is intended to ensure that the historian leaves an idealistic and favorable image of the author for posterity. Cicero worries about how his achievements will be portrayed. Of importance to Cicero was not Alexander’s actual actions, whatever he believed they were, but how the anecdote about Alexander could be used to his advantage. Cicero’s epistle shows us how the reference to the historical tradition was constructed to achieve personal goals in the present. In this social negotiation, the past served as an indicator for how things were or should be in Cicero’s day. It was a means of self-promotion and a rhetorical strategy for achieving the author’s aims. In the Greek world, wealthy rulers like the tyrants of the Classical era or Hellenistic monarchs offered economic support and shelter to philosophers and artists.11 From the Late Republic to the Principate, this system also became common in the Roman Empire. The emperors and wealthy Roman aristocrats like Maecenas (ca. 70–8 BC) were often the patrons of poets, sculptors, and historians.
136 Alexander in relations of power and influence Emperor Augustus in particular became known for his cultural policy in Rome, and a large number of artists and experts of certain professions, such as Livy, Horace, Ovid, Virgil, and Vitruvius, enjoyed his favor and patronage.12 Two Augustan texts, addressed to the emperor, compare the actions of Alexander as a patron of the arts with Augustus’ actual or potential relations with the liberal arts. These two passages appear in Horace’s letter to Augustus and Vitruvius’ On architecture. Both Horace and Vitruvius served as apparitores: individuals as who received a payment (commoda) for their work at the court.13 Their status was directly linked with the emperor himself and the respect they received as experts and professionals from him and in the Roman senatorial circles. The passages from Horace and Vitruvius display a similar strategy: they make flattering analogies with Alexander to gain Imperial favor. This was done through self-promotion and by idealizing their relationship with their patron Emperor Augustus. Horace had fought against Octavian in the civil war, but after the battle of Philippi (42 BC) he was pardoned for fighting on the Republican side. At first, his relationship with Augustus was probably mediated through Maecenas, who was Horace’s patron and a loyal supporter of Octavian Augustus. Later, there probably existed a high degree of intimacy between the poet and the emperor, since Augustus gave the poet the task of writing the lyric poem Secular hymn14 in 17 BC. More open praise of the emperor appeared in Horace’s later works.15 Horace’s letter was an answer to a request from Augustus. In the epistle, Horace eulogizes Augustus’ respect for true poetry and his ability to distinguish it from poor poetry. However, the passage should be read not only as praise of Augustus, but also as Horace’s presentation of himself to the emperor. Before referring to Alexander as a patron of the liberal arts, Horace writes that the Emperor Augustus should not choose an unworthy (indignus) poet to praise his deeds in peace and war.16 In the epistle, Horace speaks of himself as one of the poets working hard to create finely drawn poems and distinguishes himself from the unworthy ones.17 In the following sentence, Horace reminds the reader that Choerilus – an unpolished (incultus) epic poet – received little respect from King Philip but found favor with Alexander.18 Horace adds that foul verses, like those of Choerilus, can often dim bright exploits. In other words, supporting poor poets who wrote weak verses could be harmful to the patron himself. Horace states that Alexander had also passed an edict forbidding any other painter or sculpture than Apelles and Lysippus to paint and mold images of him.19 At the same time, however, he paid lavishly for a poet who wrote ridiculous verses. Therefore, Horace argues that Alexander’s judgment (iudicium) was not based on expert knowledge founded ‘upon books and the gifts of the Muses’.20 In contrast, Augustus’s judgment was well-grounded, as the emperor supported first-class poets like Virgil and Varus. When Horace depicts the emperor as an individual invariably able to distinguish the value of true art, in contrast to rex Alexander, he is attempting to build up a relationship with Augustus.21 Horace’s flattering analogy is not primarily about expressing his own opinions on Alexander’s cultural policy, but is part of his argumentative strategy designed to distinguish himself from poor poets like Choerilus. In other words, sponsoring Horace in the future would be profitable to
Alexander in relations of power and influence 137 the emperor, as his sponsorship of Virgil and Varus had been. In Horace, the figure of Alexander was part of a rhetoric intended to amuse, flatter, and appeal to the emperor, who resolutely opposed his own portrayal as a monarch.22 The Roman architect and military engineer Vitruvius exploits, in his treatise, the same strategy of drawing an analogy between Alexander and Augustus. He compares himself to Alexander’s expert architect, Deinocrates.23 The text was written sometime between 30 and 20 BC and was addressed to Augustus.24 Vitruvius’ work served not only to give an account of the right principles of architecture and engineering, but to also to convince his audience of the special nature of architecture as an ideal discipline. By promoting the architect’s education and wage, the author demonstrated that the life of the architect was superior to that of practitioners of other arts.25 We encounter the story of Alexander’s architect in the prologue of Vitruvius’ second book. In the story, Deinocrates, clothed in the Herculean lion skin with club in hand, comes from Macedon to meet the king.26 In some Classical texts, Alexander’s architect was from Rhodes, while in others his native land is not mentioned, but Vitruvius states that his patria was Macedon.27 Given that Vitruvius addressed his work to Augustus and since he served as an architect during the latter’s reign, the passage was probably written with the purpose of defining his own position before the emperor. In Classical literature, Deinocrates was noted for his outrageous projects. According to the story, Deinocrates suggested that Mount Athos be converted into a giant statue of Alexander and that a spacious city be established there.28 Unsurprisingly, in On architecture, Deinocrates and his plan do not receive critical treatment as they do in other Classical texts.29 In Vitruvius’ text, the king is delighted by the proposition and so inquires whether the local soil would yield crops. Even though Alexander rejects the plan because of the city’s poor location for growing grain, he gives the architect recognition, and requests his services. In Vitruvius’ narrative, Deinocrates “did not leave the king but followed him to Egypt”.30 In the same passage, Alexander is described not only as interested in engineering and architecture, but also as having acquired the skills to make sound decisions on those matters.31 The king had consulted experts. Similarly, as Alexander had done for Deinocrates in the passage, the emperor could now imitate the Macedonian king by giving attention to Vitruvius’ work and position in the Imperial court. In other words, this portrait of Alexander offers a model for what Vitruvius wishes Augustus to do in the present. After writing about the establishment of Alexandria, Vitruvius compares himself with Deinocrates: Thus, Deinocrates, commended by his face and the dignity of his person, reached to this distinction. But nature has not given me stature, my countenance is uncomely with age, ill-health has taken away my strength. Therefore, although I am deserted by these defences, by the help of science and by my writings I shall, I hope, gain approval.32 Vitruvius had previously served as a military engineer for Julius Caesar and was obviously older when he wrote his treatise and addressed it to Augustus.33
138 Alexander in relations of power and influence Unsurprisingly, therefore, in contrast to Deinocrates, who is portrayed as Herculean in appearance, Vitruvius presents himself as an expert whose long experience is a guarantee of his skills and knowledge in his profession. It can be argued that Vitruvius was consciously drawing a parallel with the stereotypical image of philosophers representing theoretical wisdom. This would not only suit his possible old age but also stress the intellectual side of architecture, portraying the ideal architect as an educated man.34 In other words, his self-fashioning as a philosophically inclined intellectual instead of a Herculean Deinocrates is almost certainly part of a deliberate strategy. There were probably younger architects rivaling him for this status in the Augustan court who threatened Vitruvius’ position. Vitruvius therefore presented himself as an expert whose scientific knowledge would benefit the emperor, just as Deinocrates’ contribution benefitted Alexander. Vitruvius hoped his treatise would garner attention at the Imperial court, during or just after Augustus’ extensive building program.35 The flattering association of the emperor Augustus with Alexander served not only as praise for the emperor’s skills but also to confirm Vitruvius’ own role in the Augustan building projects. Octavian/Augustus copied and alluded to Alexander in his official portraits and statues before and after becoming the sole ruler of Rome.36 The emperor was therefore probably pleased to be compared favorably with the famous Macedonian king. Horace’s and Vitruvius’ comparisons between Alexander and Augustus acted as motivating forces in the present. In Horace’s letter, the Macedonian king’s sponsoring of the poor poet was an indication that Augustus, as a patronus maior, should act differently and should sponsor skillful poets like Horace himself. In Vitruvius’ text, the relationship between Alexander and his architect served to prove that Vitruvius’ own relationship with Augustus was justified and beneficial for all in the Empire. In these passages, we can see how well-known historical anecdotes functioned in a clear strategy for authors involved in social negotiation and competition for power and prestige. After the Augustan writers, the practice of referring to Alexander to flatter decreases. However, from the fourth century onwards, we once again encounter passages which rely upon the same strategy, especially in letters and orations. Comparatio Alexandri was considered a mark of respect in the sociopolitical culture of Late Antiquity. Used in this way, the illustrious career and personality of the Macedonian king was seen both as idealizing the present and as a flattering stimulus.37 Even though Alexander is not presented as a patron of the arts, the rhetorical strategy behind the comparatio Alexandri and its function follows the same pattern as in Horace and Vitruvius. In the preface to his Church history, written in the early fifth century, Sozomen compares Theodosius II, to whom the work was addressed, to Alexander.38 Sozomen, an advocate, presents a favorable portrait of Theodosius as a Christian Roman emperor possessing all of the standard martial qualities. The figure of Alexander appears in a passage in which Sozomen praises Theodosius’ self-control (ἐγκρατείᾳ) and alludes to a recent incident which took place as the emperor was traveling to the city of Heraclea in Pontus.39 During the trip, undertaken in the summer season, one of the Imperial bodyguards offered the emperor cold water:
Alexander in relations of power and influence 139 But when all the soldiers were wondering with open mouth at the dish, and were counting him blessed who should drink, you, O noble Emperor, returned the drink to him and commanded him to use it in whatever way he pleased. So that it seems to me that Alexander, the son of Philip, was surpassed by your virtue; whom it is reputed by his admirers, that while he, with the Macedonians, was passing through a waterless place, an anxious soldier found water, drew it, and offered it to Alexander; he would not drink it, but poured out the draught.40 The Macedonian king’s refusal to drink the water was a commonplace theme in Classical literature.41 Sozomen refers to ‘Alexander’s admirers’ who had praised the king’s conduct in their works. However, it is important that Theodosius’ action surpassed that of the Macedonian king. The introduction was probably recited in front of the court in Constantinople. Actual admiration can be considered Sozomen’s secondary motive. Of most importance to him was gaining acceptance before the emperor and to please him with flattering comparisons in the hope of securing a position at the court. The role of Alexander in writers’ strategies of flattery and self-promotion becomes evident in the passages from Himerius, Ausonius, and Ennodius. One of Himerius’ Orations, written from 350 to 370, is addressed to Hermogenes, the proconsul of Greece.42 In the speech, Himerius portrays Hermogenes as an ideal officeholder who had devoted himself to studying philosophy and rhetoric. Himerius makes reference to various figures of Greek mythology and literature. For example, he compares Hermogenes to Pythagoras and Plato. Moreover, analogies between Alexander and Lysippus and Hermogenes and the artists of the day are also made. Himerius claims that his speech depicts a more accurate image of Hermogenes than those made in wax and colors. Himerius argues that all the artists of the plastic arts should compete in representing Hermogenes, since it would lead them to great fame and reputation like that gained by Lysippus when he worked for Alexander. Himerius asks, in a flattering way: Would not someone who had depicted you [in stone] for the Greeks have understandably felt superior to other artisans, because he would have portrayed a person who is a philosopher as well as a strategos.43 In this passage, Himerius exploits the image of Alexander as a philosopher – king that had already been frequently used by Plutarch.44 By using Alexander’s figure, Himerius is able to idealize and praise Hermogenes’ military skills and the depth of his philosophical wisdom. We do not know much about the relationship between Himerius and Hermogenes, but in the speech Himerius explains that Hermogenes had encouraged him at the beginning of his career.45 It is probable that Hermogenes, as a man of paideia, had financed Himerius, and the speech and its ideal presentation of Hermogenes was intended to strengthen this patronus relationship. In this context, the reference to Alexander and Lysippus served both as a vehicle of flattery and as a device for Himerius’ self-promotion as a skillful orator.
140 Alexander in relations of power and influence The same strategy of using an historical exemplum as a means of flattery and self-fashioning can be noted in Ausonius’ letter to Petronius Probus and Ennodius’ Panegyric to Theoderic. In the letter, Ausonius refers to Alexander’s patronage of Choerilus not only for the purpose of pleasing, but also as a guarantee for the suggested cooperation.46 Probus had served as the Praetorian Prefect of Africa and Illyria and he was clearly a man of higher rank than Ausonius. Probus had previously asked Ausonius to send him some works for his son’s education, and along with these books, Ausonius introduced a new poem which he had probably composed upon Probus’ request.47 In the letter, Ausonius states his eagerness to write a work on the career of Probus, apologizes that he has written the new poem in hurry, and adds: Since I have copied Choerilus in his madness, you must pardon me with the generosity of Alexander.48 Ausonius draws a parallel between his relationship with Probus and that of Alexander and Choerilus. Ausonius describes Choerilus as vesanus, which could also be translated as someone who acts without reason or uncontrollably. Here, it could mean that Ausonius writes with the same passion as Choerilus. In the passage, Ausonius suggests tongue in cheek that Probus should pardon him for his highmindedness (magnanimitas), which is a reference to the fact that the poet enjoyed Alexander’s financial support. Much as the king pardoned the possible faults of his poet, Probus would in his turn pardon Ausonius’ possible artistic shortcomings. The chosen parallel was intended to amuse Probus and use history as an encouragement for a rewarding cooperation.49 Ennodius’ Panegyric to Theoderic exploits the same exemplum but differently, since he contrasts the writer and his addressee with Choerilus and Alexander. Ennodius probably wrote the Panegyric in 507, but it is not clear where the speech was delivered or whether the Ostrogothic king Theoderic was present.50 The political purpose of the speech was to legitimize Theoderic’s rule, and especially his intervention as successor to the Western Roman emperors in Italy.51 Ennodius promotes an image of himself as the supporter of the king’s reign and as a clergyman capable of being court poet for Theoderic: The Pellean leader wished his entire praises to be composed by the services of a Choerilus, so that the multitude not catch his desire to deceive and that he who was lured into confirming his victory not become a witness to his impudence. I would detract nothing from those whom antiquity considered exceptional, had not the revival of Roman renown brought you forward.52 The relationship between Choerilus and Alexander is implicitly compared with that of Ennodius and Theoderic. Theoderic’s achievements are presented as greater than Alexander’s. Ennodius, as the speaker, is insistent that his verses do not exaggerate, unlike those of various other poets. He is not a flatterer, like Choerilus, but a speaker who deserves his position in the court. The argumentative
Alexander in relations of power and influence 141 strategy here is to place Ennodius and Theoderic above previous poets and kings. At the time of writing, Ennodius was probably a deacon in Milan (ca. 495–513), but later he was elected bishop of Pavia.53 Through his actions, including his composition of orations with flattering analogies, he successfully won the favor of the Ostrogothic king. In the passages cited above, Alexander’s willingness to support the mediocre poet Choerilus was depicted differently. In Ausonius’ text, the relationship between the king and his court poet was presented as worthy of praise and imitation. The fact that Choerilus’ poetry was not perfect but passionate was a stimulus for the patron to pardon Ausonius’ failings in poetic diction. However, in Ennodius’ text, Choerilus’ verses symbolized bad poetry and the worst kind of patronus – cliens relationship. With this comparison, Ennodius intended to show his better quality as a court orator and poet, and to present Theoderic as a greater patron than Alexander had been. The passages of Ausonius and Ennodius nonetheless still had the same function of justifying and idealizing the relationship between themselves and their addressees, as well as amusing their audience and following literary conventions. The comparisons and analogies examined here were created to gain the favor of patrons and to encourage them to make decisions which would benefit the authors. This analysis shows that Alexander and his patronage served as an example and stimulus for Roman social networks in both the Early and Later Empire. The financial support that patrons provided for their artists frequently provided the only possible way for them to practice their profession.54 However, this material support depended mainly on the generosity of the higher-ranking patron and on how much the artist and his works pleased him. Therefore, writers representing professions like poetry, engineering, or oratory made use of anecdotes that enabled them to idealize the cooperation in question. In the present passages, the potential relationship between the writer and his addressee was depicted as a cooperation benefitting both parties. As in the case of Alexander and Lysippus, the patronage would benefit the patron as well as the artist. The comparison or analogy provided an advantageous self-presentation of the writer himself and his addressee.
Presenting friendship, loyalty, and allegiance Next, we move on to the stories of the king’s friends and philosopher – tutors. I investigate how and why the portrait of Alexander treating his subordinates – whether kindly or badly – is compared to contemporary Roman social relations. In what way was the reference to the king’s relations with his intimate friends a deliberate strategy on the part of the Roman writers? The theme of friendship is important, since it reveals how the famous relationships of the king could be used to emphasize and idealize potential relationships in the present. In the Early Empire, Valerius Maximus is practically the only author (alongside the so-called Alexander Historians, such as Curtius, Diodorus, and Arrian) who considers the matter. On the other hand, there are more surviving sources from Late Antiquity that handle this theme of friendship. These include the letters of Basil and
142 Alexander in relations of power and influence Gregory, Julian’s Panegyric, and several of Themistius’ orations. I first analyze the Early Imperial texts written by the Alexander Historians and Valerius Maximus, as they laid the groundwork for the passages from the fourth century. Alexander’s treatment of his physician, Philip, and of his beloved friend, Hephaestion, were stories of friendship commonly transmitted by the authors who wrote about him. These stories were used to emphasize the positive outcome of genuine friendship. In the case of Philip, Alexander decided to trust in his physician even though the latter had been accused of treachery.55 In the other anecdote, Alexander publicly addressed his dearest friend Hephaestion as his alter ego to Darius’ mother.56 Although, in the traditional thinking of the Classical world, friendship was usually something maintained between equals, sometimes bonds of mutual affection could be developed across class boundaries.57 This was at least possible in idealized presentations of the past. When Arrian writes about the king’s treatment of his physician Philip, he remarks: “Alexander showed Philip that as his friend (φίλος) he trusted him, and his suite in general that he was resolute in refusing to suspect his friends and steadfast in the face of death.”58 Arrian was writing about a form of friendship between persons of different social status. In addition, for him, ideal friendship is linked with loyalty and trust. Similarly, Diodorus writes: “The king honored the physician with magnificent gifts and assigned him to the most loyal category of Friends (φίλος).”59 The king’s treatment of Hephaestion received praise among individuals using Alexander as a literary figure. However, in their texts, the incident is not connected with the discussion on friendship. Diodorus and Curtius both stress the way Alexander treated Darius’ mother, Sisygambis, mercifully when he addressed Hephaestion as his friend. In their passages, the anecdote does not concern the king’s relationship with Hephaestion, but shows the king’s moderation (continentia animi in Curtius and ἐλεός in Diodorus, meaning the king’s mercy) towards powerless royal women.60 In contrast, Arrian praises the trust (πίστις) and honor (τιμή) that the king showed towards his companion (ἑταῖρος).61 Yet, in Arrian’s text, the incident does not chiefly serve to highlight the ideal relationship between the king and his companion, or at least, the historian does not discuss the topic in the passage. Valerius Maximus includes these anecdotes in his work, written under the reign of Tiberius, and adapts them to his contemporary concerns. The anecdote concerning Alexander’s loyalty to his physician Philip is classified as steadfastness (constantia), while Alexander’s kind treatment of Hephaestion is classified as friendship (amicitia).62 In the former passage Alexander’s ‘loyal trust in his friend’ was the most praiseworthy aspect of the story. Valerius is saying that Alexander’s trust was notable, in that the king did not believe the false accusations against Philip, but believed in the loyalty of his friend and colleague (amicus et comes) – their bond was stronger than any suspicion. Therefore, the gods rewarded Alexander with a recovery from his illness. The anecdote should be seen in the context of Valerius’ era and regarded as an expression of the ideal relationship that an upper-class member of society could maintain with an emperor. Part of the ideal
Alexander in relations of power and influence 143 friendship was loyalty and trust, which during the civil wars of the Republic and Tiberius’ reign had often been threatened. In addition, the theme of false accusations could be attached to the cultural memory of the proscriptions (a series of state-sponsored murders of prominent individuals), carried out in the last century BC, and with the political murders carried out under the reign of Tiberius. Valerius’ passage essentially exhorts those in power to reject suspicion, and to trust in their subjects even in cases when the faithfulness of their friends is contested. Alexander’s respect for Hephaestion forms a prelude to a digression in which Valerius eulogizes his own relationship with Sextus Pompeius. After telling the anecdote, Valerius calls Alexander the ‘most magnanimous king’ (maximi animi rex) and asks which one was more praiseworthy: the man who was prepared to say these words or the one who had the good fortune to hear them. Alexander’s words gave equal glory to the giver and the receiver. Here, Valerius turns to his relationship with Sextus Pompeius and states: I have good reason to respect the gift of friendship in my own private life, since I have benefited from the affection that a very famous and learned man showered upon me. And I am not nervous that it would be inappropriate for me to say that my friend Pompeius is like Alexander, since Alexander himself felt that his friend Hephaestion was actually another Alexander.63 In Valerius’ rhetoric, Pompeius was his friend (amicus), just as Alexander was a friend for Hephaestion.64 We have little information about Pompeius, but we know he was governor of Asia in 25.65 Given what Valerius writes about Pompeius in the quotation below, we can assert that Pompeius was Valerius’ patron: He showed me affection like that of the most doting parents, and his affection enhanced the happy occasions of my life and diminished the sad ones. If my material circumstances are comfortable, that is only because he went out of his way to improve them; he made me more secure against misfortune; he made my intellectual career more brilliant and more exciting by his guidance and patronage.66 By the time Valerius wrote this eulogy, Pompeius was dead.67 Valerius depicted his patronage by Pompeius as both a warm friendship and a parental relationship, and not just as a matter of material support. It was possible for patrons to be called friends in Roman society, and this becomes evident in Valerius’ passage.68 By building a strongly idealized image of Alexander’s friendship with Hephaestion, Valerius constructs an ideal image of his relationship with Pompeius. Like Hephaestion, he had enjoyed great favors from a man of higher rank. Whether there indeed was a strong bond between these two men, as Valerius hopes to convince his audience, we do not know, but the above passage was evidently about advantageous self-presentation. Valerius Maximus wrote about amicitia, intending to offer a manual of exempla to his audience. However, it seems that in the above passage Valerius primarily stressed his own relation with Pompeius. The idealized
144 Alexander in relations of power and influence friendship maintained between Alexander and his subject was a rhetorical vehicle to flatter his patron posthumously and to construct a self-portrait of himself in which he embodied a representative of the virtue of friendship. Turning to the fourth century, the relationship between the author and his contemporary addressee is still paralleled with Alexander’s in a similar way as in the passages from Valerius Maximus discussed above. In the Later Empire, the rhetoric of loyalty and friendship become more closely linked to the sociopolitical realities of the Roman Empire and strategies of self-promotion. This was a time in which individual authors wrote to make an impact on their addressees. The uses of Alexander as a literary figure appear in both private letters and prose panegyrics of the fourth century. For example, in the private letters of Basil (330–379) and his younger brother Gregory of Nyssa (ca. 330–395), Alexander embodies an example of friendship and trust. In two of his letters, Basil of Caesarea urges his addressees to follow the example of Alexander, to place trust in his loyalty and to reject any doubts concerning his trustworthiness.69 In both letters to Sophronius, Magister officium (Master of the offices), and Elias, a governor of Cappadocia, Basil argues that friendship (φιλίᾳ) is a good enough reason to refuse to believe slander (διαβάλλοντες) and accusations. In the last part of the letter to Sophronius, Basil employs Alexander as a model for his addressee: For the future consider my affection for you superior to all slander, imitating Alexander, who, upon receiving a letter against his physician charging him with plotting against him, since at the very moment he happened to have taken some medicine to drink, was so far from putting faith in the slanderer that he both read the letter and drank the medicine at the same time.70 Basil encourages Sophronius to imitate Alexander (τὸν Ἀλέξανδρον μιμούμενος) and to regard all the accusations as false (whether there were any grounds for the suspicion regarding Basil’s loyalty we do not know). In the letter, Basil uses an historical exemplum to prove his own innocence by comparing his situation to the famous encounter between Alexander and his physician; just as the accusations against the physician Philip – suspected of trying to poison Alexander – were false, so are the accusations of disloyalty against him. Basil’s letter to Elias employs a very similar rhetorical strategy of self-promotion. With the aim of winning the governor’s trust, ‘though there are those who speak ill of him’, Basil refers to the famous action of the Macedonian king, which he thinks the governor would remember.71 Basil reminds his reader that when one of Alexander’s friends was slandered, the king kept one ear open to the one who spoke ill, but closed the other ear before believing it.72 Thus, the one speaking ill would understand that the king thought it was only half the truth and that the king would hear the defense of the one being slandered. These two letters show that the textual imagery of Alexander could be used to express one’s loyalty and respect. With the help of Alexander’s example, Basil tried to persuade his opponents to reject the unfavorable talk about him.73 He
Alexander in relations of power and influence 145 encouraged both Sophronius and Elias to heed the imitatio Alexandri and not believe the accusations. Basil intended the lessons drawn from the stories of the past to secure his own position in the sociopolitical field of power and prestige. Gregory of Nyssa’s recommendation letter to his friend Antiochus also exploits Alexander’s friendship as a rhetorical vehicle.74 Antiochus was probably not a Christian, but was accustomed to exercising patronage.75 In the foreword of the recommendation letter, Gregory writes about Alexander’s fame. In Gregory’s presentation, the king’s reputation derives not only from his victories over Persians and Indians, but also from his statement that his treasure was in his friends.76 Alexander is presented as the paradigm of ideal friendship. Gregory claims that his own exploits are as marvelous as Alexander’s, adding that he possibly surpasses Alexander in being ‘rich in friendships’ (πλουτῶ τῇ φιλίᾳ). In the letter, Gregory praises his own abilities as a loyal friend, his comparison with Alexander thus serving as self-promotion. After assuring the recipient that his words are not vain flattery but the honest talk of a grey-haired and experienced man, Gregory expresses the main purpose of the letter: to recommend his ‘beloved son Alexander’, to his correspondent.77 He asks that his addressee accept his servant and become the latter’s patron. His apprentice was the namesake of the Macedonian king, which might have inspired Gregory to make King Alexander the core of the letter. In Gregory’s epistle, the reference to the king’s respect towards his friends is again social negotiation and self-promotion. As in the private letters mentioned above, Alexander’s treatment of his friends could be exploited in the panegyrics of Late Antiquity.78 These speeches were often addressed to emperors, and the composer wrote about the remote past in the context of a social negotiation. Alexander’s praiseworthy (‘good’) and condemnable (‘bad’) actions towards his father and friends could be addressed by the same writer with the purpose of gaining authority and attaining a good position before the addressee. Julian’s Oration to his cousin, Emperor Constantius II, and Themistius’ Oration to Emperor Valens demonstrate how stories about Alexander’s relations with his friends were used as a tool to flatter men of higher rank.79 Julian wrote his Oration once appointed as Caesar sometime in 356–357. His relationship with his cousin, Emperor Constantius II, was not ideal, since Constantius had killed Julian’s father during the dynastic intrigues of 337.80 Later, Julian’s half-brother Gallus, also appointed Caesar, was executed by Constantius in 354. Against this background, one of the aims of Julian’s Oration was to prove to his cousin Constantius that he was his supporter and no threat to him.81 In Julian’s Oration, the Macedonian king is used as both a positive and a warning exemplum. In the first part of the speech Julian praises Constantius II for being dutiful towards his father Constantine and for maintaining friendly relations with his brothers. He compares the emperor with Alexander and King Cyrus, reminding his audience – probably including the emperor himself – that the former did not endure his father’s control and that the latter overthrew his grandfather.82 Since Constantius showed great modesty and self-control towards his father and brothers, he surpasses Alexander and Cyrus in their qualities when it comes to
146 Alexander in relations of power and influence ‘greatness of soul’ and ‘ambition of glory’. In another passage of the oration, Julian praises Constantius’ generosity in giving many gifts to cities and private persons:83 But it is proper that I should mention your gifts to private persons, and give you the title of a generous and open-handed Emperor . . . Especially as it must be obvious to all that no king except Alexander the son of Philip was ever known to bestow such splendid presents on his friends.84 Alexander’s generosity had been used previously as a theme in Classical literature, and in this flattering passage, Julian places Constantius above the great Macedonian.85 Julian wanted to demonstrate that he respected the gifts and the position he had received from the emperor. Accordingly, it was Julian’s indirect wish that the emperor would continue to show him kindness in the future, when Julian was to go to Gaul, and Constantius was to make a decision about the succession. If the emperor had shown generosity towards his friends, he should show even more towards his cousin, who fashioned himself as his loyal servant. It seems that the praise of the emperor’s generosity and piety in family relations was not only a conventional part of the structure of the panegyric, but also a deliberate strategy on the part of Julian to strengthen his own position with the emperor. The way Julian writes about Alexander is adapted purely to flatter and persuade his higherranking cousin. At the end of the oration, Julian magnifies Constantius’ virtues of temperance, wisdom, and affection. He praises Constantius for his cultivation of temperance since boyhood and eulogizes the emperor as a ruler whom success and prosperity did not make arrogant, although he had achieved success in a short period of time.86 After this statement, Julian uses Alexander’s career as a negative exemplum. Alexander adopted an ‘ostentatious mode of life’ and ‘an insolence of manner obnoxious to all’.87 Above all, he showed disrespect to his father and the whole human race by claiming that he was the son of Amon instead of Philip’s son.88 Julian also refers to the way Alexander treated those friends who did not want to flatter him after this claim. These men he punished more harshly than prisoners of war.89 Taking a critical stance on Alexander’s attitude, Julian adds that Constantius respected his father not only in private but in ‘public instances’ too, and that, unlike the Macedonian warlord, Constantius always treated his friends in a benevolent way by granting them titles and doing them favors.90 As Basil and Gregory did in their letters mentioned above, Julian uses Alexander as a means to persuade his addressee to act and think as he would like. It can be argued that with Alexander’s image, Julian creates an image of Constantius that suits his personal interests. In other words, Julian praises the emperor for the qualities he hopes the emperor will show towards him. Julian was probably aware that Constantius admired Alexander or used his figure to propagate his Persian expedition, so the heroic king of Macedon was a welcome comparison.91 Julian acquired more power and his reputation increased after his military success as a Caesar in Gaul.92 Constantius refused Julian a triumph after his victory
Alexander in relations of power and influence 147 at Strasbourg, which could be interpreted as a demonstration of distrust.93 Julian probably knew that Constantius did not entirely trust in his loyalty, and therefore wanted to give his uncle the impression that he had no bitterness or desire for revenge. By comparing the poor relationship of Alexander with his relatives and friends to the relationships Constantius maintained, Julian attempted to improve his status before the emperor and nullify the suspicion about his steadfastness. It is not clear when Julian started to consider the option of stirring up a revolt against Constantius, but evidently he was operating with a hidden agenda. In this imperial competition for power and prestige, Julian wanted to depict himself as the emperor’s loyal and trustworthy friend, even though he intended to become the sole ruler of the Empire when he wrote his Oration.94 Whether or not he did secretly plan to displace his cousin Constantius, Julian’s use of Alexander served to maintain his position during the latter’s reign. Themistius’ orations, composed in a period contemporary to Julian, give us interesting evidence for the way stories about Alexander could be used as a means to gain authority and flatter an addressee.95 Like Julian, Themistius writes about Alexander as a way of appealing to the reigning emperor and winning his favor. In Themistius’ orations, the themes of loyalty in friendship or mildness towards conspirators were often used as a method of flattery and a way of strengthening the writer’s relationship with several parties. This becomes evident in Themistius’ Oration addressed to Emperor Valens.96 One of its main themes was philanthropy.97 One possible reason for choosing the theme of philanthropy in the Oration was Themistius’ attempt to point out that Valens’s continuing anger and persecution of the non-Arian Christians was not necessary.98 In the final section of the speech, Themistius extols the value of trust and loyalty in friendship. After remarking that everyone values friendship, he adds that both Valens and Alexander have admirably shown this virtue. As an example, Themistius mentions the story of Alexander’s trust in and loyalty to his friend the physician Philip. The doubts raised about Philip’s loyalty may have raised the king’s suspicions, yet he decided to trust his physician.99 Themistius remarks that Alexander, his father, Philip, and even Zeus may have been insulted by doubts about conspiracies, but Valens is not. According to Themistius, Alexander’s father, though one-eyed, was able to recognize the value of his physician and raise him to an important position.100 Themistius adds that he could mention ‘one man’ of not insignificant skills comparable to the physician Philip, probably referring to Julian’s personal physician Oribasius (ca. 320–403). This Greek medical writer was banished to foreign courts after the death of Julian in 363.101 However, Valens called him back, and by using well-chosen parallels with the remote past, Themistius was probably flattering and honoring both Valens and Oribasius. Although Themistius was enhancing his status before his addressees, as in the letters of Basil and his panegyric of Julian, he also created a favorable image of the person to whom the words were addressed. In his orations, Themistius shapes his public image in the court by referring to Alexander’s tutorship under Aristotle.102 We know that Themistius served as philosopher, teacher of rhetoric, and advisor to the emperors Constantius, Julian,
148 Alexander in relations of power and influence Jovian, Valens, and Theodosius at their respective courts.103 In addition to his political activity, Themistius defended the status of philosophy and presented himself as a court philosopher following the example of Plato and Aristotle.104 In his orations, Themistius constructs his public persona as that of a philosopher, an educator, and an advisor to emperors by comparing Aristotle and Alexander’s relationship with current imperial tutorship. The first oration including this parallel was delivered to Valens at Marcianople in 368 or 369.105 In the first part of the speech, Themistius discusses the significance of philosophy in the practice of ruling and presents Valens as an ideal philosopher – emperor. He states that Alexander took the advice of Aristotle on many occasions, but on many other occasions Alexander also failed to do as he suggested.106 In contrast, Themistius states that Valens heeds every reasonable warning and pays attention to the advice he is given. Themistius drew a contrast between Alexander and Valens both to praise the emperor and to present himself as his ‘Aristotle’. The praise of the emperor’s virtues and policy in the Oration can be regarded as Themistius’ way of stressing his own role as a factor behind the emperor’s virtues and success and thus as a valuable and skilled imperial counselor. In the final passages of the Oration, Themistius strongly hints at a possible future role as the tutor of Valens’ infant son, Valentinian Galates (366 – c. 370), as he praises the marriage of Valens and Domnica: From this sacred and holy match there comes a most divine shoot, much beloved and prayed for, whom I would fashion into Alexander, and philosophy once again would boast of having such a one her charge.107 Valentinian was the only son of Valens, and Themistius stressed his ability to tutor him, depicted as the Alexander of the future. In the passage, Themistius used the image of Alexander as a philosopher – king to flatter the Imperial family. With this pleasing comparison, Themistius expresses his hope that the emperor will continue to promote philosophical training and support his position in the court. The same analogy appears again in the Oration composed one or two years later in honor of Valentinian Galates, who then became a consul.108 Themistius here recounts the boy’s birth and his acquaintance with experience of war. As in the earlier Oration, Themistius claims that under his tutelage, Valentinian Galates would receive the guidance of the illustrious Plato and the divine Aristotle who raised the great Alexander.109 According to Themistius, it was Aristotle who molded Alexander into a greater man than Darius and the Persians.110 In these texts, Themistius tries to portray himself as the ‘new Aristotle’ and implies that Valens is the ‘new Philip’. However, the idealized role that Themistius proposed for himself in the boy’s upbringing did not come to pass, as the three-or four-year-old Valentinian became ill and died in 370. About 13 years later, in the 16th Oration addressed to Emperor Theodosius, Themistius again paralleled himself with Aristotle and presented himself as a potential tutor for an emperor’s infant son. The Oration was composed to commemorate the recent peace and the consulship of the general Saturninus.111 In the
Alexander in relations of power and influence 149 Oration, Themistius eulogizes the emperor’s choice to nominate Saturninus as consul, even though he could have favored his relatives, in a way that reminds us of the conceits used in the previous Orations (8th and 9th): You could have appointed the beloved beacon of the world, whom I would make an Alexander, and philosophy would again boast to have fostered such as him.112 The ‘beloved beacon of the world’ referred to Theodosius’ six-year-old son, Arcadius. In the passage, Themistius depicts himself as a potential Aristotle in his upbringing. The passage draws a flattering picture of Arcadius as one who has the promise to become a second Alexander and underscores Themistius’ role in the court. Alexander, as the idealized philosopher – king, neatly suited Themistius’ self-fashioning as a philosopher promoting the practical benefits of learning philosophy. In Orations 8, 9, and 16 Themistius presents himself as just as worthy as Aristotle was, as a man capable of giving counsel and education based on the true wisdom of philosophy. Aristotle’s fame and his tutorship of young Alexander was a well-used theme in Late Antiquity.113 This is likely to have encouraged Themistius’ eagerness to find similarities between himself and Aristotle, an impression reinforced by Themistius’ paraphrasing of Aristotle in five of his surviving works.114 The analogy between Themistius and Aristotle has three aspects. First, it demonstrates that an emperor should invest in his son’s education, as Philip had done in Alexander’s case. Second, it presents the emperor’s son as a young prince with the promise to become another Alexander. Third, Themistius appears as a maker of ‘new’ Alexanders – a man capable of offering the best tutorial relationship with Valentinian Galates and Arcadius. In addition to Themistius’ skills as a learned philosopher and politician, essential for political success was his ability to win over the favor of different emperors and to defend the role of philosophy in public life. Even though it was customary to compare emperors with famous individuals of the past in panegyrics, for Themistius it was not merely about following past practice, but a deliberate strategy to justify and strengthen his own status as a philosopher and advisor at the Imperial court. Themistius, like other ancient writers analyzed in this subchapter, regarded history as providing a means of self-promotion in the competitive social networks of Constantinople and Rome. The concept of an exemplary past and the popularity of historical exempla in the Classical world have been recognized in Classical scholarship. Ancient authors’ views of the past as a lesson for the present and their writings about it to provide moral and political instruction to the contemporary world are only two aspects of this cultural phenomenon. Historical exempla offered a readymade arsenal of material that could be used in interactions between the members of the Roman upper classes. Behind the use of various exempla were accepted truths, ideas, petitions, and the hopes of individual authors, which the chosen stories were expected to support. To the writers of the Roman world, Alexander’s
150 Alexander in relations of power and influence relations with his close friends or with his tutor Aristotle served to mirror and give meaning to current social relations. The various positive and negative depictions of the king’s friendships and his tutorial relationship were interpretations of how friendship and tutorial relations should function in the social networks of the writers. With the help of the shared past, authors tried to confirm their loyalty and show their trustworthiness to their addressees. In addition, the flattering analogies were intended to show the writer’s respect for his addressee, whether real or false. The exercise was about projecting a suitable self-image of the author as a loyal friend or as court philosopher equal to the figures of Hephaestion, Philip, and Aristotle. Analogies from the past also enabled a favorable comparison between the addressee and the Macedonian king. The past as interpreted by the Roman writers served as a model for the present: in their rhetoric, Alexander’s famous relationship with his friends and tutors was presented, depending on the context, as an example to imitate or to avoid. Referring to Alexander’s relationship with his friends or tutors showed courtesy in social negotiations. The chosen analogy was part of a rhetorical strategy in which authors tried to obtain personal favor before their audience and men of higher rank – they were using the past to shape the present. From a modern perspective, these analogies and comparisons drawn from the tradition of Alexander might be considered arbitrary and/or exaggerated. Based on the analysis conducted in this chapter, however, I would argue that in the literary culture of antiquity, flattering analogies drawn from the past were regarded as compliments, and that these analogies were expected from men of lower rank.
