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7.1 THE EASTERN BORDERS OF ĒRĀNŠAHR. GENERAL INTRODUCTION AND DESCRIPTION OF MERV.
  • 7.1 THE EASTERN BORDERS OF ĒRĀNŠAHR. GENERAL INTRODUCTION AND DESCRIPTION OF MERV.

    The lands, peoples and geographic features of the Middle East are quite well known to western readers, and the events of Late Antiquity that happened there are relatively well documented due to the large number of ancient sources that have arrived to us, and the (again relatively) large amount of archeological work that has been done in these areas.

    But the same can’t be said about the lands that were included within the eastern limits of the sprawling Sasanian empire, or those which lay immediately across it. The lack of written sources for these very extensive territories dated to the IV century CE is almost absolute, and the void can only be filled with archaeology, numismatics (which have played a capital role during the last eighty years in the efforts by scholars to reconstitute the political history of Central and South-Central Asia before the start of the Islamic era. Due to this, I’ve thought that it would be advisable to write a geographical-historical introduction aimed towards a very rough general introduction to these lands, which were much larger in area than the relatively small war theater of the Middle East and which were inhabited by much larger populations, which were also very varied in the ethnical, cultural, religious and economic sense.

    For a start, let’s quote again Ammianus Marcellinus’ work (Res Gestae, Book XXIII, 14):

    Now there are in all Persia these greater provinces, ruled by vitaxae, or commanders of cavalry, by kings, and by satraps (for to enumerate the great number of smaller districts would be difficult and superfluous) namely, Assyria, Susiana, Media, Persis, Parthia, Greater Carmania, Hyrcania, Margiana, the Bactriani, the Sogdiani, the Sacae, Scythia at the foot of Imaus, and beyond the same mountain, Serica, Aria, the Paropamisadae, Drangiana, Arachosia, and Gedrosia.

    This passage by Ammianus is the beginning of a long excursus in which the Roman author described the Sasanian empire and its regions (a lengthy and detailed description of the Sasanian empire which I have not quoted here). The list is also valuable because it can give us some sort of idea about the eastern territories included within the Sasanian empire in the 350s CE (which is always a very difficult task due to the lack of sources), or more accurately what contemporary Romans knew about the eastern regions of Ērānšahr, which does not necessarily coincide with historical reality. This must be obviously compared with eastern sources, archaeology and numismatics.

    1200px-Imperio-Aquem-nida500-AC-svg.png

    Map of the main satrapies of the Achaemenid empire; Classical authors kept using these to name the eastern territories until the end of Antiquity.

    Margiana was to Greek and Roman geographers one of the satrapies of the Achaemenid empire which was centered around the large oasis of Merv.

    With the Bactriani, Ammianus referred to the inhabitants of Bactria (or Bactriana) which was a region located north of the Hindu Kush mountain range and south of the Amu Darya river (ancient Oxus) covering the flat region that straddles modern-day Afghanistan, Tajikistan, and Uzbekistan.

    The Sogdiani refers to the inhabitants of Sogdia (or Sogdiana) was an ancient region centered on the main city of Samarkand. Sogdiana lay north of Bactria and east of Khwarezm between the Oxus (Amu Darya) and the Jaxartes (Syr Darya) rivers, centered around the fertile valley of the Zeravshan River. The territory of ancient Sogdia corresponds to the modern provinces of Samarkand and Bokhara in modern Uzbekistan as well as the Sughd province in modern Tajikistan.

    With the Sacae, Ammianus might have meant the region of Sakastān (also spelled Sagestān in Middle Persian; modern Sīstān, today divided between Iran and Afghanistan). During the Achaemenid period it was known as Drangiana (Hellenized form of Old Western Iranian Zranka; the old name still survives in the name of the city of Zaranj in Afghanistan).

    Scythia at the foot of the Imaus: in classical geography the term Mons Imaus was used loosely to refer to the two great chains of mountains that separate the Indian subcontinent from the rest of Asia: the Himalayas and the Hindu Kush. The term also was used to refer to all the mountain ranges in Central Asia, including the Pamir Plateau that separate the Tarim Basin from the Kashmir Valley and Sogdia, the Kunlun mountains that separate the Tibetan Plateau from the Tarim Basin and the Tian Shan mountain range that separates the Tarim Basin from the Eurasian steppe and the Altai mountain range north of the Tian Shan mountains. As for what did he mean by “Scythia”, here Ammianus was probably making a mess of names and places; the Sakas (or Sacae in Latin) were indeed Scythians, and they had during Arsacid times founded an Indo-Scythian kingdom that stretched both sides of the Hindu Kush, but referring to “Scythia at the foot of the Imaus” in the IV century CE was a complete anachronism that Ammianus probably picked out from some Greek geographer from several centuries before his time. Either that, or he was listing Sakastān twice.

    Serica “beyond the Imaus”: this is a controversial point. Serica was the Roman name for China, and obviously the Sasanian empire never included any part of China. So, this could very well be yet another mistake by Ammianus. On the other side though, in the ŠKZ Šābuhr I claimed to have conquered Kashgar, an oasis in the easternmost extreme of the Tarim Basin, which was located east of the Pamir Plateau, and which had been under Chinese rule before the collapse of the Han empire. It seems highly improbable to me, but if Ammianus was not making another of his mistakes, this could mean that during the reign of Šābuhr II the Sasanians still were able to control somehow this easternmost point of the Tarim Basin.

    Aria “beyond the Imaus”: this is another archaic term; Aria was an Achaemenid satrapy, which enclosed mostly the valley of the Hari River (Hareios in Greek) and which in antiquity was considered as particularly fertile and, above all, rich in wine. According to ancient geographers and writers like Strabo and Ptolemy, the region of Aria was separated by mountain ranges from the Paropamisadae in the east, Parthia in the west and Margiana and Hyrcania in the north, while a desert separated it from Carmania and Drangiana in the south. It is described in a very detailed manner by Ptolemy and Strabo and corresponds, according to their descriptions, almost exactly to the province of Herat in western Afghanistan.

    The Paropanisadae “beyond the Imaus”. This is an interesting point; Paropamisadae is the Latinized form of the Greek name Paropamisádai which is in turn derived from Old Persian Parupraesanna; which means in turn "beyond the Hindu Kush". In Greek and Latin literary usage Paropamisus (Greek Paropamisós) came to mean eventually the Hindu Kush. And in Ptolemy’s Geography, the names of both the people and region are given as Paropanisadae and Paropanisus. According to the descriptions by Strabo and Ptolemy, the region was located north of Arachosia, stretching up to the Hindu Kush and Pamir mountains, and bordered the Indus River in the east. It included mainly the Kabul region, Gandhāra and the northern regions of the Swat and Chitral valleys, in modern northeastern Afghanistan and northern Pakistan.

    Drangiana “beyond the Imaus”: probably it’s yet another mistake by Ammianus. As I said before, Drangiana was just the archaic name of Sakastān/Sīstān.

    Arachosia “beyond the Imaus” is the Hellenized name of an ancient Achaemenid satrapy. Arachosia was centered around the Arghandab River valley in southern Afghanistan, although its borders extended east to as far as the Indus River. The Arghandab River was called Arachōtós (hence its Greek name Arachōsíā) in ancient Greek texts and is a tributary of the Helmand River. This region corresponds the “Aryan” land of Harauti as mentioned in Avestan texts. The main city of Arachosia was the city of Kandahār in modern Afghanistan. According to the ancient geographers, Arachosia bordered Drangiana to the west, the Paropamisadae to the north, and Gedrosia to the south.

    Gedrosia “beyond the Imaus”: Gedrosia (Γεδρωσία) is the Hellenized name of the part of coastal Baluchistan that roughly corresponds to the modern region of Makran, which is lays between Pakistan and Iran. Ancient Gedrosia ran from the Indus River to the southern edge of the Strait of Hormuz. It was located directly to the south of Bactria, Arachosia and Drangiana, limited with Carmania (Kermān in New Persian) in the east and the Indus River to the east.

    So, this is what, according to Ammianus Marcellinus, the Romans knew about the eastern confines of Ērānšahr in the mid-IV century CE (remember that in this passage he was describing the array of the Sasanian army that invaded Roman Mesopotamia in 359 CE). This does not mean necessarily that this knowledge was correct. The list of lands and countries given by Ammianus is remarkably similar to the one that appears in the inscription of Šābuhr I at Naqš-e Rostam in Pārs (in the inscription usually referred to as ŠKZ), and which scholars usually consider as having been the maximum eastern extent of the Sasanian empire ever (or at least before Xusrō I and the Turkish Khaganate destroyed the Hephtalite empire during the first half of the VI century CE). The only difference between Ammianus’ list and the one that appears in the ŠKZ is that Šābuhr I claimed to rule also over Xwārazm (ancient Chorasmia, where the Syr Darya and Amu Darya rivers end at the Sea of Aral), but Chorasmia does not appear in Ammianus’ lists.

    The problem is that scholars are already suspicious about the claims made by Šābuhr I, and they usually consider that Sasanian influence over the vast spaces of Central and Southern Asia (or over the area that the historian Khodadad Rezakhani calls “Eastern Iran”, referring to the land that in Antiquity and Early Middle Ages belonged to the wider “Persianate” cultural world and which were mostly -but not always- inhabited by Iranian-speaking populations) must have declined under Šābuhr I’s successors, given the troubles that they encountered even in their core territories in the Iranian plateau.

    If we take Ammianus Marcellinus’ account as accurate (of which I’m far from convinced), that would mean that under Šābuhr II the Sasanians still controlled most of the territories acquired by Šābuhr I. But even if that were the case, it would be still open to discussion what sort of authority the Sasanian kings exerted over these territories.

    In order to ascertain this, historians need to look for clues in archaeology, numismatics and explore eastern accounts that have been usually sidelined by western scholars. For now, the best clues are those offered by numismatics. The only eastern mint in which all the Sasanian kings between Ardaxšir I and Šābuhr II minted coins without interruptions was Marv. During Šābuhr II’s reign, coins bearing the effigy and name of this Šāhān Šāh also began to be minted at Herat, Balkh or Kabul. In fact, according to Touraj Daryaee, most gold dinars issued by Šābuhr II seem to have come from eastern mints (although this is tricky to determine, because Sasanian coins only began to show the mint where they were issued in a systematic way under Šābuhr II’s successor Ardaxšir II). What’s more telling though is that Balkh had been the capital of the Kušān Šāhs, and Herat and Kabul (as well as other mints in Bactria and Gandhāra) had belonged to their kingdom as well, and before the mid-IV century CE, only coins bearing the figure and the name of the ruling Kušān Šāh were issued by these mints; what seems to have happened is that they were replaced by “imperial” Sasanian issues bearing the name of the Šāhān Šāh Šābuhr II. According to Rezakhani, the last Kušān Šāh attested is Bahrām, who must’ve ruled (according to this scholar) between 330 and 365 CE.

    Let’s take now a look at all these vast territories to see what they were like and what call archaeology, numismatics and ancient sources tell us about them. What appears immediately clear after a cursory look at a map is that these territories were vast, much larger than the areas disputed between the Sasanians and Romans in the Near East, and even larger than the Iranian heartland in the Iranian plateau itself. And they were not poor or deserted territories; some of these lands were densely populated and were agriculturally rich (and had also vital mining resources), but above everything else they sat across the most important land routes of transcontinental Eurasian trade. This will be a long task, and I will divide it into three main areas: Bactria, central Afghanistan and Gandhara, which since Kushan times were most of the time included in a single political entity and which shared many cultural traits. The, Sogdia, Khwarazm and the territories to the north of the Syr Darya (ancient Jaxartes) and across the Pamir that were closely linked to the trading cities of Sogdia, and finally the peripheral and rather poorly attested territories of southern Afghanistan and Pakistan (Arachosia, Gedrosia and Sindh). As a preface, I will start this general survey with a description of the land that was known to the classical geographers as Margiana, after the name of its main oasis, that of Merv (Marv in Middle Persian).

    central-asia-physical-map-01.jpg

    Physical map of Central Asia.

    Central-Asia-borders4.png

    There are three possible ways to define "Central Asia". in this post, I will be using the UNESCO definition, as it covers an area that shared many cultural, political and economic common features during Late Antiquity.

    After the end of the last glacial period, Central Asia was spotted with lakes (mostly saltwater lakes) as a residual remain of the melted glaciers. Due to the rather low rain regime, most of Central Asia has underwent since then a gradual process of desiccation, with the lakes slowly drying up, as the water influx from the main mountain ranges that are distributed across the region has been usually insufficient to compensate the effects of evaporation. Central Asia is situated at the center of the largest landmass of the planet and is surrounded to the south and east by high-altitude mountain ranges that cast a large rain shadow across the area and keep most of the moisture from the Indian Ocean monsoons from reaching it. For clarity’s sake, I will divide the Central Asian territories involved in the events narrated in this thread into five main areas:
    • West Turkestan: a territory bordered to the south by the Iranian Plateau and the Hindu Kush mountain range, and to the east by the Pamir and Altai mountains, and by the Caspian Sea to the west. Its northern limits are less clear, it ends north of the Syr Darya, transforming into the central tract of the Eurasian steppe. Western Turkestan is crossed by two major rivers (Amu Darya and Syr Darya) which spring respectively from the Hindu Kush and Pamir mountains and meet (or rather used to meet) their end at the inland Aral Sea. In ancient times, the Amu Darya did not drain all of its waters into the Aral Sea; part of its current bypassed the Aral Sea to the south and reached the Sarykamysh Lake. From here, these water course (known as the Uzboy river) crossed the Karakum Desert and emptied into the Caspian Sea; the Uzboy dried up in the XVII century. Apart from these two major rivers, there’s also a number of smaller rivers which are either tributaries of the two larger rivers (like for example the Zerafshan river) or which simply meet their end in the sand of some of the deserts that cover most of this territory (like the Murghab river). Modern irrigation works have carried out by Soviet engineers during the XX century have altered considerably the hydrology of the region; other than the rather famous case of the Aral Sea, the Balkhab river also used to reach the Amu Darya, while today it dries up before reaching it. Western Turkestan is dotted with oasis, some small and others really large, situated in strategic places where the rivers fan out into deltas (like Balkh, or Khwarazm) or due to the topography of the land they allow the irrigation of large tracts of land (like at Bukhara and Samarkand). North of the Syr Darya there are also some settled areas that have during this time period were very influenced by Sogdia (and partly settled by Sogdians) but which were not part of Sogdia proper. One of these areas was the large oasis of Chach (modern Tashkent), on the banks of the Chirchik river (a tributary of the Syr Darya) and the valley of Ferghana, one of the most fertile and well-watered areas of Central Asia, which was a vital node of the Silk Road, as it was crossed by the main road that crossed the Pamir into the Tarim Basin and from there followed all the way to China.
    • East Turkestan: much smaller than its western counterpart, it’s much more strictly delimited too. It’s formed basically by the Tarim Basin, which is surrounded by the Pamirs to the west, the Tian Shan range to the north (which separates it from the Dzungarian steppe) and the Kunlun mountains to the south, which form the northern buttress of the Tibetan Plateau. It lays open the East to the Gansu corridor that leads directly to central China and to the Northeast to the Gobi Desert and Mongolia through Turpan and Hami. Eastern Turkestan is much drier than Western Turkestan; when the glaciers of the last glacial period melted, the basin was occupied by an inner lake that underwent a progressive process of desiccation across the centuries. According to Chinese texts, by the time of the Han dynasty (II century BCE to III century CE) its eastern end was still covered by a large lake (the Lop Nur Lake) fed by the waters of the Tarim river which drained the melted snow from the Tian Shan and Kunlun ranges through several tributaries. Today, the Lop Nur lake is almost dried up and the Tarim river does not reach it. Most of the central part of the Tarim Basin if occupied by the Taklamakan Desert, and human population is concentrated along a series of irrigated oasis to its south and north, along the slopes of the Tian Shan and Kunlun mountains.
    Tarim-Basin.png