Writers longing for attention and fame The anecdotes of Alexander visiting the tomb of Achilles and mourning poets like Homer were much used in ancient texts. In this subchapter, I ask why so many writers referred to the anecdote, analyzing sources containing history writing, letters, and orations in chronological order. I start with Cicero, followed by Arrian and then a passage from the Historia Augusta, then Jerome, Julian, Libanius, and Themistius. Previous research has often approached the story with the intention of identifying the original source of the anecdote.115 For this study this is not essential, as the primary purpose is to look at its uses and functions. Memorialization was a vital part of Classical culture.116 More specifically, the poet’s role in ensuring the undying fame of warriors was a common theme in Classical antiquity.117 As early as Homer’s works, eternal fame was considered the ultimate achievement of a hero’s career, surpassing all other things, including life itself, as was illustrated by Achilles in the Iliad.118 However, it was Homer’s commemoration of the warrior’s deeds that ensured Achilles’ lasting fame. In literature, Alexander was depicted as one who imitated great heroes, especially heroes like Achilles and Heracles. As stated in the first chapter of this book, the historical Alexander was most likely aware of the relation between deeds and fame. He employed Callisthenes as his court historian to write down the events of the expedition in a way that suited his own propaganda in the Persian
Alexander in relations of power and influence 151 campaign. He also had artists portray him as a semidivine hero equal to Heracles and Homeric characters.119 Memorialization is also related to the principles of Classical historiography since the main motivation for Classical historians like Herodotus and Thucydides was to write about great events and major individuals of the past to ensure that they would not be forgotten in the future. The tale I discuss here tells of Alexander’s visit to the tomb of Achilles in Troy during his Persian expedition. In some descriptions, Alexander hailed Achilles as lucky to have had such a great poet as Homer immortalize his deeds. The legend suggests that Alexander was worried about whether he would be praised by a similar poet.120 As far as we know, the first reference to the episode above comes from Cicero’s On behalf of the poet Archias, written as a defense of the Greek poet Archias, who had been Cicero’s childhood tutor and who had been denied Roman citizenship.121 In the work, written in 62 BC, Cicero based his defense of Archias on the latter’s status as a distinguished Roman poet. In the passage, the role of Alexander serves to symbolize an illustrious king who knew the value of literature and to demonstrate that the recognition of individuals of the past was proportional to the verses of the poets. The anecdote appears in a passage in which Cicero defends the value of Greek literature and its capacity to present Roman achievements to a wider audience. There Cicero describes how Alexander was accompanied by many poets and historians on his expeditions, but that he still yearned for a Homer and praised Achilles as lucky.122 The king knew the value of literature and especially the role first-class literature played in promoting and immortalizing one’s fame. Indeed, without the Iliad the undertakings of Achilles would have been unknown. Indirectly, Cicero was saying that just as Alexander understood the value of great poets, his Roman audience should understand the value of Archias’ works on Roman achievements. Cicero adds that Pompey also knew the value of literature, and thus not only befriended the Mitylenean historian Theophanes, but also granted him citizenship. Even ordinary soldiers could receive recognition: Theophanes wrote on the wars of Pompey and made the gallantry of the legionaries known, which was a benefit to the whole of the Roman nation. In the passage, Cicero describes Pompey as noster hic magnus (‘our own great man’) which can be interpreted as his way of flattering Pompey, who was known for his deliberate Alexander-fashioning.123 This is an important detail since Archias’ patron and the object of his verses had been the Roman general and politician Lucullus, Pompey’s opponent. It is probable that the whole prosecution against Archias was a political move against Lucullus. Cicero was aware of this adversary, and therefore selected Alexander’s story with the goal of making a desired impact on Pompey and/or Pompey’s supporters, who could not deny his Alexander-like relationship with Theophanes.124 Pointing out the relevance of Greek literature and its worth to a Roman audience was intended to prove Archias’ innocence and to elicit sympathy for the poet. Cicero tried to demonstrate the collective value that literature could have for the Romans, and simultaneously to justify Archias’ role in society as a producer
152 Alexander in relations of power and influence of that literature. In addition, Cicero was constructing his own public image as an orator and a statesman who was well acquainted with literature and knew its value. While Cicero proclaimed the value of Greek literature to the Roman world, other ancient authors stressed the importance of their literary topics with the Alexander anecdote. As mentioned above, in Classical thinking the value of the individual of the past was proportionate to the attention he received from great writers and poets. The interpretation of one’s place in the literary field could define the value of a literary topic. The Greek philosopher, statesman, and historian Arrian, in his history of Alexander, Anabasis, claimed that the king was right in yearning for a Homer. Arrian chose the anecdote to introduce his so-called second preface to the Anabasis.125 Arrian’s first and second prefaces have been analyzed at length in previous scholarship and compared with other prefaces in Classical historiography.126 The purpose of the second preface was to underline the importance of Arrian’s topic and to stress his abilities as a writer and his competence to present Alexander in a good light. Arrian writes that at Troy Alexander placed a wreath on the tomb of Achilles and that Hephaestion placed one on Patroclus’ tomb.127 There Alexander considered Achilles lucky for having Homer to preserve his fame and posterity. The episode was presented as λεγόμενα, which can mean that Arrian did not derive it from the works Ptolemy and Aristobulus.128 The anecdote was intended to show the value of Arrian’s own work in relation to other existing Alexander histories. In the foreword of the preface, Arrian states that Alexander was right to consider Achilles happy, since his own exploits had not yet been praised in a sufficiently worthy manner in either prose or verse.129 Arrian, belonging to the Second Sophistic movement, attempted to raise the value of his work in the critical estimation of the first-generation historians.130 The Alexander histories of the Hellenistic period were probably written in Koine Greek. However, in the Anabasis Arrian imitates the style and vocabulary of Thucydides and Herodotus. The latter’s works were highly respected in the Classical world and were regarded as model prose histories.131 Arrian’s second preface does not claim that his work was more reliable than that of previous writers, but sets out his task of writing a superior literary work in the style of past masters.132 Arrian wrote that Alexander performed greater deeds than any other man, Greek or barbarian, even though the deeds of the lesser men like Hiero, Gelon, and Theron and the Ten Thousand who marched against King Artaxerxes are more famous in literature.133 Arrian referred, for example, to Hiero and Theron as famous patrons of the lyric poets Pindar, Simonides, and Bacchylides, who wrote first-class poems about the glory of their patrons. The Ten Thousand Greek mercenaries received first-class prose treatment at the hands of Xenophon.134 In other words, Arrian was not stating that there was no literature at all on Alexander, but that the literature that did exist was not composed in a manner worthy of the king. The lack of writing on Alexander worthy of Herodotus, Thucydides, and Xenophon is the reason Arrian claims for writing his Anabasis. In this context
Alexander in relations of power and influence 153 Arrian argues that his own country, family, and offices are not unknown to men. Therefore, he is the right man to record the deeds of Alexander properly: “I do not consider myself unworthy of a foremost place among Greek writers, if indeed Alexander merits a foremost place among warriors.”135 As in Cicero’s text, in Arrian’s the king’s respect for first-class literature supports the literary project carried out in the present. Since Alexander already knew the value of the best poets, Arrian’s contemporary audience should also understand the importance of his high-quality writing. The episode serves as a rhetorical tool to demonstrate Arrian’s own abilities in relation to his subject. The reference to Alexander’s yearning for Homer is Arrian’s means of self-promotion. Achilles found Homer, and now Alexander has finally found the right man, a ‘new Homer’, in Arrian. After Arrian, the anecdote of Alexander at the tomb of Achilles was used in the literature of Late Antiquity. In the anonymous Historia Augusta and Jerome’s hagiographical work entitled the Life of St. Hilarion, the topic is exploited in the prefaces in a similar way to that in Arrian. In the Historia Augusta, composed sometime in late fourth or early fifth century, the anecdote appears in the account on the Life of Probus (276/7–282).136 The writer of the Historia Augusta starts the passage dealing with the reign of Emperor Probus with the statement that he has heard from Sallust, Marcus Cato, and Gellius that “all the virtues of all men are as great as they have been made to appear by the genius of those who related their deeds.”137 The writer remarks that Alexander himself agreed with this statement and thus that at the tomb of Achilles, the king believed Achilles would have been happy to have been celebrated by Homer. The Historia Augusta adds that the king was a man of genius (ingenium) and hints that Alexander deserved poets like Homer to proclaim his deeds.138 The writer of the Historia Augusta states that an individual’s greatness is directly dependent on the attention he receives in the works of historians: therefore, it was a lack of historians which caused Emperor Probus to remain almost unknown to his contemporaries. Probus’ rule restored security to the east, the west, the south, and the north, yet there were no proper treatments of his reign, which the writer decries as shameful. The value of his narrative is therefore to correct this regrettable gap in the literature. The writer refers to his extensive task of recording the reigns of previous emperors and remarks: “No fluency or elegance of style can I promise, but only the record of their deeds, which I will not suffer to die.”139 Unlike Arrian, the writer declares that the literary style of his work is secondary in importance to the record itself. According to him, it is of greatest importance to have an account of the accomplishments of emperors like Probus and so he is providing something that is lamentably missing. Jerome presented the anecdote in the opening words of the Life of St. Hilarion. The work was written as a biography of Hilarion, the anchorite, in the late 380s or early 390s and was dedicated to the ascetic Roman woman Asella.140 In the preface, Jerome claims to offer a first-class treatment of the life of Hilarion, a work much better than those previously composed.141 Jerome raises himself and his subject above even Homer and Achilles. According to Jerome, there are men
154 Alexander in relations of power and influence of genius who have praised the virtue and great deeds of their subjects. Jerome reminds his readers of Alexander, who described Homer as a great herald (praeconium meritorum) of Achilles’ worth.142 However, Jerome adds that he was forced to tell the story of a man so renowned (Hilarion) that even Homer would either envy his theme or realize it greater than his literary objects. For Jerome, the reference naturally links his biography to Classical literature, starting with Homer himself. With the help of the anecdote, Jerome places himself and his topic on a par with the illustrious writers and heroes of old. The story of Alexander yearning for Homer could be intended to flatter the audience and construct the desired self-presentation. In The heroic deeds of Constantius, Julian exclaimed: “For your [Emperor Constantius] triumphs really call for the trumpet of Homer himself, far more than did the achievements of the Macedonian.”143 The reference parallels the writer himself with Homer and praises the achievements of the emperor as greater than those of Alexander. A couple of years later, it was Julian’s turn to be compared to the Macedonian king. In a letter to Julian, written in 358, Libanius mentions that he has heard the news that his addressee defeated the barbarians (the Germanic tribe of the Alamanni) and even wrote a commentary on the events of the battle of Strasbourg (357). Subsequently, Libanius reminds his addressee that Achilles needed Homer to record his achievements, and that Alexander required the work of many poets to do so, but that Julian needed no one other than himself.144 Julian had been Libanius’ pupil and in making this reference Libanius was not only encouraging his pupil to continue his literary interests, but was attempting to strengthen his relationship with the Caesar, who would probably attain greater power in the future. In raising Julian above Achilles and Alexander, Libanius not only praises his former pupil but indirectly emphasizes his own role as his teacher. Another use of the Alexander anecdote intending to flatter an Imperial addressee comes from Themistius’ Oration addressed to Theodosius.145 In the last passage of the speech, the orator states that Alexander considered Achilles fortunate to be immortalized by Homer, but that he himself can consider himself lucky because he can directly address his speech to the emperor.146 The theme of the poet’s crucial role in immortalizing a warrior’s fame first appeared in the Homeric epics. Homer’s status in the literary culture of Classical antiquity was undisputed. In making reference to Classical literature, writers demonstrated their awareness of the existing tradition, and therefore proved their own literary capacity. By referring to Alexander’s yearning for poets like Homer, authors highlighted the importance of literature in their contemporary societies. Essentially, they state that even kings and emperors need high-quality writers to record their deeds under their rule, otherwise they might not become great in posterity. With the use of the anecdote, writers defended their status as literary professionals and keepers of the Classical tradition. The lesson to be derived from the Alexander anecdote was that the king understood the value of the most respected literature, and that a Roman audience should understand it, too. The anecdote also served to stress the importance of quality and style in a literary work. The image of the king praising Homer also assisted the authors in their self-promotion. An
Alexander in relations of power and influence 155 author who compared himself to Homer promoted his own status as a master of the Classical tradition. As Alexander praised the illustrious poet, so should the Roman audience appreciate its contemporary writers of great skill (Cicero, Arrian, the anonymous author of the Historia Augusta, and Jerome). The story of the Macedonian king yearning for a Homer had become a recurrent theme and it was assumed that all knew it.147 The anecdote served similar literary functions from the time of Ciceronian Rome until the Empire of the late fourth century. *** The past played an important role in the social networks that the Roman elite maintained. The chosen historical exemplum (presented as a model for the present) constructed a relationship between the author and his audience. For the members of the upper classes, the exemplary past was not only a way of flattering a reader but also a means of winning the favor of their friends and masters. Although we can speak of a convention that became popular in literary discourse, we cannot argue that it was a practice devoid of personal interests. The flexibility of historical examples and imitatio Alexandri served the writers’ personal interests and agendas. It appears that even though sociopolitical milieus changed between the time of the Early Empire and Late Antiquity, Alexander’s role as a literary figure did not. Alexander seemingly became an even more popular reference-point in Late Antiquity, especially, when artists, poets, and orators sought the favor of their masters. From the storehouse of historical examples, authors chose stories that suited their interests. The presentation of Alexander as an illustrious patron of the arts, as a friend, and as an individual interested in literature, mattered not only for the preservation of the ‘great deeds of the past’, as was the case in the prefaces of Herodotus’ and Thucydides’ texts, but also functioned as lessons intended to encourage communication and interaction within the Roman upper classes. These lessons related to the aims and hopes of those writers who represented an inferior social class to that of their addressees. In the case of the passages I have discussed here, since a single writer could use both the ‘bad’ and the ‘good’ Alexander in a single literary composition, the authors’ opinions of Alexander or his character are not in question. In other words, these writers were not offering judgments or assessments of Alexander, but were appealing to their masters by referring to the Classical tradition. Writers made such parallels because they knew that the life of Alexander was an object of admiration and imitation. Imitatio Alexandri can be qualified as a cultural phenomenon linked to the great popularity and admiration that the popular and esteemed Macedonian king had in the Greco-Roman world. Hellenistic kings, Roman generals, statesmen, and emperors often showed an eagerness to identify with the king, and admired his accomplishments and indisputable fame. Writers of the Early and Later Empire were aware of this phenomenon and exploited imitatio Alexandri as a motivating rhetorical tool in the present. Alexander as a model for the audience and the lessons of the past were attached to this imitatio and to the shared cultural milieu they represented. In addition, the portrait of the
156 Alexander in relations of power and influence king himself was flexible, and could provide many exemplary personae, including the loyal friend, the patron of the liberal arts, and the civilized philosopher – king. The writers’ strategy was to provide flattering analogies and comparisons. The glorification of the relationship between the author and his high-ranking addressee was part of the upper-class culture in which the present was depicted as a direct continuation of the past. The references themselves functioned above all as idealizing portraits of social relationships in the present: they were a way of offering a flattering image of the patron (emperor, high official) and of providing a self-image of the author. In other words, it was a deliberate strategy designed to guide the addressee’s thoughts and actions. The literary practice of writing about the images of Alexander and the persons associated with him was disguised as a form of teaching through the models of the past and re-creating imagined realities in the present. As we have seen in this chapter, in these passages the writers examined here were more interested in improving their own status in the eyes of their addressees than in promoting philosophical doctrines, political views, or religious opinions, or, perhaps most relevant to the modern scholarship on these writers, in extending the knowledge of historical events. On this basis, we can proceed to study the uses of history in Christian rhetoric and its ideological contexts.
Notes 1 For important thoughts on Roman patronship, see Saller 1982. In the literature of the Early Empire, patronus was used in a general sense as an ‘influential protector’. The word cliens was not referred to freely by authors for any member of an exchange relationship of inferior status. The word amicus was ambiguous and included both socially equal and unequal individuals. Saller 1982, 8–11. See also Saller 1989, 49–61. For amicitia in antiquity and the Middle Ages, see also Mustakallio & Krötzl 2010. 2 Konstan 2007, 345. See also Nauta 2002, 14–18. 3 Saller 1982, 12. Konstan 1997 argued that friendship in the Classical world was not a matter of obligation but of mutual affection. This view has been rejected by some scholars: cf. Peachin 2001. For a recent treatment of Roman friendship, see Williams 2012. 4 For patronage see Saller 1982. For friendship see Konstan 1997, Williams 2012. 5 Val. Max. 8.11.ext.2; Plin. HN 7.125; Plut. Alex. 4.1; Arr. an. 1.16.4; Apul. Flo. 7.15–25. 6 Horace calls him poeta pessimus ‘the worst poet’. Hor. Ars P. 5.357. According to Curtius, Choerilus wrote a poem in which Alexander appeared as Achilles: cf. Curt. 8.5.8. 7 Hall 1999, 308–309. 8 Trans. D. R. Shackleton Bailey. Cic. Fam. 5.12.6: me a te potissimum ornari celebrarique velle. 9 Trans. D. R. Shackleton Bailey. Ibid. 5.12.7: neque enim Alexander ille gratiae causa ab Apelle potissimum pingi et a Lysippo fingi volebat, sed quod illorum artem cum ipsis tum etiam sibi gloriae fore putabat. 10 Spencer 2002, 127. 11 For the Hellenistic rulers as royal patrons and the reasons why they supported art and philosophy in their courts, see Strootman 2010, 33–37. 12 For patronal ideology in Imperial Rome, see Saller 1982, 41–62. For Augustan cultural policy and contemporary literature that the Emperor promoted, see Galinsky 1998, 91–121, 244–288.
Alexander in relations of power and influence 157 13 Their receipt of payment distinguishes them from senators, who did not receive pay. Masterson 2004, 391–392; Purcell 1983, 143, 156. 14 Horace’s Secular hymn was presented at the Secular Games (Ludi Saeculares). Cf. Rantala 2012, 238. 15 Lowrie 2007, 78, 85–87. Clarke argued that Horace genuinely admired Augustus (Clarke 1978, 53). The strongest evidence for the relationship between Augustus and Horace derives from Suetonius’ life of Horace and from Horace’s poetry. Lowrie 2007 mainly handles how Horace writes about Augustus in his works. 16 Hor. Epist. 2.1.230. 17 Hor. Epist. 2.1.225. 18 Hor. Epist. 2.1.232–234. 19 In Apul. Flo. 7.15–25 the supposed edict of Alexander supports the argument that philosophy should also be protected by some edict. Apuleius writes that, as in the case of Apelles and Lysippus, only the best philosophers should be allowed to write about philosophy. In Val. Max. 8.11.ext.2 the edict stresses how much Alexander valued the liberal arts (artes). The story symbolizes the useful developments that the arts can bring to society. 20 Hor. Epist. 2.1.235–244. 21 In the literary tradition, Augustus was known for his literary interests: cf. Suet. Aug. 89.3. 22 Eder 2005, 13–17; Shotter 1991, 90. 23 Deinocrates, sometimes named Dinochares or Cheirocrates, Stasicrates, or Hermocrates, was one of the most famous and legendary architects of the Classical world. There are several passages that refer to him. For some of the passages, see esp. McEwen 2003, 119–120. Stewart sometimes uses Stasicrates as his real name. Stewart 1993, 28–29. 24 For the dating of the work, see McEwen 2003, 1 (n. 2). Vitruvius’ audience probably included both experts and non-experts: cf. Masterson 2004, 390 (n. 6). 25 Masterson 2004, 389. Architecture and medicine were ways of earning a wage, and were respected more than other paid employment. Cf. Cic. De off. 1.150–151. 26 Vitr. De arch. 2.pref.1. McEwen approaches the passage from the perspective of the symbolic meaning of Hercules in Augustan propaganda. McEwen 2003, 116–184. 27 Cf. Plin. HN 5.62; Alex. Rom. 1.31, which give Rhodes. 28 We know this anecdote from several authors. Plut. Alex. 72.3–4; Plut. Mor. De Alex. Fort. 335c – f; Strab. 14.1.23. In some of the texts, the architect is not named: cf. Luc. Hist. conscr. 12.15–21; Luc. Pro imag. 12. 29 In Lucian’s Essays in portraiture defended, the project is depicted as monstrous and the king’s rejection of the plan receives praise. Luc. Pro imag. 9.1–15. In the same way, in Lucian’s How to write history, the architect is called a flatterer whom the king did not employ after the proposal. Luc. Hist. conscr. 12.21. 30 Vitr. De arch. 2.pref.3. 31 The king is portrayed as the one who recognized the advantageous site in Egypt where he decided to build Alexandria, and commanded Deinocrates to establish the city. 32 Trans. Frank Granger. Vitr. De arch. 2.pref. 4: ita Dinocrates a facie dignitateque corporis commendatus ad eam nobilitatem pervenit. mihi autem, imperator, staturam non tribuit natura, faciem deformavit aetas, valetudo detraxit vires. itaque quoniam ab his praesidiis sum desertus, per auxilia scientiae scriptaque, ut spero, perveniam ad commendationem. 33 Cf. Vit. De arch. 1.pref.2. 34 Masterson 2004, 394–395 suggests that in this passage we can also see traces of Vitruvius’ self-identification with philosophers. 35 McEwen 2003, 15–16. 36 For the figure of Alexander in the portraits of Augustus, see Pollini 2012, 166–203. For Alexander’s dominance in the Forum of Augustus, see Plin. HN 34.48, 35.93–94. 37 In chapter 2 I have explored the way comparisons between Alexander and his Roman counterparts stressed certain political ideas and constructed sociocultural identities.
158 Alexander in relations of power and influence 38 The work had to be written before the death of Theodosius II on July 28, 450, but probably not long after 443. On the dating of Sozomen’s Church history, see Rouché 1987, 130–132. The Church history itself was planned as a continuation of Eusebius’ histories. 39 Sozom. Hist. eccl. pref. 1.12–13. 40 Trans. Chester D. Hartranft. Sozom. Hist. eccl. pref. 1.13–15: πάντων δὲ τῶν στρατιωτῶν πρὸς τὴν φιάλην κεχηνότων καὶ μακαριούντων ὃς πίεται, πάλιν αὐτῷ, ὦ γενναῖε, τὸ ποτὸν ἀπέδωκας καὶ ὅπῃ φίλον αὐτῷ κεχρῆσθαι ἐκέλευσας. ὥστε μοι δοκεῖ εἰκότως ταῖς σαῖς ἀρεταῖς νενικῆσθαι καὶ Ἀλέξανδρον τὸν Φιλίππου· ᾧ λέγεται παρὰ τῶν τὰ ἐκείνου θαυμαζόντων δι‘ ἀνύδρου τόπου βαδίζοντι μετὰ τῶν Μακεδόνων ἐπιμελῆ στρατιώτην ὕδωρ εὑρόντα ἀρύσασθαι καὶ προσκομίσαι· τὸν δὲ μὴ πιεῖν, ἀλλ’ ἐκχέαι τὸ πόμα. 41 For Alexander historians, the episode is included with comments of praise, Arrian hailing it as a ‘noble deed’. Arr. an. 4.26.1–3; Curt. 7.4.19. Arrian states that his sources gave different versions of the place where it occurred. 42 The 48th Oration is the longest in the Himerian corpus. For the dating and identification of the figures, see Penella 2007, 209–210. For the political career of Hermogenes, see also Barnes 1987, 218–220. 43 Trans. Robert J. Penella. Him. Or. 48.14: σὲ δέ τις τοῖς Ἕλλησιν ἐκτυπωσάμενος πῶς οὐκ ἂν εἰκότως μέγα κατὰ τῶν ἄλλων δημιουργῶν ἐφρόνησεν, ἅτε φιλόσοφόν τε ὁμοῦ καὶ στρατηγὸν μιμησάμενος; 44 In Plutarch’s essay On the fortune and the virtue of Alexander the king is portrayed as a philosopher in arms. See pages 94–96. 45 Him. Or. 48.34. 46 See Ausonius’ 16th epistle. For Ausonius’ letters, see Green 1980. 47 Green 1980, 206–207. 48 Trans. Evelyn White. Auson. Epist. 12: ego imitatus sim vesaniam Choerili tu ignoscas magnanimitate Alexandri. 49 Cf. Auson. Biss. 9, addressed to Paulus, friend of Ausonius. In the letter Ausonius writes that Paulus has surpassed Alexander’s persistence when the king untied the Gordian knot, and consulted the Pythia in Delphi, since Paulus has encouraged him to publish his works. 50 Haase, 1991, 4–7. 51 Ibid. 11–114. For the propaganda of Theoderic and the Goths, see Arnold 2008. 52 Trans. Barbara S. Haase. Ennod. Pan. Theod. 17.79: Pellaeus doctor praeconiorum suorum summam Choerili voluit constare beneficio ne fallendi votum multitudine deprehenderet et fieret testis inpudentia qui adsciscebatur in adstipulatione victoriae. nihil detraho senioribus, quos praecipuos habuisset antiquitas, nisi Romani nominis erectio te dedisset. 53 Arnold 2008, 12. 54 For the material and honorary benefits that both poets and their patrons could receive for their relationship in the Early Roman Empire, see Clarke 1978, 46–48. 55 According to the story, Alexander becomes suddenly seriously ill after jumping into the River Cydnus. Alexander’s doctor, Philip, a friend and colleague, prepares medicine and gives it to the king. At the same time, Alexander receives a letter from Parmenion, in which he is warned about a plot by Philip, who has been bribed by Darius. Despite this potential danger, Alexander drinks the medicine without hesitation. Curt. 3.6.1–17; Diod. 17.31.4–6; Arr. an. 2.4.8–11; Plut. Alex. 19.4–10; Just. 11.8.3–6. 56 After Alexander had captured the camp of Darius, he went to speak to his relatives. Darius’ mother knelt before Hephaestion because the latter was more impressive in height and appearance than the king. Darius’ mother was terrified when she noticed that she had made a mistake. Alexander responded that she had no reason to get upset, since ‘he [Hephaestion] is Alexander too’. Curt. 3.12.16–17; Diod. 17.37.5–6 and
Alexander in relations of power and influence 159
57
58 59
60 61 62 63
64
65 66
67
68 69 70
71 72 73
114.2; Arr. an. 2.12.6–7; Val. Max. 4.7.ext.2; Itin. Alex. 15.37. Arrian leaves it open whether the incident really took place or not. The nature of friendship in antiquity is a controversial matter among scholars. Konstan 1997 has argued that friendship was linked to mutual affection, while many scholars have rejected this idea. They argue that the formal nature of friendship in the Classical world was a matter of service: cf. Konstan 2007, 345–346. Peachin 2001 also argued that friendship was not a matter of obligation but of mutual affection. For a recent treatment of Roman friendship, see Williams 2012. Trans. P. A. Brunt. Arr. an. 2.4.11: Φιλίππῳ δὲ ἐπιδεῖξαι, ὅτι πιστός ἐστιν αὐτῷ φίλος, καὶ τοῖς ἄλλοις δὲ τοῖς ἀμφ᾿ αὐτὸν, ὅτι αὐτοῖς τε τοῖς φίλοις βέβαιος εἰς τὸ ἀνύποπτον τυγχάνει ὢν καὶ πρὸς τὸ ἀποθανεῖν ἐρρωμένος. Trans. C. Bradford Welles. Diod. 17.31.6: τὸν ἰατρὸν τιμήσας μεγαλοπρεπῶς κατέταξεν αὐτὸν εἰς τοὺς εὐνουστάτους τῶν φίλων. Curtius and Justin have not included the friendship theme in their passages. Justin writes that for the king it was safer to trust his doctor than to face certain death. Just. 11.8.6. Curt. 3.12.16–17; Diod. 17.37.5–6 and 114.2. Arr. an. 2.12.6–7. Val. Max. 3.8.ext.6, 4.7.ext.2. Trans. Henry John Walker. Val. Max. 4.7.ext.2b: quod privatim quoque merito veneror, clarissimi ac disertissimi viri promptissimam erga me benivolentiam expertus. nec metuo ne parum conveniat mihi Pompeium meum instar esse Alexandri, cum illi Hephaestio suus alter fuerit Alexander. Spencer 2010 sees the passage in a contrasting way. She claims that Valerius does not call Pompey a friend (amicus), nor does he depict their relationship as amicitia. According to Spencer, Valerius illustrated their personal bond with parental or genealogical imagery. Spencer 2010, 187–189. However, the account concludes with the anecdotes dealing with friendship (amicitia). Therefore, I would suggest that Valerius uses parental and friendship analogies as a mean to idealize his relationship with Pompey. Williams 2012, 13 approaches the passage as I do, and suggests that Valerius fashioned his friendship with Pompey by using the friendship of Alexander and Hephaestion as a model. Information on Sextus Pompey in Val. Max. 2.6.8. Trans. Henry John Walker. Val. Max. 4.7.ext.2b: cuius in animo velut in parentum amantissimorum pectore laetior vitae meae status viguit, tristior acquievit, a quo omnium commodorum incrementa ultro oblata cepi, per quem tutior adversus casus steti, qui studia nostra ductu et auspiciis suis lucidiora et alacriora reddidit. In the following passage, Valerius writes about certain people who were gratified, out of envy, when he lost his friend Pompey. According to Valerius’s rhetoric, it was his ‘happiness’ that tormented them because he himself had shared ‘his influence’, such as it was, with anyone who wanted to make use of it. Valerius states that the best avenger of the envy and arrogance directed at him by his opponents is the uncertainty of the human condition. Their mockery will end once they also experience misfortunes. Cf. Saller 1982, 12. These letters are Basil’s 272th and 94th. Trans. J. Deferrari. Basil. Epist. 2.272: καὶ τοῦ λοιποῦ πάσης διαβολῆς ὑψηλοτέραν ποιοῦ τὴν ἐμὴν περὶ σὲ διάθεσιν, τὸν Ἀλέξανδρον μιμούμενος, ὅς, ἐπιστολὴν κατὰ τοῦ ἰατροῦ δεξάμενος ὡς ἐπιβουλεύοντος, ἐπειδὴ ἔτυχεν ἐν αὐτῷ τῷ καιρῷ φάρμακον λαβὼν ὥστε πιεῖν, τοσοῦτον ἀπέσχε πιστεῦσαι τῷ διαβάλλοντι, ὥστε ὁμοῦ τε τὴν ἐπιστολὴν ἀνεγίνωσκε, καὶ τὸ φάρμακον ἔπινεν. Basil. Epist. 2.94. We know this anecdote from Plutarch. Here Basil may even quote Plut. Alex. 42.2. In the letter to Athanasius (Basil. Epist. 1.24) Basil writes that he will follow the example of Alexander, and will keep one ear clear for the accused.
160 Alexander in relations of power and influence 74 Gregory’s 8th letter to Antiochus from the Pasquali collection. Silvas suggests a relatively late dating for the letter, from the mid-380s onwards. Silvas 2007, 144. For recommendation letters in antiquity, see Stowers 1986, 153–165. 75 Silvas 2006, 144. 76 Greg. Nyss. Epist. 8.1.5: εἰπεῖν τὸν θησαυρὸν ἐν τοῖς φίλοις ἔχειν. For the saying in the other writers, see also Ammian. Marc. 25.4.15; Simplic. Comm. in Epictet. enchir. 88.19. 77 Greg. Nyss. Epist. 8.3–4. 78 In Chapter 2, I discuss the panegyrics of the Later Empire from the angle of using historical exempla in political rhetoric. 79 Julian’s first Panegyric, along with Themistius’ Orations to Valens (the 11th) and Theodosius (the 19th). 80 For the dating of the Panegyric, see Tougher 2012, 21–22. 81 The work was written after the Persian War and before Julian went to Gaul in 355. At the beginning of his work, Julian states: “To sing praises of your valor and achievements, to recount your campaigns, etc.” These purposes are of course commonplace in panegyrics. 82 Jul. Or. 1.41b – c. The statement refers implicitly to the quarrels of Alexander and Philip as we know the tale from Plutarch on: cf. Plut. Alex. 9.3–6. 83 Jul. Or. 1.42d, 43a – b. 84 Trans. Wilmer Wright. Ibid. 1.43a – c: ἄξιον δωρεῶν μεμνῆσθαι, ἐλευθέριόν σε καὶ μεγαλόδωρον βασιλέα προσαγορεύοντα . . . μηδεὶς πώποτε πλὴν Ἀλεξάνδρου τοῦ Φιλίππου τοσαῦτα βασιλεὺς τοῖς αὑτοῦ φίλοις διανέμων ὤφθη. 85 For the generosity of the king in the Alexander literature, see Plut. Alex. 38.1–7. 86 Jul. Or. 1.45b – d. 87 Ibid. 1.45d. 88 Ibid. 1.46a. 89 Ibid. 1.46b. 90 The reference to ‘public instances’ could refer to Alexander’s conduct at Philip’s wedding celebration. After attacking Attalus, Alexander also publicly mocked his drunken father. Plut. Alex. 9.1–5. Also, the anecdote could refer to the notorious drinking party in Maracanda. In the tradition, Alexander started to praise his own qualities and achievements at the expense of Philip. Curt. 8.1.22–26. 91 We know that the Itinerarium Alexandri was dedicated to Constantius and that the Latin translation of the Alexander Romance was probably written during the reign of Constantius. For the possible connection between Alexander and Constantius, see Lane Fox 1997. 92 Blockley 1972, 448–449. 93 Blockley 1972, 452. 94 A few years later, after Julian’s rebellion, Constantius made the decision to give the succession to Julian before his death to prevent a civil war. 95 For a German translation of Themistius’s Orations (1–19), see Leppin and Portmann 1998. Among the English translations, see Heather and Moncur 2001, which does not include all the public orations. In Chapter 2, on pages 00 I also discuss some of the Orations of Themistius. 96 Themistius’ 11th Oration. 97 The Oration took place at Antioch in 373/374. It was held to celebrate the emperor’s decennalia in 384. Vanderspoel 1995, 67–68, 177, 208–213. 98 Vanderspoel 1995, 178. 99 Them. Or. 11.152d – 153c. 100 Them. Or. 11.153c. 101 See Leppin and Portmann 1998, 212 (n. 45). Another interpretation of the passage would be that Themistius referred to himself. However, this seems unlikely given the context of the reference.