    The Tarim Basin.
    • The Eurasian Steppe occupies all the northern fringe of Central Asia, until it meets the Siberian Taiga. To the west lies the Central Steppe (or Kazakh Steppe), from the Urals to Dzungaria. It’s separated from the Eastern Steppe by the Dzungarian Narrowing, where the Altai and Tarbagatai Mountains which almost reach the northern forest leaving almost no grassland; to the east lie the Mongol Steppe and finally Manchuria. Although the steppe receives enough rainfall to allow grass to grow, water is too scarce and weather too unpredictable to allow the development of dry or irrigated farming before the XX century, so the human communities living there followed a nomadic lifestyle centered around herding and seasonal migration, although they also engaged occasionally in agriculture and built semi-permanent fortifications. Until the II century CE, the Kazakh Steppe had been dominated by Iranian-speaking peoples (speakers of eastern Iranian languages), but there was already a presence of confederations formed predominantly by non-Iranian speakers, like the Dingling and, according to contemporary scholars, the Huns who lived in the western approaches of the Altai Mountains after they were expelled from the Mongol Steppe by the rising Xianbei confederation during the mid-II century CE.
    • South of West Turkestan and east of the Iranian plateau lay the Afghan highlands, which mostly coincide with the modern country of Afghanistan. These highlands are formed by the great mountain range of the Hindu Kush to the north, which runs along a Northeast (where it joins the Karakorum range and the Pamir) to Southwest axis, where it gradually fans out into lower altitude mountain ranges, which cover the central part of modern Afghanistan which is essentially a highland country of fertile valleys isolated from each other. The Hindu Kush and the mountain ranges that fan out from it are the main hydrological nod of this part of Asia; all the major rivers spring in them and are part of either the Indus river basin (all the rivers flowing east, like the Kabul river) or of landlocked riverine systems; the ones that flow to the south and the east (like the Arghandab and Helmand rivers) meet their end at the lakes of the Sistan Basin, and the ones which flow north (like the Murghab and Balkhab rivers) either fan out into deltas and disappear into the sands of the Karakum desert (like the Murghab river) or (in the past) are tributaries of the Amu Darya (like the Balkhab river). To the south of the country, the mountains lose height even more and form the Arachosian Plateau, a semi-desertic highland plain crossed by the Arghandab river where the city of Kandahar lies. To the west, the terrain descends even more, and gradually melts into the Sistan basin; this area is crossed by the Helmand river and its tributaries and here lie some important cities like Herat and Zaranj. Finally, to the north of the country, on the northern ramparts of the highland mountains lies a flat stretch of land which forms part of the Amu Darya valley and which contains the most fertile lands of the area, although watering depends on the streams that flow from the mountains. Today, this plain is partitioned between Afghanistan and Tadjikistan (and partly by Turkmenistan) but anciently this was the land of Bactria, or Tokharistan as the Sasanians called it; originally Bactria covered also central Afghanistan all the way to the partition of waters with the Indus river basin, but from the IV century CE onwards the Afghan highlands were progressively considered as a separate entity, and by the VI century CE it was divided into two countries; Kabulistān to the northeast and Zābulistān to the southwest.
    • To the southwest of the Afghan highlands lies the Indus river valley, which was considered in Antiquity and the Middle Ages as an integral part of India (Hind in Middle Persian). According to modern scholars, the Sasanians could’ve controlled after the conquests of Šābuhr I perhaps all the right bank of the Indus; to the south lay the land known to Iranians as Sindh, with important sea ports (like the one excavated at Banbhore in Pakistan) and to the north lay the rich, populated and prestigious land of Gandhāra, which lay directly across the main land trade route between India and Central Asia, which from Puruṣapura (modern Peshawar) crossed the Khyber Pass following the valley of the Kabul river to the city of Kabul, and from Kabul crossed the Afghan highlands to Balkh, from where the route could lead to the west to Marv and the Iranian Plateau, or north to Sogdia and from there to the Ferghana valley and then eastwards to China (although there was a much more direct land route from India to China through Kashmir).
    After this attempt at a general description of the lands of Central Asia that will feature in the narrative of the events affecting the Sasanian empire from this moment to its end, I will try to offer a more detailed view of each territory, beginning with Margiana, which was the keystone of Sasanian military power projection in Central Asia.

    The land of Margiana (Marv in Middle Persian) was centered around the large oasis of Merv, which covers now (with modern irrigation) an area of 4,900 km2. It has been associated for a very long time with the successive Iranian empires and the Zoroastrian tradition; it’s quoted in the Avesta (Mehr Yašt, 10.14) as Môuru, and in Achaemenid inscriptions in Old Persian as Marguš (from where the Greek term Margianḗ was derived). Merv was known to the Romans, for it appears in the Tabula Peutingeriana, an ancient Roman road map (itinerarium) dated to the IV century CE. The reason for its long and distinguished history is its location in the middle of the Kara Kum desert (“black sand” in Turkic) in present-day Turkmenistan, midway between Balkh, the Oxus and Nēv-Šābuhr, which made it an almost compulsory stop in the trade routes between the Iranian Plateau and Sogdia to the north and Bactria to the East (and respectively, to China and India). It was the main entry into the Iranian plateau for the great trans-Eurasian caravan route known as the Silk Road, and so probably it fulfilled a very important role also as a customs post. It also possibly marked the limit of direct “central” control by the Šāhān Šāh over the land; to the north lay Sogdia ruled by local princes, and to the east Bactria, which was until 365 CE (at least nominally) under the rule of the Kušān Šāh as a Sasanian “sub-king” ruling over a satellite state. The real golden era of Marv though would come during the Islamic era, when it skyrocketed to become one of the largest cities in the whole world until its destruction by the Mongols in 1221 CE.

    Merv-Google-Maps.png

    Satellite picture of the Merv oasis, with the archaeological sites dated to the Sasanian era marked with red dots (according to the British archaeologist St. John Simpson).

    Nowadays the oasis supports a population in excess of one million people. Before the advent of modern transport, it was the last major center before caravans embarked on the long 180 km trip across the barren expanses of the Kara Kum desert to Amul (modern Chardzjou or “Four Canals”). Amul was a crossing point over the Oxus; from Amul it’s easy to reach Bukhara in Sogdia (and then continue to China) or continue upstream towards Termez and Bactria (and from there to India).

    The Merv oasis is formed by alluvial silts deposited by the Murghab river. The Murghab rises in the Afghan mountains, crosses the desert and enters the oasis at its southern tip, where it is dammed (nowadays by no less than six dams, but anciently there was only one dam) before it fans out into a vast delta that then dries out into the sands of the Kara Kum desert. There is a Chinese report by Du Huan, written in 765 CE after his return from ten years spent as a captive in Merv, where he described:

    (…) a big river which flows into its territory, where it divides into several hundred canals irrigating the whole area (…)

    Agriculture in the Merv oasis has always been dependent on artificial irrigation, nowadays as it was in ancient times, although the modern landscape has been radically altered by the arrival of the Kara Kum canal in 1954, which crosses the oasis from east to west, and has increased considerably the potential for irrigation at the Merv oasis and at the smaller Tedzhen oasis further to the west. As a result, the Merv oasis is probably at its maximum extent; in a 1991 map it measured 85x74 km. And this area has since been enlarged, because areas in the north, unused since the Bronze age, are now irrigated. Interestingly though, the 1991 area is similar to the one recorded by Du Huan:

    (…) the area of this kingdom from east to west is 140 li (70 km) and from north to south 180 li (90 km) (…)

    The Merv oasis is one of the archaeological areas most intensively studied in Central Asia. In the 1950s, E.M. Masson of Tashkent University set up the YuTAKE, the South Turkmenistan Multi-Disciplinary Archaeological Expedition of the Academy of Sciences of Turkmenistan, which subjected the oasis of Merv to several prolonged archaeological studies. After the fall of the Soviet Union, the International Merv Project (IMO) was set up as a collaboration between University College London, YuTAKE, the Academy of Sciences of Turkmenistan and the Institute for the History of Material Culture, St. Petersburg.

    The oasis of Merv has been inhabited at least since Neolithic times, and the oldest urban settlement that can be found within it is the site of Erk Kala, which has been dated to the VI century BCE, coinciding with the annexation of the area into the Achaemenid empire, or perhaps its predecessor the Median empire. Merv, or Margiana, is quoted in the great inscription of Darius I at Bīsotūn near Kermanshah in Iran as part of his empire, included in the great satrapy of Bactria. The next step in the urban development of Merv was the foundation by the Seleucid king Antiochus I Soter (281-261 BCE) or the Greek metropolis of Antiochia in Margiana; of which the ancient city at Erk Kala became its citadel. The site occupied by the new Seleucid city at the foot of the Erk Kala citadel is known nowadays as Gyaur Kala.

    Merv-01.png

    Satellite view of the ancient city of Marv. The poligonal structure in the upper part of the picture is the Erk Kala citadel; and the part surrounded by a roughly square ruined wall is the lower city (Gyaur Kala). The main gates and the main roads that quartered the city can still be seen in this image (according to the British archaeologist St. John Simpson).

    Gyaur-Kala-reconst-01.png

    Artist's reconstruction of the ancient city of Marv from the southeastern corner of the city, with the Buddhist stupa in first term.

    gyaur-Kala1.jpg

    Aerial view of the Erk Kala citadel, seen from the northwest.


    This was to become later the Arsacid and Sasanian city of Marv. It was located in the east central part of the oasis and lies next to the Razik canal; the main channel of the river Murghab flows much further to the west. At first sight, he site is dominated by the massive remains of the polygonal citadel at Erk-Kala which towers over a roughly square lower city (Gyaur Kala) which measures 2 km across; together they cover an area of some 374 ha. Each was encased within massive fortifications consisting of hollow curtains with external plastered glacises, which were constructed during the Sasanian period above the solid in-filled remains of earlier fortifications (Seleucid and Arsacid). The bulk of the built environment within the city connected the main east and west gates in a rectangle covering an approximate area of 125 ha. Additional residential quarters sprawled towards the south and north gates and added an additional 28 ha. or so to the built-up area. Each of these gates was situated midway along the curtain except on the north side where the central position of the citadel meant that the gate on this side was off-center, positioned directly to the east and commanded by a bastion of the citadel. It can be deduced from their morphology that all of the gates possessed a projecting outer wall and were approached by a ramp running parallel to the curtain. The curtain walls had towers at regular intervals, and excavations next to the southwest corner bastion revealed a sequence of redesign, constant use and strengthening of the fortifications during the four centuries of Sasanian rule. A fifth gate was situated on the western wall but bypassed the residential quarters and led into an open area on the western side of the citadel. Archaeologists believe that this area within the walls was substantially unoccupied in antiquity for a reason. Given the existence of the separate gate, it seems most likely that this area was limited to official and military activity, used for drilling and providing space for the horses which made up an essential part of the Sasanian army. In any case, its location suggests it was limited to military and official activity.

    Merv-Walls-03-jpg.png

    Evolution of the walls that surrounded Gyaur Kala across the centuries.
    1. Seleucid wall, built around 280 BCE.
    2. Arsacid wall, around II century CE.
    3. Late Arsacid wall, around I century CE.
    4. All phases put together.

    A. Filled-on access gallery.
    B. Arrow slit.
    C. Outher defenses.
    D. Erosion debris.

    Sasanian-Merv.jpg

    Hypothetic reconstruction of the walls around the Sasanian city of Marv.


    Apart from the main city of Marv, other smaller forts dotted the oasis; the whole complex, would become the main eastern stronghold of the Arsacid and Sasanian empires against their eastern enemies (Kushans, Huns and Turks). One of the most important mints of the empire was located here, in order to pay its large garrison and the large armies that the Sasanian kings assembled there for their eastern campaigns. At this time, it was almost assuredly under the direct rule of the Šāhān Šāh, and due to its strategic situation and its imposing fortifications, it was the main military base for the Sasanian spāh during any campaign in Central Asia. In short, the oasis of Merv had a key strategic importance both for defending the exposed north-eastern border of the empire against Central Asian invaders and to block them entry into the Iranian Plateau and the heart of Ērānšahr, but also for projecting Sasanian military power into Bactria, Sogdia and beyond.

    Archaeologists have identified up to 162 settlements dated to the Sasanian period within the oasis; as well as a complex irrigation network that was mostly built in Arsacid times. Of these settlements, a total of 133 sites covered an area of less than 4 ha., therefore falling within the category of village or hamlets according to Sasanian standards; an additional 17 sites covered areas of up to 30 ha. and thus, may be regarded as equivalent in size to a town, but only three exceeded that. To archaeologists, this must imply a high level of rural development in the hinterland of the city of Marv, with a cluster of settlements along the course of the Murghab, as well as along canals flowing due north. Many of these Sasanian settlements appear to have been built on artificial platforms (dakhma) raised above the alluvial plain and surrounded by ditches and moats. Archaeological digs at two of these raised mounds (called kalas and tepes in the local Turkic language) at Göbekli-tepe and Chilburj have revealed that they were substantially fortified, with walls and towers that were rebuilt and reinforced during Sasanian rule.

    Gobekli-Tepe.png

    Plan of the remains of the settlement at Göbekli-tepe (according to the British archaeologist St. John Simpson).

    The case of Chilburj is particularly interesting. Soviet excavations in 1980 dated the present remains to the V century CE, although it seems to have an Arsacid origin. The main portion of the settlement consists of an almost square site covering some 2.7 ha. and surrounded by a hollow curtain wall with square projecting interval towers. It had a heavily defended gatehouse on the southern side, a similar construction on the north side which was presumably blocked at a later date (perhaps in a moment of siege or military crisis), and elongated corner towers which were probably designed to enable torsion artillery to block access to the gates in case of a siege. And the case of the fort at Chilburj is not the only one in the oasis of Merv.

    Chilburj-01.png

    Chilburj-02.png

    Archaeological drawing and aerial photograph of the remains of the Sasanian fort at Chilburj in the Merv oasis (according to the British archaeologist St. John Simpson).

    Another typology of fort is found at Durnali, rectangular in shape, with regularly placed square towers projecting from the wall, while the area within the walls was divided by rectilinear streets and alleys in an orderly fashion; immediately to the south of the fort, archaeologists have found an extramural settlement of some 7 ha. which has been dated to the late V to VII centuries CE. A third typology appears at the northern edge of the site of Köne Kishman; in here archaeologists were puzzled by the fact that apparently the enclosed space within the walls lacks any trace of occupation. One possible explanation for this is that it was a campaign fort which originally enclosed rows of tents rather than permanent barracks, in a similar way to the forts that have been excavated along the Gorgan Wall further to the west. This strongly suggests that the whole oasis was provided at some point in time with an array of fortified spaces designed to lodge a large campaign army with plenty of space within their walls, as would befit a cavalry-heavy army. Apart from its commercial and agricultural importance, the Merv oasis was a huge military basis for the Sasanian spāh and the main jumping post for its campaigns in Central Asia, both in Sogdia to the north and Bactria to the east.

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    Archaeological drawing and aerial photograph of the remains of the Sasanian fort at Durnali in the Merv oasis (according to the British archaeologist St. John Simpson).

    The archaeological evidence therefore suggests a militarized yet prosperous pattern of settlement in the oasis with a high density of settlements of different sizes, some walled and some apparently unwalled, with the largest center being the city of Marv itself. Literary sources consistently praise the rich agricultural resources of the Merv oasis during the Classical and Islamic periods. Although equivalent written sources are lacking for the Sasanian period, archaeologists think it’s reasonable to extrapolate a similar situation for Sasanian times, and there is evidence for major canal off-takes from the river Murghab at this period. An important find in the oasis of Merv was the discovery of large quantities of accidentally carbonized cotton seeds in contexts dating from the IV century CE onwards, which provides the earliest archaeobotanical evidence for cultivation of this fiber crop in the oasis and contradicts the hypothesis that cotton cultivation was introduced as late as the IX century CE.

    The population of the oasis before it became Turkicized during the late Middle Age was formed by Iranian speakers, who probably spoke originally a dialect of Parthian; the use of Parthian in written form is attested still in the IV century CE. When the city surrendered to the armies of the Rashidun Caliphate in 651 CE, the population of the city and the oasis was predominantly Zoroastrian, but the city also hosted large and vital Manichean, Jewish, Nestorian Christian and Buddhist communities, with a large Buddhist monastery and stupa occupying the southeast corner of the city. The oasis of Merv was controlled by the Sasanian dynasty since the times of Ardaxšir I until the Islamic conquest, being only lost for a short timespan to the Hephtalites during the late V and early VI centuries CE; scholars are quite sure of this because all the Sasanian kings minted coins here except for the aforementioned time period.
     
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    7.2 BACTRIA-ṬOḴĀRESTĀN.
  • 7.2 BACTRIA-ṬOḴĀRESTĀN.

    Bactria (or Bactriana) was a region located north of the Hindu Kush mountain range and south of the Ḥeṣār mountain range (a western spur of the Pamir mountains, which separates the upper Amu Darya valley from the Zerafšān valley); thus, covering the upper valley of the Oxus river (modern Amu Darya); a flat region that straddles modern-day Afghanistan, Tajikistan and Uzbekistan. Today, if watered properly (now as well as then the area has suffered from water scarcity and irrigation has been vital to the economy of the region) this is still one of the most fertile regions of Central Asia. To the south of Bactria lay the central highlands of Afghanistan, a maze of high-altitude valleys isolated amongst imposing mountain ranges that fan to the west and south from the main range of the Hindu Kush; these mountains were labeled vaguely by Classical authors as the Paropanisadae and separated Central Asia from India. To these same writers, Bactria was famous by its fertility and the number of its inhabitants and was nicknamed by Strabo as “the land of a thousand cities”.

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    Map of ancient Bactria; the large river in the center is the Amu Darya (ancient Oxus).

    The English name Bactria is derived from the Ancient Greek Bactriané (Βακτριανή), a Hellenized version of the Bactrian endonym Bakhlo (βαχλο). It was called Bakhdi in Avestan, Baktriš in Old Persian, Daxia in Chinese and Bāhlīka in Sanskrit. Today, the name Balḵ/Balx also designates a province in northern Afghanistan with its capital at Mazār-i Sharīf, less than 50 km from the historic city of Balḵ itself. B y the end of the Kushan period though, and during the following Sasanian period, the old name of Bactria had fallen out of use and had been replaced by the name Ṭoḵārestān. In Middle Persian and Armenian texts, the name Balḵ designated only the capital city itself.

    Geographically, ancient Bactria consisted on a string of agricultural oases dependent on water taken from the rivers at Balḵ, Taškurgan, Kondūz, Sar-ē Pol, and Šīrīn Tagāb, in a similar way as the oasis in neighboring Margiana. To the south, the terrain rises steadily on the northern slopes of the Afghan mountains, and this hilly country is better watered. To the east, the terrain rises to meet the mountains of Badaḵšān; in these highlands there was the only mine of lapis lazuli known in Antiquity (as well as mines of rubies and other valuable minerals); lapis lazuli from Badaḵšān has been found as far away as tombs in New Kingdom Egypt and was handed down as tribute by the Medes to the Assyrian kings.

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    Situation of Bactria with respect to modern political boundaries.

    Bactria was the center of one of the great satrapies of the Achaemenid empire (XII Satrapy, according to Herodotus). The incorporation of Bactria into the empire was probably achieved not through conquest but through a personal union; the satrap was always a close relative of the Achaemenid king and the standard Achaemenid administrative system was not introduced; local nobles were given an ample leeway to administer the province as they saw fit. Also, according to Herodotus, Bactria was one of the richest satrapies of the empire and it was able to pay a substantial tribute of 360 Attic talents of silver. After the Macedonian conquest, during the second half of the III century BCE the local satrap Diodotus seceded from the Seleucid empire and his successors extended Graeco-Bactrian rule to the north in Sogdia and across the south in northwestern India. Bactria lived a period of great prosperity under the Graeco-Bactrian kings; excavations begun in 1964 at Aï Khanum in northern Afghanistan at the confluence of the Amu Darya and its southern tributary the Kokča river discovered the remains of a great Hellenistic metropolis that was probably the capital of the Graeco-Bactrian kingdom (or at least the residence of the kings in the eastern part of Bactria). In 147 BCE, this great Greek city was destroyed by nomadic invaders from the north; historians believe that they could be the same Saka peoples that invaded the Arsacid empire at the same time further to the west, killing two Arsacid kings in succession and almost destroying it.