Alexander in relations of power and influence 161 102 This theme occurs in Themistius’ 8th, 9th, and 16th Orations. 103 In the reign of Julian, Themistius did not progress in rank, but he did not lose his former status, either. Vanderspoel 1995, 123–124. 104 During the reign of Constantius II, he was nominated as the princeps senatus in 357 and later in 384 under Theodosius’ reign he became the prefect of Constantinople. Vanderspoel 1995, 106–107, 113, 208–209. On the difference between these two posts, see Vanderspoel 1995, 68. The role of philosophy in Themistius’ career is central for an understanding of his status and writings: see Vanderspoel 1995, 11–13. 105 Heather’s English translation of Themistius’ 8th Oration is published in the volume The Goths in the fourth century. On the date and the central themes of the speech, see Heather 1991, 12–13. The motive for the speech was the festival for the Quinqueannalia and Themistius says he was present on that festive occasion. 106 Them. Or. 8.106d – 107. 107 Trans. Peter Heather. Them. Or. 8.120a: τοιγαροῦν ἐξ ἱερῶν γάμων καὶ εὐαγῶν καὶ τὸ βλάστημα ἱερώτατον, ὁ ἀγαπητός, ὁ πολύευκτος, ὃν ἐγὼ ποιησαίμην Ἀλέξανδρον καὶ θρέμμα αὖθις τοιοῦτον αὐχήσειε φιλοσοφία. 108 That is the 9th Oration. The date of the composition was 369/370. The place was Marcianopolis. Vanderspoel sees the primary motive of the speech as suggesting the nomination of a second emperor to the Eastern emperor and asking for an Imperial presence in Constantinople. Vanderspoel 1995, 172. 109 Them. Or. 9.124a. 110 In the Oration, he reminds the audience that it is vital to follow the example of these men, not just to a single opinion but to make the truth the goal and to yearn to hear more. Ibid. 9.5. 111 The speech was probably delivered on January 1, 383, when Saturninus took office, and when the Senate of Constantinople and the emperor Theodosius with his court officials were present. Heather 2001, 255–264. 112 Trans. Peter Heather. Them. Or. 16.204c: προχειρίσασθαι τὸν ἀγαπητὸν λαμπτῆρα τῆς οἰκουμένης, ὃν ἐγὼ ποιήσαιμι Ἀλέξανδρον καὶ θρέμμα αὖθις αὐχήσειε τοιοῦτον φιλοσοφία. 113 Symmachus’ letter to Ausonius (Symm. Ep. 1.20), written in 379, contrasts the latter’s relationship with Gratian to Alexander’s relationship with Aristotle. In the letter, Symmachus explains the reasons why he cannot attend the inaugural ceremonies for Ausonius’ consulship and praises both Ausonius’ ‘long experience in the liberal arts’ and Gratian’s willingness to give respect to teachers and educated men. Symmachus reminds his readers that Alexander (‘that great man’, magnum illum) did not honor Aristotle (‘the Stagirite’) with a political post. The reference favorably compares the relationship of Gratian with Ausonius to the illustrious figures of history. For a translation and discussion of the letter, see Salzman 2012, 55–58. 114 These works were written to clarify Aristotle’s meaning and to aid memorization. Heather 2001, 1–3. For these writings, see also Vanderspoel 1995, 225–229. 115 For example, Cameron produced an in-depth handling of the question whether the writer of the Historia Augusta and Jerome derived their Alexander anecdote from Cicero, or copied it from elsewhere. See Cameron 2013, 761–770. In his analysis, there are references to previous interpretations of the originality of the Alexander source. According to Cameron, the writer of the Historia Augusta copied Cicero and Jerome copied the writer of the Historia Augusta. Fisher 1982, 194–200, approaches the anecdote from the angle of how the alleged Latin original was translated into Greek by Jerome. 116 Memory (memoria) was an important cultural concept in the ancient world: cf. Gowing 2005, 1–2; Larsson Lovén 2011, 128–129. 117 Pitcher 2009, 72–74. 118 Hom. Il. 9.189, 413. The central theme of Homer’s Iliad and Odyssey is achieving immortality through fame; see King 2009, 7–8.
162 Alexander in relations of power and influence 119 For the work of Callisthenes, see Pearson 1960, 22–49; Cartledge 2004, 247–249. For Alexander as the first ruler in the Greek world to understand and exploit the propagandistic powers of official portraits, see Mihalopoulos 2009, 275–293. 120 The anecdote probably occurred in the early Hellenistic works. Alexander as the ‘second Achilles’ inspired by Homer and his Trojan heroes is an oft-appearing theme. Most likely, it originated from the panhellenic propaganda that the king promoted in the early stages of the Persian expedition. Flower 2000, 107–108. For Alexander’s visit to Troy, see Erskine 2001, 226–234. For the image of Alexander as an enthusiast for Homer, see pages 94–96. 121 Cicero also briefly refers to the anecdote in his letter to Lucceius. He writes that he has already achieved the acclamation (praeconium) that Alexander said was laid upon Achilles by Homer (Cic. Fam. 5.12.7). As a rhetorical trick, Cicero claims that he had already received weighty testimony (grave testimonium) from illustrious and great men. For my thoughts on the passage, see pages 135–136. 122 Cic. Arch. 24.1–5. 123 Ibid. 24.5–10. For Pompey’s Alexander-fashioning, see Michel 1967, 35–66; Spencer 2009, 253–256. 124 For the work of Theophanes of Mytilene glorifying Pompey, see Franklin 2003, 106–108. 125 In the scholarship on the Anabasis, the two prefaces are distinguished as Arr. an. 1.1.1 and Arr. an. 1.12.1–5. 126 There are various analyses of these two prefaces and their relation to Arrian’s work and its structure as a whole, the author’s intentions, and his source methods. Examples include Bosworth 1980, 16–34, 43–44, 104–107; Stadter 1980, 60–76. For analysis of the second preface of Arrian’s Anabasis, see also Moles 1985; Gray 1990; Burliga 2013, 61–73. 127 Arr. an. 1.12.2. 128 In the first preface, Arrian writes that he considers Ptolemy and Aristobulus the most trustworthy historians since they were eyewitnesses to the events. The other traditions (which he does not name) were included because they were interesting, but not necessarily truthful. Arr. an. 1.1.2–3. However, there are some passages in Arrian where he uses the formula λέγουσιν but quotes Ptolemy and Aristobulus. Bosworth 1980, 20. 129 Arr. an. 1.12.2. 130 For Atticism in the Second Sophistic, see Whitmarsh 2005, 41–56. 131 Bosworth calls Arrian’s prose an artificial creation, meaning that Arrian adopted a style that did not come naturally to him. There is a strong trend towards archaism in the Anabasis. In its vocabulary, there is an even greater imitation of Herodotus than of Thucydides. For Arrian’s style in the Anabasis, see Bosworth 1980, 34–36. 132 Stadter emphasizes that Arrian is making a claim to reliability here, whereas Bosworth emphasizes Arrian’s claim to superior style. See Stadter 1980, 62–63; Bosworth 1980, 104. 133 Arr. an. 1.12.2–4. 134 Bosworth 1980, 105. 135 Trans. Pamela Mensch. Arr. an. 1.12.5: καὶ ἐπὶ τῷδε οὐκ ἀπαξιῶ ἐμαυτὸν τῶν πρώτων ἐν τῇ φωνῇ τῇ Ἑλλάδι, εἴπερ οὖν καὶ Ἀλέξανδρον τῶν ἐν τοῖς ὅπλοις. 136 The dating of the Historia Augusta is challenging. As a general assumption Birley proposes 395–405 (Birley 2003, 139–140, 144). Cameron 2013, 772–773 suggests that the Life of Probus (written by the author of the Historia Augusta) was composed between 361 and 385/386. Probus was an active warrior-emperor (276/7–282) who expelled Alamannic and Frankish invaders. For the discussion of the sources used by the author of the Historia Augusta, see Rohrbacher 2013. 137 Trans. David Magie. Hist. Aug. Prob. 1.1: omnes omnium virtutes tantas esse quantas videri eas voluerint eorum ingenia qui unius cuiusque facta descripserint. 138 Ibid. 1.2.
Alexander in relations of power and influence 163 139 Trans. David Magie. Ibid. 6: neque ego nunc facultatem eloquentiamque polliceor sed res gestas, quas perire non patior. 140 For the dedication of the work, see Harvey 2005. For a recent discussion on the dating of Jerome’s work, see Cameron 2013, 770–772. Cameron rejects the general view that the Vita Hilarionis was written ca. 390, and suggests that it was composed in 385/386. 141 In the preface, Jerome mentions Epiphanius’ ‘brief encomium of Hilarion’ as such. Harvey 2005, 296. 142 Jer. Vita Hil. pref. 9–11. 143 Trans. Wilmer Cave Wright. Jul. Or. 2.55b: δεῖται γὰρ ἀληθῶς τῆς Ὁμηρικῆς σάλπιγγος τὰ κατορθώματα, καὶ πολὺ πλέον ἢ τὰ τοῦ Μακεδόνος ἔργα. 144 Lib. Epist. 38.6: ὄντως ῥήτορά τε εἶναι καὶ στρατηγόν. Ἀχιλλεῖ μὲν γὰρ Ὁμήρου ἔδει καὶ Ἀλεξάνδρῳ πολλῶν Τιτήνων τρόπαια δὲ τὰ σὰ μνήμης τεύξεται τῇ τοῦ στήσαντος φωνῇ. In the Loeb translation A. F. Norman follows the Greek edition that gives ‘many Titans’ (Τιτᾶνας). However, some editions give ἐπαινετῶν or τοιούτων. It seems that ‘such’ or ‘such xxx as this’ (τοιούτων) would be the better choice, since Libanius first writes that Achilles required Homer. This phrase would refer to the anecdote already appearing in the works of Cicero and Arrian. 145 Themistius’ 19th Oration. 146 Them. Or. 19.233b. 147 Cf. Sid. Apoll. Epist. 3.12.6, where Sidonius Apollinaris (ca. 430–489) writes that he and his addressee have been taught about the great Alexander making his offering to the shade of Achilles, which speaks to the popularity and wide circulation of the stories of Alexander at the tomb of Achilles. A slightly modified version of the anecdote appears also in the Alexander Romance. Cf. Alex. Rom. 1.42.
5
Alexander in Christian apologia
In the previous three chapters, I have looked at the ideological aspects of using history in historical and moral philosophical writings to gain personal benefit and authority. In this chapter, I focus on religion. I explore the role Alexander played in the argumentative strategy for the many Christian and the few Jewish authors writing from the second century to the fifth and sixth centuries. I have previously analyzed some passages by Christian and Jewish writers, but here I concentrate on these writers as a group proclaiming the superiority of Christian (or Jewish) culture and religion.1 The historical context was the sociocultural aim of the Christian writers to construct and promote their status in the Roman world. In the fourth century Christianity was transformed from what many regarded as a harmful superstitio into the vera religio (‘true religion’ as defined by Augustine), and the political developments that took place under Constantine (306–337) and Theodosius (379–395), which led to the creation of the state church, are vital for understanding the passages analyzed in this chapter.2 The main question here is how Christian interpretations of history, traditional religion, and philosophy were created and promoted with the help of historical figures like Alexander. Did the writers of Christian apologetics adopt the same Alexander and argumentative strategies previously used by the Classical writers? Christian discourse in the Roman Empire has attracted much scholarly interest.3 This chapter intends to provide a view of how early Christian writers adopted historical non-Christian exempla to serve their rhetorical aims and ideological goals. Above, I discussed the dichotomy between ‘us’ and ‘others’ in constructing rival identities in the traditional Roman, Greek, and Jewish culture. This question is also raised in this chapter as a use of Alexander in the Christian texts. Just as there were many varieties of ‘paganism’, so there was considerable variety in Christian and Jewish belief in the first five centuries.4 However, of importance to this study is the way in which writers constructed certain categorizing presentations of religious and cultural identities. I argue that the different uses of Alexander were part of their self-identification, as the Christians created a coherent image of themselves and portrayed ‘pagans’ as the other. The different uses of Alexander in early and late Christian literature have not been studied in detail. The main scholarly interest has been concentrated on certain textual passages, for example, by Augustine and Orosius.5 Moreover, some
Alexander in Christian apologia 165 other Christian texts, for instance, those referring to Alexander’s role in the Book of Daniel, have not received any attention at all. My hypothesis is that searching for a uniform Christian view of Alexander is fruitless, as there was no single view. As in the case of the Classical texts analyzed above, the varying functions of Christian writings and their authors’ intentions had a radical influence on Alexander’s portrayal. In the first subchapter, I examine Christian texts that attacked traditional philosophy and religion by referring to stories about Alexander. Next, I identify how the traditions of Alexander and the ascetic philosophers (Diogenes and the Indian Brahmans) were subordinated to the needs of the Christian ascetic movement. The third and fourth subchapters deal with the portrait of Alexander based on Josephus and the Book of Daniel. The task here is to explore how Christian authors exploited information they found in Josephus’ texts and in the Book of Daniel in their religious rhetoric. The last subchapter approaches the critical Christian presentations of Alexander’s fame as an interpretation of their contemporary Roman world.
Against pagan philosophy and religion Christian writers provide another interesting point of view on Alexander and the use of the past. Here I explore how the tradition of Alexander was part of the counter-argument offered Christian writers when they attacked and gave new meanings to traditional philosophy and religion. In this subchapter, I ask how and why the Macedonian king was adapted to become a part of the argumentative strategy. What new meanings did the old tradition of Alexander receive when the Christian authors used it for their rhetorical purposes? Here I concentrate on the early Christian apologetic literature of the second century to the Christian writings of the fourth and early fifth centuries, which criticized traditional philosophy and religion. Christian apologetic texts can be seen as a reaction against the attacks of cultured pagans who accused Christianity and the Christian movement of being intellectually wanting, foolish, self-contradictory, and rambling.6 This is certainly one explanation that the Christian writers gave to their literate audience, which included both cultured pagans and Christians. However, their writings were not merely defensive in character: they were intended not only to strengthen the position of Christianity in Roman society, but also to criticize aspects of traditional culture, and not least to define Christianity itself and build Christian identity.7 The Christian apologetic texts were also addressed to non-Christian audiences with the aim of converting them to Christianity, and provided a useful source of arguments for Christians wishing to explain or defend their position.8 The value of Classical literature and philosophy was a controversial matter among Christian thinkers and writers. Saint Paul had already warned Christian believers, in the letter to the Colossians (2:8), to be wary of philosophy, which he described as ‘empty deceit’ (κενῆ ἀπάτη), since it could lead someone astray from Christian doctrine. However, in the second century, the Christian writers who were highly positioned in Christian communities had usually received
166 Alexander in Christian apologia a Classical education and had started to write works in which the ideological borders between ‘Christian thinking’ and traditional philosophy were redefined. Christian writers like Justin Martyr (ca. 100–165) perceived themselves as writing ‘Christian philosophy’ in an effort to connect traditional philosophy to Christian doctrine.9 However, essential to the Christian writers was absolute truth: indeed, since Greek philosophy was based on human intelligence alone, it could only give an incomplete and misjudged truth, while Christianity claimed to possess the absolute truth as revealed by God himself.10 Some early Christian writers such as Tatian (120–180) and Tertullian (ca. 155 – ca. 220) saw a radical opposition between Christianity and traditional philosophy by creating strong rhetorical juxtapositions between the Christian faith and its pagan opposites. The need to create a new Christian theology or to posit strong rhetorical oppositions between the Christian and Classical traditions was probably motivated by the Roman intellectuals, at least after Celsus’ accusation that Christian thought was ‘barbarian’ in origin compared to Classical culture and philosophy.11 In addition, since Christianity tried to present itself as the one and only true doctrine and lifestyle, superior to polytheistic religions and philosophical teachings, there was pressure to create Christian doctrine according to the models and theoretical language of traditional philosophy. By assessing traditional philosophy, Christian writers defined Christian doctrine and Christian identity itself. Even though traditional philosophy and its basic principles were more relativist and confessed more varying ideological tenets than the Christian groups, it had its respected philosophers like Aristotle and Diogenes who enjoyed very high status in traditional culture. In some of the early Christian apologetic literature, the famous and respected traditional philosophers were put under extreme scrutiny and their teachings and authority were questioned. Since Alexander was a famous student of Aristotle and encountered philosophers like Diogenes, we encounter him in the early apologetic texts on traditional philosophy. Unsurprisingly, the positive tradition of Alexander as a philosopher or philosophical figure (see chapter 3) does not appear in these Christian passages. In Tatian’s Address to the Greeks and Tertullian’s Apology, Alexander’s relationship with Aristotle becomes part of the argumentative strategy used against traditional philosophy and culture. Tatian, one of the earliest writers of Christian apologetics, first challenges the superiority of Greek culture as ‘vain’ and then places it alongside Christian religion and thought. Tatian’s attitude to Hellenistic philosophy was extremely hostile.12 He strongly criticizes the doctrines of Plato, Aristotle, Diogenes, and Epicurus and their behavior. When Tatian attacks Aristotle, he uses the stories of Alexander’s career to indicate the philosopher’s foolishness and his inability to teach the young king properly or show him the right doctrines. According to him, Aristotle did not fulfill his duty as a preceptor but flattered his young pupil, characterized as ‘forgetful’ and ‘young’. In other words, Tatian openly suggests that Alexander needed a good tutor and that Aristotle’s ‘low’ teaching failed.13 In Tatian’s line of reasoning, Alexander’s infamous wrongs, already known from previous literature, reveal how bad Aristotle’s philosophy must have been.
Alexander in Christian apologia 167 Alexander strictly obeyed the precepts of his teacher in displaying ‘manliness’ and ‘courage’ by feasting and killing his most beloved friend with a spear. Tatian refers to the Cleitus episode without mentioning Cleitus by name, which is part of his rhetorical technique. In Tatian’s rhetoric, Alexander’s act of killing his friend was the result of his obedience to what his instructor had taught him. In other words, Alexander learned false concepts of the virtues of ‘manliness’ and ‘courage’ from Aristotle, and all this according to the tenets of traditional philosophy. In the same context, no laudable motives are given for the king’s ‘semblance of grief’ (weeping and starving himself) after killing Cleitus. Even though early Christian texts include the possibility of individual repentance for sins, all positive connotations are removed from the story of Alexander’s grief in Tatian’s narrative.14 The king’s repentance was caused by the fear that his friends (other Macedonians) would hate him for what he had done. This contrasted with Arrian’s interpretation, since he saw Alexander’s actions as a sign of genuine and laudable repentance.15 Tatian was probably aware of the passages written by Cicero and Seneca, in which the king’s action was adjusted against Peripatetic views of anger. However, Tatian’s aim was not to attack the Aristotelian passion-therapy but to show the limits of traditional philosophy. In Tatian’s work, the image of Aristotle as responsible for Alexander’s wrongdoings in itself reflects the unsuitability of Peripatetic doctrines. By the supposed evidentiary value of the past, Tatian questions the traditional concept of virtue in the Greco-Roman world. He is preparing his audience for the vera religio, the alleged truth that Christian teaching and its virtues represent. In the Apology of Tertullian, written a couple of decades after Tatian’s work, the author attacks the conduct of the Greek philosophers Diogenes, Pythagoras, and Anaxagoras by contrasting their teachings and lifestyle with Christian teaching. Tertullian writes about the relationship between Alexander and Aristotle: “The same Aristotle’s shameful tutorship of Alexander is equivalent to flattery.”16 In the passage, Tertullian compares Aristotle and Christians in terms of ‘honesty’ (modestia). The tutorship of Alexander is described as a failure, which derives from the tradition known from Seneca. In Seneca, the image of the Macedonian king as a pupil of Aristotle, lacking self-control and organizing banquets, stressed the importance of a Stoic lifestyle and anger control.17 However, as in Tatian’s work, Tertullian’s main argument was radically different: to attack the legacy of traditional philosophy and its famous representatives. In the argumentative strategy, stories drawn from the Classical past or mythology showed the limits of the highly respected traditional philosophy and its readiness to offer fitting instruction. In other words, these references emphasized the need for, and the superiority of, Christian teaching. The superiority of Christian paideia was the main theme of The tutor, an apologetic text written by Clement of Alexandria (b. 150, d. 211–216), a contemporary of Tatian and Tertullian. The work tries to underline the greatness of divine instruction and of the instructor, that is, Christ himself. Traditional education and the ‘godly’ are juxtaposed. The superiority of Christian education is highlighted through references to the Classical tradition. Clement uses the relationship between Alexander and his pedagogue
168 Alexander in Christian apologia Leonides, referred to by Quintilian in his Orator’s education, to underline the limits of traditional paideia in contrast to Christian conduct.18 In one passage, Clement lists the famous tutors of Classical literature who failed in their tasks. Clement refers to their inability to teach their pupils. An example is Alexander’s arrogance/vanity (τῦφος), which was so strong that his teacher Leonides was unable to subdue it.19 In the following passage, Clement not only refers to Christ as the perfect tutor, but also points out that every human has a weakness – sin – and that earthly education cannot remove this.20 In contrast to traditional pedagogy, Christian ‘higher learning’ can make one aware of the wicked consequences of sin and that one can only get rid of it with the guidance of Christ. Tatian, Tertullian, and Clement all exploited the shared stock of historical exempla. With these stories, authors wanted to prove that traditional philosophy failed to make its representatives truly virtuous, unlike Christian education, which really did help its pupils. Classical philosophy and literature formed an ideological foundation for the traditional culture, but for the Christians these teachings were not a strong authority. Instead, Christian communities considered the Scriptures their highest authority and tried to support and spread their beliefs by converting nonChristians, and by showing the alleged weaknesses of Classical philosophy and literature. Apologetic texts written in the second and third centuries were intended to convince their audience that the Christian way of life and doctrine were not only equal to but better than whatever traditional philosophy could offer the cultured Roman elite. The Church attained a firmer status in the Empire through the policy of Constantine.21 However, the distinction between Christian thought and traditional wisdom was still acute, since there was a large non-Christian population in the Empire, and Julian’s anti-Christian cultural policy during his short reign (361– 363) kept the confrontation between the non-Christian and Christian elites alive.22 The need to define and create Christian identities independent of the traditional culture was still important for the Christian writers of the fourth century. Two Christian passages from the fourth century exploit stories about Alexander to define the true worth of Classical culture and philosophy. The passages come from John Chrysostom’s (ca. 345–407) Discourse on blessed Babylas, composed in 378, and Basil of Caesarea’s (330–379) Address to young men on the right use of Greek literature. Although the two works seem to represent distinct views, closer examination reveals that they have the same rhetorical goals. The first strongly attacks pagan culture and philosophy, the second provides a reconciliatory outlook on traditional Classical and Christian culture. However, both works intend to convince their audience of the superiority of the Christian faith. Through Babylas, Chrysostom gives a strong critique of non-Christian philosophers, accusing them of vainglory (κενοδοξία), impudence (θρασύτης), and puerility (παιδικός).23 Diogenes is strongly criticized, while the Christian way of life which Babylas represents is raised above all Greco-Roman culture. Unsurprisingly, Chrysostom’s Discourse on blessed Babylas presents Diogenes and Alexander in a completely different light from the treaties of the Early Empire, which
Alexander in Christian apologia 169 highly praised the autonomy of Diogenes the Cynic.24 Chrysostom considers the frankness (παρρησίᾳ) which Diogenes displayed when encountering the king (Alexander). Diogenes answered the king’s request with the statement: “Retire from sight! Don’t show your face!”25 In Chrysostom’s view, it would have been much better for Diogenes to clothe himself with a ‘fine outer garment’ (ἱμάτιον ἁδρὸν) and be active (ἐνεργός) towards the king, and ask him for something useful rather than sit there in his rags like a suckling infant.26 In Chrysostom’s passage, Diogenes’ witty remarks indicate vanity and impudence. The fame and reputation that Diogenes enjoyed in the Classical tradition was criticized and brought into question.27 However, Chrysostom’s critical presentation should not be regarded as an attack on Cynic philosophy and an attempt to undermine all philosophical texts and their authority, but mainly as an argumentative strategy. In previous research, it has been suggested that Chrysostom’s presentation was directed especially at Julian’s defense of ‘real Cynics’.28 I suggest that Chrysostom’s work also represents the argumentative strategy seen in the previously discussed apologetic works of the second and third centuries; by using historical exempla to create an extremely critical image of pagan philosophy, Chrysostom praises Christian faith and doctrine. It is a matter of defining the borders between the greatness of Christian culture and its famous representatives, martyrs and saints, who are raised above the pagan heroes (philosophers and warlords). In this project, historical exempla are used to criticize Classical philosophy, thus proclaiming the superiority of Christian over pagan thought. Basil’s Address to young men on the right use of Greek literature has the same rhetorical goals, but it is more about consolidating the Classical tradition within Christian culture. Instead of rejecting Classical philosophy through critical reasoning, Basil tries to define the proper value of non-Christian wisdom and to reason why and to what degree young Christian men should become acquainted with traditional culture. He does this with the help of anecdotes about the past. Basil claims that he who knows pagan examples will no longer consider Christian precepts ‘unpractical’. He mentions four incidents from pagan literature – anecdotes on the life of Socrates, Pericles, Euclid, and Alexander – as proofs of the utility of traditional literature:29 I should not pass over the example of Alexander, who, when he had taken prisoner the daughters of Darius, although it had been testified to him that they possessed a marvellous beauty, did not think it fitting even to look upon them, judging it to be disgraceful for one who had captured men to be vanquished by women. Indeed, this example tends to the same purport as that well-known precept of ours – that he who looks upon a woman to enjoy her, although he does not commit adultery in act, yet in truth, because he has received the desire into his soul, is not free of guilt.30 In Basil’s text, ‘the conqueror of men’ did not want to be a slave to women or lust. We witness the praise of Alexander’s self-possession when confronted with captive Persian women in the Classical tradition.31 The gender roles of the Classical
170 Alexander in Christian apologia world demanded that men be both sexually active (except in indulging passive partners) and show self-control in sexual matters. This was an ideal for a free man who was able to demonstrate mastery over his body.32 Since Alexander did not rape captive women or allow himself to be seduced by their beauty, he is praised in the Classical tradition. Previously, writers like Plutarch had stressed the philosophical virtue of selfcontrol (σωφροσύνη) and the king’s education, using the above anecdote to create the image of the philosopher – king.33 In Basil’s rhetoric, Alexander’s conduct affirms the truth of Jesus’ instructions.34 Alexander’s conduct represents a proper pre-Christian moral model that can be retained by his contemporary Christians. The message is that when the figures and ideas found in Greek literature are in accordance with Christian teachings and lifestyle, they can be used and imitated. At the same time, Basil reasons that knowledge of both Classical literature and Christian doctrine offers possibilities for understanding the authenticity of Christian conduct. Christian teaching is valid and righteous since even non-Christians have affirmed its truthfulness. For Basil, it was essential that his Christian audience interpret the Classical material properly and then subordinate it to Christian doctrine. Tatian, Tertullian, Clement, John Chrysostom, and Basil all defended and argued for the superiority of Christian doctrine over ‘pagan’ philosophy. Some of the material found in Classical literature served their rhetorical purposes. In their texts, when they used Alexander anecdotes, it was not always he that was the main target, but instead famous philosophers like Aristotle and Diogenes. However, since the king was a pupil of the former and had a famous encounter with the latter, he also appears in the narrative. As well as providing a means to criticize non-Christian thought, the Classical exemplum could sometimes be presented in a positive light, as in the case of Basil. Part of the Christian project was to show the false and wrongful nature of pagan Roman religiosity. This was a major issue since unconditional monotheistic Judeo-Christian action sometimes raised anger, suspicion, and violent persecution among the representatives of traditional religions, not least many emperors themselves. Roman officials saw it as treason.35 First, therefore, the early apologetics tried to give reasons why Christians rejected all worship of traditional gods and everything that was related to their worship. Second, there was evidently motive for converting the representatives of the traditional culture to Christian faith. Christian intellectuals thought or hoped that after seeing the uselessness of traditional religion, members of the Roman elite would adopt Christianity as their new religion. One strategy adopted by Christian writers in the struggle over ‘religious truth’ and in defining the ideological borders of Christian and traditional thinking was to pick a well-known philosophical theory or stance that could be used to support their argumentation.36 A frequently exploited philosophical paradigm was the euhemeristic theory, which explained that gods were originally personified powers of nature or human heroes deified in gratitude for their benefits towards mankind.37 One piece of euhemeristic literature of the Hellenic period was
Alexander in Christian apologia 171 Alexander’s supposed letter to his mother, Olympias. This work became an oftcited non-Christian text in the works of the early Christian apologetics and Church Fathers, but modern scholars consider it a forgery. It was probably composed after the works of Hecateus of Abdera and Euhemerus.38 The supposed letter from Alexander to his mother has not survived, so we cannot test its historicity and contents. However, of importance to our study is how Christian writers exploited the work in their critique of Roman religion and its authenticity. In surviving Christian presentations, Alexander’s letter is presented as containing secret information that Alexander heard from an Egyptian high priest in Egypt, which he later revealed to his mother. This ‘secret’ evidence, that the pagan gods were deified mortal men, became proof for the ‘real’ nature of pagan religiosity. The letter containing correspondence between two non-Christians was regarded, or at least presented, as testimony to what even some pagans thought about their own religion. The early Christian apologist Athenagoras the Athenian is the first Christian writer known to have referred to the letter. This occurrence comes in the proChristian work named Embassy for the Christians, written to Marcus Aurelius and Lucius Aurelius Commodus for the purpose of winning the emperors’ favor. Athenagoras uses Classical literature to defend Christianity against charges of atheism, incest, and cannibalism. Alexander’s supposed letter appears in the passage where Athenagoras is explaining why the Christians refuse to take part in idolatry. According to Athenagoras, the worst of all who demand worship are demons, but gods were simply men. As a justification for this argument, Athenagoras reminds his readers that Herodotus and Alexander both learned this fact from the Egyptian priests.39 We can identify the same argumentative strategy in the works of later Christian writers of the third century. Minucius Felix’s (c. 200–240) pro-Christian dialogue Octavius and the letter That idols are not gods, written by Cyprian of Carthage (c. 200–258), both use Alexander’s letter in their argumentation. Minucius’ aim was to defend Christianity on the basis of reason and the Greco-Roman literary tradition.40 Alexander’s letter is referred to in the section where Octavius, one of the main characters of the work, gives the reasons why Greek gods should be recognized as demons or deified mortal humans. He refers to the ‘remarkable letter’ of the ‘famous Alexander the Great of Macedon’.41 In his passage, Cyprian uses Alexander’s letter, named the ‘famous volume’, as he comments on the polytheistic system in which different nations worship different gods and no god is worshipped by all. As Minucius Felix does in Octavius, Cyprian states that in the letter Alexander told Olympias that the Egyptian priest revealed ancient secrets about the gods out of fear of him. The Egyptian priest told Alexander that the gods are in fact ancient men whose memory was preserved in the minds of the ancestors. That is where the rites of worship and sacrifice developed. Cyprian takes the euhemeristic theory as fact and mocks belief in the pagan gods: if gods like Juno were born from the other gods, why is Jupiter not still having babies? The message of the passage is clear: if they ever existed in any form, these ‘gods’ may once have been mortals, but if so they no longer exist and never existed in
172 Alexander in Christian apologia the form that representatives of the traditional religion think. This notion was obviously a simplistic one, but created an image of ‘us’ Christians and the ‘other’, the pagans. The main argument was that it is senseless to worship pagan gods and that the whole polytheistic system is irrational.42 Alexander’s letter ‘proved’ that even the most illustrious pagans came to this conclusion, but they covered up this unpleasant fact, either because they were forced to or because it suited their purposes. The attack against the polytheistic system in the above passages was not carried out with the use of biblical authority, but on the grounds of evidence found in Classical literature. The figure of Alexander suited the argument well since his divinity and relationship with religion was already well known in that tradition. In many instances in the Classical texts, Alexander’s desire for divine status and divination was criticized.43 In addition, representatives of Classical religion had discussed critically the methods of divination and belief in portents by referring to Alexander’s religiosity, as is evident in Seneca’s Suasoriae on ‘Alexander debates whether to enter Babylon’ and in the works of the Alexander historians.44 It is therefore not surprising that the material dealing with Alexander’s notorious desire for divine status was also used by the early Christians, sometimes in concert with euhemeristic theory, when Christians criticized pagan religions. The critique of polytheism, expressed by referring to Alexander’s divination, occurs twice in the anti-polytheistic passages of the Exhortation to the Greeks written by Clement of Alexandria:45 Alexander wished to be thought the son of Ammon, and to be depicted with horns by the sculptors, so eager was he to outrage the beautiful face of man by a horn.46 Godless devotees of daemon-worship, men who the folly of daemonworshippers, who called Alexander a god, are on the very verge of the pit through their folly and insanity, makers of idols and worshippers of stones. For these are they who have dared to deify men, describing Alexander of Macedon as the thirteenth god, though “Babylon proved him mortal”.47 First, the Macedonian king is listed as a man who wanted to be seen as the son of Ammon and who even ordered his staff to put the horns of Ammon on his statues. We know that the Macedonian world-conqueror is also depicted with the ram’s horn of Zeus Ammon on Egyptian coins of Ptolemy and coins minted by Lysimachus.48 It is impossible to say whether Clement of Alexandria had seen such coin portrait types, but undoubtedly they made the image of deified Alexander known to the people of the Mediterranean. According to Clement, by doing this Alexander denigrated his human appearance. The statement was a reference to biblical thought concerning idols and possibly to Christian thought on the human body, which was increasingly eulogized as ‘made in God’s image’, as more perfect than that of other living beings on earth. In Judeo-Christian thinking, images of God were considered ‘disgusting’.49 In another passage, Clement reminds his readers that Alexander dared to raise himself to the rank of God, as a
Alexander in Christian apologia 173 thirteenth god.50 In Clement’s rhetoric, the figure of Alexander is a proof of how the famous representatives of polytheistic religion think loosely about their gods. Anyone and anything can be raised to the status of a god in pagan thinking. In the passage, Alexander’s sudden death in Babylon demonstrates the limits to his real status and disproves his supposed divinity. It can be argued that Christian writers recycled the previous non-Christian and Stoic presentations of Alexander’s limited success before his death.51 When John Chrysostom writes in one of his Homilies about a tendency to venerate some people more than they deserve, and about the affliction and distress that Christian saints faced, he uses the same anecdote about Alexander’s divinity.52 Chrysostom writes that the Roman senate decreed Alexander to be the 13th god, for it possessed the privilege of electing and enrolling gods. In the passage, Chrysostom compares the respect that saints receive de facto and should receive with typical pagan religious practices. Contrary to the other passages analyzed above, Chrysostom’s primary audience was his fellow Christians. Chrysostom summarizes the euhemeristic idea that idolatry started when certain men of the past were raised to the status of gods. Chrysostom reminds his readers that Christians should not venerate their saints as pagans have venerated their heroes, by placing mortals on the same level as gods. To prove this ‘senseless’ aspect of traditional religion, the reference to the anecdote about Alexander’s divinity is presented as an historical exemplum. The figure of Alexander was a deliberate choice, as the king enjoyed great respect in the Roman world. Yet in the passage,
Figure 5.1 Coin minted by Lysimachus (305–281 BC) which portrays Alexander deified as Zeus Ammon. The Macedonian world-conqueror is also depicted with the ram’s horns of Zeus Ammon on the Egyptian coins of Ptolemy. It is impossible to say whether Clement of Alexandria had seen this portraiture of Alexander in coinage, but undoubtedly such coin types made an image of deified Alexander known to the people of the Mediterranean. Source: Classical Numismatic Group, Inc. (www.cngcoins.com).