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    Hypothetical recontruction of the Graeco-Bactrian city of Aï Khanum.

    According to Sima Qian’s Shiji, which presumably used the official reports of the Chinese envoy Zhang Qian, who at the end of the II century BCE travelled across Central Asia sent by the Han emperor Wudi, at that time Daxia (the Chinese term for Bactria) was an important urban civilization boasting a population of about one million people, living in walled cities under small city kings or magistrates and lacking any sort of political cohesion. The Shiji also describes Daxia as an affluent country with rich markets, trading in a wide variety of objects, some of them coming from as far as southern China. Some time after that, Bactria came under control of the Da Yuezhi, a nomadic people that according to the Chinese sources (the Hanshu and the Hou Hanshu) came to the area from the area around the Ferghana valley. According to the Hou Hansshu, the Da Yuezhi who settled in Bactria were a confederation of five clans or tribes (xihou in Chinese), until the leader of one of the tribes managed to seize power:

    More than a hundred years later, the xihou of Guishuang, named Qiujiu Que (Kujula Kadphises) attacked and exterminated the four other xihou. He set himself up as king of a kingdom called Guishuang (Kushan). He invaded Anxi (Parthia) and took the Gaofu (Kabul) region. He also defeated the whole of the kingdoms of Puda and Jibin (Kapiśa-Gandhāra). Qiujiu Que (Kujula Kadphises) was more than eighty years old when he died. His son, Yan Gaozhen (Vima Takto), became king in his place. He returned and defeated Tianzhu (Northwestern India) and installed a General to supervise and lead it. The Yuezhi then became extremely rich. All the kingdoms call [their king] the Guishuang (Kushan) king, but the Han call them by their original name, Da Yuezhi.

    Modern historians have identified this Qiujiu Que of the Chinese sources as the Kujula Kadphises that founded the Kushan empire and who appeared in coins and inscriptions in Greek and Bactrian. The people of his clan/tribe/xihou called themselves Kushana (hence the Chinese Guishuang), and their king by extension took the name of “The Kushan” (Košano in Bactrian) or “The Great Kushan”. Historians are very cautious about the matter but given that originally the Da Yuezhi lived in western Mongolia near the Tarim Basin (from where the Xiongnu chased them away west of the Altai mountains all the way to the Ferghana and Illi valleys) it’s possible that their original language was a Tokharian language, like that of the inhabitants of the oasis of the Tarim Basin. On one side, Strabo (I century BCE) and Ptolemy (II century CE) names the Tókharoi (Τοχάριοι) as the inhabitants of Bactria during their lifetimes, and so do some Sanskrit texts (Tukhāra), and the very land of Bactria became known as Ṭoḵārestān under Kushan rule. But on the other side, scholars have been unable to find any trace of a Tokharian language in the texts and inscriptions found anywhere in the Kushan empire; all them were written in Greek, Bactrian, Sanskrit or other local languages (Indic or Iranian).

    The period of Kushan rule was a second golden era for Bactria, and the period when urbanization, and the extension of irrigation networks reached their historical high point before the advent of modern technology. First the Graeco-Bactrian kings and later the Kushans conquered large areas of northern India from their Bactrian heartlands, and this period saw and ever-increasing influence of Indian culture and religions in Bactria. The inhabitants of Bactria spoke an eastern Iranian language known as Bactrian, which enjoyed the status of a written language, and was used in official inscriptions and coinage by all the rulers of Bactria starting by the Kushans until the Muslim conquest. Bactrian was written using the Bactrian alphabet, which was a slightly modified version of the Greek alphabet brought here by Alexander the Great’s army.

    Along with Bactrian, as Buddhism spread across the land, inscriptions and texts in Sanskrit and Prakrit (much more abundant than the latter, especially Gandhāri) can also be found, written either in Kharoṣṭhī or Brāhmī scripts. The religion of Bactria under the Kushans and the Kušān Šāhs was a traditional Iranian religion, with its own interpretation of Zoroastrianism, mixed with strong Indian and even Greek influences; apart from Buddhism, Kushan coinage depicts also the god Oeso, the Bactrian version of the Hindu deity Shiva with the Nandi bull, while mural paintings of the III century CE show an amazing amount of syncretism, with Kushan donors bringing offerings to Ohrmazd, and also to Zeus-Serapis and the local god Pharro.

    The Kushans created an empire which stretched from the oasis of Tashkent and sometimes even into the Tarim Basin in the north to the middle valley of the Ganges in the south, with Bactria at its geographic center. The political unification of Central Asia, coupled with the rise of the Han empire and its conquest of the Tarim Basin led to the opening of a new set of trans-Eurasian trade routes between China, India and the Mediterranean which are referred to popularly as the Silk Road. Laying at the very core of this new network of exchange, the Kushan empire, with Bactria at its center, benefitted enormously from it. The trade with the Roman empire seems to have been particularly intense, as large numbers of Roman coins have been found in the area; some scholars even suggest that the crisis of the Roman empire in the III century CE (and especially the crisis of its silver coinage) which caused a drop in the Roman trade in the East could have weakened the fiscal foundations of the Kushan empire, thus paving the way for the success of the campaigns of Ardaxšir I and Šābuhr I against it.

    A substantial increase of the area under cultivation in Bactria took place in the Kushan period. New lands were irrigated, like for example at at Bīškent and along the lower course of the Vaḵš, while the valleys of the Balḵab, Kondūz, and Sorḵān Daryā rivers became important agricultural producers. Urbanization showed similar progress. Some forty urban sites, including fifteen of more than 15 ha, have now been located; all have dimensions fit for medium-sized or large towns. Besides the main cities of Balḵ, Kondūz, and Termez (Qara Tepe), there were other towns elsewhere: Delbarjīn (40 km northwest of Balḵ), and the sanctuary of Sorkh Kotal (with a great temple at the top of a flight of steps, dedicated to an apparently eclectic collection of gods headed by a deity personifying the victory of the temple’s founder Kanishka); and north of the Oxus, Delvarzīn, Aĭrtam, Zar Tepe, Qaḷʿa-ye Kāfernegān, and Ḵaḷčajān. All these sites are witnesses to the remarkable level of development of urban life which characterized Bactria under Kushan rule.

    The capital city of Bactria was Balḵ (Greek: Βάκτρα, Báktra; Bactrian: Βάχλο, Bakhlo), which owed its importance to its position at the crossing of several major trade routes: the west-east route along the foot of the Khorasan and Hindu Kush mountains from Iran to Central Asia and China, and the route that following the valleys of left-bank tributaries of the Oxus passes through the mountains of central Afghanistan to northwestern India. The Balḵāb river gives easy access by the valley of its tributary the Dara-ye Ṣūf and the Qarā Kotal pass to the Bāmīān basin and thence to Kabul. This route has the advantage of being the westernmost of the roads over the Hindu Kush and thus the shortest for travelers from the west, as well as one of the easiest. Its existence must have been the main reason why a great city arose in the area where the Balḵāb debouches into the Bactrian plain.

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    Map of the Balḵ oasis, by the French archaeologists Étienne de la Vaissière and Philippe Marquis.

    When the Balḵāb river leaves the piedmont of the Afghan mountains, it fans out into an alluvial delta very similar to the one formed further west by the Murghab river at Merv oasis, which allows the irrigation of a large surface of agricultural land. The total surface of the alluvial fan is 3,300 km2, of which only 1,900 km2 are currently under exploitation, are of these only 700 km2 are under intensive agriculture. The remaining land remains as uncultivated steppe among the water canals. Within this area and on the irrigated alluvial fan, at a distance of about 12 km from the mountains, the city of Balḵ was built on a site (the Bālā Ḥeṣār of today) where there was probably a slight rise in the plain and was perhaps adjacent to an old arm of the river. This is only a supposition, because adequate archeological exploration has not yet been carried out. In any case, the site subsequently grew higher through the gradual accumulation of the debris left by successive human occupants (a process well known in archaeology, which for example has originated the tells in the Middle East).

    In Antiquity, Balḵ was already considered an already ancient city, and it was nicknamed as the “Mother of Cities”. The city became the capital of the Greek kingdom of Bactriana, and in 208-206 BCE it was able to resist a three-year long siege by the army of the Seleucid king Antiochus III the Great. After the fall of the Graeco-Bactrian kingdom, the remained one of the most important cities in the Kushan empire, although the Kushan kings resided further south, at Kapiśa (modern Begrām, near Kabul) in summer and at Mathura (in Uttar Pradesh, India) during the winter.

    The oasis of Balḵ was surrounded by a wall (in a similar way as other Central Asian oasis) during the III century BCE, either under the Seleucids or the Graeco-Bactrian kings, in order to separate the agricultural (taxable) land from the surrounding steppe/desert. The city of Balḵ itself shows many similarities with Marv; the walls enclose a surface of irregular shape, longer along the east-west axis, with a massive round citadel in the middle of the north part of the wall. In a fascinating 2017 paper the French historian and archaeologist Étienne de la Vaissière made some educated guesses about the population of West and East Turkestan and the Central Asian steppe in the VIII century CE, using data from the Chinese censuses as well as historical data from oasis in Afghanistan and the Russian Empire before modern irrigation and agricultural techniques modified the landscape.

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    Satellite picture of the remains of the Bālā-Ḥeṣār citadel at Balḵ.

    The oasis of Balḵ was up to the 1970s extremely traditional. While some major irrigation improvements took place in other parts of Afghanistan like in the Helmand Basin for instance, very few steps had been taken to improve its agriculture before the start of the Soviet-Afghan war, and none up to its end. As the III century CE oasis wall can be detected without problems, it’s possible for archaeologists and historians to delimit accurately the useful agricultural area for Late Antiquity. There’s also a remarkably well-preserved archaeological landscape: the oasis is literally dotted with fortresses, castles or stupas, which gives also very good clues in order which parts of the oasis were inhabited in every time period. Since the Kushan times to modern times, there’s been only one major alteration in the hydrology of the oasis: the destruction of the irrigation network by the Mongols in the first half of the XIII century.

    With these considerations in mind, De la Vaissière estimated the area of the early medieval area of the Bactra oasis to ca. 3,000 km2, including ca. 300 km2 of desert and swamps (actually in quite precisely the same as the ancient ones, as demonstrated by the archaeological landscape), which leaves 2,700 km2 of agricultural land. Taking this into account, and comparing it with data from the 1897 Russian Empire census for its Central Asian oasis, comparisons with other Afghan oasis (especially the Taškurgan oasis, even more traditional than Balḵ) and data from the medieval Islamic author al-Ištakhrī, De la Vaissière reaches the following numbers (depending on the number of years the land was left fallow):
    • Fallow lands, within the limits of the irrigated zone in the Early Middle Ages, covered probably 1,800 km2.
    • Annually irrigated lands covered probably 900 km2.
    • Orchards covered probably only 20 km2, a very small area.
    • In case of quadrennial fallow: 300,000 inhabitants.
    • In case of triennial fallow: 325,000 inhabitants.
    • In case of biennial fallow: 400,000 inhabitants.
    Is this 300,000 to 400,000 range believable? According to De la Vaissière, in 1978, without any sizeable improvement to the irrigation network, (but a considerable one sanitary condition) including the nearby towns of Aqcha, and Mazar-e Sharif, which by then had a population of 100,000 inhabitants (VIII century CE Samarqand was of the same size), the oasis was inhabited by ca. 500,000 people.

    De la Vaissière thinks that we’re certainly the safe side in saying that the oasis of Bactra could feed in the Early Middle ages 300,000 to 400,000 inhabitants, and that actually it might have been quite more. For his analysis he chose criteria of minimums: for instance, he used a 1.2 liter of millet per day ratio, calculated for grown-up men serving in the Chinese army (taken from VIII-IX centuries CE Chinese censuses in East Turkestan). This means that more children and women could be fed on the same area than anticipated. The same 1.2 liter of millet measure would also mean that the whole calorific intake would come from cereals, while obviously part of it would have derive from dairy products, meat or fruits (agriculture in the West Turkestan oasis was much more varied than the one employed in the Chinese garrison cities in the Tarim Basin and the Gansu Corridor), so that more people could be fed on the same area. A third minimum would’ve been the amount of water available for irrigation: it seems clear from the ethnographic parallels in the Taškurgan oasis that only the amount of water available precludes the annual irrigation of many lands in the oasis. The fallow is linked not to the quality of the earth (there is no salinization in these oases) but exclusively to the amount of water available. According to De la Vaissière, it’s quite probable that the climate was slightly more wet in the Early Middle Ages, and the remnants of desiccated lands from before the Mongol invasion, seem to show that more water was available to the Baclkh alluvial fan before the shift of the river: it could irrigate the now desiccated parts and provide more water in the still irrigated ones, modifying the fallow regime.

    In short, De la Vaissière suggests that the oasis of Balḵ could very well have been populated by 500,000 people in its heydays. This does not mean that this was the necessarily the case, and actually it was certainly not so in the VII and VIII centuries CE: according to the Chinese pilgrim Xuanzang, in 630 CE the town of Balḵ was an empty shell of walls. It regained its status as a populous only one century later, already under Muslim rule. But a map of the fortresses doting the landscape, very equally distributed within the oasis wall, suggest to De la Vaissière that it might indeed have been the case during the prosperous periods, as the Kushan period certainly was.

    Much less archaeological work has been done at the Balḵ oasis than at Merv, and so as a result much less is known about the ancient city. The mud-brick ramparts of , which still survive, superimposed one upon the other, stand at an impressive length and height, reaching a height of more than 20 m at the citadel (Bālā-Ḥeṣār) and on the southern side, are the most substantial remains of the “Mother of Cities” dating to Antiquity. Archeological examination of these ramparts has provided the key to the successive stages of the topographical development of the town. As in Marv, the most ancient remains are to be found in the Bālā-Ḥeṣār citadel (“Balḵ I” to archaeologists); its circular plan is probably inherited from the Achaemenian period, while the present Timurid-era wall largely reuses the massive Hellenistic rampart which, in 208-206 BCE, withstood the attack of the Seleucid king Antiochus III. From the Hellenistic period also dates a gigantic wall built against the nomadic incursions along the northern edge of the oasis, where its remains have been traced for a length of 60 km by Soviet archaeologists in the 1970s; it was mentioned as being still in use by Yaʿqūbī around 889 CE, and it sheltered other important towns within the oasis, as Delbarjīn.

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    Remains of the ramparts of the citadel of Balḵ; their last reconstruction dates back to the Timurid era.

    The development of a southern suburb of Balḵ along the main trade road to India led to a first extension of the walled city (“Balḵ IA” to archaeologists), dated to late Hellenistic or Kushan period. At some time between the Kushan era and the Islamic conquest it was further enlarged to the east (Balḵ II). These walls, which were dotted with protruding square towers remained in use until Balḵ was thoroughly destroyed in 1220 by the Mongols.

    Apart from the ramparts, the only monuments which have survived from pre-Islamic Balḵ are Buddhist stūpas, which owed their preservation to the sheer mass of their mud-brick masonry. Four, all standing along the roads on the outskirts of the city, were identified by the French archaeological mission in Afghanistan (DAFA) in 1924-25; the one Top-e Rostām, in the south, was the only one he excavated. Although it was greatly ruined and stripped of all its decoration, it could be reconstructed as the most monumental Buddhist stūpa found till date north of the Hindu Kush (dimensions: square platform 54 x 54 m, cylindrical dome 47 m in diameter, total height probably ca. 60 m). Its location and size correspond closely to the “New Monastery” described in the VII century CE by the Chinese pilgrim Xuanzang. Known in New Persian as the Nowbahār (from Sanskrit Nava Vihāra, meaning “new monastery”), it was renowned in the Islamic sources because the Buddhist ancestors of the Barmakids (who became viziers of the first Abbasid caliphs of Baghdad during the late VIII century CE) had been its administrators.

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    Plan of the remains of Balḵ, by the French archaeologist Philippe Marquis. The octogonal area on the bottom is the location and original extension of the Nowbahār.

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    Hypothetical reconstruction of the stūpa at the Nowbahār.

    Balḵ was closely associated with Buddhism. According to Buddhist lore, the Buddha’s message was brought to Balḵ by two of his disciples, Trapusa and Bahalika. They would’ve been natives from Balḵ, and according to the legend before returning to their homeland they asked their master for some relics, and he gave them eight of his hairs, which they put into a golden casket and took back with them to Balḵ. There, they would’ve built the great stūpa of the Nowbahār over the plot of land where they buried the casket; and this was the sacred relic that was venerated in the monastery and which made Balḵ such an important Buddhist center. Balḵ was known as Balhika in Sanskrit. Xuanzang visited Balḵ in 630 CE, when the oasis was still an important center of Hinayana Buddhism. Although by then the city of Balḵ proper was almost completely abandoned, Xuanzang reported that there were around a hundred Buddhist convents in the oasis, with 3,000 monks and large numbers of stūpas, while according to him the Nowbahār also contained a huge statue of the Buddha. Historically, the first traces of Buddhism in Bactria appear under Kushan rule, after the Kushans conquered northwestern India from their Bactrian base; some historians have speculated that the Nava Vihāra at Balḵ could be dated to the reign of the Kushan emperor Kaniṣka I (r. 127 – 150 CE).

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    Maximum extension of the recinct of the Nowbahār in the VII century CE, according to the French archaeologists Étienne de la Vaissière and Philippe Marquis.