174 Alexander in Christian apologia it is the Roman senate that deified Alexander, as distinct from Aelian’s passage concerning Alexander’s deification as the 13th god composed at least 150 years before.53 We do not know what Chrysostom’s source was, but we can assume that the change is either an invention or a misinterpretation on the part of Chrysostom. The passage quoted above relates Alexander’s supposedly divine status to the Imperial protocol demanding the veneration of earlier emperors, who were also ‘promoted to gods’ by decree of the senate, and functions as a warning against the wrong kind of reverence. In Augustine’s City of God, the criticism of pagan Roman religion employs the same sources as the passages cited above. In fact, Augustine refers to Alexander’s letter more often than the other writers do. As in the Christian apologetics, Augustine uses the letter to point to the true origin of the gods, explicitly attacking the traditional Roman views of Varro.54 Alexander and the information in the letter are handled together when Augustine compares the respect shown to Christian martyrs with the respect that pagans gave to their traditional gods.55 According to Augustine, the respect shown to martyrs by the Christians and the respect shown by pagans to their traditional gods are totally different in character: Christians honor martyrs, but they do not build shrines, consecrate priests, or perform rites for their martyrs, whereas pagans do so for their gods. Furthermore, Augustine explains why the custom of bringing food to martyrs’ tombs does not count as sacrificing to them. In contrast to Christian martyrs, he mentions the Egyptian goddess Isis. According to Augustine, if one wants to explore ‘how many and monstrous was their wickedness, as reported by poets and their mystic writings’, one can do this by looking at Alexander’s letter to his mother, in which he recorded the facts as revealed by Leo. Augustine suggests that as one reads it, one should ponder the monstrous sins in the rites addressed to the dead as if they were gods. In his argumentation, the origin of the gods reveals the genuine difference between Christian and pagan conduct. In addition, it explains why pagan worship is morally lower than the Christian worship of the one true God. Although Augustine considers the letter’s information credible, he discredits it in one passage on the age of the world, which conflicts with biblical chronology.56 This adaptive use of the work suggests that Augustine did not have a strong opinion on the veracity of Alexander’s letter, which can be detected in what he says in The city of God. The letter was a source that could be exploited in a flexible way to support his arguments. A similar adaptive use of Alexander’s legacy becomes evident in the works of Orosius, a pupil of Augustine.57 Orosius’ History against the pagans uses Alexander’s actions at the oracle of Siwah as evidence of the false nature of idols. The passage includes a criticism of the pagan religion and worship that we do not find in the other passages of Orosius concerning Alexander.58 In discussing the king’s visit to Siwah, Orosius writes: For, according to what their historians say, he summoned the priest of the shrine and secretly advised him of answers that he wished to hear, when he pretended to consult the oracle. So Alexander was convinced, and has shown
Alexander in Christian apologia 175 us, that since gods are both deaf and dumb, that it is either in the power of the priest to devise whatever answer he wishes or in the credulity of the petitioner to hear what he prefers to hear.59 In the Classical tradition, the king’s visit to the oracle of Siwah was criticized as the creation of the wrong kind of ruler-cult and as excessive conduct.60 However, in Orosius’ text, the tradition of the king’s interview with the oracle is portrayed in a positive light, as a proof that Alexander himself did not even believe in the gods. The reference to the gods as both deaf and dumb is from the Bible.61 In the wording ‘and has shown us’, there is an allusion to Alexander’s letter to his mother (the letter is referred to but not named). In the passage, Orosius relates stories of Alexander’s divination to the information found in the letter. In other parts of Orosius’ work, he represents Alexander in an extremely critical and negative way, but here the king is depicted as recognizing the valid and truthful nature of the pagan gods. The alleged truth in the passage was that traditional gods are false (as every rational person knows) since even famous pagans themselves like Alexander did not consider their gods as real. In contrast to the Christian writers’ representation of Alexander from the second to the fifth century, it is interesting that representatives of the pagan religions could use the image of Alexander positively as an example of ideal piousness shown to the gods. In his letter to the Alexandrians, Julian presents Alexander as a worshipper of the gods in a positive way.62 Julian calls the Macedonian king ‘godfearing’ (θεοσεβής), which indicates a religious person who serves and respects (fears) the gods. In the passage, Julian reminds his audience that the founder of their city – Alexander – was above all else a representative of polytheistic religion and of the Greek gods. In his anti-Christian message, he says the citizens of the city should imitate Alexander and remember the greatness of their great men. Historical exempla were clearly part of the ideological battle between the Christians and their opponents, who represented traditional culture and religion.63 In the early Christian texts, the critique of traditional philosophy and Roman religion was justified through references to, and interpretations of, the Classical material. The Hebrew and the Greek Bible formed the basic framework in which the writers operated and determined their interpretations of the Classical material and its stories of the past. The chosen exempla from the Classical tradition proved the limits and wrongs of traditional philosophy. The claim was that Christian thought was not only equal to that of the famous pagan philosophers of the Greco-Roman world, but superior to it, and that it therefore led to better conduct. It had the authority of the word (logos) of God, which pagan philosophy did not. In Christian presentations, the image of the king as a bad pupil of Aristotle was adjusted to blame Aristotle and the philosophical teaching he represented for the king’s failures. The image of Alexander as a virtuous philosopher – king was naturally omitted. Since Christianity claimed to be the only true religion, Christian writers were compelled to criticize pagan religions. It is, however, interesting that Christian writers employed criticisms of the traditional religion written by the ‘pagans’ themselves. Skeptical notions about the origin of the traditional
176 Alexander in Christian apologia gods or the vague oracular responses of the ancient cults still left the door open for the existence of one true God.64 By presenting the tradition concerning Alexander as they did, Christian intellectuals defended Christian thought and action and encouraged their readers to abandon traditional Roman cult practices in the late second and early third centuries. Their aim was to weaken and eventually dispel the hostility to Christianity. Christian conduct, they emphasized, was not unreasonable and dangerous, but sensible and understandable. By the time of Augustine, the position of the Christians had radically changed, but the arguments reinforced by exempla about Alexander retained their value. Alexander’s lasting legacy was used to confirm the information found in the letter and his striving for divine status, which had already been condemned in Classical literature.
On behalf of the Christian ascetics Ascetic doctrines and a monastic lifestyle were adopted by many Christian groups during the fourth and fifth centuries. The ascetic movement itself was not a new phenomenon in the Classical world: there existed ascetics among the pre-Christian philosophical sects, like the Cynics and adherents of Plato.65 However, these traditional students of philosophy were motivated mainly by secular philosophical doctrines, while the Judeo-Christian groups connected the ascetic lifestyle with worshipping God. In this section, I explore how the Christian texts on asceticism gave new meanings to Alexander’s legendary meetings with Diogenes and the Indian philosophers in the monastic discourse. As I have shown (in chapter 3), Alexander’s encounters with Diogenes of Sinope and the Indian Brahmans were popular reference points for Roman intellectuals. In this subchapter, I ask how and why the king’s meetings (or the representation of these encounters) with these individuals were used to define and legitimize the Christian ascetic way of life. In what ways was the king, who represented material wealth and worldly glory, compared to those who chose a contemplative life with the aim of supporting the monastic movement and Christian ascetic ideas? The monastic movement and Christian asceticism have often been considered a reaction to the development of the ‘Imperial’ Church in the fourth century. The Christian perception that material wealth shows God’s favor in life, and the replacement of eschatological expectations with the activity of this life, produced reactions like withdrawing to the desert.66 However, it is difficult to know why late antique Christians increasingly embraced monasticism. Its roots must be sought in the ascetic, philosophical tendencies that were present in nearly all forms of early Christianity.67 Christian monasticism had no common identity, leadership, or direction until monastic writers started to devise a monastic history in the late fourth and early fifth centuries. From the fourth century onwards, a Christian monastic literature defending and promoting the ascetic and monastic lifestyle appears. It gave accounts of the great founders of Christian monasticism. Among these works is John Chrysostom’s Against the enemies of the monastic life. The work urges Christians to pursue a monastic life and to despise worldly values, endorsing the
Alexander in Christian apologia 177 life as an example of virtue and presenting monks as ‘philosophers’.68 An important section of the target audience of this work was probably non-Christians and the Christian elite who were suspicious of the monastic lifestyle. Chrysostom’s work defends the Christian ascetic lifestyle by using exempla drawn from Classical literature. In contrast to the Discourse on blessed Babylas, here Chrysostom uses the tradition on Diogenes and Alexander positively.69 Alexander was ready to give Diogenes an enormous amount of money, but the Cynic rejected it, although Alexander tried hard.70 According to Chrysostom, Christian monks, like Diogenes, would not change their lifestyle even if someone like Alexander offered them material wealth. Not only would they not take the money, but they would not desire to own material wealth in any form. Diogenes was probably the most famous philosopher to lead an ascetic life. In Chrysostom’s opinion, the illustrious life of the pagan Cynic proclaimed the virtues and the determination of his contemporary Christian ascetics. The chosen exemplum served to convince the audience that there is nothing odd about an ascetic lifestyle and that a man can be fully happy in making this choice. Alexander’s role symbolized worldly wealth and the temptation to interrupt or abandon the ascetic lifestyle. Krueger suggests that Chrysostom was saying that if the figure of Diogenes was respected among educated Christians, then they should value their own ascetic monks all the more.71 In another passage, Chrysostom addresses parents who resist the choice of the monastic life by their children. In defense of the latter, Chrysostom states that splendid glory is not missing from the monastic life. Chrysostom lists kings and their contemporary philosophers and asks which of them is more illustrious, praised, and spoken about by all. He draws comparisons between Dionysius the tyrant of Sicily and Plato, Socrates and Archelaus the king of Macedon.72 Plato and Socrates are known to many, while the kings are virtually unknown. Again, Alexander left everything, approached Diogenes, and asked him if he needed or wanted anything. But the man of Sinope did not reply. Chrysostom adds that these philosophers became more famous than the kings, even though they chose a secluded life free of business and played no part in government. Chrysostom exploited the reputation of the famous Classical philosophers whom he attacked and criticized in the Discourse on blessed Babylas. In Hellenic culture, in which Christians also lived, parents hoped their children would receive a respected education, a public career, and possibly a highly appreciated post. By abandoning city life, asceticism meant a rejection of this culture and threatened familiar patterns of life.73 The hopes that non-Christian and many Christian parents had for their children were destroyed if their offspring chose an ascetic life.74 In this cultural milieu, Chrysostom chose to defend the ascetic movement by raising the legacy and fame of the great philosophers over that of great leaders and generals like Alexander. In Chrysostom’s rhetoric, monks were philosophers and pedagogues in the long Hellenic tradition. The juxtaposition of, on the one hand, a representative of the ascetic and contemplative life, and, on the other hand, a man of higher status representing a secular life, had been used previously by the pagans themselves (see
178 Alexander in Christian apologia pages 99–107). In Chrysostom’s work, Christian monks, portrayed as philosophers, were superior to individuals in power. In the monastic discourse, Chrysostom used the old legacy given to the famous philosophers to strengthen the Christian ascetics’ identity. On the races of India and the Brahmans,75 written in the same period as Chrysostom’s treatise, exploits the Classical tradition on the Macedonian king and his alleged meeting with the Indian ascetic philosophers. Although the authorship and dating of the work is not clear, it was certainly composed by a Christian writer of the fourth or fifth century, possibly Palladius.76 The work dealing with Alexander’s meeting with the Brahmans and their leader, Dandamis, sets the meeting in the ideological context of the Christian ascetic movement.77 The passage has interested scholars largely because of its account of the supposedly historical meeting between Alexander and the Indian gymnosophists. Richard Stoneman has tried to identify information on the historical Indian Brahmans and their thought.78 He has approached the work especially from the standpoint of the literary tradition and legends transmitted in the different versions of the Alexander Romance. Beverly Berg identified some Christian elements in the text, but for her it was still an “early Christian portrait of Indian asceticism”.79 She is cautious about the Christian layers she recognized. Similarly, Stoneman sees the Christianization in the work as very slight, and as consisting mainly of the insertion of the allusion to ‘God’, whereas the older texts discuss ‘the gods’.80 However, I would argue that the treatise should be seen primarily as a depiction of the Christian ascetic doctrine of the fourth and fifth centuries, rather than as a portrayal of the Indian ascetics who lived during the reign of Alexander. There are several Christian additions clearly inserted by the Christian author. I suggest that they offer us an insight into how the work was written as a part of the monastic discourse presenting the ascetic lifestyle not only as understandable but as praiseworthy. The main content of the work promotes an ascetic lifestyle and expounds it within the framework of Christian monastic conduct. In the first part of the work, Alexander is presented as a king searching for wisdom and wanting to encounter the wise and good Brahmans.81 The king meets the Brahmans and the Indians, who teach him basic wisdom.82 In the next stage of the work, Alexander sends his friend Onesicritus as his delegate to meet the leader and teacher of the Brahmans, Dandamis.83 After this, Alexander is even more keen to meet Dandamis. Finally, Alexander meets Dandamis and has a conversation with him.84 The passage ends with the long address of Dandamis, after which Alexander returns. Not much attention has been paid to the work’s intended audience or why it was written. However, some hints appear in the first lines of the work. The writer praises the qualities of those addressed for their willingness to work hard, love of learning, and love of beauty, but above all, for their love of God. The writer notes that he is writing ‘again’, which implies that he had already written some other works. In addition, he characterizes his audience as men with philosophical interests.85 I would suggest that the work was directed at Christian readers. In the first lines of the introduction, the writer refers to biblical literature when he mentions
Alexander in Christian apologia 179 the rivers of Paradise in Genesis.86 These characterizations and references to the biblical tradition would have resonated with those who lived or knew the Christian or Jewish monastic lifestyle. The Christianization of the Brahmans and their leader Dandamis, and the Christian apologetic undertones, become evident in several aspects of the work. In the narrative, the Indian ascetics proclaim Christian thoughts and beliefs, many of which are identifiable from the Bible. The ascetic lifestyle is presented as pious and attached to the true God. In the reply to Onesicritus, Dandamis speaks of ‘God’ as ‘my only lord and god’ (ἐμὸς οὗτος δεσπότης καὶ θεὸς μόνος), as a god who receives the souls that have not been conquered ‘by desire’ (ἐπιθυμίᾳ).87 When Alexander threatens to cut his head off, he answers that his soul will depart to his Lord.88 The Lord will act as a judge for all violent acts, and wrongdoers will receive a punishment appropriate to their wrongs.89 These statements bear no relation to either traditional polytheistic Indian thought or Greek ideas and it could be argued that they are not likely traces of ancient Hindu theology; they bear a much closer resemblance to the Christian concept of the Last Judgment.90 In nonChristian ascetic doctrines, the Cynics sought a lifestyle in accordance with nature to gain freedom.91 However, in this Christian monastic discourse, the doctrines were connected to serving the Christian God. The portrait of God offered in this passage is thus Christian. Dandamis speaks of God’s ‘everlasting goodness and mercy on everyone’ (χρηστότητι γὰρ ἀϊδίῳ τοὺς πάντας ἐλεεῖς).92 Furthermore, after gathering wood and kindling a fire, Dandamis sings a hymn to God. In the hymn, he praises God as the creator of the universe, who watches over the souls of men, and gives honor to those who live properly, but judges those who disobey his commandments.93 The concept of the immortal soul appears in the text, and here, given the other statements mentioned above, it must belong in the Christian context and ethos of 300–400.94 Belief in the afterlife of the soul is the reason that Dandamis does not fear Alexander: “I shall simply depart to my God. He knows that I am just, and nothing is hidden from him.”95 A reference to the concept of hell also occurs in the passage in which Dandamis menaces Alexander with the dark promise of the afterlife for wrongdoers. Dandamis promises Alexander: “I shall look down on you [Alexander] from the sky and watch you paying the penalty, lamenting with bitter groans, giving account for all the things you have done.”96 The passage reminds us of the parable of Dives and Lazarus which appears in the Gospel of Luke.97 Dandamis (Lazarus) will watch in the future when Alexander (Dives) will pay the penalty for his deeds. In the afterlife, their positions will be reversed. Subsequently, Dandamis promises that Alexander will meet all those souls he has slaughtered unjustly and for no purpose. An afterlife in heaven, as a reward for living as an ascetic, is what motivates Dandamis in his conduct, and it is an attractive alternative to eternal damnation. At the same time, unfavorable judgment and condemnation to an eternity in hell is a deterrent for unbelievers. The emphasis on asceticism in this literary Christianization of the Brahmans and Dandamis strongly suggests that the work is part of the attempt to present ascetic doctrines as fundamentally Christian.
180 Alexander in Christian apologia The ascetic doctrine and lifestyle relate to serving God. This becomes evident in the passage where Dandamis criticizes Calanus for running away to the Greeks after failing to get closer to God while living the Brahman lifestyle for a short time. Calanus is presented as an apostate, a traitor, not a hero as in Philo’s text (cf. pages 00). Strikingly, it is mentioned that the ascetic way of life brings its followers ‘closer to God’ and to the ‘wisdom of God’, just as it was supposed to do in the Christian monastic lifestyle of the fourth and fifth centuries. Calanus symbolizes the Christian ascetics who abandoned their ascetic lifestyle and ‘ran away to the Greeks’ (ἐδραπέτευσε πρὸς τοὺς Ἕλληνας), that is, returned to the cities to enjoy their material comforts and wealth. As Dandamis puts it: “We have no need to visit the cities, which are meeting places of thieves and seedbeds of the wickedness.”98 In early Christian monasticism, it became a popular practice for monks to seek out deserted areas in large numbers, retiring from cities to the caves and mountains.99 Various monastic writers praised this kind of asceticism, which originated with the Egyptian hermits Anthony and Paul.100 However, in the late fourth and early fifth centuries some Church leaders tried to forbid individuals from doing this and from leaving monasteries without a bishop’s permission.101 The passage idealizing Brahmans living outside the urban areas seems to reject the ascetic practice (monasticism) in the urban areas. Defending the ascetic lifestyle is central to this work, in which it is a repeated theme, as it was to Chrysostom’s Against the enemies of the monastic life. The Indian ascetic told Alexander: “You will honor yourself by imitating us.”102 After trying to point out how wrongly Alexander thinks, Dandamis again urges the king to adopt an ascetic lifestyle and doctrine, and suggests to Alexander that he should ‘join us and live naked in the wilderness’.103 The old tradition of the ‘philosophical’ king is exploited in the passage. Alexander appears as a king who seeks the wisdom of the Brahmans.104 However, Alexander’s role in the work is that of a ‘heathen’ king to whom the ascetic lifestyle is introduced, justified, and recommended. In the tale, Alexander tries to question ascetic ideas but loses the wisdom contest. The king does not have the strength of character to abandon his possessions and power. Alexander not only shows his respect towards the leader of the Brahmans, but also confesses his feebleness and tries to offer gold and silver coins to Dandamis.105 Unsurprisingly, Dandamis rejects Alexander’s offer and chooses to remain an ascetic with total confidence in God. After hearing the reply, the amazed king leaves, carrying all the gifts he had brought with him.106 One aspect that brings this work closer to Christian anti-pagan works is its criticism of Roman culture and Hellenistic philosophy. The criticism appears in the final address of Dandamis, where his defense of a vegetarian diet turns to a disapproval of Roman amphitheater and symposium practices. Alexander is criticized for his ill-treatment of animals: for how some animals are hunted down, shut in cages, and paraded into the city. According to Dandamis, these animals (called ‘your fellow creatures’ and ‘works of God’) are not brought to the cities to breed and produce something useful, but to be abused and annihilated. Afterwards, men
Alexander in Christian apologia 181 are bound in cruel chains and are thrown to the beasts to face a ‘frightful death’ (κακίστῳ μόρῳ).107 We know that there were no gladiatorial shows in early Hellenistic Greece or Anatolia, which makes it obvious that these passages are anachronistic, composed by the Christian writer. In the same passage, Dandamis criticizes the practice of individuals ‘gathering in groups to enjoy drinking wine’ and ‘not stopping until they lose their senses’. As a result, they start to stretch their hands to make libations and raise their eyes to the sun.108 It is a critical reference to the Roman symposium, here depicted as an orgy. Dandamis also attacks the pouring of libations, which was a traditional religious practice in the Greco-Roman world. This critique could not have been composed by a representative of traditional GrecoRoman culture, but almost certainly is the work of a Christian writer – it was the Christians in particular who saw libation as a controversial pagan practice. In contrast, Dandamis makes it clear that Brahmans do not drink because they do not want to inflict madness on themselves. Again a point is made about the relationship with God. Dandamis explains that the drunken man lives like a dead man alienated from God.109 In the next passage, Dandamis anachronistically attacks the Epicureans and the Stoics.110 The Epicureans are dressed in soft clothes like women and pollute the air with artificial scents. The Stoics have a love of money. Despite these ‘weaknesses’, they are both depicted as great and admired among ‘you’, referring to the Hellenic paideia and culture established after Alexander´s conquest. Neither a ‘real’ Dandamis nor any other non-Christian of the fourth century BC could have attacked the great philosophical schools. These lines are written by an author whose statements are in line with those of many other Christian authors who attacked and questioned traditional Greek philosophy and culture. In summary, stories of Alexander and his meeting with the famous ascetic philosophers offered ways to promote the contemporary monastic movement. The old topos in the philosophical texts raised the representatives of contemplative retirement above the worldly fame of Alexander. In the texts composed to support the Christian ascetic lifestyle, the monastic practices were in turn raised above their ‘pagan’ and Jewish counterparts. Through the use of historical exempla, monastic writers created an image of ‘us’, the Christian ascetics, as a group deserving respect, and not revulsion and criticism, whether from fellow Christians or the representatives of the traditional culture. On the races of India and the Brahmans reveals how Classical material was Christianized and used for the ideological demands of the present. The role of Alexander was connected to his legacy as a famous world-conqueror who not only went to hear the words of the ascetics, but also venerated their lifestyle.
The people of Almighty God In this subchapter, I deal with the debate on the alleged status of Jews and early Christians as the people of Almighty God from the perspective of Alexander’s legendary visit to Jerusalem and the various interpretations made of it. Jonathan Goldstein defines the concept ‘people of Almighty God’ “as one which believes
182 Alexander in Christian apologia that a god stronger than all other powers combined is ultimately committed to be their protector, though temporarily the people may suffer adversity.”111 In this section this concept forms the framework for approaching the Jewish and Christian texts. First, I discuss how Josephus, as a Jewish apologetic writer, and other Jewish authors exploited Alexander’s visit to support the central idea of the Israelites/ Jews as the chosen people of God. Second, I concentrate on the ways that Christian writers gave new meanings to Alexander’s visit. I note the changes and continuities that appear in the uses of this story in relation to the sociopolitical context of the period and approach the views of the providence of Almighty God and His role in the history of Jews and Christians as a part of rhetorical argumentation. The question of constructing certain identities by using images of the past forms an important aspect of the analysis. The history of Israel in the Hebrew Bible is intricately connected to the idea that the nation of Israel was chosen by Almighty God.112 This phenomenon does not occur as such in other ancient peoples’ texts, although there were similarities in imagery and the detail of events and actions.113 In the biblical tradition, God revealed His will to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, chose Moses as the leader of His people, and made the holy covenant with the nation of Israel. Thereafter their God, being above all other divine forces, protected His people as long as they were His faithful servants. Alexander’s visit to Jerusalem is part of the popular Jewish literary tradition. In addition to occurring in Josephus’ account, written at the end of the first century, the story also appears later, and was further ideologically expanded, in some manuscripts (y-text) of the Greek Alexander Romance and in rabbinic literature.114 In the Jewish Antiquities, Josephus adjusts Alexander’s visit to Jerusalem to fit the grand narrative of the Jews as God’s chosen people, and to their special place among nations. Some scholars have defined Josephus’ narrative as ‘religious propaganda’.115 Many exaggerated elements in the narrative seem to promote the concept of the special nature of the Jewish religion and their one true God. Josephus depicts a threatening political situation for the Jewish people, since their high priest – by showing loyalty to Persia – refused to provide military support to the Macedonian king. At this critical moment, the high priest Jaddua is depicted as an ideal leader, turning to God and hoping the Almighty will protect His people when Alexander advances in anger towards Jerusalem: He [Jaddua] therefore ordered the people to make supplications, and, offering sacrifice to God together with them besought Him to shield the nation and deliver them from the dangers that were hanging over them.116 The climax of the account is achieved with the Jewish people’s miraculous survival. The critical situation is described in accordance with the earlier biblical tradition in which a foreign power places the Israelites in a hopeless situation, in which the future of the whole nation comes under serious threat. According to the biblical accounts, it is God’s intervention which prevents the destruction of His
Alexander in Christian apologia 183 people during moments of danger and turns the aggression against their adversaries.117 This is a privilege that only the people of Almighty God possess. Thus Jewish salvation history was used as proof of their unique status before God, both in the past and in the present. In addition, it is a reminder that other nations lack such a heavenly support. According to the biblical tradition, God’s miraculous intervention is the solution to a problematic situation. In the narrative, Jaddua is presented as the middleman between Almighty God and His people, and acts entirely according to the directions given to him from above, like all the great heroes of the Old Testament. By doing so, he ensured the miraculous salvation of the Jewish people and their holy city of Jerusalem.118 The clear religious message is that when the Jewish leader turns to God, by making supplications and proper sacrifices, he and his people can receive unexpected deliverance. God appears to Jaddua in a dream and urges him to take courage. God gives him a plan of action and surprisingly, instead of encouraging him to get ready for battle, he exhorts him to adorn the city and to open the gates. The assurance was that the priest should meet the king and fear nothing as ‘God was watching over them’.119 In addition to the miraculous salvation and the status of the Jews as the people of Almighty God, Josephus’ narrative emphasizes the position of a one and true God above all others and His power to direct the course of the past and the present. In the narrative, the king greets the high priest before being greeted by him. After seeing the high priest’s purple and scarlet clothing and the mitre on which the name of God is engraved, Alexander realizes that he has seen a representative of the true God. Josephus refers to the Tetragrammaton120 twice and makes Alexander prostrate (προσκύνησις) before the golden plate on which the Name was written. The passage propagates the idea that even the great king himself was ready to prostrate before the true God.121 In the narrative, the king’s companions, the ruler of Syria and others, start to wonder why Alexander acts differently towards the high priest than he does in other instances. Parmenion approaches the king and inquires of him the reason for his unexpected reaction. In the Classical tradition, the conversation between Parmenion and Alexander appears several times in the narratives of Arrian, Curtius, and Plutarch.122 Josephus, aware of this tradition, uses it to propagate the truth of the Jewish religion. Alexander answers: “It was not before him that I prostrated myself but the God of whom he has the honor to be high priest.”123 Then Alexander explains that he had a dream at Dion in Macedonia in which this very person was exhorting him to not delay but to start the campaign against the Persians: “He urged me not to hesitate but to cross over confidently, for he himself would lead my army and give over to me the empire of the Persians.”124 So he tells Parmenion that he undertook the expedition under divine guidance. In the Alexander corpus, the image of the king turning to several gods and asking their oracles for guidance was also common. Josephus adjusts this topos to show the true nature of the Hebrews’ Almighty God and their status as His people. As mentioned above, Josephus’ Jewish Antiquities was an apologetic work addressed to a Gentile audience.125 Josephus wanted to present Jewish beliefs
184 Alexander in Christian apologia and practices in a favorable light. The Classical tales of Alexander enabled him to create a sequel to the biblical events in the narrative of the Jewish Antiquities. God would continually protect his people if the nation followed his laws and maintained their religious duties. The nation’s rulers should trust in his abilities to free his people in the present, too. Even though the temple had been destroyed and the priestly class had been annihilated at the time when Josephus wrote his work, the reason for this destruction was considered the wrongdoings of the Jewish people against their God, who had previously protected them.126 Several surviving post-Josephus Jewish texts with a religious function also included the king’s visit to Jerusalem. In the rabbinic texts, Alexander does not show any special veneration towards God but does show respect to the high priest, here named Simeon the Righteous.127 In the Jewish version of the Alexander Romance (the gamma recension), the religious manifestation of the Jewish religion and its God is more straightforward than in the rabbinic texts or even in Josephus’ passage.128 The discussion between the king and the priest goes as follows: “Tell me, what god do you worship? I have never seen priests of any of our gods dressed like this.” “We serve one god,” the priest replied, “who made heaven and earth and all that is visible and invisible. No mortal man can discover him.” “You are worthy priests of the true god,” responded Alexander. “Go in peace. Your god shall be my god and my peace shall be with you. I shall not treat you as I have done the other nations, because you are servants of the living God.”129 There are several biblical allusions in the passage, such as the definition of the one and only true God who made heaven and earth. This epithet not only appears in the famous first verse of Genesis but also in several other biblical passages. Alexander’s response resembles Ruth’s – a non-Israeli Moabite who was a ready convert to Judaism.130 In addition, Alexander uses the concept of the ‘living God’, which appears often in the Hebrew Bible, and verbatim (θεὸς ζῶν) in the Septuagint.131 In the Jewish version of the Alexander Romance, the king’s visit is linked to the general story. It was probably composed by someone belonging to the Jewish community in Alexandria. The Jewish versions of Alexander’s visit demonstrate an eagerness to maintain a desired and (for them) favorable interpretation of the past. The mighty Alexander showing respect to Almighty God had a propagandistic value. Even Alexander the Great was forced to recognize the Jews’ special position as His people. While other nations were subdued and their gods were unable to save them, the Jews still enjoyed support from the one true God. The tale created an image of ‘us’, God’s chosen people, and ‘others’, all other peoples. The Jewish concept of a people elected by God was continued by early Christian communities and by the early Christian Church. The early Christians defined themselves as the direct continuators in the service of the God of Israel, and this
Alexander in Christian apologia 185 self-definition promoted the Christian Church as the new Nation of God chosen by the Almighty.132 In addition, the history of the Jewish people and its prophecies (especially those dealing with Christ) was important for Christian selfidentification, since the Christians claimed they were the rightful inheritors of the Jewish tradition.133 The history of the Jewish people preceded the rise of Christianity and was therefore also part of the Christians’ cultural memory and perception of the divine past. For the Christian writers of Antiquity, and especially those of the Middle Ages, Josephus was an important and oft-cited source. Josephus depicted a biblical past that the Christians adopted as part of their shared past.134 Unsurprisingly, the story of Alexander’s visit to Jerusalem was known to Christian writers. Their interest in the story of Alexander’s visit was not just antiquarian: it offered material for them to demonstrate their present status as the people of Almighty God and to remove that status from the contemporary Jews. An important manifestation of the Christian usage of Alexander’s visit appears in Origen’s eight books Against Celsus, composed during the years 245–248. The work was written as a response to Celsus’ On the true doctrine, and its intended audience included both pagans and Christians who were ‘weak in faith’.135 One of Celsus’ main charges was that Christianity was a ‘new religion’ and that it could not be true because ‘ancient’ is synonymous with ‘wise’.136 In other words, Christianity had no real roots in the past. In addition, Celsus criticized Christianity for apostasy towards Judaism.137 Origen tried to prove Celsus’ accusations false by showing that Christianity was the logical climax of Judaism, and that it was not a ‘new religion’ in a negative sense.138 In the fifth book, Origen addresses Celsus’ opinion that the Jews being favored by God or regarded by him with more affection than other peoples is improbable. In the passage, Origen uses Alexander’s visit to Jerusalem as a proof that God had not abandoned the nation and that it continued to enjoy the protection of divine power.139 And because they [Jews] were in favour with God, they were not abandoned by Him; but although few in number, they continued to enjoy the protection of the divine power, so that in the reign of Alexander of Macedon they sustained no injury from him, although they refused, on account of certain covenants and oaths, to take up arms against Darius.140 These are not the words of someone whose interest is mere antiquarian curiosity. Here Origen demonstrates, even more directly than Josephus does, that Alexander’s visit should be considered a mark of God’s protection and favor. In addition, he makes reference to Alexander’s obeisance before the high priest and his dream. Alexander’s visit indicates that God has favored the Jewish people in particular. In the following passage, Origen relates the Jewish past to the Christian past. He adds that ‘we Christians’ think that these people (the Jews) enjoyed God’s favor and that they were loved by him in a way different from others. In other words,
186 Alexander in Christian apologia the Jews were previously the people of Almighty God. Yet in the next sentence Origen claims: But that economy of things and this divine favor were transferred to us, after Jesus had conveyed the power which had been manifested among the Jews to those who had become converts to Him from among the heathen.141 Origen speaks about a change in status, the transfer of God’s affection and favor from the Jews to the Christians. As a proof of this, Origen refers to the many failed attempts the Romans had made to exterminate them. According to Origen, a ‘divine hand’ fought on behalf of the Christians, because it was God’s desire that his word should spread from the land of Judea to the whole human race.142 Louis H. Feldman argues that, in Origen’s mind, there was continuity between the Christians and their Jewish forebears.143 I would also see the linking of the history of the Jews with the Christian present (Origen’s era) as a means of creating a great common story. By relating the salvation history of the Jews to Christian selfidentification, the latter could show that they did not belong to a ‘new religion’ lacking a solid and tested foundation. Origen’s work was about strengthening and creating a direct continuity in the course of events. It was first the Jews, but then in Origen’s days the Christians, who enjoyed God’s special favor, affection, and protection.144 In referring to Alexander’s visit to Jerusalem, Origen followed a very similar rhetorical strategy as Josephus had in his Jewish Antiquities some 200 years earlier. After Origen, we encounter the story of Alexander’s visit in the world chronicles of Jerome and Isidore of Seville.145 In addition, Jerome makes a reference to the visit in his commentary on Daniel when he compares the reaction of the Babylonian king Nebuchadnezzar to Alexander’s.146 According to Jerome, Nebuchadnezzar started to worship the God who had revealed the holy secrets, just like Alexander, who obeyed God in front of the Jewish high priest.147 From Jerome’s passage, we can see how the visit could still be used as proof of God’s omnipotence over worldly rulers and kings. However, in The city of God, Augustine deliberately rejects the positive evidentiary value of Alexander’s visit and the argumentative strategy used by previous Jewish and Christian writers. In contrast to Origen, who intended to demonstrate the existence of a continuum between the Jews and Christians as the people of Almighty God, Augustine tries to invalidate the argument that Alexander’s visit gave indications of God’s protection or that he showed genuine respect towards God. The reference to Alexander’s visit to Jerusalem occurs in the second part of the work, where Augustine develops a history of the salvation of Christianity.148 The purpose of the passage is to prove that the Jewish nation became worse after its liberation from captivity in Babylon (539 BC) and after the rebuilding of the temple.149 Augustine intends to show his readers that the period after the rebuilding of the temple was meant to be a period in which the Jews were affected by plagues and rapacious foreign kings. He distinguishes this age from the previous biblical epoch during which God showed protection towards his people.
Alexander in Christian apologia 187 Augustine emphasizes the ‘miserable’ course of Jewish history after the Babylonian captivity. When Augustine addresses the period of Alexander, he presents the king’s visit to Jerusalem in a way that suits this overall argumentation. He does not deny that the event took place and admits that the Jews did not suffer any pillaging at the hands of the Macedonians. However, the incident itself did not symbolize God’s protection: On the arrival of Alexander, it [the temple/Jerusalem] was subjugated, though not at all ravaged, since they did not dare to resist him, and consequently found him mild of mood when they welcomed him after yielding most readily; yet the glory of that house was not so great as it had been when governed by its own independent kings. Alexander sacrificed victims, to be sure, in the temple of God, not because he had been converted to God’s worship by true piety [vera pietate], but because he thought in his impious folly [impia vanitate] that God should be worshipped along with the false gods.150 Noteworthy are the reasons given for this favorable treatment. Jews were spared destruction because they did not dare resist Alexander. Augustine’s implication is clear: it was not because of God’s protection that the Jewish people received benign treatment. Rather, being aware of the positive tradition surrounding the visit, Augustine presents Alexander as an ungodly king and as a worshipper of false gods, without any references to the king’s pleas to God. The main interest of Augustine’s passage is in the role of the temple. In the common tradition, Alexander offered a sacrifice to God in the temple and showed deep respect towards the high priest representing the true God. However, according to Augustine, the king’s action was not motivated by vera pietate but impia vanitate. In addition, Augustine comments that Alexander was only attaching yet another god to his pantheon, not converting to the one true God or accepting His position as such among other insignificant and false gods. With these remarks, Augustine rejects the view that Alexander showed any special religious or proper respect towards the true God. Augustine wrote about 200 years after Origen, in a world where the Christians’ position had changed radically. In his time, Christianity had grown from its ‘mother religion’ and the validity of Christianity and the power of the Christian Church did not need to be explained with the assistance of the biblical history of the Jews as the people of Almighty God. This situation probably motivated him to reject the argumentative strategy that Josephus (in relation to the Jewish people) and Origen had exploited. Instead, he deliberately aimed to strip the anecdote of any holy connotations to prove the veracity of the argument that the prophecies about the restoration of the temple referred to a spiritual temple. The contemporary and disciple of Augustine, Orosius, did not make any reference to Alexander’s visit to Jerusalem in his world history. Orosius’ conscious choice to omit the story can be explained by his strategy. It was probably not important to mention an incident that had been referred to ‘positively’ by previous Christian writers. After Orosius, Alexander’s visit and its positive connotations
188 Alexander in Christian apologia remained in the texts of Christian chronicles and accounts written in the Middle Ages, both in Byzantium and in Latin Europe.151 The lasting image of Alexander as an instrument of God’s providence and as a tool in the self-identification of the Christians highlights the popularity of the ideologically motivated past. In religious terms, Josephus’ account of Alexander’s visit to Jerusalem served to clarify that the Jewish people enjoyed Divine providence and protection. In Josephus’ and the Jewish version of the Alexander Romance, the story was in line with the shared biblical past and with the religious outlook of the Hebrew Bible. The legendary visit was used to proclaim the veracious nature of God and to define the Jewish God as real as opposed to the gods of the Gentiles. Later, Origen accepted the same argumentative strategy, but in the Christian version stress was laid on the shift of providence from the Jews to the Christians. According to Origen, the Jews who lived during the age of Alexander obtained the status of the people of Almighty God, but later lost it to Christian groups. Augustine offered a slightly different interpretation and rejected the idea of a God protecting the Jews with the assistance of Alexander. At the same time, he also dismissed the possibility that the king understood the power and validity of the one true God. By the time of Augustine, Christianity was the strongest religion in the Empire and had state support, and the Christian elite no longer needed to justify its position in the Roman Empire by using pro-Jewish works, nor did it need to prove the antiquity of its history and continuity as it did in the days of Origen. The Christians did not need to stress that God’s favor had shifted from the Jews to them, but instead needed to act like a well-established group, favored by God, in which the Jewish past was a mere prelude to their era and the events of ancient Israelite history were turned into allegories of Christ’s activities and conflicts. Of primary importance to writers like Augustine was the association of the Roman Empire’s sociocultural traditions with those created by the Church. During the reigns of Constantine and Theodosius, the Church wanted to gain and protect its leading position in society by demanding a status at least equal to that which the state-sponsored traditional religion had previously enjoyed. In this climate, Augustine developed a theology of God’s State and its history differing from that of the earlier Christian argumentative strategy expressed by Origen. Therefore, it is not surprising that Christian authors also presented and reused Jewish non-biblical history differently. We could consider Augustine’s negative interpretation of the visit to Jerusalem episode in the light of the anti-Judaism which had its representatives in the Christian tradition. As the Christians gained higher status in Roman society, they separated themselves more and more from the Jewish tradition. The tale of Alexander’s visit to Jerusalem was an historical exemplum that was adjusted according the writers’ purposes. The anecdote of the Macedonian king’s visit to Jerusalem could be used as evidence for the divine protection of the Jews and as an indicator that the Jews were the favored people of Almighty God, but when this argument was not regarded as useful for an author, he altered or rejected it. The writers’ main concern was not to promote a given attitude towards Alexander as a ‘pagan’ king but to proclaim the actions of God on behalf of his people, or, as in Augustine’s case, to dismiss this interpretation as a misunderstanding.
Alexander in Christian apologia 189
A proof of Daniel In this subchapter, I examine how Christian writers exploited Alexander’s role in the Book of Daniel: How and why were the ‘Danielic Alexander’ and the king’s famous conquests exploited in Christian texts? In what ways did the Jewish material, divergent from the Classical tradition about Alexander, serve a rhetorical purpose in early Christian texts? In my analysis, I first introduce the reception of the Book of Daniel and then examine why Christian writers used a ‘Danielic Alexander’ in their argumentation. God’s ability to see the future and to reveal what would happen next to his servants was an important part of Judeo-Christian religious thinking. The biblical books, inspired by God’s will, were especially important for the religious thought and self-identification of Jews and Christians. In Judeo-Christian theology, the past, the present, and the future were revealed in the books of the prophets. The Book of Daniel in particular enjoyed great respect among Jewish and Christian writers and exerted an impact on the ways that the past was understood as a manifestation of God’s power.152 The Book of Daniel belongs to the Hebrew canon of the Old Testament and is included in the Septuagint. It is arguably one of the most influential books in the Old Testament. Since the early 20th century, scholars have dated the Book of Daniel to the early Maccabean era, and have viewed it as a collection of imaginative tales and visions that reflect the fears and hopes of the Jews in the Hellenistic era.153 The view that the Book of Daniel was composed during the persecutions of the Jews by Antiochus IV was originally promoted by the third-century Neoplatonist Porphyry.154 According to the traditional view of Jews and Christians, the Book of Daniel was written in the sixth century BC and predicted later events.155 In the Jewish literary tradition, the first and second books of 1 and 2 Maccabees allude to Daniel, and in his Jewish Antiquities Josephus calls Daniel ‘one of the greatest prophets whose memory will live eternally’.156 Early Christian writers adopted this interpretation and viewed the Book of Daniel as the work of a real prophet who lived in the times of Babylonia and Persia, and not as a later composition. We already meet early references to the Book in the canonical gospels of Matthew and Mark.157 For Christian writers, the significance of Daniel’s prophecies was particularly attached to the prophecy of Christ’s birth and to the destruction of the Temple of Jerusalem.158 Since the Book of Daniel possessed a high value as true prophecy among Jews and early Christians, it became part of the debate between intellectual pagans and Christian apologetic writers. One of the most famous critics of Daniel was mentioned above: the Neoplatonic philosopher Porphyry (234–305), who attacked the Book of Daniel in his twelfth book Against the Christians.159 Either under Emperor Diocletian’s orders or simply motivated by Diocletian’s political program to defend Roman traditional religion, Porphyry attacked the Christian doctrine and its justification by means of exegetical questions and literary problems. Against the Christians questioned both Hebrew and Greek scriptures.160 Porphyry attested that the Book of Daniel was not to be read as a prophecy of the future but
190 Alexander in Christian apologia as a history of events taking place in the author’s own time. He argued that the Book was written in the second century BC as a reaction to the persecutions of the Jews under Antiochus IV.161 This rejection of Daniel’s prophecies inspired several Christian apologetics, and the role of the Danielic Alexander must be considered against this cultural background, as the Book of Daniel was often the object of controversy. The Book of Daniel has a dual structure: narrative episodes, and sections that describe visions and dreams. Attention is primarily focused on prophetic and apocalyptic visions. In the Book, the principal character, Daniel, has divine visions, and can interpret the dreams and signs of others. Many of the portents and prophetic dreams concern rising kingdoms, the mysterious course of history, and God’s people. God reveals information about the future through his prophet, who interprets the visions and dreams of the Babylonian rulers. In the work, rulers or kingdoms are not named, but the predictions are filled with metaphorical and symbolical language. The prophecies about world powers and their manifestations are replete with Messianic references and predictions. In the Jewish and Christian tradition, Alexander is portrayed in the four visions of the Book of Daniel and their interpretations: Alexander appears in the vision of a great statue made from different metals; in the vision of the four beasts, as a four-winged leopard; in the vision of a victorious and suddenly vanishing he-goat; and as a one of the kings in the apocalyptic struggle between the ‘Southern’ and ‘Northern’ kings.162 In the Jewish Antiquities Josephus wrote: The goat, he said, indicated that there would be a certain king of the Greeks who would encounter the Persian king twice in battle and defeat him and take over all his empire. The great horn in the forehead of the goat indicated the first king.163 In the narrative depicting Alexander’s legendary visit to Jerusalem, the Book of Daniel is again included in the description. Its prophecy is linked to Alexander, who is overjoyed at the prophecy: And when the book of Daniel was shown him, in which he had declared that one of the Greeks would destroy the empire of the Persians, he believed himself to be the one indicated; and in his joy he dismissed the multitude for the time being.164 In the passage, the Book of Daniel is depicted as having existed during the reign of Alexander. In Josephus’ text, the high priest was aware of the prophecy, which had foretold that a certain ‘Greek’ would crush the Persian Empire, and the king was more than willing to associate the prophecy with his expedition. On this evidence, Josephus wanted to link the prophecy of the Book of Daniel with Alexander’s success. This perspective appears also in the works of various early Christian writers. There are two surviving commentaries on Daniel composed by them. The first is the commentary of Hippolytus (170–236) and the second is Jerome’s longer work
Alexander in Christian apologia 191 (347–420). These two commentaries give us good insight into the early Christian interpretations of Alexander’s place in the Danielic prophecies. Christian scholars generally agreed on the verses that referred to Alexander’s kingdom. In Daniel’s first vision there appeared a statue made from gold, silver, bronze (copper), and iron. These materials represented different kingdoms in the commentaries of both Hippolytus and Jerome. In the seventh chapter, a similar vision is described, with four different beasts portraying four different kingdoms. Hippolytus and Jerome both explained that the third empire, represented by bronze, and the third beast, the leopard with four wings, represented the empires of Alexander and his successors.165 Again in the eight chapter of the book, the prophet sees a vision in which a two-horned ram is defeated by a goat. Hippolytus and Jerome interpret this scene as a vision of the battle between Darius III, the ‘two-horned ram’, and Alexander, the ‘he-goat’. Furthermore, when Daniel speaks of the rival kings in the eleventh chapter, ‘the rising strong king’ is interpreted as Alexander by both commentators. At the beginning of his commentary, Jerome refers to Porphyry, who had questioned the Book’s authenticity. Jerome states that Eusebius of Caesarea, Apollinarius, and Methodius had already written a response to Porphyry’s accusations. Therefore, his main interest was in interpreting the content of the prophet’s message ‘for the benefit of us who are Christians’. According to Jerome, a remarkable indicator of ‘this benefit’ was the fact that Daniel had clearly been spoken to by Christ and had even predicted the very time at which Christ would come.166 In the last section of the prologue, Jerome lists many pagan authors, like Callinicus, Diodorus, and Polybius, and explains the reason why he makes reference to these pagan historians: In order to prove that those things which were foretold by the holy prophets many centuries before are actually contained in the written records of both Greeks and Romans and of other peoples as well.167 Jerome’s ‘detailed investigation of Greek history’ served to prove that Daniel had already accurately foretold what the Classical historians had afterwards confirmed.168 Similarly, the career and reign of Alexander, already well-known in the Classical world, proved that the biblical prophecies were veracious and valid for both pagans and Christians. Jerome analyzes the Book of Daniel’s symbolic language in such a way as to show the accuracy of Daniel’s prophetic visions. According to Jerome, bronze fittingly represented Alexander’s empire because it has an outstanding resonance and a clear ring, and the blast of the bronze trumpet can be heard far and wide. It signified not only the fame ( fama) and power ( potentia) of the empire, but also the eloquence of the Greek language.169 When Jerome reaches the seventh chapter, he explains to his audience that Alexander was compared to a leopard because of its cunning (velocissimae), its impetuosity (Jerome uses the Greek word hormetikos), and its tactic of charging headlong and killing its enemy with a single bound.170 Then he states that Alexander won his empire and all his battles
192 Alexander in Christian apologia in a short time. There has never been any victory won as quickly as Alexander’s when he marched all the way from Illyricum and the Adriatic Sea to the Indian Ocean and the Ganges River. He lists the places and mentions that Alexander conquered a part of Europe and the whole of Asia in the space of only six years. The four heads of the leopard signify the four generals who rose up to become his successors.171 Furthermore, in the visions of the two-horned ram (Persian Empire) and the he-goat (Alexander), the fact that the he-goat did not ‘touch the ground’ referred to Alexander’s extraordinary speed of conquest. In the same way, the fact that the he-goat broke the ram’s two horns, the Medes and the Persians, signified that Alexander subjected both these horns and their areas of dominance. In chapter 10, Alexander is again interpreted as the ‘Prince of the Greeks’ and in chapter 11, where the series of various kings of the South and North are presented, Alexander appears as the ‘strong king’. In Jerome’s presentation, it was proper to call Alexander the ‘Prince of the Greeks’, and not the Macedonians, because he had been the first to overthrow Greece and subject her to his power and then take up arms against the Persians. Jerome’s interpretations were designed to convince his audience how clear, apposite, and detailed Daniel’s symbolic language was. According to Jerome, the depiction of Alexander’s career as bronze and a four-winged leopard in the prophecies had a clear purpose, in that they were best suited to portray the Macedonian king and his empire. Jerome’s narrative is no mere description of the prophecy, but a rhetorical exploration. The most important aspect of it, however, (as in the case of every other prophecy) was not the detail of what Alexander would do, but to declare the greatness of God. Jerome states the reason for Alexander’s remarkable accomplishments: “Not from the bravery of Alexander but from the will of God.”172 In the Judeo-Christian context, the great achievements and popularity of the Macedonian king were subordinate to Christian belief in God’s plan for mankind. We also find the proclamation of the power of God through the Danielic Alexander elsewhere in early Christian texts. An example is Origen’s (184/5–254/5) Philocalia. Alexander appears in the passage where Origen deals with God’s ability to know every detail of the future long before it happens. Evidence for this can be found in the biblical prophecies and their fulfillment. First, Origen mentions the prophet Isaiah, who called Cyrus by name.173 Without knowing it, the king was the tool of God who worked for the sake of God’s people. In addition, Origen mentions the passages from Daniel about the statue and its different metals representing future world empires. Origen directly quotes the passage about the ram and the he-goat, which refers to the battle between Darius and Alexander.174 After the Book of Daniel, Origen refers to Messianic prophecies which, in his presentation, are clear ‘signs of the foreknowledge of God’.175 As in Jerome’s work, history is used to emphasize the omnipotence of God and the unique status of the biblical books.176 The reason for the positive approach to Alexander’s career becomes clear in the way Jerome introduces the king to his audience in the preface of the Life of
Alexander in Christian apologia 193 Hilarion. In this biography of the founder of the ascetics, Jerome refers to the anecdote about Alexander weeping in front of the tomb of Achilles. He not only calls the king by name, as ‘Alexander the Great of Macedon’, but also adds the epithets ‘bronze’, ‘leopard’, and ‘he-goat’ and presents them as ‘spoken (vocare) by Daniel’.177 This passage shows that Jerome wanted to remind his readers of the biblical role of Alexander. In other words, this is not just about Alexander the Great, but about an individual who clarified the prophet’s ability to foretell the future, or to put it another way, it is about the power of God.178 Sometimes the interpretations of biblical prophecies, and especially those linked with Alexander, were directly linked to contemporary political events. In the Fifth instruction on wars, Aphrahat, a Christian ascetic and ‘Persian sage’, was especially concerned with Daniel’s prophecies.179 The work was influenced by the political situation at the time when it was written, when the Sassanid ruler Shapur II (r. 309–379) prepared his war against the Roman Empire. Aphrahat lived in the western part of the Sassanid Empire. We know that in 344, Shapur II began persecuting the Christians, and this might have influenced the writing of this work.180 Aphrahat approaches the threat of the contemporary conflict (or discusses the persecution of the Christians in the Sassanid Empire) by using Daniel’s visions. The aim of the work, written in Syriac, was to reassure its audience that even though the outcome of a potential war between Rome and the Persian Sassanid Empire was as yet unknown, everything would happen according to God’s plans, and thus believers would suffer no eternal harm because the course of events was in God’s hands. Alexander and his conquest of Persia shows how God’s word was fulfilled in the past. Alexander humbled the ram (Persian Empire) completely.181Aphrahat calculates that 648 years had gone by since the two horns (Medes and Persians) of the ram were destroyed by the he-goat (Alexander). In the narrative, Alexander’s conquest is a soothing testimony for the Christians of Persia, who should know that the future will happen according to the path that God has already traced out in accordance with His will. The main biblical statement of the work is that everyone who glorifies himself shall be humbled.182 This was intended to provide comfort to Aphrahat’s fellow believers, who may have pondered questions, like “Had the time come for the fourth beast, Rome, to fall?”, and “What would happen if Shapur achieved victory over the Roman Empire, and would this cause more persecution for the Christians?” Therefore, it is tempting to argue that the passage was not just about predicting the future but also about showing that Christians in the present were supposed to be confident and optimistic about the future. The fulfilled prophecies of the past, like that of Alexander’s victory over the Persians, proved that everything was still in God’s hands, and that the Son of Man would soon establish His eternal kingdom.183 Often one Christian author used the Danielic Alexander for different purposes. We know of two homilies by John Chrysostom in which the prophecy about Alexander is used as part of a divergent argumentative strategy. In the fifth Homily, Chrysostom intends to show his audience that the Jews will not see their temple rebuilt and that they have no defense for their present practices.184 He tries to
194 Alexander in Christian apologia prove that God accurately predicted the unpleasant things that the Jews faced, frequently underlining that Daniel foretold the course of events that led from the reign of Alexander to the capture and despoiling of the temple by Antiochus Epiphanes. Chrysostom’s interpretation differs from that of some other ecclesiastical writers, who depicted the goat’s ‘strong horn’ as Antiochus Epiphanes.185 Others saw the horn as Alexander, but Chrysostom here refers to the Seleucid king, who notoriously persecuted the Jews and provoked the revolt of the Maccabees. This interpretation suits his overall theme, since his perspective is anti-Judaic, an attempt to demonstrate that the Jews have lost their favored position before God. The passage implies that since these disasters for the Jews were permitted by God, He has obviously abandoned them and given the Christians their former status as His people. As Alexander’s successor, the Seleucid king Antiochus continued Alexander’s mission as the ‘horn’ of the he-goat. In this presentation, the persecution of the Jewish people was predicted by God and the reigns of Alexander and Antiochus were part of His plan.186 Daniel’s and Alexander’s visions became part of Chrysostom’s reasoning to convince his readership of the Jews’ proper position. At the same time, it was intended to provide his fellow Christians with argumentative strategies against the Jews and the representatives of the traditional Roman religion. In the Homilies on 1. Thessalonians (1–11), Chrysostom uses the positive legacy of Alexander, as a king prophesied by Daniel, as a strategy to build an advantageous relationship with the local parishioners. Chrysostom starts his sermon by referring to Paul’s praise of the congregation in Thessalonica, whose strong faith had become well-known in Macedonia and Achaia.187 Chrysostom remarks that Paul’s statement was not exaggerated and then discusses the Macedonian nation’s fame and its renowned past. By making reference to Daniel, he reminds his readers how the Macedonian king’s actions acquired praise, since he came from a small city and subdued the world: Wherefore also the Prophet saw him, a winged leopard, showing his swiftness, his vehemence, his fiery nature, his suddenly in a manner flying over the whole world with the trophies of his victory.188 After referring to Daniel, he quotes the famous anecdote of the ‘infinite worlds’, in which Alexander groaned on hearing from a philosopher that infinite worlds existed and that he had not yet conquered any of them.189 Sometimes this anecdote was used to cast Alexander’s ambition and vainglory in a negative light. Nevertheless, John Chrysostom praises Alexander by describing him as a ‘high-minded’ (μεγαλόφρων) and ‘high-souled’ (μεγαλόψυχος) king who was celebrated everywhere. He remarks that with the help of Alexander’s fame the Macedonian nation kept apace.190 In this passage, John Chrysostom uses the legacy of Alexander as a proof of the biblical statement. At the same time, he tries to appeal to his audience’s feelings: he encourages them to imitate the remarkable achievements of their Christian and
Alexander in Christian apologia 195 non-Christian predecessors. The prophesied king is set up as a model for his fellow Christians living in Thessalonica. They should be aware of their past and of how it relates to biblical prophecies. Alexander’s role in the Book of Daniel was an important argumentative strategy serving to define the Christian doctrine as the vera religio compared to traditional culture. Before the Christians, Jewish writers had already adopted the Danielic Alexander as part of their self-identification. The Macedonian conqueror’s miraculous achievements demonstrated that Daniel, who foretold many things that had happened after his time, was a genuine prophet. On the grounds of this evidence, the Jewish nation claimed that it maintained a special relationship with the one God, who could reveal the mysteries of the future. A similar argumentative strategy was adopted by the Christians, who made the legacy of the Danielic Alexander their own cultural possession. Referring to Alexander’s role in the Book of Daniel was also a defense of the testimonial value of the biblical book itself. The conquests of the Macedonian king, depicted as a four-headed leopard or a he-goat, demonstrated why the critics of Christianity and the Scriptures were wrong. The Book of Daniel and its image of Alexander gave Christian writers rhetorical possibilities that the Classical material did not. Its positive image of Alexander’s career was based on different arguments than those of Greek writers of the Early Empire like Plutarch and Arrian. The figure of Alexander was well-known and often referred to in the previous Classical tradition. Mostly, Alexander’s reign and career in the context of the Book of Daniel was used by the Christian writers as a proof of the truthfulness of God, the Bible, and Christian doctrine. Alexander’s career and quick success manifested the qualities of the one true God, who was thought to be the supreme controller of all men and all nations. According to Christian self-identification, the gods of the pagans did not have the ability to foretell the future or to inform their prophets of what would happen next. Daniel’s presumed foreknowledge of Alexander’s conquests was a proof of the superiority of the Christian worldview. With the legacy of the Danielic Alexander, Christians could strengthen their faith in God and be successful in intellectual theological debates against the representatives of traditional religions, in the hope of finding new converts.
Sed quid profuit? – The pagan king and his controversial fame It is arguable that presentations of the past are also interpretations of the present. In this subchapter, I deal with critical presentations of Alexander’s career and fame composed by Christian authors such as Arnobius, Eusebius, John Chrysostom, Augustine, Orosius, and Fulgentius. In the previous subchapters, Alexander was presented in the context of providence and divine prophecy. However, this section concerns early Christian texts in which Alexander’s legacy was treated extremely critically and from which any holy connotations of his reign were removed. Roman writers like Cicero, Seneca, and Lucan had already offered critical presentations of Alexander’s reign and personality in their philosophical texts.191 In their works, the language of destruction and damage highlighted the king’s dubious
196 Alexander in Christian apologia motivations and portrayed him as an insatiable and warmongering conqueror. The use of similarly critical language appears in Christian writers’ texts. How and why did Christian writers exploit the rhetorical techniques previously used in the politically and philosophically oriented Latin texts of the Early Empire? As we have seen, in the literature of the Early Empire it was common to compare Alexander to successful Romans. In this discourse, Alexander’s lack of certain qualities served to highlight the superiority of Rome and its generals. A similar comparison can be found in works of the Christian writers of the fourth century. Two of these were Eusebius of Caesarea’s (ca. 265–340) Life of Constantine and John Chrysostom’s (ca. 345–407) 26th Homily. The first compares Alexander to Emperor Constantine, and the second places Alexander and Christ side by side. These comparisons should be regarded as ideological interpretations of the present to create a deliberate image of the Roman Empire ruled by Christians. In the Life of Constantine, Eusebius, Constantine’s contemporary, presents the emperor as an ideal leader whose regime was part of God’s plan for the salvation of the Church. The work, described as a mixture of panegyric and narrative history, was probably left unfinished and unrevised when Eusebius died in 339.192 In the rhetoric of Eusebius, the emperor’s conversion was the goal for which the Church and the Empire had been striving. Basically, it was God Himself who raised Constantine to save the Christians from their persecutors.193 Constantine’s rise to power represented the culmination of all the struggles of the Christians over the previous three centuries. In the preface to the work, Eusebius praises the emperor and compares him to Cyrus, Alexander, and Moses.194 The setting itself resembles an Imperial panegyric, where comparisons with famous historical figures idealize the emperor. In the passage, Eusebius questions the king’s undisputed fame in the Classical tradition. He reflects on how many ‘sons of Greece’ celebrate Alexander’s deeds, but also on the king’s death before he even reached maturity because of revelry and drunken orgies.195 In the same passage, Alexander is characterized as ‘a man like a thunderbolt’ for enslaving nations and cities.196 Eusebius juxtaposes Alexander and Constantine and draws a comparison which resembles Tacitus’s passage on Germanicus.197 He reminds his readers that death took Alexander when he was in a foreign and hostile land, childless and homeless.198 Without explicitly mentioning it, Eusebius compares Alexander’s fate to Constantine’s. Constantine died in Nicomedia, which was near the capital. Constantine had many sons and he had a successor in his third son, Constantius II, who became emperor in 337. Above all else, when Constantine died, he had been baptized and thus his state at the time of death was far more elevated than that of Alexander.199 Next, Eusebius lists features of Constantine’s reign and measures them against Alexander’s career. According to Eusebius, Constantine offered the eastern nations care and holy light, not slavery and outrage.200 In Eusebius’ passage, Alexander did not simply serve to emphasize the emperor’s greatness but also served to justify Eusebius’ biography before an audience containing Christians and representatives of the traditional Roman religion.201 With this comparison, Eusebius
Alexander in Christian apologia 197 implicitly asks: Why admire the pagan past and its praised heroes, since they are inferior to the Christian present and its advocates? The passage was about proclaiming the superiority of the Empire in which formerly persecuted Christians now operated in the Imperial court and received Imperial posts. For Eusebius, the present state of the Empire was the best possible, and the position that the Christians enjoyed should be praised. By creating an image of the past, Eusebius created an image of the present as a much more cultivated and moral place than it was under the reigns of previous (pagan) rulers. Another attack on the prestige and fame of Alexander is made in John Chrysostom’s 26th Homily.202 Chrysostom compares Alexander’s godly status with that of the resurrected Christ. The comparison served to proclaim the superiority of Christian ideology above the rival traditional ideologies. In the passage, Chrysostom tries to show that the great valuation of Alexander is groundless in relation to Christ’s achievements revealed in the present. Here, Chrysostom compares the legacies of Christ and Alexander. According to Chrysostom, Alexander’s fame as a god is fiercely defended by the pagans, but when one stands up for the resurrection of Christ, laughter immediately follows. Yet ‘the whole world proclaims’ that Christ was resurrected both in the past by miracles and now by the number of converts. For Chrysostom, the success of Christianity is a proof that Christ is not just a ‘dead man’. In contrast, there are no alleged miracles proving that Alexander as a god still lives. Chrysostom writes: And Alexander indeed after his decease never restored again his kingdom which had been rent in pieces and quite abolished: indeed, how was it likely he, dead, should do so? But Christ then most of all set up his after he was dead.203 The posthumous reputations of Alexander’s and Christ’s lives are compared. The fragmentation of the Macedonian’s empire was taken as a proof that he was not able to create a state which would last after his death. Chrysostom writes that, on the contrary, Christ had arranged for his kingdom to survive after he died. The present success of the Christian religion is mentioned as a sign of its truthfulness. Chrysostom adds: And why speak I of Christ? Seeing that he granted to his disciples also, after their deaths to shine? For, tell me, where is the tomb of Alexander? Show it me and tell me the day on which he died.204 Chrysostom’s passage has to be put into the sociocultural context of the late fourth century when Christ’s tomb was supposedly discovered and had become an object of pilgrimage. References to Alexander’s tomb as a popular pilgrimage destination disappear from literature, and this could be related to the cultural change in which the Christianized Empire discovered its new shrines and holy places. The tomb of Alexander, a famous landmark of the city of Alexandria, was replaced by Christ’s tomb, located in the holy city of Jerusalem.205 The passage above is part
198 Alexander in Christian apologia of Chrysostom’s argumentative strategy, in which the legacy of the pagan past is replaced by Christianity and its glorious heroes. Undoubtedly there were Christians who had preserved some practices of the pagan cults, like those related to the cult of Alexander. In fact, in another treatise, Ad illuminandos catechesis, John Chrysostom expressly warns against the temptations of using charms and amulets and of encircling heads and feet with golden coins of Alexander, and asks: “Are these our hopes that after the cross and death of our master, we should place our hopes of salvation on an image of a Greek king?”206 In Chrysostom’s view, although pagans use images of Alexander as amulets which they hope will bring them fortune, this custom should not be practiced among Christians, since it would amount to idolatry.207 In Chrysostom’s passages, the message was that contemporary Christians should understand the greatness of Christ above all pagan kings, especially when the fame and legacy of the Macedonian king was not justified.208 However, Christ is depicted by John Chrysostom as a ‘new’ Alexander who deserves respect and is truly divine.209 One thing that inspired the juxtaposition of the imperialism of the pagan past and the Christian present was the controversy over whether the Christianization of the Roman elites and the abandonment of traditional Roman cultic practices were the cause of misfortunes. Denunciation of the accusations against Christians appears in Arnobius’ Against the pagans, Augustine’s The city of God, and Orosius’ History against the pagans. Arnobius (who became a Christian in 295), who was a teacher of rhetoric and wrote in Latin, directed Against the pagans against those who blamed the Christians for the ruin of the world. All these works present a critical synopsis of Alexander’s reign, and argue against the pagan adulation of Alexander and his Roman warlord successors. In the first part of the work, Arnobius catalogues the famous incidents of the Greco-Roman past, such as the destruction of Atlantis, the Trojan War, the campaigns of Xerxes and Alexander, and Roman historical incidents. He asks if it was the Christians who caused these misfortunes. For instance, when it comes to the reign of Alexander, Arnobius asks: Did we produce and stir into action the causes, by reason of which one youth, starting from Macedonia, subjected the kingdoms and peoples of the East to captivity, and to bondage?210 The words ‘captivity’ (captivitas) and ‘bondage’ (servitium) are reminiscent of several passages from Seneca and Lucan.211 Here, Alexander’s expedition is not seen as a part of God’s prophecy, but rather as part of a campaign to enslave the peoples of the East. Alexander’s famous campaign is presented as the archetype of pagan rule in the apologetic context. No one in their right mind would blame the Christians for the action of one youth. Everybody knows it would be irrational. In fact, the non-Christian regimes of the past caused damage to themselves with their senseless imperialism, but Christians did not contribute to that development. A century after Arnobius, the old anti-Christian accusations were still raised by non-Christian intellectuals. In 410 Rome was conquered by the Visigoth army
Alexander in Christian apologia 199 of King Alaric. To the contemporary Christians it was a shock.212 However, the Christians had received a recognized and firm status in the Roman world during the fourth century. Roman emperors were now Christians (the reign of Julian being a short exception) and a growing number of officeholders espoused Christianity.213 In these texts, written after the sack of Rome in 410, the Christians not only defended themselves against the old accusations but created a particular image of the Roman pagan past in relation to the Christian order of things in the present. The construction of an image of the pagan past as an aspect of Christian selffashioning occurs in the fourth book of The city of God, in which Augustine discusses the nature of kingdoms without justice (iustitia). At the end of the third book, he writes about the Roman past but does not depict it as either just or pious, and then outlines those kingdoms that rule without justice. According to him, they are nothing but ‘bands of robbers’ (latrocinia).214 In predatory kingdoms, a prince ( princeps) governs by military authority (imperium) and later acquires territory, occupies cities, and subjugates peoples. In the next sentence, Augustine refers to the anecdote dealing with the conversation between a pirate commander and the Macedonian king. This anecdote was probably used in Cicero’s On the republic.215 Augustine praises the answer that the pirate gave Alexander, when the latter asked him what he was doing infesting the seas. The pirate replied: The same as you when you molest the world! Since I do this with a little ship I am called a pirate. You do it with a great fleet and are called an emperor (imperator).216 The passage offers a critical interpretation of the king’s imperialism, placed on the same level as piracy. This is remarkable, since pirates where hated and often harshly punished in the Roman world.217 Since Augustine had previously dealt critically with Roman history ‘in terms of regicide, patricide, matricide, fratricide’, Harding suggests that this passage should also be treated as an anti-Roman discourse.218 This interpretation also fits with Augustine’s use of imperator as Alexander’s title. By using this word, Augustine links Alexander and Rome, where the title was used both in the Republican period and by the emperors.219 The image of Alexander as the prototype for the unjust pagan ruler is a strategy by which the Roman pagan past, associated with the king, is depicted as a ‘great loss’, a time when unjust rulers governed the Empire. In Augustine’s argumentation, the Christian present symbolized the pursuit of the kingdom of justice (iustitia), which was his main theme in The city of God, and Christian civic order under the rule of its invisible ruler, Christ himself. Compared to The city of God, Orosius’ world history, entitled History against the pagans, presents even more of a systematized and bleak picture of pagan world history. One aim of the work was to show how pagan world history was much bloodier than the Christian present. The work was written as part of the Christian salvation story, which assumed a coherent form under the regimes of the Christian emperors. According to Orosius, Alexander’s deeds are an even better
200 Alexander in Christian apologia example of man’s misery (miseria) than those of his father, Philip. Frequently, when Orosius refers to Alexander’s wars, in which he claims 1,900,000 lives were wasted, he calls them evil (mala).220 In fact, no other figure receives such an overwhelmingly critical handling in the narrative than Alexander does. There are certain rhetorical techniques which enable Orosius to create a picture of a ferocious and violent Macedonian king. He systematically picks up on the negative details in the tradition and gives Alexander’s actions thoroughly disreputable motivations.221 All Alexander’s known misconduct, such as his ‘shameful’ assassinations of Cleitus and Callisthenes, is included in the account, with a strongly critical tone.222 For instance, Orosius qualifies the killing of Parmenion and Philotas as butchery.223 He then describes Alexander’s campaign as motivated by an ‘insatiable fury,’ while in another passage he speaks of Alexander’s unquenchable thirst for blood and how his desire for fresh gore never diminished.224 Alexander is given strongly negative epithets such as ‘bloodstained warlord’ and ‘enslaver of the East’.225 These phrases are even more extreme and provocative than those in Orosius’ critical descriptions of Semiramis and Romulus.226 The positive episodes that appear in the earlier tradition are usually omitted, but if they are included, their positivity is questioned.227 When Orosius recounts events like Alexander’s discovery of Darius’ dead body, he qualifies Alexander’s order to bury the dead king in the tomb of his ancestors as an ‘empty gesture of pity’. Similarly, Orosius omits to report Alexander’s act of mercy towards Darius’ mother, praised in the Classical tradition, and instead writes that she and Darius’ wife, and even his little daughters, were held in ‘cruel captivity’.228 According to Orosius, the king died from poisoning in Babylon while he was ‘still thirsting for blood with a lust that was cruelly punished’.229 The vagueness at the end of this statement leaves us with the question: Is Orosius referring to God punishing the king, or does he mean the servant who treacherously prepared the poison? After giving a long account of the reign of Alexander, Orosius writes about his own times and compares the history and legacy of Alexander with those of Rome and the barbarian threat. The account is linked to the recent attack of Alaric, whom he names as a ‘fugitive thief’.230 Orosius states that ‘many’, referring to the authors of the Classical tradition, praise Alexander for his courage and victories, especially because Rome has been successful in war. However, the chaos and suffering of Roman history is not to be called ‘good fortune’.231 The barbarians threatening Rome attempted to create chaos, just as Alexander and Rome had previously done throughout the inhabited world, even though both Alexander and the Romans had created laws and institutions in contrast to barbarians like Alaric.232 As in Augustine’s passage above, a critique of the Roman militarist and expansionist past appears in Orosius. When Orosius criticizes Alexander, he also questions the glory of the hardships and sufferings that the Roman wars had brought before the Christianization of the Empire.233 However, Orosius creates a common identity for ‘us’ Romans, still defined in contrast to that of the barbarians, qualified as ‘our brutal enemies’. In addition, God is mentioned as the highest authority, under whose will everything takes place.