    Still within the Balḵ oasis, on its northwestern limit (40 km from the city of Balḵ) archaeologists have unearthed a second important urban center, Delbarjīn. It was probably founded in the V century BCE under Achaemenid rule and remained in existence until the V-VI centuries CE. The site was excavated by Soviet archaeologists in the 1970s and 1980s. The city took its final form during the last times of the Graeco-Bactrian kingdom (by which time it might have been known as Eucratideia) or during the first decades of Kushan rule: a city surrounded by a quadrangular rampart (383 x 393 m), with a circular citadel in the center. The northeast corner of the walled enclosure was occupied by a temple precinct, and suburbs of considerable size lay south and east of the city. The earliest city wall consisted of a rather thin curtain of paḵsa (tamped earth mixed with water) and mud brick, built on a glacis of paḵsa and pierced with arrow slits, with hollow quadrangular towers at intervals. At the beginning of the Kushan period a second wall, also with towers, was constructed outside the original rampart, forming an interior gallery typical of Central Asian fortifications. The main gate was originally located between two bastions several stories high in the middle of the southern wall in the direction of Balḵ; when later the entrance was shifted farther to the east these bastions were enlarged and joined in a single flanking tower. It was also during the Kushan period that the citadel was surrounded by a rampart, circular in plan and again with an internal gallery. This rampart was eventually destroyed and replaced by a solid wall, which was further strengthened with round towers during the last phase of the occupation of the city. The large temple on the northeast corner of the walled enclosure has been quite intensively excavated, and archaeologists have established that it was built during the Hellenistic era, and it was originally dedicated to the Dioscuroi (Castor and Pollux), and that later in the II century CE it was rededicated to Shiva/Oeso. Historically important wall paintings have been discovered in this sacred precinct that illustrate vividly the syncretism that was characteristic of the religious life of ancient Bactria.

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    Plan of the remains of the Bactrian city at Delbarjīn.

    Another important Bactrian city was Termeḏ, located on the north bank Amu Darya river (today in Uzbekistan), 62 km north-east of Balḵ; for many centuries it has been one of the main crossing points between Bactria and Sogdia. Old Termeḏ (situated several kilometers downstream from the modern Uzbek city of Termez) was perhaps the most important center of Buddhism in Bactria, if we have to judge by the amount of remains of Buddhist religious sites found there and its vicinity. In the northwestern part of Termeḏ proper, not far from the Amu Darya, there was a large Buddhist center with a cave monastery, at the site known as Kara Tepe, with an adjacent freestanding monastery at Fayaz Tepe. The Kara Tepe monastery covered about 7 ha and consisted of a series of adjacent complexes dating from different periods. Many of them had an above-ground section as well as an underground one. The underground part contained in the center a massive stone pillar (or two pillars), surrounded by a corridor and frequently with an inner chamber. In front of the platform at the entrance to the underground part, there was a surface construction in the form of a square court with colonnade, a stūpa, a water tank, and pedestals and niches for sculptures. There were also complexes with different plans, and some two-tiered constructions. Numerous artistic objects were found at Kara Tepe (stone and stucco sculptures, paintings), and stone architectural details. Over 150 Prakrit inscriptions in Ḵharoṣṭhī and Brāhmī scripts were recovered there by archaeologists. Construction started in the I-II centuries CE, and the complex reached its peak in the III-IV centuries CE before declining in the V-VI centuries CE.

    The Fayaz Tepe vihāra, 1 km away from Kara Tepe, consists of three adjacent parts with courts and surrounding rooms. There is a large chamber in the central section with walls covered by splendid polychrome paintings of figures of Buddhist personages, clay and stucco sculptures, and a Buddhist stone relief. Thirty-five Prakrit inscriptions were also found there. Outside the chamber there was a stūpa, initially round, later reconstructed. The coins found at the site date its foundation to the I century CE. Some of the art (the wall paintings) was added later, in the III, or probably IV, centuries CE.

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    Sitting Buddha found at the remains of the Fayaz Tepe monastery.

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    Mural fresco of the Buddha found at the remains of the Fayaz Tepe monastery.

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    Mural fresco of Alexander the Great found at the remains of the Fayaz Tepe monastery.

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    Stone relief depicting a "sun deity" found at the remains of the Fayaz Tepe monastery.

    A Buddhist complex has been also excavated at Ayrtam on the Amu Darya, west of Termeḏ. Archaeologists found there a decorative limestone frieze attributed to the Kushan period, depicting male and female musicians ornately dressed and garlanded, with drum, lute, and harp; a spectacular evidence of Gandhāran art spreading to Bactria. At Zar Tepe, 25 km from Termeḏ, a Buddhist chapel and a stūpa have been also recorded.

    Dal’verzin Tepe is a large site in southern Uzbekistan, located not far from the bank of the Surkhandarya river, approximately 60 km northeast of Termeḏ; it was excavated by the Soviet archaeologist Galina A. Pugachenkova. In the I century CE Dal’verzin Tepe, originally a small Greco-Bactrian fortified place, stretched into an extensive town surrounded by a fortified wall. Historical and archeological data suggest that this town could’ve the original capital of the Yuezhi after their settlement in Bactria. It was during the Kushan period that the town experienced its most intensive period of urban and military building; the old Greco-Bactrian town was rebuilt as a citadel, and the city walls surrounding the new and enlarged site became almost twice as thick and surrounded by a ditch. The Kushan city was rectangular, with buildings laid out in parallel rows; it was subdivided into administrative-military, residential, religious, and manufacturing areas. The excavations also uncovered two Buddhist sanctuaries, two temples dedicated to the local goddess Ardoḵšo, and an ossuary typical of Zoroastrian funerary practice. The remains of the sculptural decoration of the two Buddhist sanctuaries were executed following the canons of the famed Gandhāran art. During the excavations a treasure of gold objects was discovered in one of the town houses; some of the objects have their weights engraved in Kharoṣṭhī script, which was used at the time in Gandhāra; another example of the close and growing contacts between Bactria and northwestern India during the Kushan era and the period that followed it until the Muslim conquest.

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    Sculpture of a boddishatva found at Dal’verzin Tepe.

    Together with Balḵ and Termeḏ, Kondūz was the other large city in ancient Bactria; it’s still an important city, located 176 km east of Balḵ. It’s situated at the confluence of the Kondūz and Khānabād rivers. The Kondūz river is a left bank tributary of the Amu Darya, and its valley forms one of the main passes across the Afghan mountains to the south; in its upper course it’s known as the Sorḵāb river. Due to the confluence of these two rivers, Kondūz sits on a very productive agricultural area, with plenty of water for irrigation. Some scholars believe that it could correspond with the ancient city of Drapsaka, although this is still debated. It could also correspond to the city of Choana in Bactria, listed by Ptolemy in his Geography. During the Kushan era, Kondūz became an important center of Bactrian Buddhism. A ceramic reliquary coming from the Kondūz area is one of the oldest dated Buddhist objects found in Afghanistan; it carries a Kharoṣṭhī inscription which says that there was a Buddhist vihāra in the vicinity and that the teaching of the Dharmaguptaka sect was widespread there. The inscription is dated to the I-II centuries CE.

    The almost complete lack of written sources about ancient Bactria (other than the scarce bits in Classical geographers or in Chinese dynastic chronicles means that scholars have been forced to rely almost exclusively on archaeology and numismatics to reconstruct the history of Bactria during Kushan and Kushano-Sasanian rule. But archaeological surveys in this area are problematic; southern Bactria is included within modern Afghanistan, and in Tajikistan and Uzbekistan the local authorities lack enough resources to undertake systematic archaeological work and take proper care of the sites and discoveries made in the past.

    The period of Kushano-Sasanian rule, according to archaeology and numismatics, was a period of slight decline in Bactria-Ṭoḵārestān. The country clearly saw a height in urban development and extension of the irrigation networks during Kushan rule (I century BCE – II century CE), and the III century CE marks in several sites the start of a long decline that would reach its deepest mark in the V-VI centuries CE. Still, in most sites the start of this decline can’t be detected until well into the IV century CE, precisely when the Sasanians began to lose their grip over Bactria. The Buddhist sites around Termeḏ don’t show any signs of disruption under Sasanian rule, and the site of Delbarjīn actually reached its maximum extension under the Kušān Šāhs. On the other side, the city of Balḵ seems to have entered a period of stagnation and slight decline after the Sasanian conquest, although as far as I know archaeologists have not detected any signs of violent destruction at the site that could be associated with the Sasanian annexation of Bactria. It’s also increasingly evident that, despite the claims of the mowbedān mowbed Kirdēr (see my previous thread, The Rise of the Sasanians) local cults, and especially Buddhism, remained free of harassment under Sasanian rule.

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    The lower valley of the Sherabad river in southern Uzbekistan has been quite intensively studied by archaeologists and it shows a pattern for Late Antiquity that is typical of many Bactrian sites: it reaches a maximum occupation density during Kushan times, and then a long decline until the Muslim conquest, starting a gradual recovery from the VIII century CE onwards.
     
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    7.3 THE AFGHAN HIGHLANDS.
  • 7.3 THE AFGHAN HIGHLANDS.