Alexander in Christian apologia 201 Alexander’s illustrious campaign was directed to the ends of the inhabited earth. This gave Orosius the possibility to discuss events that caused destruction and hardship not just for Rome, but also for the whole of mankind. According to Christian exegetes of the Later Empire, the biblical interpretation of history was based on the regimes of the four world empires. In this history, one vital turning point was when ultimate power was transferred from the Persian Empire to the Macedonian empire.234 In Orosius’ handling of these events, the role of God was set aside, so that the narrative could prove the horrible destruction of the pagan regimes. This included the Roman Empire before the emergence of Christianity and Constantine’s rulership. In the early fifth century, the Christian Church and its leaders and bishops had gained a strong influence over the state. This present situation had to be demonstrated as the best possible compared to that of the Classical tradition. A critical synopsis of Alexander’s imperialism and personality can also be read in On the ages of the world and man, which is a summary of world history, sacred and profane, attributed to Fulgentius.235 We do not have much information about the author, but he is often identified as the bishop of Ruspe (467–532).236 In existing scholarship, Fulgentius’ work has been seen as a continuation of Orosius’ History against the pagans and as the first Latin treatment of Alexander’s career to incorporate elements from the Alexander Romance.237 Although Fulgentius’ work shares the same critical tones and rhetorical techniques as Orosius’, his interest is more heavily centered on the individual and the moral messages that the king’s career conveys. Fulgentius’ moralistic attitude and interpretation of world history justifies the ways of God to man and searches for analogies between past and present ways.238 The portrait of Alexander and his conquests resembles the critical Latin Stoic descriptions in which the motivations and result of the king’s Persian expedition were doomed to cause suffering to every living creature. In the passage’s foreword, Fulgentius qualifies Alexander as nefas, which could be translated as a ‘wicked person’ or as a ‘destructive thing’. The king is frequently depicted as not content (non contentus) with what he already possesses. First, he is not content to accept Philip as his father, and second, he is not content with the Macedonian kingdom. Thus, the king plans to exceed the boundaries of the known world and invade the old lands of Babylonia.239 After achieving victory over the Persians, he is still not content and pushes his invasion to remote places.240 The implicit message seems to be that one should be content with what one possesses. This moral can be related to Christian thinking.241 Fulgentius’ choice of words highlights the damage and sufferings that the expedition caused. Tears, robberies, and funerals, such as the one the king allowed Darius, are characterized as inanis. This could be translated as a ‘futile’, ‘vain’, ‘worthless’, or ‘unprofitable’.242 Fulgentius lists many nations and places that were conquered by the king. The old topos of the king fighting against many remote nations and elements of nature such as seas, rivers, mountains, and ice also appear in the text. Fulgentius refers to his own times as he remarks that
202 Alexander in Christian apologia such negative events are not ‘unknown in our century’ (ignotos nostro saeculo).243 The word ignotus means unfamiliar, outside one’s knowledge or experience. This short sentence expresses Fulgentius’ attitude towards his own period. Alexander’s death at the peak of his career is a moral lesson that stresses how futile the king’s actions were: And where he thought the world all too puny for his wanderings, he came to his rest satisfied with three cubits of grave-earth. Human nature may thus learn from him that nothing is to be taken for granted even by the mighty, for death is heir of rich and poor alike.244 After depicting the king’s renowned and impulsive career, the final sentence of the passage poses the following question: “But what did it profit him, to conquer all that was unconquered?”245 The great king was poisoned by a slave.246 Although Roman Stoic authors had already stressed the boundaries for mortal men by presenting a critical view of Alexander, there is also a Christian layer in Fulgentius. The old theme of hubris (ὕβρις/superbia) (acting and thinking beyond norms), well-known from Classical literature, appears in this new Christianized context.247 We see this when Fulgentius writes ‘O Lord my God’, and in the sentence: “What God has been satisfied in creating was thought puny by endlessly searching Alexander.”248 Fulgentius’ passage on Alexander is a manifestation of a Christian view on the proper place of the individual in God’s universe. He is encouraging people to remember their place in front of God and the Church. Their position should be submissive and meek, and they should avoid unreasonable plans. Since death is inevitable, one should be ready to encounter one’s God and should remember that life is fragile. Seneca’s and Lucan’s extremely critical depiction of Alexander as the ‘terrorizer’ of the inhabited world was connected to a critique of Roman imperialism. In Augustine’s, Orosius’, and Fulgentius’ works, the same image and criticism found new Christian meanings: where Roman Stoic writers stressed the importance of philosophical therapy and the negative impacts of imperialism, Christian writers defended the superiority of the new religion and the existing political order. The Christianized present was much better than the pagan past, which was governed by kings and emperors whose wars of conquest brought havoc and destruction. The Christian writers of Late Antiquity were eager to reconsider Alexander’s fame and prestige in their polemical writings. As a much-admired figure, whose posthumous reputation and popularity had already lasted 600 years, Alexander was the closest equivalent to Constantine or Christ himself from the Classical world. This image of the heroic king had to be denied, and this was done by using the critical perceptions already introduced by the Roman Stoic writers of the Early Empire. In addition, the passages analyzed in this subchapter also promoted Christian values and way of life as the antithesis of the habits of the morally low pagan despots. The life of the Macedonian king could be presented as a warning example of unjust kingship and could serve to emphasize the importance of Christian deeds and living in fear of the true God. By presenting Alexander as a pagan
Alexander in Christian apologia 203 tyrant, Christian writers could demonstrate the superior quality of Christianity as the new state religion. The Christianized Empire not only guaranteed a better life in the present, but also promised a brighter future. *** Twenty-five years ago, Averil Cameron wrote that Christianity’s effectiveness in the Roman Empire lay in the creation of its own intellectual and imaginative universe.249 One of the means to justify the cultural presence and position of Christians in society was the argumentative strategy based on the interpretations of a shared past – the history of the Bible and the Classical past.250 Indeed, I have shown here that the same Classical exempla used by Roman Greek and Roman Latin writers were recycled by the Christian apologetics and ecclesiastical writers. Christian writers living from the second to the fifth century used the figure of Alexander to promote their faith and worldview. Although these Christian intellectuals were devoted to their Christian ‘ideology’, an author might use various traditions about Alexander as appropriate to the occasion. John Chrysostom used Alexander’s encounter with Diogenes as both a negative/warning and a positive/ imitable exemplum. The same writer exploited a positive image of the Danielic Alexander to extol God’s ability to see the future, but on another occasion, offered a hostile image of the king to defend the legacy of Christ. There was no one Christian or Christianized Alexander, but several traditions and images that Christians writers knew of and used in their works. Like Classical writers, who had often shared the same schooling in rhetoric, Christian authors used the historical tradition in an adaptive way. For the Christian and Jewish authors, history offered religious and moral readings. Their audience included both cultured pagans and Christians. Using the literary images of Alexander was natural, since he was a well-known character in the Classical tradition. However, in their texts, the previously divergent presentations of Alexander received new Christianized meanings. The philosophical and pedagogical passages concerning the king’s relationship with his tutor Aristotle, or his encounter with Diogenes, highlighted certain philosophical moral judgments or teachings. In the Christian text, however, these stories served both to defend the status of Christianity in the Roman world and to challenge the traditional culture. In some cases, Christian writers adopted the same language and rhetorical strategies previously used by the Latin Stoic writers. The need to defend Christian ideology as the right and justified systematic worldview impacted on the ways in which the past was used. In addition, the passages concerning Alexander constructed a cultural identity for Jews and Christians. These texts portrayed the Christian groups as a minority that deserved to be accepted and then later as the continuators or improvers of traditional Roman culture. For the same purposes, Christian writers adopted ‘new’ material from the Hebrew Bible and the works of Josephus, which the Classical writers had not been familiar with. With the Jewish accounts, the Christians could define the boundaries between us and the other, in other words, between Christians and pagans.
204 Alexander in Christian apologia For the Christians, the past was part of God’s salvation story. One could include oneself in this story by becoming Christian and by adopting the truths about God revealed in it. In the Judeo-Christian systematic worldview, the past showed what happened when Gentile nations did not know God and lived under the tyrannical rule of their pagan kings. The result was destruction, accidents, and injuries caused to the inhabitants of the world, often demonstrated through a critical presentation of Alexander’s career. At the same time, Alexander the famous pagan king was incorporated into the great story (history) in which God showed his omnipotence and acted through His people (first the Jews and then the Christians) to overcome the Gentiles.
Notes 1 For example, on pages 144–145, 153–154, I analyzed the self-promotion of Christian writers. On pages 57–64, I investigated the political rhetoric of the anonymous writer of First Maccabees and Josephus. Cf. also pages 97, 104, 116–117. 2 Scholarly treatments on the expansion of Christianity are naturally numerous. For a detailed discussion on the expansion of Christianity, see esp. Rives 2005, 15–43. Winkel 1984 offers an outlook on the way Christians were perceived by the ‘pagan’ intellectuals of the Empire. 3 See Averil Cameron 1991; Alan Cameron 2013. 4 Christians and the representatives of traditional culture were not homonymous groups. Instead, there were several Christian groups with variant beliefs and codes of conduct: see Finn 2009, 6; Chadwick 1985, 9. For the invention of paganism, see Jürgasch 2015, 115–139. North 1992, 180 suggests that the emergence of Christians in the Gentile world provided one starting point for the differentiation of religious life. 5 Cary 1956 treated some passages of Augustine and Orosius as an introduction to the later medieval Alexander literature. Stoneman 2003, 344 referred briefly to the existence of Alexander as an exemplum in the texts of the Church Fathers. Harding 2008 discusses Augustine’s use of Alexander as an exemplum. I was unable to take Christian Djurslev’s forthcoming Alexander the Great in the early Christian tradition into account in my analysis. 6 Drobner 2007, 71–73; Gonzáles 2010, 59–66. 7 Jacobsen 2009, 5–8. 8 Ibid. 14. 9 Gonzáles 2010, 64–66; Karamonolis 2014, 3. 10 Kofsky 2002, 7–9. 11 Antonova 2005, 74–76. Cf. Origen C. Cels. 1.2. 12 Hunt 2003, 98–100; Hawthorne 1964, 162. 13 Tatianus Ad Gr. 2.1. 14 For repentance in early Christian doctrine, see Siker 2015, 39–44. 15 Cf. Arr. an. 4.9.2–3, 7.29.1–2. 16 Trans. Gerald H. Rendall. Tert. Apol. 46.15: idem Aristoteles tam turpiter Alexandro regendo potius adolatur. 17 See chapter 3. 18 Clem. Al. Paid. 1.7.55.1.1–4. 19 The reference to the relationship between Alexander and his tutor Leonides differs from Quintilian’s usage. In Quintilian, Alexander’s faults, learned during his early
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years with Leonides, served to stress the importance of good early education. Cf. pages 96–97. chapter 2.1. Clem. Al. Paid. 1.7.55.2.9–58.2.5. For Constantine’s policy favoring the Catholic Church and its bishops, see Odahl 2004, 116, 119–142. For a discussion about Julian’s anti-Christian critique and policy, see Smith 1995, 189–218. John Chrys. De s. Bab. 45.1. For Diogenes and Alexander in Greco-Roman philosophical writings, see pages 100–106. Trans. Margaret A. Schatkin. John Chrys. De s. Bab. 46.7: οὐ καταδύσεσθε; οὐκ ἐγκαλύψεσθε; Ibid. 46.9–11. In Chrysostom’s Against the opponents of the monastic life the whole scene is depicted totally differently. See pages 176–178, which demonstrates Chrysostom’s flexible use of historical exempla. Krueger 1993, 39. Basil explains how a man kept striking Socrates, but he did not respond to the aggression with aggression. Therefore, Socrates’ attitude is comparable to Jesus’, who commands us to ‘turn the other cheek’. Again, Pericles and Euclid confirm the precepts of Jesus: “Submit to those who persecute you, and endure their wrath with meekness” and “Pray for your enemies and curse them not.” Basil. Ad adolesc. 7.7–9. Trans. Roy R. Deferrari and M. R. P. McGuire. Basil. Ad adolesc. 7.9: οὐκ ἂν παρέλθοιμι τὸ τοῦ Ἀλεξάνδρου, ὃς τὰς θυγατέρας Δαρείου αἰχμαλώτους λαβὼν θαυμαστόν τι οἷον τὸ κάλλος παρέχειν μαρτυρουμένας, οὐδὲ προσιδεῖν ἠξίωσεν, αἰσχρὸν εἶναι τουτὶ γὰρ εἰς ταὐτὸν ἐκείνῳ φέρει, ὅτι ὁ ἐμβλέψας πρὸς ἡδονὴν γυναικὶ κἂν μὴ τῷ ἔργῳ τὴν μοιχείαν ἐπιτελέσῃ, ἀλλὰ τῷ γε τὴν ἐπιθυμίαν τῇ ψυχῇ παραδέξασθαι, οὐκ ἀφίεται τοῦ ἐγκλήματος. We encounter the incident in the works of several Classical authors: see Plut. Alex. 21.4–5; Plut. Mor. 338d – e, Arr. an. 2.12.7–8; Gell. NA 7.8.1–5; Ammian. Marc. 24.4.27. Larson 2012, 184–185. Cf. Plut. Alex. 21.4–5. See also Mor. 338d – e. Cf. Matt. 5:28. Clark 2004, 38–60. Naturally, the writers representing traditional culture also exploited philosophical ideas when they attacked Christian doctrine. The term euhemerism alludes to a rationalistic school of thought which is named after its founder, Euhemerus of Sicily (300 BC), who wrote the famous Secret history. For the origin of the Hellenistic euhemeristic tradition and its impact, see Brown 1946. For the frequent use of the euhemeristic tradition by Christian writers, see O’Daly 2004, 43–44. Rusten 1980 questioned the identification that Pfister gave to the author of the work. According to Pfister, the author was a real Egyptian priest, but Rusten rejected this theory. Instead, he stated that the editor of the letter was part of a literary forgery that we know from the Hellenistic period, when it was ‘discovered’ and ‘edited’ for the public. Rusten 1980, 200. The letter was probably written by the historian Leo of Pella (third or second century). Hunink 2005, 158. Athenagoras Leg. 28. According to Athenagoras it is easily deduced from the names of their gods that Egyptians, originally seen as one of the oldest cultures in antiquity, made their rulers gods. This was a fact which Herodotus and Alexander knew. For example, Minucius does not cite the Bible or mention the name of Christ. Cf. Drobner 2007, 165.
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Min. Fel. Oct. 21. Cypr. Epist. 1.3.1–3. See pages 40–42. Sen. Suas. 4 discusses critically the power of Babylonian augurs over the monarch who had conquered all of the inhabited world. In addition, Plutarch’s Alexander and Curtius’ Historiae display a balanced attitude towards omens and portents and use the warning example of Alexander. Cf. Plut. Alex. 75.1–2. For a recent study on divination in the works of the Alexander Historians, see Bowden 2017, 149–169. Its main readership was educated and consisted of cultured pagans who were to be shown the true λόγος. Drobner 2007, 133–134. Trans. P. G. W. Butterworth. Clem. Al. Prot. 4.48: ἐβούλετο δὲ καὶ Ἀλέξανδρος Ἄμμωνος υἱὸς εἶναι δοκεῖν καὶ κερασφόρος ἀναπλάττεσθαι πρὸς τῶν ἀγαλματοποιῶν, τὸ καλὸν ἀνθρώπου πρόσωπον ὑβρίσαι σπεύδων κέρατι. Trans. P. G. W. Butterworth. Clem. Al. Prot. 10.78: δεισιδαιμονίας ἄθεοι χορευταί, ἀνοίᾳ καὶ παρανοίᾳ ἐς αὐτὸ ὠθούμενοι τὸ βάραθρον, εἰδώλων ποιηταὶ καὶ λίθων προσκυνηταί· οἵδε γὰρ ἀνθρώπους ἀποθεοῦν τετολμήκασι, τρισκαιδέκατον Ἀλέξανδρον τὸν Μακεδόνα ἀναγράφοντες θεόν, “ὃν Βαβυλὼν ἤλεγξε νεκρόν”. Cf. Dahmen 2007, 36–37, 119–120. For the images of the gods as disgusting in the biblical tradition, cf. Deut. 7:25, 27:15, 29:17. We know this anecdote from the Classical authors: see Ael. VH 5.12. There were 12 Olympian gods and an anecdote indicated the placement of the king on the level of these major gods. Cf. pages 00. John Chrys. In 2. Cor. hom. 61.580.47–54. In Aelian, it was the Athenian Demades who had addressed the Athenian assembly and proposed that Alexander should be named the 13th god. However, the public found it intolerable, and Demades was fined 100 talents. Ael. VH 5.12. Aug. De civ. D. 8.5.1. Ibid. 8.27. Ibid. 12.11.30–35. Harding 2008, 127 has similarly noticed this in Augustine’s use of the information found in the letter. Harding 2008, 127. Nuffelen 2012, 3–4 suggests that this cooperation between Augustine and Orosius was more profound than has previously been thought. For more detailed discussion about Orosius’ critical presentation of Alexander, see pages 199–201. Trans. A. T. Fear. Oros. 3.16.13: nam arcessitum ad se fani ipsius antistitem ex occulto monuit, quid sibi tamquam consulenti responderi velit, sicut historici eorum dicunt. ita certus Alexander fuit nobisque prodidit, dis ipsis mutis et surdis vel in potestate esse antistitis quid velit fingere vel in voluntate consulentis quid malit audire. Cf. Curt. 4.7.25–31. Psa. 115.4–8. Isa. 46.6–7. Jul. Ep. 47.433c. See also Jul. Adv. Galil. 218b, where the emperor writes that Jews (who form the ideological foundation of Christianity) do not have a single commander as great as were Alexander the Great and Julius Caesar. This comparison is offered to defend the superiority of the representatives of traditional Roman religion over Jews and Christians. There were also widespread Neoplatonic and Manichean beliefs among non-Christians that resembled some Christian ideas and helped prepare the way for Christianity: Augustine, for instance, was a follower of both before converting to Christianity. Similarly, there was widespread opposition to animal sacrifice among many pagan philosophers. For non-Christian asceticism, see Finn 2009, 9–34.
Alexander in Christian apologia 207 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77
78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94
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Gonzáles 2010, 157–158. Caner 2009, 591–592. Hunter 1988, 29–37. Against the enemies of the monastic life is the only one of Chrysostom’s work which takes a positive stance towards the philosophical tradition and its Classical figures. Hunter 1988, 31. John Chry. Adv. mon. 2.4. Krueger 1993, 38. John Chry. Adv. mon. 2.5. Wilken 2004, 27–29. For parental opposition to ascetism in Christian families, see Vuolanto 2015, 105–113. The English translation of the work was published in Stoneman 1994. Palladius (ca. 364 – after 420) was the bishop of Helenopolis. He wrote the Lausiac History, which deals with the Christian monks that lived in the Egyptian desert. Additionally, we know from a papyrus fragment (Pap. Genev. inv. 271), dated to the second century, that there existed earlier versions or models of the meeting between Alexander and Dandamis. The content of the papyrus lacks any Christian connotations, which implies that the passage received its Christian elements from Palladius or another Christian author living between 300 and 400. Martin saw no Christian influence in the papyrus. Martin 1959, 80. The papyrus is also translated in Stoneman 1994, 78–84. Stoneman 1994; Stoneman 1995 tried to trace the origin of the Brahmans. Stoneman investigates the different parts of the story and why they appear in later Alexander literature. See also his recent treatment of the episode in Stoneman 2008, 91–107. Cf. Berg 1970, 279. Stoneman 2008, 102. Pallad. De gentibus Indiae 2.2. Ibid. 2.3–12. Ibid. 2.13–18. Ibid. 2.19–57. Ibid. 1.1. The writer identifies the Ganges as the river we call Pishon, beginning in the Garden of Eden. Cf. Gen. 2:10–14. Pallad. De gentibus Indiae 2.15.1–2. Ibid. 2.17. Ibid. 2.15 and 17. Cf. Stoneman 1994, 120 (n. 20). Finn 2009, 21–24. Pallad. De gentibus Indiae 2.39.10. Ibid. The concept of an immortal soul comes from traditional Greek philosophy, as in Pythagorean and Platonic thought: cf. Perrett 1987, 107. We do not encounter it in the Jewish Old Testament tradition, but in the Jewish apocryphal texts: Raphael 2001, 102–103. In the fourth and fifth centuries, Christian doctrine had received strong influence from traditional philosophy, like the works of Plato and the Neoplatonists. For the appearance of the immortal soul in the Greek world, see Endsjø 2009, 106–110. Trans. Richard Stoneman. Pallad. De gentibus Indiae 2.27.1: ἀπελεύσομαι γὰρ πρὸς τὸν θεόν μου, ὃς κατεσκεύασε τὰ πάντα· αὐτὸς γὰρ οἶδέ μου τὴν δίκην καὶ τούτῳ λέληθεν οὐδέν. This is the concept that Dandamis points to when he criticizes Alexander´’s conquest: “Why do you, who have but a single soul, want to destroy so many nations?” (τί μία ψυχὴ γενόμενος τοσαῦτα ἔθνη καταλῦσαι θέλεις;). Ibid. 2.28.1. Trans. Richard Stoneman. Ibid. 2.30.6–7: καὶ ὢν ἐν αἰθέρι ὄψομαί σε τούτων τὰς δίκας τιννῦντα καὶ στεναγμοῖς πικροῖς ὀδυρόμενόν σε τῶν ὑπὸ σοῦ πεπραγμένων τὰς εὐθύνας διδόντα.
208 Alexander in Christian apologia 97 Cf. Luk. 16:22–26. 98 Trans. Richard Stoneman. Pallad. De gentibus Indiae 2.43.5: ἡμεῖς δὲ οὐ χρείαν ἔχομεν πόλεις ἐπιζητεῖν· σύνοδος γὰρ ἐπιβουλῆς ἐστι καὶ πολλῆς κακίας γεώργιον. 99 In the traditional division of John Cassian, there were three types of monks: cenobites, anchorites, and sarabaites. Anchorites were monks who retired deep into the desert after training in communities of cenobites. Caner 2009, 590. 100 Caner 2009, 594–595. 101 Ibid. 595. 102 Trans. Richard Stoneman. Pallad. De gentibus Indiae 2.28.10: τιμήσεις σεαυτὸν μιμησάμενος ἡμᾶς. 103 Ibid. 2.57.1: ἐπ’ ἐρημίας οἴκησον γυμνός. cf. ibid. 2.6. 104 Ibid. 2.2, 13, 20. 105 Ibid. 2.32–36. 106 Ibid. 2.40. 107 Ibid. 2.47.20. 108 Ibid. 2.48. 109 Ibid. 2.51. 110 Ibid. 2.53. 111 Goldstein 2002, 3. 112 Exod. 19:6; Deuter. 7:6; 1. Kings 8:51. 113 The monotheistic nature of Judeo-Christian thinking played a role of paramount importance. Goldstein 2002 tries to detect the concept of the ‘people of Almighty God’ in the cultures of the Babylonians and the Persians. 114 Alex. Rom. 2.24. For the visit in rabbinic literature, see Dönitz 2011, 23; Tropper 2013, 136–156. In rabbinic literature Jaddua is named Simeon the Righteous. Tropper sees the rabbinic tale on the visit as developed from Josephus’ narrative, and distinguishes seven differences between the two versions. Tropper 2013, 148–151. 115 Cf. Schäfer 2003, 6. 116 Trans. Ralph Marcus. Jos. AJ 11.326: παραγγείλας οὖν ἱκεσίαν τῷ λαῷ καὶ θυσίαν τῷ θεῷ μετ’ αὐτοῦ προσφέρων ἐδεῖτο ὑπερασπίσαι τοῦ ἔθνους καὶ τῶν ἐπερχομένων κινδύνων ἀπαλλάξαι. 117 Josephus knows this biblical setting and follows it in the Jewish Antiquities. Moses leads the Jewish nation to the Red Sea, where God delivers his people by destroying the Egyptians in a miraculous way (Exod. 14:13–14, 21–23; Jos. AJ 2.16.334–345). King Jehoshaphat gets deliverance from the threat of the sons of Moab and Ammon after turning to God (2. Chron. 20:1, 3, 15–25; Jos. AJ 9.1.7–15). Similarly, in the reign of Hezekiah, Judah is attacked by the Assyrian army, but Judah gains a miraculous victory after its people turned to God (2. Kings 19:1, 32–35; Jos. AJ 10.1.11–23). Again, in the Book of Esther, Haman (Esth. 3.7–13, 4.3, 16, 8.5–6, 10–11, 9.23–25; Jos. AJ 11.6.184–296) contrives a scheme against the Jews. With the help of Mordecai and Esther, the Jews are spared from genocide. A similar situation also occurs in 2. Macc. 3:14. 118 The course of events follows the pattern we know from the story concerning Jehoshaphat when a threat is made by the sons of Ammon and Moab. God’s answer is “You do not need to fight in this instance” (2. Chron. 20:17; Jos. AJ 9.1.10–11). A similar tradition appears in the passage concerning the Red Sea. Exod. 14:13–14, 25. In the case of Jehoshaphat, the king leads his group of unarmed priests against the enemy – only to find that the enemy have already killed themselves. In the biblical presentation of the days of Hezekiah, it is God’s angel who destroys the whole Assyrian army. 119 Jos. AJ 11.326–328: προνοουμένου τοῦ θεοῦ. 120 ( יהוחYahweh/Jehovah). 121 For the proskynesis in the narratives of the Alexander historians, see Bowden 2013.
Alexander in Christian apologia 209 122 Cf. the conversation which takes place before the battle of Granicus (Arr. an. 1.13.2; Plut. Alex. 16.2), and before the battle of Gaugamela (Arr. an. 3.10.1–2; Plut. Alex. 31.11–12; Curt. 4.13.4, 8–9). In the literary tradition, Alexander often rejects Parmenion’s advice. 123 “οὐ τοῦτον,” εἶπεν, “προσεκύνησα, τὸν δὲ θεόν.” 124 Trans. Ralph Marcus. Jos. AJ 11.333–334: παρεκελεύετο μὴ μέλλειν ἀλλὰ θαρσοῦντα διαβαίνειν· αὐτὸς γὰρ ἡγήσεσθαί μου τῆς στρατιᾶς καὶ τὴν Περσῶν παραδώσειν ἀρχήν. 125 See also Feldman 1992b, 289. 126 Cf. Jos. BJ 6.5.281–315. 127 For the original Hebrew text and its translation, see Tropper 137–138. Tropper distinguishes seven differences between Josephus’ narrative and the rabbinic version of the episode. Tropper 2013, 148–151. In the rabbinic texts, attention is mainly given to the verdict that the king pronounces for the Jews against the Samaritans. 128 The gamma recension of the Alexander Romance contains material of Jewish origin differing from the other Greek-language versions of the Romance. The most striking difference is the story of Alexander in Jerusalem. For the Jewish version of the Alexander Romance, see Stoneman 2008, 231–232. 129 Trans. Richard Stoneman. Alex. Rom. 2.24: “ὡς θεοειδὲς ὑμῶν τὸ σχῆμα· φράσον δή μοι καὶ τίνα ὑμεῖς σέβεσθε θεόν; οὐ γὰρ ἐν τοῖς παρ’ ἡμῖν θεοῖς τοιαύτην εὐταξίαν εἶδον ἱερέων.” ὁ δὲ φησίν· “θεὸν ἡμεῖς ἕνα δουλεύομεν, ὃς ἐποίησεν οὐρανὸν καὶ γῆν καὶ πάντα τὰ ὁράμενά τε καὶ ἀόρατα· οὐδεὶς δὲ αὐτὸν ἑρμηνεῦσαι ἀνθρώπων δεδύνηται.” ἐπὶ τούτοις Ἀλέξανδρος ἔφη· └“ὡς ἀληθινοῦ θεοῦ ἄξιοι θεραπευταὶ ἄπιτε ἐν εἰρήνῃ,┘ ἄπιτε· ὁ γὰρ θεὸς ὑμῶν ἔσται μοι θεὸς καὶ ἡ εἰρήνη μου μεθ’ ὑμῶν, καὶ οὐ μὴ διεξέλθω ὑμᾶς καθὼς καὶ ἐν τοῖς λοιποῖς ἔθνεσιν, ὅτι θεῷ ζῶντι ὑμεῖς δεδουλεύκατε.” 130 In Rth. 1.16–17, the Moabite woman Ruth proclaims to Naomi, “Your people will be my people and your God my God.” 131 Cf. Deut. 5:26; Jer. 10:10; Dan. 6:20, 26. 132 Cf. 1. Pet. 2.9–10. For a discussion on the subject, see Bülmann 1982. For the Franks’ adoption of the concept of God’s people, see Garrison 2000, 115–117. 133 For example, in early Christian preaching and theology, Christianity was ‘proved’ to be the fulfillment of the Scriptures. Menken 2003, 133–198 approaches the fulfilment of the Scriptures as a propagandistic tool used against the Jews. 134 On the reasons for Josephus’ popularity among Christian writers, see Feldman 1990, 105; Schreckenberg 1972. 135 Origen C. Cels. pref. 6. Celsus’ The true logos was composed during the second half of the second century. 136 Origen C. Cels. 1.14. Celsus brought such accusations against both Judaism and Christianity. For example, he claimed that both religions appeal to simpleminded and gullible people. Origen C. Cels. 1.9, 27, 3.44, 50, 55, 59, 74, 75, 6.12, 13–14. 137 Winkel 1984, 112. 138 Feldman 1990, 107–108. Feldman compares Origen’s Contra Celsum to Josephus’ Contra Apionem. He shows how Origen utilized and approached his subject similarly to Josephus, who also defended Jewish customs and the antiquity of Jewish history against anti-Jewish Greek writers. 139 Origen C. Cels. 5.50. 140 Trans. Frederick Crombie. Origen C. Cels. 5.50.9–14: καὶ ὡς εὐδοκιμοῦντές γε ὅσον οὐκ ἐγκατελείποντο, καίτοι γε ὀλίγοι τυγχάνοντες τὸν ἀριθμόν, διετέλουν φρουρούμενοι ὑπὸ θείας δυνάμεως, ὡς μηδ’ ἐπὶ Ἀλεξάνδρου τοῦ Μακεδόνος παθεῖν τι αὐτοὺς ὑπ’ αὐτοῦ, καίτοι γε μὴ βουληθέντας διά τινας συνθήκας καὶ ὅρκους ἀναλαμβάνειν ὅπλα κατὰ τοῦ Δαρείου.
210 Alexander in Christian apologia 141 Trans. Frederick Crombie. Origen C. Cels. 5.50.20–21: ταύτην δὲ τὴν οἰκονομίαν μεταβεβηκέναι καὶ τὴν χάριν ἐφ’ ἡμᾶς, μεταστήσαντος τὴν ἐν Ἰουδαίοις δύναμιν ἐπὶ τοὺς ἀπὸ τῶν ἐθνῶν πιστεύσαντας αὐτῷ Ἰησοῦ. 142 Origen C. Cels. 5.50.22–23. 143 Feldman 1990, 127. 144 This Christian idea about the shift from Judaism to Christianity as God’s plan is indirectly expressed in the books of the New Testament. See, for example, Matt. 21:42–43; Gal. 3:27–29; Rom. 11:25–26. For the Christian ways of using the language of race and ethnicity to define and differentiate themselves from other groups, see Perkins 2009, 28–32. 145 Jer. Chron. 204.4–5; Isid. Chron. 50. Jerome’s Chronica includes Alexander making sacrificial offerings to God, complimenting the high priest with many honors, and nominating Andromachus as the guardian of the holy places. Curtius mentions him as a strategos and states that the Samaritans burned him alive. Later, Alexander avenged his death. Cf. Curt. 4.5.9, 8.9; Arr. an. 2.20.10. 146 Jer. Comment. in Dan. 635. 147 According to Jerome, God’s purpose was to improve Daniel’s position at the king’s court, and to make known the ‘omnipotence of God’ among the Chaldeans. 148 August. De civ. D. 18.45. In this passage, Augustine returns to the narrative broken off at the end of 18.26. 149 According to Augustine, all this was because the prophet Haggai (Hagg. 2:7 and 2:9) had foretold the building of a greater house to God, which referred to Jesus and to the new covenant with the Christians. God’s purpose was revealed by a prophet and explained the course of Jewish history from the temple of Solomon to the advent of Christ. 150 Trans. William M. Green. August. De civ. D. 18.45: non multo post enim adveniente Alexandro subiugata est, quando etsi nulla est facta vastatio, quoniam non sunt ei ausi resistere et ideo placatum facillime subditi receperunt, non erat tamen gloria tanta domus illius quanta fuit in suorum regum libera potestate. hostias sane Alexander immolavit in Dei templo, non ad eius cultum vera pietate conversus, sed impia vanitate cum diis eum falsis colendum putans. 151 Alexander’s visit to Jerusalem appears in the World Chronicle of Isidore of Seville, written in the late sixth / early seventh century, and in the Alexandrian World Chronicle. Excerpt. Lat. barb. 6.17. Shahar 2016 shows how Josephus’ story of Alexander’s visit to Jerusalem was used in late seventeenth-century England. 152 For the reception of the Book of Daniel, see Koch 1997. 153 Cf. Collins 2001, 1–2. Robert Dick Wilson (1856–1930) has been called the last great defender of Daniel’s authorship: cf. Collins 2001, 1 (n. 3). However, since Wilson there have been some other scholars who have not been convinced by the Maccabean dating for the Book of Daniel: cf. Ferch 1983, 129–138. 154 Berchman 2005, 58–59. 155 This conservative reading of Daniel as a reliable (and divine) guide to history, past and future, continues to flourish among Jewish and Christian believers. 156 Jos. AJ 10.266. On Josephus’ long treatment of Daniel as a real prophet who predicted the rise and fall of the Gentile kingdoms in the Jewish Antiquities, see ibid. 10.265–281. For Josephus’ view on the prophets of the Old Testament, on the Book of Daniel as a canonical book of the Bible, and on the divine inspiration, see esp. Leiman 1989, 50–56. For recent views on the dating of the Book of Daniel, see Knibb 2001, 16–37. The majority of scholars now date the Book of Daniel to the early Maccabean era. 157 Matt. 24:15; Mr. 13:14. 158 Dan. 9:24–27. Cf. Tert. Adv. Iud. 8. 159 For Porphyry’s Against the Christians, and its critique of the Book of Daniel, see esp. Barnes 1974, 436, 441 and Casey 1976, 15–33. Against the Christians is known
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only from fragments preserved in Christian works and their records of the arguments which Porphyry used, as all copies were ordered burned by Theodosius II. Wilken 1984, 134–135; Chadwick 1959, 66 suggests that Porphyry was requested by the emperor Diocletian to prepare a defense of traditional religion. The majority of biblical scholars agree with Porphyry and date the Book of Daniel after 165 BC. Dan. 2:39, 7:6, 8:3–8, 20–22, 11:3–4. Trans. Ralph Marcus. Jos. AJ 10.273–274: τὸν δὲ τράγον δηλοῦν, ὡς ἐκ τῶν Ἑλλήνων τις βασιλεύων ἔσται, ὃς τῷ Πέρσῃ συμβαλὼν δὶς κρατήσει τῇ μάχῃ καὶ παραλήψεται τὴν ἡγεμονίαν ἅπασαν. δηλοῦσθαι δ’ ὑπὸ τοῦ μεγάλου κέρατος τοῦ ἐν τῷ μετώπῳ τοῦ τράγου τὸν πρῶτον βασιλέα. Trans. Ralph Marcus. Ibid. 11.337: δειχθείσης δ’ αὐτῷ τῆς Δανιήλου βίβλου, ἐν ᾗ τινα τῶν Ἑλλήνων καταλύσειν τὴν Περσῶν ἀρχὴν ἐδήλου, νομίσας αὐτὸς εἶναι ὁ σημαινόμενος τότε μὲν ἡσθεὶς ἀπέλυσε τὸ πλῆθος. Two earlier parts of the statue and the winged lion and bear represent the NeoBabylonian Empire and the empire of the Medians and Persians, respectively, while the last, iron part of the statue and the fourth beast is interpreted as the Roman Empire. Cf. Dan. 7:24–27. Trans. Gleason L. Archer. Jer. Comment. in Dan. 622b: ut probemus ea quae a sanctis prophetis ante saecula multa praedicia sunt, tam Graecorum, quam Latinorum et aliarum gentium litteris contineri. multiplex Graecorum historia necessaria est. Jer. Comment. in Dan. 633a. Ibid. 666a. Hippolytus finds these same similarities between the kingdom of the Greeks, whose king was Alexander, and a leopard. A leopard, a multicolored animal, symbolizes the quick and inventive qualities of thought, and Alexander’s character as bitter at heart. Ibid. Trans. Gleason L. Archer. Jer. Comment. in Dan. 666a: non Alexandri fortitudinis, sed domini voluntatis fuisse. Origen Phil. 23.5.1–15. Ibid. 23.5.20–45. σημεῖα τῆς τοῦ θεοῦ προγνώσεως. Ibid. 23.45–50. Origen Phil. 23.4–5. Alexander magnus Macedo quem vel arietem, vel pardum, vel hircum caprarum Daniel vocat. Jer. Vita Hil. pref. 9–11. Jerome’s positive image of Alexander derived not only from the explanation of Daniel. In the Apology against Rufinus, after mentioning that he has read philosophical works, Jerome adds: “I had the desire to imitate the deeds which I had read about in Alexander and Scipio.” Trans. John N. Hritzu. Jer. C. Ruf. 3.40. It is uncertain whether he held ecclesiastical office or not, but he was certainly an ascetic. Aphrahat addressed his 22 ‘Instructions’, written (1–10) in 337 (Demonstrationes) to his fellow ascetics. Brock 1988, 71–72. Aph. Dem. V.5.1–25. Aph. Dem. V.3, 7. Cf. Matt. 23:12; Luk. 14:11. Aph. Dem. V.6.15–20, referring to Dan. 7:13–14. John Chrys. Adv. Iud. 5.7.1–5. The work was one of the eight homilies against the Jews (Adversus Iudaeos). It is Adversus Iudaeos-literature with theological discussion about the coexistence between Christianity and its mother religion and propagating Christian superiority over Jewish practices in law and other matters and criticizing reconversions to Judaism. Drobner 2004, 328. For the Adversus Iudaeos-literature, see also Koltun-Fromm 2007, 558–560. Ibid. 7.9.
212 Alexander in Christian apologia 186 John Chrys. Hom. 5.7.1–5. 187 1. Thessa. 1:6–7. 188 John Chrys. In 1. Thess. hom. 62.399.45–48: διὰ τοῦτο καὶ πτηνὴν Πάρδαλιν αὐτὸν ὁρᾷ ὁ προφήτης, τὸ τάχος καὶ τὸ σφοδρὸν καὶ τὸ πυρῶδες καὶ τὸ ἄφνω που διαπτῆναι τὴν οἰκουμένην μετὰ τροπαίων καὶ νίκης δηλῶν. Trans. Philip Schaff, ed., A select library of the Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers of the Christian Church. 189 We know this anecdote from Valerius Maximus and Aelian’s Varia Historia. See Val. Max. 8.14.ext.2; Ael. VH 4.29. 190 John Chrys. In 1. Thess. hom. 62.399.49–55. 191 See pages 116, 118–119. 192 Cameron 1999, 1–3, 9–11. One of the aims of the work was probably to ensure that Constantine’s three sons would continue Constantine’s policies. Ibid. 3. See also Cameron’s Eusebius’ Vita Constantini and the construction of Constantine (1997). 193 Cameron 1999, 43–44. 194 Euseb. Vit. Const. 1.7–9. The reference to Cyrus is the shortest. For the central role of Moses as a scriptural exemplum, see Cameron 1999, 20–21, 35–39. 195 Euseb. Vit. Const. 7.1. 196 Ibid. 7.2. 197 Tac. Ann. 2.73. See pages 36–38. 198 Euseb. Vit. Const. 7.2. Here we have misinformation – we know that Alexander had a son, though he died young and was not able to rule his new empire. 199 For the baptism and death of Constantine, see Euseb. Vit. Const. 52.4–73. In the above passage, there appears to be a sign of Judeo-Christian thinking. In that thinking, it is essential for a person to have blessed status before God when he or she dies since it impacts his or her status in the afterlife. 200 Euseb. Vit. Const. 1.8.1–4. 201 Cameron 1999, 33. 202 Referred to previously on page 173. 203 Trans. Talbot W. Chambers. John Chrys. In 2. Cor. hom. 61.581.50: καὶ ὁ μὲν Ἀλέξανδρος μετὰ τὴν τελευτὴν αὐτοῦ, διασπασθεῖσαν τὴν ἀρχὴν αὐτοῦ καὶ τέλεον ἀφανισθεῖσαν οὐκ ἐπανήγαγε· πῶς δὲ ἔμελλεν ὁ νεκρός; ὁ δὲ Χριστὸς τότε αὐτὴν μάλιστα ἔστησεν, ὅτε ἐτελεύτησε. 204 Trans. Talbot W. Chambers. John Chrys. In 2. Cor. hom. 61.581.51–53: καὶ τί λέγω περὶ τοῦ Χριστοῦ, ὅπου γε καὶ τοῖς μαθηταῖς αὐτοῦ, μετὰ τὸ τελευτῆσαι, λάμψαι ἔδωκε; ποῦ γὰρ, εἰπέ μοι, τὸ σῆμα Ἀλεξάνδρου; δεῖξόν μοι, καὶ εἰπὲ τὴν ἡμέραν καθ’ ἣν ἐτελεύτησε. 205 Cf. Saunders 2006, 105–107. 206 John Chrys. Ad illum. 2.5. 207 In the Historia Augusta there is a statement about a Roman family that was famous for using amulets which had the image of Alexander. Hist. Aug. Tyr. Trig. 14.4.6. 208 Cf. Tert. Adv. Marci. 1.7.2, where Tertullian calls Alexander, Darius, and Holophernes ‘worthless slaves’ who brought discredit on the name rex. 209 Amitay 2010 aims to connect the life, career, and posthumous reputation of Alexander with that of Jesus Christ. The work intends to relate the myth of Heracles and Alexander to the figure of Jesus. In a similar way, Broad 2015 claims that the title of ‘son of God’, associated with Jesus Christ, derives from the ruler-cult of Alexander. 210 Trans. Hamilton Bryce. Arn. Adv. nat. 1.5.5: ut ex Macedoniae finibus unus exortus adolescens Orientis regna et populos captivitate ac servitio subiugaret, nos fecimus atque excitavimus causas? 211 Cf pages 118–119. 212 Cf. Jer. Epist. 126.2. 213 For a discussion about the growing number of Christian officeholders in the fourth century, see Cameron 2011, 177–178.
Alexander in Christian apologia 213 214 August. De civ. D. 4.4. In his Natural Questions, Seneca qualifies the kingdoms of Philip and Alexander as the result of robberies (latronicia). Sen. Q. Nat. 2.pref.5. It is possible that Augustine has here adopted the vocabulary of Seneca. 215 Cf. Dyson 1998, xxiii, 148. Cf. Cary 1956, 95–96. 216 Trans. William M. Green. August. De civ. D. 4.4: “quod tibi,” inquit, “ut orbem terrarum; sed quia id ego exiguo navigio facio, latro vocor; quia tu magna classe, imperator.” 217 For the negative presentation of pirates in Classical sources from Polybius to Cicero and Strabo, see Souza 1992, 63–97. The words used for pirates and piracy are related those for plunder, Souza 1992, 103–104. 218 Harding 2008, 117–120. 219 In the Latin literature of the Early Empire, Alexander was mostly called rex, not imperator. For example, in Curtius’ work, Alexander is called rex. Cf. Tert. Adv. Marci. 1.7.2. 220 Oros. 3.17.8–9. Cf. 3.15.1. 221 Orosius most likely draws the main events of Alexander’s reign from Justin’s Epitome of the Philippic history of Pompeius Trogus (Just. Epit. 11.2.1–11), some passages even quoted verbatim (cf. A. T. Fear’s 2010 translation and notes). The differences between the presentations of Alexander in these texts are nonetheless notable. Orosius creates a much grimmer picture of the king’s career than Trogus/Justin does. 222 Ibid. 3.18.8–11. In contrast to Justin, Orosius does not mention anything about Alexander repenting after killing Cleitus. 223 Ibid. 3.18.8. 224 Oros. 3.16.12; ibid. 3.18.10. 225 Ibid. 3.20.8–9. The epithets remind us of those used by Seneca and Lucan in earlier Latin literature. 226 On Semiramis, see Oros. 1.4.4–7, and, on Romulus, see Oros. 2.4.2–7. 227 This seems to be evident not only in Orosius’ treatment of Alexander but also in his presentations of other pagan rulers, too. 228 Oros. 3.17.7. Orosius’ main source, Justin (Just. Epit. 11.15), demonstrated that the king had acted chivalrously toward Darius’ family. 229 Oros. 3.20.4. 230 Ibid. 3.20.9. 231 Ibid. 3.20.10. 232 Ibid. 3.20.12. 233 Cf. Oros. 3.20.13. 234 Oros. 3.17.4. 235 Fulg. De aet. mund. et hom. 10.37–40. In addition to Whitbread’s 1971 English translation, see also Stöcker’s 1979 German translation and commentary on Fulgentius’ passage concerning Alexander. Stöcker concentrates on analyzing the possible sources Fulgentius drew on for his narrative. Hayes 2000 further analyzes some of Stöcker’s arguments. 236 Some scholars identify the writer with Claudius Gordianus Fulgentius. 237 Stoneman 2011, 13. Cary saw Fulgentius as the earliest writer to develop the Orosian tradition, which he saw as representing a typical orthodox Christian approach to Alexander. Cary 1956, 135–136. For Fulgentius’ possible sources on his passage about Alexander (besides the Alexander Romance and Orosius), see the notes at Whitbread 1971, 225. 238 Whitbread 1971, 183–184. 239 Fulg. De aet. mund. et hom. 10.38.23–25. 240 Ibid. 10.39.23–25: post haec regni etiam Persici victoria non contentus. 241 Cf. 1. Tim. 6:6–8. 242 Cf. Oros. 3.17.7. 243 Ibid. 10.39.25–30.
214 Alexander in Christian apologia 244 Trans. Leslie George Whitbread. Fulg. De aet. mund. et hom. 10.40.3–5: et quia mundum peragrando parvum sibi esse credidit, ideo tribus contentus sepulchri cubitis obdormiit. discat ergo ex hoc humana natura nihil esse de potentia praesumendum, ex quo mors communiter heres est potentum et pauperum. 245 Fulg. De aet. mund. et hom. 10.40.9: sed quid profuit omnia invicta vincere. 246 Cf. Oros. 3.20.4. 247 Cf. pages 121–122. 248 Domine deus meus – parvum est visu quaerenti Alexandro quod fecisse suffecerat Deo. 249 Cameron 1991, 6. 250 For example, Flower 2013 recently examined the construction of Constantius II as a tyrant in the works of Catholic writers like Athanasius and Hilary, by making references and comparisons to biblical exempla. See Flower 2013, 78–127.
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Re-thinking the exemplarity of the past and the uses of Alexander the Great Is there a historical Alexander, or do we have only his myth? From the moment people, including Alexander himself, began to tell tales of his exploits, Alexander became a ‘brand’, and he has been rebranded over and over again to become one of the most famed historical brands in human history. Images and imagined realities of him are significant even to modern-day consumers. At first sight, the various Greco-Roman presentations of him seem to be responses to the question “Who was the real Alexander?” However, as I have shown in this book, we may conclude that these writers were more interested in the ideological and rhetorical uses of Alexander, an Alexander that was already a semi-mythological figure, an idea and an image as well as a man, by the time they wrote about him. As I have stressed, there were contemporary concerns and personal motivations behind the creations of different images of Alexander in Greco-Roman literature. Ancient authors were concerned with neither historical accuracy nor reality, nor did they attempt to create a ‘real’ or ‘true’ image of Alexander. Rather, they referred to Alexander’s story to promote their own agendas, values, and ideological messages. More than ten years ago, Diana Spencer claimed that the story of Alexander is essentially a Roman story, constructed and developed during the period in which the Roman Empire dominated the Mediterranean world.1 However, most modern scholars on Alexander the Great have not taken this argument into consideration in their research, but, rather, have approached the Roman authors (especially Diodorus, Curtius, Plutarch, Arrian, and Pompeius/Justin) as, more or less, mirrors of the early Hellenistic primary sources.2 Regardless of whether a modern scholar considers Alexander as a Roman creation for a Roman audience or as a tool for presenting negative or positive ‘views’, ‘portraits’, and ‘images’, the factors behind these images have not been sufficiently studied. The various portraits of Alexander were strongly linked to the contemporary context and to the authors’ intentions, ideological perspectives, and imagination. Drawing an argument based on an historical exemplum was a part of the literary culture and the sociopolitical communication of the Roman elite.3 In addition, ancient authors referred to the past because they believed in the evidentiary value
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of exemplary history. Hence, a well-chosen reference to Alexander was a strategy for persuading an audience to accept certain conclusions. Approaching the Roman writers as merely reflecting or copying the Hellenistic writers has dominated scholarly interest for over 150 hundred years. The positivist approaches to Alexander held that scholars could separate the emotive rhetorical presentations from the ‘real history’ in the ‘best’ works, or find the ‘real’ or ‘true’ Alexander in the world of historical exempla.4 Accordingly, a lot of effort has been expended in detecting a few fragments of the Hellenistic era, instead of concentrating on the Roman texts altogether. In the present study, I have demonstrated that when approaching Classical or post-Classical texts referring to Alexander we should take into account the rhetorical and ideological layers. In the case of the contemporary Hellenistic writers, it is impossible to study them since they are lost. For the ancient authors representing different sociocultural groups, the figure of Alexander mattered more as a rhetorical tool than as a historical king living in the fourth century BC. In previous studies, scholars have sometimes referred to the reception of Alexander.5 The term is a valid one but does not accurately reflect the fact that ancient writers were not passive ‘recipients’ or repeaters of earlier narratives about the king, but actors who used those narratives, selecting, emphasizing, and reinterpreting those parts that suited their own rhetorical and ideological ends. In every case, the figure of Alexander was subjected to the author’s hopes and aims, and served to reconstruct the desired sociopolitical present. A writer could have communicated his status and power in society and intended to make an impact on his audience. The literary presentation of the king was conditioned by the writer’s agenda rather than his personal views. The critical or negative portraits of Alexander should not be seen as a proof of the writer’s personal hostility or antipathy towards him.6 However, I am not arguing that ancient writers did not have opinions about Alexander. For example, a Greek Roman writer could have considered the Macedonian king a Greek cultural hero, or a Christian writer may have seen the career of Alexander as an indication of the accuracy of Daniel’s supposed prophecies. However, here I have shown that ancient writers wrote about or referred to Alexander primarily to make an impact on their contemporary audience and to fulfill their rhetorical and ideological intentions. In their passages they used Alexander as part of a rhetorical exercise to make a point about a contemporary situation or problem. A further study could explore the possibility of separating the authors’ personal views of Alexander from the rhetorical layers of their texts. To this end, one object of systematic research could be done to analyze the different epithets associated with the king in the ancient texts. A writer could use different images of Alexander for different purposes. For example, Seneca and John Chrysostom wrote differently about Alexander in different works: sometimes they praised him, sometimes they condemned him. This fact indicates that ancient writers were not primarily interested in giving a coherent view of Alexander; Alexander himself was not their overriding interest, and the various views expressed could draw on a diverse tradition. In fact, in antiquity,
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there was no ‘coherent view’ of Alexander, but instead various strands of different traditions and presentations of Alexander. The use of Alexander was flexible even within various literary genres written in different periods of Roman antiquity. Still, certain anecdotes or stories became commonly used in certain genres. For example, a philosophical writer knew that the encounter between Alexander and Diogenes was frequently used as a reference point in philosophical texts. It is therefore not surprising that the writers in the philosophical genre often refer to the same exemplum. However, philosophers, historians, orators, and theologians may have often used the same rhetorical strategy of persuasion. It was possible for the same person to adopt more than one of these roles, as there were no distinctions between learned disciplines such as today. We have seen above that authors used the different images of Alexander for many purposes. Using the stories of the past, authors warned, accused, praised, persuaded, and defended certain opinions, made self-presentations to further their own careers or ingratiate themselves with power brokers, gave advice, and taught. In the following, I will give a brief summary of the present book, highlighting the different contexts in which the representations of Alexander were used. In the social and political context (chapter 2), the story of Alexander was used to defend an author’s (or his social group’s) status and values. The passages of Alexander were directly connected to contemporary political realities, which concerned writers more than what had ‘really happened’ 400 or 500 years earlier. Besides, for the purpose of flattering the reigning emperor or promoting his policy, the legacy of Alexander was used as a sort of guidebook or manual for the emperor in the world of politics. For example, Curtius’ critical portrait of Alexander can be seen as a dialogue with contemporary senatorial values. In other words, he wished to show how the emperor should exercise his ultimate power in a way that respected the mos maiorum and took into account the expectations of the Roman upper classes. In the same way, Livy’s version of Alexander’s story offerred strong political lessons for his contemporary audience. Indeed, the changing political realities and the audience made a difference in the way Alexander was presented. The differences between the writer of 1 Maccabees and Josephus are a good example: they wrote differently about Alexander because they lived within different political realities and addressed their works to different audiences. Similarly, the Imperial panegyrics of Late Antiquity chose to stress different parts of the king’s story depending on the current emperor’s politics and ideology. In the texts written by Christians and Jews (chapter 5), we saw how the varying images of Alexander were employed to defend the monotheistic doctrine. The uses of Alexander show how early Christians adapted the Classical storehouse of historical exempla to suit their argument. Also, by making reference to Daniel and Josephus, Christian authors used the Jewish tradition, previously not used in Classical literature. Interestingly, the changing status of the Christian Church also impacted how Christian writers wrote about Alexander. In the philosophical texts (chapter 3), the presentation of Alexander and his dealings with Diogenes, Aristotle, and Calanus was designed to support the author’s overall argumentation and the moralistic views he promoted. With the
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references to historical exempla, authors condemned the wrong kinds of conduct by criticizing the bad and praising the right way to act and think. In addition, philosophers and pedagogues of the Classical and post-Classical world not only provided their audience with advice and instruction, but also demonstrated their expertise in paideia through their representations of the king. In another strategy of persuasion, authors drew flattering comparisons between Alexander and their patrons (chapter 4). These comparisons, whether likenesses or distinctions, served to persuade their addressees to think about them favorably. At the same time, the past was used to construct imagined realities in the present. The way in which Alexander acted or did not act functioned as a potential model for the desired cooperation between two socially unequal actors, the author and his audience. In addition, this book has shown that the authors had strong personal interests, since they used the legacy of Alexander as a tool in promoting images of themselves. Writing about Alexander in a certain way stressed the writer’s status and position in society. This motive appears in volume prefaces, in private letters addressed to men of higher rank, and in the works composed for wider audiences. The question of identity was clearly one of the themes authors wanted to promote when referring to Alexander. Interestingly, authors encouraged their audiences to use their shared past in order to form their identities. This is something modern research has sometimes overlooked: instead of speaking of only one Roman identity, we should speak of several identities promoted by the Classical and post-Classical texts.7 By using Alexander, authors made cultural self-definitions and constructed identities of ‘us’ (Latin Romans, sophisticated Greeks, Jews and Christians as the people of almighty God) as opposed to ‘the other’ (barbarians, pagans). They promoted patriotic, religious, and cultural feelings of collective identity. Roman Latin writers could redefine themselves as the greatest race in antiquity by drawing distinctions and comparisons between Alexander and his Roman counterparts. Similarly, the Greeks of the Roman Empire could claim their cultural superiority on the grounds of their idealistic presentation of the king. Later, Jewish and Christian writers constructed identities of ‘insiders’ (fellowbelievers) and ‘outsiders’ (pagans) through their images of Alexander as both a bloodthirsty heathen despot and a conqueror predicted by God’s prophets. In addition, Roman philosophers boosted their collective superiority and distinctive identity, compared to those who were ignorant, through the tales of Alexander’s encounters with ascetic philosophers. Few things changed in the portrayals of Alexander during antiquity. In previous research, the heroic and philhellenic portrayal of Alexander promoted by Greek writers like Plutarch has been related to the Second Sophistic movement.8 However, my study has shown that it is difficult to distinguish certain ‘good/idealizing’ or ‘bad/hostile’ literary presentations of Alexander as appearing only in certain periods of antiquity or in the works of specific writers. These varying portraits existed as rhetorical strategies in all periods, ranging from the Early Empire to Late Antiquity. I am not arguing that a Greek idealistic presentation of Alexander of the Second Sophistic movement did not exist, but rather that the idealistic
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presentation had already been created during the Hellenistic period and that its elements existed also in Late Antiquity. For example, the idealized portrait of Alexander as the philhellenic philosopher – king can be identified in the fourthcentury texts of Julian, Themistius, and Himerius. The most prominent change among the popular presentations of the king is the growth of the Jewish and Christian tradition, where the king’s visit to Jerusalem, or his role as Daniel’s predicted conqueror of the Persian Empire, added new connotations to his expedition. For future study, it would be interesting to investigate how the stock of stories about Alexander circulated in the Roman Empire. It could be suggested that the Roman authors representing different genres followed the story of Alexander that was already established in the Hellenistic corpus. The surviving works of Alexander by Diodorus, Curtius, Plutarch, Arrian, and Pompeius/Justin told the same basic structure of events. They all include the same great battles and sieges; the killing of Cleitus and Callisthenes; the king’s benign treatment of Philip the doctor and Darius’ mother and wife; the battle and meeting with the Indian king Porus; Alexander’s visit to the tomb of Achilles; the trip to the oracle of Ammon; and the decision to wear a Persian costume. Evidently, these stories derived from the early Hellenistic works, which is confirmed by some direct quotations.9 For example, Arrian refers to ‘most historians’ and explicitly mentions Aristobulus’ version when he writes about the Cleitus affair.10 Similarly, we know from Arrian, Plutarch, and Strabo that Alexander’s visit to the oracle of Siwah was included in the histories of Ptolemy, Aristobulus, and Callisthenes, and their accounts were probably still extant in the Early Empire.11 However, the ancient authors rarely mention the source(s) of their information, and it is perhaps impossible (and pointless?) to attempt to detect where a given Roman author had read a certain anecdote of Alexander. Since most of the Hellenistic philosophical texts are lost, it is also challenging to examine whether there were certain exempla popular among the philosophically oriented texts of the early Hellenistic world and, if so, which exempla the Roman philosophical authors followed.12 We are more likely dealing with an intellectual tradition in which the stories about Alexander lived a ‘life of their own’, and of which there must have been a general awareness among the educated Roman elite. It is notable that we do not find stories which appear only in the Alexander Romance exploited in the texts of the Early and Later Empire. The story of Pharaoh Nectanebo II, who seduces Olympias while disguised as a wandering magician and becomes Alexander’s real father, a ‘fact’ Alexander learns only later in his life, forms an important part of the Alexander Romance tradition.13 However, the lengthy tales of Nectanebo’s activities in Macedonia are not referred to explicitly by Roman historians, philosophers, or orators. In the same way, we do not encounter the spectacular and fantastic stories of Alexander confronting headless men, giant hinds, and three-eyed beasts, or tales of the king’s travels to Sicily, Carthage, and even the Land of the Blessed, let alone his aerial and submarine adventures as recounted in other Classical and post-Classical literature concerning Alexander.14 Again, when the Romance tradition refers to characters and anecdotes known from the Alexander histories, they are wildly embellished versions.
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No similar fantasies appeared in the texts analyzed in this study.15 The authors of Late Antiquity do no refer to an epic duel between Alexander and Porus in which the Indian is killed, as in the Romance, while Curtius, Plutarch, and Arrian tell us that Porus regained his power as a sub-king of Alexander.16 However, when it comes to passages where the Romance offers a similar story to those of the Alexander histories, like the anecdote of Alexander and Diogenes, or Philip the doctor, we cannot reject the possibility that the ‘historian’ might have obtained the story from the Romance.17 The first text known to have used the Alexander Romance for some of its source material is Fulgentius’ On the ages of the world and man.18 Hence it can be argued that the Alexander Romance tradition was not in the general consciousness, or even well-known, among the literate Roman elite, but became popular after the collapse of the Western Roman Empire. The Romance tradition itself may have been a reaction to the vast historical tradition that already existed in the early Hellenistic world, and which the Roman authors redeployed. A detailed analysis of the circulation of stories about Alexander is beyond the scope of this present study, but would be a good topic for further research, as would the reasons for the growth of a new ‘fantastic’ genre of Alexander stories. Images of Alexander were exploited uninterruptedly from the first century BC to the sixth century. In all periods of antiquity, the story of Alexander offered philosophical lessons for a contemporary audience. Accordingly, writers of both the Early and Later Empire throughout the Imperial era redefined their relationship with their patrons through the analogies they drew with the story of Alexander. In political and religious contexts, authors could indicate the right way to act and think, or praise the current regime and its representatives. The differences appear primarily in terms of the time and place in which individual authors composed their works and gave reconsidered meanings to the remote past. Through the different uses of Alexander, we can trace the cultural phenomenon of imitatio Alexandri. In previous research, the role of imitatio Alexandri in art and literature has been recognized as part of a real imitation and political presentation of Hellenistic rulers, Roman generals, and emperors.19 Accordingly, the literary sources I have analyzed in this study can be seen against the backdrop of imitatio Alexandri. In the cultural milieu in which the king was so often connected with the policy and propaganda of monarchs and emperors, the mere reference to Alexander in and of itself contained an encouragement (imperative) to imitate the king. This phenomenon was turned upside down when the writer stressed the negative qualities of the king to show what to avoid. Imitatio Alexandri was a concept of which all the Classical and post-Classical writers were aware when writing about Alexander. The intended audience of the texts was elite male Roman society. This audience was expected to be well acquainted with the different stories of Alexander. The writers were conscious of a strong cultural memory and of the evidentiary value of Alexander, and therefore made favorable comparisons between Alexander and their audience. As Diana Spencer’s Roman Alexander showed, the element of ‘thinking with’ Alexander was a strong force in Roman antiquity.20 Spencer wrote about the Romans’ fascination with, or horror of, Alexander’s story.21 However, the figure
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of Alexander was not just an instrument for thinking, but also part of the exercise of rhetoric. Writers played the ‘Alexander card’ in literary contexts they found useful. The decision to write a whole monograph on Alexander, as Curtius did, can be considered a politically and socially motivated one – it was a reaction to the concept of imitatio Alexandri. The rhetorical strategy based on imitatio Alexandri could work both ways: Alexander was both a warning example and a role model. The basic idea behind the many literary portraits of Alexander and their uses was the exemplarity of history – historia magistra vitae. Imitatio Alexandri was based on the theory that the past could offer models, examples, and lessons for the present. The several versions of the story of Alexander in the literary tradition were considered a stock of lessons for contemporary audiences. However, seeing the ancient writers as neutral media for teaching ‘lessons’ of the past would be naïve. The various authors offered subjective judgments which often reflected their own arguments, personal concerns, and values, and sometimes reflected the propaganda of the elites or the emperor himself – all presented under the veil of ‘teaching’.
Writing the past to shape the present In the premodern world, the past was considered as a self-evident source of wisdom for individuals and societies. However, this book has stressed the complicated nature of this ‘wisdom’, and the historical context of using the past to shape the present. Authors had certain political or cultural agendas, so to speak, concerning the ‘present’ they were trying to shape. To achieve their goals, they had to select the narratives they chose to explore, and the interpretation of these narratives was guided by the rhetorical impact the authors wished to make on their audience. Rhetorical practice when referring to the distant past was strongly guided by the contemporary world and its concerns. Therefore, the ‘wisdom’ derived from historical exempla was related to the subjective interests and rhetorical agendas of the authors. This present book has not only shown how the past was used in the Roman world, but has also shown the importance of these functions in understanding the various literary presentations. When scholars today write biographies of historical figures, instead of merely separating fact from fiction, attention should be paid to the original functions and rhetorical uses of the ancient texts. Spencer (2002), Icks (2011), and Stocks (2014) have laudably demonstrated the value of studying the different images of Alexander, Emperor Elagabalus, and Hannibal as well as trying to detect the reality behind these figures. More can still be done, especially in terms of exploring the rhetoric and ideologies behind the various depictions of the historical figures of antiquity. The approach of this book could be applied to other Classical, mythological, or biblical figures or famous historical episodes as well as personalities. As we know, ancient authors had a large stock of ‘lives’ to refer to, including those of Cyrus the Great, Scipio Africanus, Pompey, Julius Caesar, and Augustus, or Socrates and Diogenes. Similarly, biblical literature is full of references to the lives of famous men of the past
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(kings and prophets), both good and bad, which Jewish and Christian readers were familiar with. These same figures continued to be used for rhetorical and ideological purposes throughout the Middle Ages, and even in modern times, thus, there would be a wide scope of options for analysis of this nature. Therefore, I suggest that future research trace the ideological, rhetorical, and personal messages and aspirations that authors used to emphasize the past in ancient literature in order to shape the present. Such research would add to our knowledge of the positioning and valuing of the past in the ancient world, a topic studied only on a small scale, by Clarke (1990) and Ker (2014). In Classical scholarship, there is a strong tendency to approach ancient texts through the framework of a genre. Thus, previous research (on the uses of the past) has concentrated on analyzing the texts as representatives of a certain genre like panegyric or prose history.22 Sometimes scholarly interest has focused on the techniques of the writers.23 However, in this study, I have demonstrated that history was used quite similarly in all literary genres of Antiquity, even though the literary form and style may have differed. Prose histories, epic poems, private letters, philosophical treaties, orations, and sermons portray or refer to the past substantially in the same way. Classical writers valued the past and collections of historical exempla. The various functions of the exemplary history concerning the life and character of Alexander reflect a genuine respect for the past as a provider of salutary moral lessons for the present and future. Even though we do not have access to contemporary reactions to these presentations, we can be pretty sure that writers would not have repeatedly referred to the famous historical figures if they had not added value to their literature. In the preface to Ab urbe condita, Livy described it as ‘beneficial’ and ‘fruitful’ to study the past. Regarding the exemplarity of the past, he wrote: “From these [historical exempla] you may choose for yourself and for your own state what to imitate, from these mark for avoidance what is shameful in the conception and shameful in the result.”24 As I have shown, this statement could be understood in the broader context of Classical and post-Classical literary culture. The exemplarity of the past was a common concept shared by several other Greek and Roman writers, not only in Classical culture, but also in medieval and Early Modern times.25 As I have stated, the past itself does not give lessons, but these lessons are offered by ‘interpreters of the past’ – individuals operating with rhetorical aims and public or personal interest and who are affected by the norms of their contemporary society. Unlike rhetoric, history was not an autonomous discipline in the ancient school system. Reading the works of historians could have been required of students of grammar or rhetoric.26 Hence authors like Cicero thought that an orator should have a wide education including the study of history to enhance his performance.27 Similarly, in rhetorical theory, there existed articulated norms for using historical exempla in oratory. However, the ancient Greek and Roman historians stated the motives and goals for their history-writing: Herodotus wrote to preserve great deeds from oblivion, Thucydides provided practical lessons from the past, and both Livy and Tacitus offered exempla for conduct, and to allow men to distinguish good from evil.28 In many cases, ancient writers stressed their impartial
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stance.29 Even though history was regarded as a type of literature in the Classical world, which involved telling the stories of the past accurately, none of these ancient historians was a neutral transmitter of knowledge, since they wished to propagate certain values and ideas in their works. Similarly, references to the past in philosophical treaties, speeches, poems, or epistles did not serve simply to commemorate the past, or to offer objective or neutral instructions in the present. Instead, they served to direct the thinking of a contemporary audience, and to strengthen the shared values of society. Even the author of Classical epic not only entertained his audience but also transmitted certain values through stories of the past. It may be argued whether the supposed exemplarity of the past is always present when people write about or recount the past. Stories of people thought to live in the remote or immediate past always contain some evidentiary value, or applicability to defend or attack (at least implicitly) certain actions or ways of thinking. This seems to be the case in the modern era, too. Modern historians produce accounts on the past based on original source material. At the same time, there are historical novels and films loosely based on ‘real’ figures of the past. In every case, the element of learning from history or promoting contemporary values is present. The researcher or artist transmits a story of the past containing moral, religious, and philosophical teachings, or addressing political and economic issues. In this book we have observed that the process of referring to historical exempla was always connected with the time and place in which a given author wrote. Even though the story itself was well known to the audience, it was the writer, and the text confronting the audience, which gave new meaning to the famous or infamous stories of the past. In this sense, it is not justifiable to approach the exempla and the ancient past as unchanging, already ‘canonized’ and complete, but to understand that the meaning ascribed to an historical exemplum was always redefined by contemporary sociopolitical realities. Essential was the unique form that the famous event, presented as an exemplum, could receive when a writer referred to a distinct historical or mythological event or individual. As an illustration, Alexander’s assassination of his general and friend Cleitus could provide many ‘didactic lessons’ serving different purposes, themes, and arguments depending on the writer. In fact, this is how the exemplarity of the past seems to work in all periods. The same historical (or fictional) story can be used to reinforce a variety of teachings or values depending on the way it is presented. This study has stressed the important role of history in forming groups and constructing cultural and national identities. Just as dress or common language signified culture, presentations of the past constructed identities in the ancient world (often done by classifying people or peoples as us and the other), primarily with the intention of strengthening the unity of ‘us’, the group the writer saw himself as belonging to, but in doing so constructing the ‘other’.30 An interesting topic for future research would be to explore the function of history as a means of constructing specific identities, including ethnic and cultural groups, in antiquity. By scrutinizing a large number of texts, one might try to distinguish certain consistent ways that a particular group of authors wrote about the past/historical anecdotes in order to construct a desired group identity. One group of writers
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whose texts could be approached from this perspective could be philosophers or philosophically oriented writers.
Use and abuse of history? In principle, the use of history as a means of persuasion in the Classical and postClassical period does not seem to differ from the way history has been used in subsequent periods. The slogan ‘he who controls the past, controls the present’ could be even more valid in the modern age of mass media and the internet. Constructing the past is still used in re-creating the present and categorizing identities. Thus, it can be argued that the ideological aspect of the exemplarity of the past does not belong to the world of antiquity alone. When a modern scholar, journalist, or novelist writes about Alexander, the underlying questions remain the same: whether the king should be presented as a great military tactician, as a clement politician, or as a dislikable egoist who slaughtered his friends. Even though modern historians do not write their works with the purpose of giving moral lessons, they may still create narratives carrying ethical judgments and moralizing portrayals. This has been the case, for example, in the scholarly biographies published in the 20th century. In the works of Bosworth (1988), O’Brien (1992), and Gabriel (2015), the story of Alexander represented destructive imperialism and autocracy driven by megalomania and alcoholism. On the other hand, in other scholarly works, such as Tarn’s (1948) or Hammond’s (1981, 1997), the reign of Alexander reflected an ideal of world dominion in which conquered nations lived under a benign regime.31 An even clearer use of the Alexander of the past as a lesson for the present is Frank Holt’s monograph on Alexander the Great’s war in Bactria and Sogdiana, titled Into the Land of Bones – Alexander the Great in Afghanistan (2005) in which Alexander’s war is offered as a lesson and warning for US forces in modern Afghanistan.32 In modern research, the question of using or abusing history is a delicate one. To put it simply, we, as scholars, tend to categorize a ‘right’ (based on facts, true in moral sense) and ‘wrong’ (popular, untrue and morally harmful) way to use history. Partly, this has been the result of the emergence of history as a separate field of learning, a field of science. Also, the 20th century saw some of the most traumatic, horrible, and controversial events of mankind’s history (to name a few, the Holocaust, the application of eugenics, and the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki); scholars feel something of a universal, collective responsibility for how these stories are retold. Moreover, since the 1930s and World War II, the use of history has been perceived with caution and criticism, due to the way the autocratic Fascist and Nazi regimes used history to justify their causes. In the preface to Margaret MacMillan’s Dangerous games – The uses and abuses of history, the abuse of history is defined as the creation of one-sided or false histories to justify treating others badly, seizing their land, or killing them. She writes: “We abuse it when we create lies about the past or write histories that show only one perspective.”33 However, in the context of the Classical and post-Classical period, the concept of ‘abusing history’ is rather anachronistic. Did Curtius, Josephus, Plutarch, or
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Augustine abuse history when they wrote about Alexander? The Classical writers were not primarily interested in the ‘truthfulness’ or ‘historicity’ of the passages about Alexander. In the ancient historical genre, there was an ideal of impartiality concerning the literary presentations – historians were expected to write accounts without unnecessary flattery. However, as I have demonstrated in this book, the goal of written accounts was often about defending certain views or lines of argumentation through historical exempla. If the writer’s/orator’s arguments sounded reasonable and justified, the audience accepted his statements. Of course, the audience had the right to reject the arguments and the opinions expressed. However, we have no evidence that the audience had valued or estimated the descriptions of Alexander’s legacy or exempla from the perspective of the ‘abuse of history’. Historical accuracy or historical objectivity was not at issue. The famous Roman rhetorician and philosopher Cicero referred to history as magistra vitae when he described the way in which orators could exploit historical exempla.34 Interestingly, the question of using and abusing history in Alexander’s case is still relevant today. Perhaps the most striking, and the most political, example is the debate between Greece and the Republic of Macedonia, who are engaged in an ongoing controversy concerning the use of Alexander’s legacy and the ‘brand’ of ancient Macedon for national identification and as a national symbol. The figure of Alexander is a part of the national, ethnic, and regional identity of the inhabitants of both countries. Nationalistic Greeks have strongly argued that the Macedonians – who they claim to be of Slavic descent – have no right to use the legacy of ancient Macedonia and they consider themselves the only rightful ‘heirs’ of Alexander. According to them, the Macedonians are abusing history by considering Philip II and Alexander as their ancestors and giving them a place as central figures in their national history. This debate has been carried on in both academic and political fields.35 Naming airports and highways after Alexander and building statues of him (such as the 12-meter tall bronze statue in the main square of Skopje) have provoked strong criticism of the modern Macedonians by the Greeks in recent decades. This controversial issue has motivated research, much of it of doubtful scholarly value, concerning the language of ancient Macedonia, or the ethnic background of the ancient Macedonians.36 *** According to modern theories of history, scholars should appreciate the distinctive and unique character of the past; the distant past has not much in common with modern realities and societies, and, thus, drawing comparisons between the past and present should be avoided.37 However, in the Roman world, the past was not a ‘foreign country’, considered something different from the present. In ancient thinking, the past and the actions of its individuals offered models and reminders to the contemporary world. King Alexander of Macedon, who lived several hundred years prior to the authors considered in this book, was consistently compared with contemporary rulers, or set as an example for subsequent rulers. In the ancient world, the relationship between the past and present was perhaps more practical than it is today, since the lessons derived from the actions
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or sayings of the great men of the past were seen beneficial to the members of the Greco-Roman elite. In this study, I have demonstrated that the interest in commemorating and memorializing the past is connected to the potential uses of history. In other words, history is memorialized and commemorated because it is considered a useful reference point. Sociopolitical realities determine the interest in how and why to write about the past. The reason that Alexander has been a popular figure in history is not only because of his extraordinary and semi-mythical career and achievements, but because of the ideological and rhetorical power of his story. The fact that he died suddenly, before reaching the age of 33, meant that he was not able to control his literary heritage, unlike Augustus, for example, who reigned for 40 years and died at the age of 76. The history of mankind offers us a vast and innumerable number of potential stories which may be used as a tool in presenting subjective views and as a vehicle for political propaganda. In antiquity, Alexander and his legacy was used to defend opposing viewpoints and promote opposing ends. The many-faced Alexander, whether characterized as a brutal conqueror, a mass murderer, a proud tyrant, a pagan king, a valiant soldier, a brave general, a visionary statesman, a philosopher, an eternal explorer, or the extravagant slave of his injurious passions, brilliantly evokes the diversity of the past and gives us a broad panorama on the use of history in the long period of Roman antiquity.
Notes 1 Spencer 2002, xiv – xv. 2 For a critique of the approach, see Davidson 2001; Beard 2011. Bowden 2014a, 102 belongs to group of scholars who have paid attention to Spencer’s argument. 3 Cf. Stoneman 2016, 177. 4 Cf. Bosworth 1996, 3–5; Heckel 2008, 6–12. Bowden 2014a, 5 wrote that, despite decades of research, we still have no reliable method for determining which accounts can be trusted. Briant 2015, 428 states that our uncertainty about the ‘real’ Alexander has increased since it is a tricky matter to establish a methodological and cognitive link between image and reality. 5 For the occurrence of the term ‘reception’ in previous research, see Baynham 2009; Spencer 2009, 260, 268. 6 Cf. Centanni 2010, 28, who writes about Seneca’s and Livy’s attacks against Alexander, or Bellemore 2015, 316, who writes about Valerius’ positive image of Alexander as proof that the Macedonian king was not only a military genius but also a man of great religious observance. 7 In the scholarly treatments of classical texts concerning Alexander, only Diana Spencer has referred to the concept of identity: cf. Spencer 2002, 31–32. Instead of seeing several identities, Spencer refers to one Roman identity, which had to be redefined after the Punic Wars and the Roman expansion into Greece. 8 Asirvatham defines Greek writers who gave an idealizing portrait of Alexander as the ‘Second Sophistic authors’ (cf. Asirvatham 2010a, 203), or refers to the label for Alexander in the Second Sophistic (Asirvatham 2010b, 113). 9 Cf. Curt. 9.5.21; Arr. an. 1.1.1–3. In Jewish and Christian texts, we encounter a tradition which does not appear in the five surviving Alexander histories. Therefore, it could be argued that euhemeristic information in Alexander’s letter to Olympia and the king’s
Conclusion
10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17
18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31
32
33 34 35 36 37
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visit to Jerusalem did not appear in the early Hellenistic histories. Obviously this argument is based on mere speculation – an argumentum ex silentio. Arr. an. 4.8.9. Arr. an. 3.3.5–6; Plut. Alex. 27.3; Strab. 17.43. Cf. Flavius Philostratus referring to the works of the companions of Alexander: see Philostr. VA 2.9. As an exception, for an explicit quotation from a Hellenistic philosopher writing about Alexander, see Quint. Inst. 1.2.8–9, where Quintilian cites Diogenes of Babylon’s passage about Alexander’s relationship with his pedagogue Leonides. Alex. Rom. 1.1–14, 34. Alex. Rom. 1.29–31, 2.33, 36–40. Alex. Rom. 3.4. Cf. Pan. Lat. 10.10.2–6; Them. Or. 15.190c – d; Itin. Alex. 49.111. Arr. an. 5.19.2–3; Curt. 8.14.41–45; Plut. Alex. 60.14–15; Plut. Mor. De cohib. ira 458b. For the story of Philip the doctor and Alexander, see Alex. Rom. 1.41, 2.8. For the legendary meeting between Alexander and Diogenes, see 1.27. The stories of the Pamphylian miracle, Homer as a poet whom Alexander praises, and the Indian Brahmans encountering Alexander in a wisdom-contest also appear in the Romance: see Alex. Rom. 1.28, 42, 3.5–6. Stoneman 2008, 201; Stoneman 2011, 13. Cf. Isager 1992, 75–76. For the role of imitatio Alexandri in Imperial art, see Hannestad 1993. Cf. Spencer 2009, 251–252. Cf. Spencer 2009, 270. For example, the articles published in Graham 1990. Cf. Nixon 1990, 8–17. Trans. B. O. Foster. Liv. pref. 10: inde tibi tuaeque rei publicae quod imitere capias, inde foedum inceptu, foedum exitu, quod vites. Hampton 1990 shows the authority of the past in providing lessons during the Renaissance. The main foundation of teaching was imitation, and paradigms were a fundamental didactic tool. The paradigmatic texts were both models and vehicles for ethical content. Nicolai 2007, 19. Cic. Orator 1.18, 201, 256. See also Wiseman 1979, 37–38. Hdt. 1.pref; Thuc. 1.1.4–5; Liv. pref. 10; Tac. Ann. 3.65.1, 4.33.2. See also Diod. Sic. 1.1.4–5. See also Polybius, etc. Wiseman 1979, 38. For example, Tacitus famously wrote sine ira et studio. Cf. Huskinson 2000, 7–10. Atkinson 2009, 42, aptly writes that nothing will stop politicians and filmmakers from making whatever point they wish to make, and that there is no guarantee that champions of value-free scholarship will come any closer to the true nature of the historical Alexander. Cf. Holt’s preface to the 2011 edition of the book. Holt gave an interview during which he claimed that Alexander’s experiments contained lessons for the guerrilla war that the USA and its allies face in their war against the Taliban regime. For uses of Alexander’s alleged guerrilla war in Afghanistan as a provider of lessons for the US troops in Afghanistan, see Howe 2015, 152–153. MacMillan 2009, xi. Cic. De or. 2.36. For the dispute between modern Greece and the Republic of Macedonia regarding the use of ancient Macedon and Alexander as national symbols, see Danforth 2010, 572–598. See also Danforth 1995. For the politicization of ancient history, see Danforth 2010, 586–587. For arguments against scholars who support copyrighting of the history of Macedonia or Alexander, see esp. Willi 2009. Arnold 2000, 122.
Appendix 1 Primary sources
Passages concerning Alexander are marked * (these passages either mention Alexander by name or probably refer to him). Ael. VH Alex. Rom.
Ammian. Marc. Aph. Dem. App. B. Civ. App. Mith. Apul. Flo. Aristid. Or. Arist. Pol. Arist. Rh. Arn. Adv. nat. Arr. an.
Aelian, Varia historia 3.23*, 4.29*, 5.12* Historia Alexandri Magni 1.1–14*, 1.13*, 1.16*, 1.22*, 1.27* (recensio Y), 1.29–31*, 1.34*. 1.41–42*, 2.8*, 2.13.1–2*, 2.24* (recensio Y), 2.33, 36–40*, 3.3.2–4*, 3.4–6* Ammianus Marcellinus, Res gestae 16.5.4–5*, 24.4.27*, 25.4.15*, 26.8.15* Aphrahat, Demonstrationes V.3, 7, V.5.1–25* Appian, Bella civilia 2.149–154* Appian, Mithridatica 117* Apuleius, Florida 7* Aristides, Orationes 26.14–15, 20–23, 26.24–27* Aristotle, Ta politika 1.1252a – b Aristotle, Rhetorike 1.368a.19–26, 1.1356b.1–35, 2.1393a.1 – b.30 Arnobius, Adversus nationes 1.5.5* Arrian, Aleksandrou anabasis 1.1.1–2*, 1.3.5*, 1.11.2, 7–8*, 1.12.1–5*, 1.13.2*, 1.26.1*, 2.4.8–11*, 2.12.6–8*, 2.14.7*, 2.20.10*, 3.3.1*, 3.7.5*,
Appendix 1 229
Arr. Ind. Athenagoras Leg. Ath. August. De civ. D. Auson. Biss. Auson. Ep. Basil. Epist. Basil. Ad adolesc. Cass. Dio. Cic. Arch. Cic. Att. Cic. Cat. Cic. Fam. Cic. Tusc.
Cic. Inv. Cic. Leg. Cic. Off. Cic. De or.
3.10.1–2*, 4.9.1–3*, 4.26.1–3*, 5.19.2–3*, 6.9.1–10.4*, 6.28.1–2*, 7.1.6*, 7.2.1–4*, 7.3.1–6*, 7.29.1–2*, 7.30.1–3* Arrian, Indica 20.1–3* Athenagoras, Legatio pro Christianis 28* Athenaeus, Deipnosophistai 6.258b*, 11.101, 12.53, 12.55* Augustine, De civitate Dei 4.4*, 8.5.1, 8.27*, 12.11.30–35*, 18.26, 18.45* Ausonius, Bissula 9* Ausonius, Epistulae 12* Basil, Epistulae 1.24*, 2.94*, 2.272* Basil, Oratio ad adolescentes 7.7–8, 7.9* Cassius Dio, Historiae Romanae 51.3.5–7*, 51.16.4, 5*, 59.4.4, 59.17.3*, 68.29.1*, 78.7.1–4*, 78.7.4–8.4*, 88.9.1* Marcus Tullius Cicero, Pro Archia 24.1–5*, 24.5–10 Marcus Tullius Cicero, Epistulae ad Atticum 5.20* Marcus Tullius Cicero, In Catilinam 2.12 Marcus Tullius Cicero, Epistulae ad familiares 5.12.6–7* Marcus Tullius Cicero, Tusculanae disputationes 3.9.21*, 4.39–50, 54, 4.37.79*, 5.25, 32.92–93* Marcus Tullius Cicero, De inventione rhetorica 1.30.49 Marcus Tullius Cicero, De legibus 1.5 Marcus Tullius Cicero, De officiis 1.74–76, 1.78, 1.90*, 1.150–151, 3.102 Marcus Tullius Cicero, De oratore 2.169
230 Appendix 1 Cic. Rep. Cic. QF Claud. Cons. Hon. Claud. Stil. Clem. Al. Paid. Clem. Al. Protr. Curt.
Cypr. Epist. Dio Chrys. Or. Diod. Sic.
Diog. Ep. Diog. Laert. Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. Ennod. Pan. Theod. Euseb. Vit. Const. Excerpt. Lat. barb.
Marcus Tullius Cicero, De republica 1.38.59–60 Marcus Tullius Cicero, Epistulae ad Quintum fratrem 1.37–40 Claudianus, De consulatu Honorii 374–377* Claudianus, De consulatu Stilichonis 1.266–269* Clemens Alexandrinus, Paidagogos 1.7.55.1.1–4*, 1.7.55.2.9–58.2.5 Clemens Alexandrinus, Protrepticus 4.48*, 10.78* Quintus Curtius Rufus, Historiae Alexandri Magni Macedonis 3.1.16*, 3.3.22*, 3.6.1–19*, 3.12.16–20*, 4.2.4*, 4.5.9*, 4.6.17, 30*, 4.7.8–9, 25–31*, 4.9.2*, 4.13.4, 8–9, 5.2.5*, 6.2.1–5*, 6.5.23–32*, 6.6.1–5, 7–9, 11, 14–17*, 7.4.19*, 7.8.12–30*, 8.1.16–17, 22–27*, 8.2.1–13*, 8.5.5, 8*, 8.10.7–18*, 8.14.41–45*, 9.4.30–5.19*, 9.18.5*, 10.3.3*, 10.5.10, 26–37*, 10.6.11, 13*, 10.9.1–6* Cyprian, Epistulae 1.3.1–3* Dio Chrysostomus, Orationes 1.50, 56, 84, 2.1–79*, 4.1–139* Diodorus Siculus, Bibliotheca historica 1.1.4–5, 17.1.3–4*, 17.17.5*, 17.31.2, 4–6*, 17.37.5–6*, 17.38.3–7*, 17.98.1–99.6*, 17.106.1, 17.107.2–6*, 17.108.3*, 17.114.2*, 17.107.1–6*, 17.117.5*, 20.20.1 Epistula ad Diognetum 33*, 24* Diogenes Laertius, Apophthegmata tōn philosophōn 5.2.44, 6.2.32* Dionysius Halicarnassus, Antiquitates Romanae 1.4.2–3 Ennodius, Panegyricus Theoderico 17.79, 80* Eusebius, Vita Constantini 1.7–9, 1.7.1–2*, 1.8.1–4, 52.4–73 Excerpta Latina Barbari 6.5.17*
Appendix 1 231 Fulg. De aet. mund. et hom. Gel. NA Greg. Nyss. Epist. Hdn. Hdt. Himer. Or. Hist. Aug. M. Ant. Hist. Aug. Prob. Hist. Aug. Tyr. Trig. Hom. Il. Hor. Ars P. Hor. Epist. Hor. Epod. Isid. Chron. Itin. Alex. Jer. Comment. in Dan. Jer. C. Ruf. Jer. Ep. Jer. Chron. Jer. Vita Hil. Jord. Get. Jos. AJ
Fulgentius, De aetatibus mundi et hominis 10.37–40* Aulus Gellius, Noctes Atticae 7.8.1–5* Gregory of Nyssa, Epistulae 8.1.1–5* Herodian, Ab excessu divi Marci 4.8.1, 9* Herodotus, Historiae 1.pref, 1.29. Himerius, Orationes 48.14*, 48.34, 54.4*, 6 Historia Augusta, Marcus Aurelius Antonius (Caracalla) 2.1* Historia Augusta, Probus 1.1, 1.2* Historia Augusta, Tyranni Triginta 14.4.6* Homer, Iliad 9.189, 9.413 Horatius, Ars poetica 5.357 Horatius, Epistulae 2.1.225, 230, 2.1.232–244* Horatius, Epodi 16 Isidorus Hispalensis, Chronica maiora 50* Itinerarium Alexandri 2.4–5*, 3.6–7, 4.8–11, 15.37*, 49.111* Jerome, Commentariorum in Danielem 622b, 633a*, 666a* Jerome, Apologiae contra Rufinum 3.40* Jerome, Epistulae 107.4*, 126.2 Jerome, Chronica 204.4–5* Jerome, Vita Hilarionis pref. 9–11* Jordanes, Getica 23.116* Josephus, Antiquitates Judaicae 2.16.334–345, 2.16.347–348*, 9.1.7–15, 10.265–281, 10.1.11–23, 11.6.184–296,
232 Appendix 1
Jos. Ap. Jos. BJ John Chrys. Ad illum. John Chrys. Adv. mon. John Chrys. Adv. Iud. John Chrys. De s. Bab. John Chrys. In 2. Cor. hom. John Chrys. In Thess. hom. Jul. Adv. Galil. Jul. Epist. Jul. Or. Just. Epit. Juv. Lib. Epist. Lib. Or. Liv.
10.273–274*, 11.306–312, 11.318–319*, 11.321–324*, 11.326*, 11.326–328*, 11.330–339*, 11.333–334*, 11.340–345*, 12.251, 253–254 Josephus, Contra Apionem 1.1.3, 2.4.33–37* Josephus, Bellum Judaicum 5.3.114, 5.6.261, 5.9.361, 5.13.541, 6.5.281–315, 6.7.365 John Chrysostomus, Catacheses ad illuminados 2.5* John Chrysostomus, Adversus oppugnatores vitae monasticae 2.4*, 2.5* John Chrysostomus, Adversus Iudaeos 5.7.1–5* John Chrysostomus, De Babyla contra Iulianum et gentiles 45.1, 46.7–11* John Chrysostomus, In epistulam ii ad Corinthios 61.580.47–54*, 61.581.50–53* John Chrysostomus, In epistulam i ad Thessalonicenses 62.399.45–55* Julianus, Adversus Galilaeos 218b Julianus, Epistulae 47.433c* Julianus, Orationes 1.10b*, 1.41b – c*, 1.42d, 1.43a*, 1.45b – d*, 1.46a – b*, 2.55b*, 6.20.17–20* Justinus, Epitome Trogus 11.2.1–11*, 11.5.12*, 11.8.3–6*, 11.15* Juvenal, Satires 10.168–171*, 14.310–315* Libanius, Epistulae 38.6* Libanius, Orationes 15.2*, 15.14–15, 59.24–25*, 53–54*, 59.60 Titus Livius, Ab urbe condita pref. 10, 8.10*, 8.24.5–13, 9.16.11–19*, 9.17.2, 4–15*, 9.18.1–6*, 9.18.9, 18–19*, 19.1–17*
Appendix 1 233 Luc. Dial. mort. Luc. Hist. conscr. Luc. Pro imag. Luc. Ind. Luc. 1. Macc. 2. Macc. Max. Tyr. M. Aur. Med. Min. Fel. Origen C. Cels. Origen Phil. Oros. Pallad. De gentibus Indiae
Pan. Lat.
Paus. Philo Cher. Philo Leg. Philo Op.
Lucian, Dialogi mortuorum 12.1, 3–6*, 13* Lucian, Quomodo historia conscribenda sit 12.15–21* Lucian, Pro imaginibus 9.1–15* Lucian, Adversus indoctum 21.5–10* Marcus Annaeus Lucanus, Bellum civile 10.10–20, 10.20–50* Maccabees 1.1–10*, 1.23, 1.25, 1.44–51 Maccabees 3.14 Maximus of Tyre, Dialexeis 29.2*, 32.9* Marcus Aurelius, Ta eis heauton 8.3* Minucius Felix, Octavius 21* Origen, Contra Celsum pref. 6, 1.2, 9, 14, 27, 3.44, 50, 55, 59, 74, 75, 5.50.9–14*, 5.50.22–23, 6.12, 13–14 Origen, Philocalia 23.4–5, 23.5.1–15, 23.5.20–45* Orosius, Historiarum adversum paganos 1.4.4–7, 2.4.2–7, 3.15.1*, 3.16.12–13*, 3.17.4, 8–9*, 3.18.8–11*, 3.20.4, 8–10, 12* Palladius, De gentibus Indiae et Bragmanibus 1.1, 2.2, 13–57*, 2.15.1–2*, 2.17, 2.39.10*, 2.27.1*, 2.28.1*, 2.30.6–7* XII Panegyrici Latini II.8.3–5*, VI.17.1–2*, X.10.2–6*, X.4.1–2, 9.4–5, 11.6–7, XII.1.4–5, XII.4.2–4, XII.4.3*, XII.5.1–3*, XII.6.1, XII.10.1–2; XII.24.1 Pausanias, Graeciae descriptio 9.7.2* Philo Judaeus, De cherubim 63.4–64.1* Philo Judaeus, De legatione ad Gaium 14–21 Philo Judaeus, De opificio mundi 4.17*
234 Appendix 1 Philo Quod omn. Philostr. VA Plaut. Mostell. Plin. HN Polyb. Polyn. Strat. Plut. Mor. Ad princ. inerud. Plut. Mor. De Alex. Fort.
Plut. Mor. De cohib. ira Plut. Mor. De Exil. Plut. Vit. Alex.
Plut. Vit. Aem. Plut. Vit. Caes. Plut. Vit. Cat. Plut. Vit. Pomp. Plut. Vit. Demetr. Procop. Goth.
Philo Judaeus, Quod omnis probus liber sit 93.1–97.5* Philostratus, Vita Apollonii 2.9* Plautus, Mostellaria 775* Pliny (Maior), Naturalis historia 5.62*, 7.26, 95, 125*, 8.10*, 14.7*, 34.48*, 35.93–94* Polybius, Historiai 1.2.4.1, 1.63.9, 18.12.2, 29.21.2–6*, 31.25.10 Polyaenus, Strategemata 1.1.1–5, 4.3.1*, 4.3.10*, 4.3.32.1–45*, 4.3.32.71–74* Plutarch, Ad principem ineruditum 782a* Plutarch, Moralia, De Alexandri Magni fortuna aut virtute 327a – 328a*, 329b – d*, 329b – 330d*, 331e – 332c*, 332b – c*, 334d*, 335c – f*, 338d – e*, 340e – 341c* Plutarch, De cohibenda ira 458b* Plutarch, De exilio 605d – e Plutarch, Alexander 2.1*, 4.1*, 5.4–5*, 7.1–5, 8.2–4*, 9.1–6*, 13.1–2*, 14.3*, 16.1–4, 7*, 16.3*, 19.4–10*, 17.3–4*, 20.4*, 21.4–5*, 22.1–2, 4–5*, 23.1, 3–4*, 31.11–12*, 32.2*, 33.3–4*, 40.1–3*, 41.1–2*, 42.2*, 45.1*, 57.1–2*, 60.14–15*, 65.5.1–4*, 72. 3–4*, 75.3–4* Plutarch, Aemilius 12.9, 11–12* Plutarch, Caesar 11.5–6*, 26.95* Plutarch, Cato 6.2–3 Plutarch, Pompeius 2.1*, 13.3–6*, 46.1* Plutarch, Demetrius 25.3–4* Procopius, De bello Gothico 2.2.12–13, 14–15*
Appendix 1 235 Quint. Inst. Rhet. ad Her. Sen. Suas. Sen. Ben. Sen. Clem. Sen. Ep.
Sen. Ira
Sen. Q. Nat. Sid. Apoll. Carm. Sid. Apoll. Epist. Sil. Pun. Simplic. Comm. in Epictet. enchir. Sozom. Hist. eccl. Strab. Suet. Aug. Suet. Calig. Suet. Iul. Symm. Ep. Symm. Or.
Quintilianus, Institutio oratoria 1.2.8–9*, 1.23–24*, 3.7, 4.21, 5.11 Rhetorica ad Herennium 2.29.46, 4.49.62 Lucius Seneca maior, Suasoriae 1.3*, 4* Lucius Seneca minor, De beneficiis 1.13.1–3*, 2.16.1–2*, 5.4.4*, 7.2.3 Lucius Seneca minor, De clementia 1.1.2–4, 1.25.1* Lucius Seneca minor, Epistulae 59.11–12*, 83.18–23*, 94.60, 94.61–63*, 94.64–66, 71, 113.29*, 113.30, 119.3, 119.7*, 119.10 Lucius Seneca minor, De ira 1.1.1, 1.9.2, 2.33.3–6, 2.23.3*, 2.34.1, 3.16.1–2, 3.17.1–4*, 3.18.3–19, 3.23.1–2*, 3.3 Lucius Seneca minor, Quaestiones naturales 2.pref.5*, 5.18.10*, 6.23.2–4* Sidonius Apollinaris, Carmina 2.121*, 5.202* Sidonius Apollinaris, Epistulae 3.12.6* Silius Italicus, Punica 13.762–776* Simplicius, Commentarius in Epicteti enchiridion 15*, 88.19* Sozomen, Historia ecclesiastica pref.1.12–15* Strabo, Geografia 13.1.27*, 14.1.23*, 14.3.9*, 15.1.68*, 17.43* Suetonius, Divus Augustus 18.1*, 89.3 Suetonius, Caligula 51.3, 52*, 52.1 Suetonius, Divus Iulius 7.1* Symmachus, Epistulae 1.20* Symmachus, Orationes 3.6, 7, 10*
236 Appendix 1 Tac. Ag. Tac. Ann. Tatianus, Ad Gr. Tert. Apol. Tert. Adv. Iud. Tert. Adv. Marci Tert. De pall. Them. Or.
Thuc. Val. Max.
Vel. Pat. Vitr. De arch.
Tacitus, Agricola 1 Tacitus, Annales 2.73*, 3.65.1, 4.33.2 Tatianus, Oratio ad Graecos 2.1* Tertullian, Apologeticus 46.15* Tertullian, Adversum Iudaeos 8 Tertullian, Adversus Marcionem 1.7.2* Tertullian, De pallio 4.6.3* Themistius, Orationes 8.106d – 107*, 8.120a*, 9.124a*, 11.152d – 153c*, 11.229c – d*, 15.190c – d*, 16.204c*, 19.233b*, 19.6 Thucydides, Historiae 1.1.4–5 Valerius Maximus, Factorum ac dictorum memorabilium pref. 1.1, 2.6.8, 3.8.ext.6*, 4.3.ext.3–4*, 4.7.ext.2*, 8.11.ext.2*, 8.14.ext.2*, 9.3.ext.1*, 9.5.ext.1* Velleius Paterculus, Historia Romana 2.41.1–2*, 2.126 Vitruvius, De architectura 1.pref.2, 2.pref.1–4*
Vetus Testamentum Gen. Exod. Deut. Rth. 1. Kings 2. Kings 2. Chron.
Genesis 2:10–14 Exodus 4:13–14, 21–25, 19:6 Deuteronomy 5:26, 7:3–4, 6 Ruth 1:16–17 1. Kings 8:51, 11:2, 12:26–33 2. Kings 19:1, 32–35, 23:15 2. Chronicles 11:13–17, 13:9, 20:1, 3, 15–20
Appendix 1 237 Ezr. Neh. Esth. Psa. Isa. Jer. Dan. Hagg.
Ezra 4:4, 4:10–21, 9:2 Nehemiah 10:30 Esther 3:5–15, 4:3, 16, 8:5–6, 10–11, 9:23–25 Psalm 115:4–8 Isaiah 46:6–7 Jeremiah 10:10 Daniel 2:39*, 2:47, 6:20, 26, 7:6*, 7:13–14, 24–27, 8:3–8, 20–22*, 9:24–27, 11:3–4* Haggai 2:7, 2:9
Novum Testamentum Matt. Mr. Luk. Rom. 1. Pet. Gal. 1.Thessa.
Matthew 5:28, 21:42–43, 23:12, 24:15 Mark 13:14 Luke 14:11, 16:22–26 Romans 11:25–26 1. Peter 2:9–10 Galatians 3:27–29 Thessalonians 1:6–7
Appendix 2 Chronological distribution of the data
APPENDIX 2. CHRONOLOGICAL DISTRIBUTION OF THE DATA The authors referred to here (in all about 70) are used as sources for this study. These authors (some of them anonymous) either mention Alexander by name or else are most likely to be referring to him. 18
17
16 14
14 12
11 10
10 8
8 6
6
4
4 2 0 150 BC-AD
0-100 AD 100-200 AD 200-300 AD
300-400
400-500
500-600
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Index
Aelian 112, 114, 174 Aelius Aristides 55–56 Alaric 200 Alexander the Great: advocate of Homer 94–96, 150–151; anger of 35, 61–62, 107–112, 114, 117; attitude to sex 83n156, 169–170; crossing miraculously the Pamphylian coast 63, 227n17; death of 78n48, 196–197, 200, 202; deification 172–174; drinking habits 107, 112–115, 121, 196; education of 93–99, 103; encounters philosophers (Diogenes, Calanus, Indian Brahmans etc.) 99–107, 168–169, 176–181; epithets of 22–23; factors of his success 18–19; generosity of 146; letter to Olympias 170–172, 174–175; martial virtues of 52, 55, 76; modern controversies between Greek and Macedonian nationalists 2, 225; murders his friends 108–114, 121, 167, 200, 219; orientalism 38–46, 52–53; as patron of the arts 134–135; reckless courage of 37, 78n52; relationship with his father Philip II 40, 94–95, 97, 110, 116, 121, 145–146; role in the Book of Daniel; 85n190, 189–195; scholarship dealing with 11–15, 215–216; tomb in Alexandria 22, 119, 197; Tykhe/Fortuna of Alexander 42, 50–52, 82n137; visits Ilium/Troy 20, 151–152; visits Jerusalem 60–62, 182–188; visits oracle of Zeus Amon in Siwah 42, 174–175, 219 Alexander Molossus/Molossian 19–20, 32 Alexander Romance 6–7, 14, 24n19, 74, 91n301, 98, 130n164, 184, 188, 201, 219–220 Alexandria 20–22, 47, 56, 62–63, 175, 197 anger (views of ) 108–109 Antiochus IV 58–59 Apelles 134–136, 157n19
Aphrahat 193 Appian 48–49 Aristobulus 11, 152, 162n128, 219 Aristotle 13, 19, 53, 95, 97–98, 108–110 (Aristotle’s views of anger), 147–150, 161n113, 166–167, 175 Arnobius 198 Arrian 6–7, 11–12, 47–48, 52, 55, 103–104, 107, 121, 141–142, 152–153, 155, 167, 183, 195, 219–220 Athenagoras the Athenian 171 Augustine 164, 174, 176, 186–188, 198–199, 202 Augustus (Octavian) 21–22, 34–35, 39, 45, 47, 136–138, 226 Ausonius 140–141, 161n113 Basil of Caesarea 144–145, 168–170 Bosworth, A.B 11–12, 224 Calanus 103–104, 106, 180 Caligula 21, 41, 44–45 Callisthenes 13, 19, 108, 111, 150, 200, 219 Caracalla 21–22 Celsus 166, 185 Choerilus (a poet) 135–136, 140–141 Cicero 22, 34, 101, 109, 115–117, 135, 151–152, 199 Claudian 71–72 Claudius 45 Cleitus (murder of ) 108–114, 121, 167, 200, 219 Clement of Alexandria 167–168, 172–173 Comparatio Alexandri 30–38, 48–50, 56 63–74, 90n281, 105, 116, 122, 135–141, 144–150, 154, 196–197, 200, 206n63, 218, 225 Constantine 67–70, 145, 196–197, 142–143, 152
Index Constantius II 68–70, 73, 145–147, 154, 196 Curtius 6, 11, 37, 41–46, 108, 112, 114, 121, 142, 183, 217, 219–221; dating of his work 79n68 Cyprian of Carthage 171 Dandamis 178–181 Daniel (Book of Daniel) 58, 189–195, 219 Darius III (king of Persia) 19, 22, 31–32, 39, 44, 56, 148, 191 Deinocrates 137–138 Dio Chrysostom 94–96, 104–106 Diodorus 6, 11–12, 47, 51–52, 142, 191, 219 Diogenes of Babylon 96 Diogenes of Sinope 100–107, 166, 168–169, 177, 203, 220 Ennodius 140–141 Ermanaric (king of the Goths) 73 euhemeristic literature 170–172 Eusebius of Caesarea 191, 196–197 Fulgentius 201–202, 220 Germanicus 36–38, 196 Gregory of Nyssa 144–145 Hannibal 17, 120 Hephaestion 142–143, 152 Himerius 98–99, 139, 219 History: exemplarity of past 2–5, 221–225; exemplum 17; Use and abuse of history 9–10, 15–16, 24n14, 224–225 Homer 19, 94–96, 98–99, 124, 150–155 Horace 7, 136–138 Imitatio Alexandri 21, 38, 115, 145, 155, 220–221 Imitatio Christi 21 Itinerarium Alexandri (Alexander’s Itinerary) 68–71 Jerome 97, 99, 153–154, 186, 190–193, 211n178 Jesus 4, 170, 186, 212n209 John Chrysostom 168–169, 173–174, 176–178, 193–194, 197–198 Jordanes 73 Josephus 59–64, 75, 182–184, 186–188, 190, 203 Julian 21–22, 70–71, 105–106, 145–147, 154, 168–169, 175
259
Julius Caesar 21–22, 35, 38, 110, 118–119, 137, 221 Justinian 72 Justin/Trogus 11, 213n221 Juvenal 101–102, 119–121 Libanius 70–71, 73, 154 Livy 31–36, 38–40, 68, 71, 107, 112, 222 Lucan 119–121, 195, 198 Lucian 82n133, 103, 119–121, 157n29 Maccabees (Book of ) 58–59, 64, 189, 217 Maximus of Tyre 103 Marcus Aurelius 105 Mark Antony 40, 113–114 Maximian 65–67 Minucius Felix 171 mos maiorum 36, 39–40, 42, 45–46 Nero 110–111 Origen 185–188, 192 Orosius 174–175, 187, 198–202 Paideia 93–96, 98, 111, 139, 167–168 Palladius 178 Panegyrics 65, 72–73 Parthian Empire 33, 54 Perseus (King of Macedonia) 5 Philip II (King of Macedonia) 12, 18, 40, 49–50, 58–59, 66, 94–95, 97, 110–111, 116, 118–119, 121, 136, 139, 146, 148–148, 225 Philip (doctor, physician) 142, 144, 147, 150, 201, 219–220 Philo of Alexandria 104, 116–117, 122, 132n221 Plautus 22 Pliny the Elder 48, 113 Plutarch 6, 47–50, 52–57, 72, 93–96, 102–104, 111–113, 139, 170, 183, 195, 218–219 Polyaenus 54–57 Polybius 51 Pompey 21, 48, 105, 118–119, 151 Porphyry 189, 191 Porus 66–67, 72–74, 111, 220 Procopius 72–73 Pyrrhus of Epirus 20 Quintilian 96–99, 115 rabbinic literature 208n114, 209n127 Ranke L. Von. 3
260
Index
reception studies 9 rhetoric (studies of ) 8, 16–17 Saint Hilarion 153–154 Saint Paul 165 Samaritans 61–62 Sassanid Empire 68–71, 75, 193 Second Sophistic movement 14, 47, 218 Seneca (Elder) 121, 172 Seneca (Younger) 83n142, 102, 104, 109–111, 113, 115, 117–119, 122, 167, 198, 202 Silius Italicus 119–120 Sozomen 138–139 Stoic philosophy 117 Strabo 219 superbia/ὕβρις 122
Tacitus 36–38, 107, 112, 196, 222 Tatian 166–167 Tertullian 166–168, 212n208 Themistius 66–67, 147–149 Theoderic 140–141 Theodosius I 66–67, 71 Theodosius II 138–139 Trajan 49, 54, 57, 68–69, 95, 104–105 Valentinian Galates 148 Valerius Maximus 40–41, 101–102, 108, 142–144 Velleius Paterculus 34–36 Vitruvius 136–138 wine (views of ) 111–115 Xenocrates 95, 101