    The Afghan highlands have been historically difficult to classify. Some authors consider then part of Bactria, until the water divide between the Amu Darya basin to the north, and the Indus and Helmand basins to the east, south and west, while others limit their definition of “Bactria” just to the valley of the Amu Darya proper, and only the piedmont of the Afghan mountains. I will use this later definition because I think it makes more sense in a general approach to the historical geography of the region in Late Antiquity. Politically, the Afghan highlands remained united with Bactria and Gandhāra after Alexander the Great and until the arrival of the Arabs in the VII century CE except for short periods of time, but the geography, economy and ecology of this region is very different from Bactria. Also, although the area was (and remains today) culturally Iranian, Indian influence was even stronger here than in the Amu Darya valley, and Buddhism seems to have been particularly prevalent; the parts of the highlands which drain towards the Indus Basin like Kabul were particularly Indianized from a cultural point of view. Climate here is much more extreme than in the Bactrian plain. Although the latitude is lower, the high altitude means that winters can be extraordinarily harsh; the region of Ghazni has registered several times minimum temperatures of -25 ºC in winter; many mountain passes become closed by snow for several months in winter each year, and this means that human communities, centered in enclosed valleys and basins, have tended to evolve into self-sufficient and autonomous tribal entities. But at the same time, those basins and valleys (Kabul, Bāmiān, etc.) that form the great northern route across the Hindu Kush between Bactria and India have been some of the most vibrant and cosmopolite parts of south-central Asia, as they were located directly on top of one of the most important trade arteries of the Eurasian landmass, the route along which Buddhism spread out of India into Central Asia end eventually into China. Obviously, large cities were also clustered along this route and were much rarer in other areas.

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    Physical map of Afghanistan. The area of the country covered in this post is the northeast of the country, between Balkh (near Mazar-e Sharif) and the Khyber Pass that leads to Peshawar in northern Pakistan.

    Geography and climate in this area is dramatically different from the Bactrian lowlands. The great Hindu Kush range runs from the meeting of the Karakoram and Pamir mountains (at the geographical point where currently the political borders between Pakistan, Afghanistan and China meet) in a southeast direction, and then in turn fans out into lower mountain ranges across a wide west-south arch, losing height gradually until disappearing eventually in the east at the Sistān lowlands and the Helmand river basin. The easternmost of the mountain ranges that branch out of the Hindu Kush is the Sulaiman range (Kōh-e Solaymān in New Persian/Farsi/Dari), which runs along the modern political border between Afghanistan and Pakistan as far south as central Baluchistan; it forms the eastern edge of the Iranian Plateau where the Indus River valley separates it from the Indian Subcontinent. It’s not as high as the main Hindu Kush range (its main peak, the Takht-e Solaymān is “only” 3,487 m. high), but it has few and dangerous passes allowing the crossing between central Afghanistan and the Indus valley.

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    View of the Takht-e Solaymān, in the Sulaiman mountain range.

    This means that in order to go from Central Asia and the Iranian Plateau into the Indus valley there essentially only two options, a northern one directly across the main range of the Hindu Kush and a southern one with skips along the southern limits of the Afghan mountains.

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    View of the Hindu Kush mountains.

    The northern one is the direct route from Balḵ to Taxila (Takṣaśilā in Sanskrit, now in northern Pakistan), known as “the old road to India” since Antiquity, has been always the main link between Central Asia and the subcontinent. It offers far more rapid and satisfactory passage to the Indus than the complicated passes across the Kōh-e Solaymān, which rise to the southwest. In turn, this “old road to India” which eventually led to Kabul (located south of the water divide of the Hindu Kush) has two possible choices. One is the shorter Sālang pass route, to the east. The other, to the west, and more accessible in winter because of the lower altitude, is the road through the Āq-Rebāṭ pass, the Bāmiān basin, the Šibar pass (at 2,987 m), and the Ḡōrband valley. Both routes converge toward the confluence of the Sālang and Panjšir river valleys, where the latter provides another access northward across the mountains by way of the Ḵāwāk pass, where the route crosses the water divide between the Amu Darya and Indus basins. The southern foothills of the Hindu Kush here are occupied by a large basin, at an average elevation of 1,800 meters, which slopes slightly southward, where it is drained from west to east by the Kabul river. The latter, with its tributary, the Lōgar, collects the waters of the northern slope of the Paktiā mountains before opening a route to the Jalālābād basin and the Khyber pass. These, in turn, provide direct access to the central basin of the Indus and all of northwestern India.

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    View of the the Šibar pass.

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    View of the Sālang pass.

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    View of the Ḵāwāk pass.


    The route farther to the west, by way of Marv, Herat, Farāh, Qandahār, and Quetta, offers the advantage of avoiding the Hindu Kush and its western extensions, but it is much longer and runs across several almost desert-like areas. On the other hand, there is plenty of water and food along the northern route, which cuts through the best-watered and most fertile regions of Afghanistan, and where the Kabul basin forms a particularly pleasant resting-place, known since ancient times for its mild and favorable climate.

    The town of Bāmīān is located in a tectonic depression, the Bāmīān basin, in the central highlands of Afghanistan at a height of 2,500 m over sea level. The basin, 50 km long and at the most 15 km wide, has a roughly west-east trend and is flanked on the north by the Kōh-e Sang-e Časpān (4,400 m), the westernmost extension of the Hindu Kush, and on the south by the Kōh-e Bābā (5,135 m). The climate at the bottom of the basin appears to be of the continental high-altitude type, with severe winters (January average -5.6°C, July average 17.4°C) and semi-arid characteristics (annual average precipitation, 148 mm; maximum in one year, 194 mm, minimum 88 mm; rainiest season, spring). Dry can be pursued on the mountain sides but is not feasible in the bottom of the basin, where irrigation is essential for plant and crop growth. Thus, the rise of a town in this harsh environment was not due to agricultural prosperity but resulted from its position on a busy trade route. Bāmīān is a key point for control of the roads and passes through the Afghan mountains linking Bactria to the Kabul basin and northwestern India. To the east, the Šebar pass (2,985 m) gives easy access to the Ḡūrband troughs which lead to the Panjšīr valley and the northern part of the Kabul basin. To the north, the Bāmīān basin is drained by the Sorḵāb (upper course of the Kondūz river), but its narrow gorges do not provide easy passage. The traditional road takes a more easterly route through valleys of transverse tributaries of the Sorḵāb and then over the Āq Rebāṭ, Dandānšekan, and Qara Kotal passes (3,100, 2,700, and 2,850 m), after which it follows the upper valley of the Balḵab river before reaching the Balḵ oasis. Bāmīān’s position midway between Bactria and Peshawar (ancient Puruṣapura) at the approach to the most difficult passes over the Hindu Kush and the opportunities it offers to provide provisions and accommodation for caravans explain why it became a particularly important stopping place and a preferred site for monumental religious sanctuaries.

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    View of the Kōh-e Bābā range, looking south from Bāmīān.

    Bāmīān doesn’t appear mentioned by name until the V century CE in Chinese chronicles; and the Chinese pilgrim Xuanzang visited Bāmīān between 629 and 645 CE and left a detailed description of its monuments and of the social and religious life of the valley. As an important center of Buddhism, the sanctuaries of Bāmīān received numerous bequests and donations, which allowed the erection of important cult monuments. On the northern slope of the Bāmīān valley there is a cliff where once stood two statues of standing Buddhas, the one to the east 38 meters high, the other, to the west, 55 meters high.

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    Bāmīān, view of the rocky cliff where the two colossal Buddhas once stood. The dozens of caves that were once occupied by Buddhist monks are also clearly visible.

    Archaeologists believe that the smaller standing Buddha and the surrounding caves were the oldest Buddhist sites at Bāmīān (dated to the III-IV centuries CE). The larger statue and the adjacent caves formed a larger complex, more coherent in their execution and influenced by the art of Gandhāra and that of the Guptas of India; they were probably executed between the V and VI centuries CE. Situated in the central part of the cliff, between the two Buddhas, there are other cave groups whose wall paintings are the artistic apogee of the Bāmīān school. Recently archaeologists have found in them the oldest oil painting ever recovered elsewhere in the planet.

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    Buddhist painting at one of the Bāmīān caves.

    Xuanzang also recorded the existence of a third gigantic statue, a large reclining Buddha in parinirvāṇa ca. 300 meters long which has not yet been located. Scholars have only fragmentary information on the royal city and on two large Buddhist monasteries built not far from the cliff.

    The favorable situation of the Kabul basin favored the appearance of urban centers since ancient times. Logically they should have been built at the edge of the plain, overlooking the outlets of the great valleys and, if possible, their confluences. Thus, there are two suitable sites: in the north, one controlling the access through the basin north and northwest via the Panjšir and Ḡōrband valleys to the Sālang, Šibar, and Ḵāwāk passes; and in the south, where the Kabul river, after receiving the waters of the Lōgar and the Panjšir, opens a breach in the mountains towards the Jalālābād basin. Both localities were occupied by humans since very early times, but their respective importance has varied considerably through time.

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    Schematic map of the archaeological sites in the Kabul basin.

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    Hydrological map of the Kabul basin.


    The earliest urban development happened on the northern side. When Alexander the Great’s conquest unified the two slopes of the Hindu Kush into one empire (329 BCE), the main settlement was situated north of the basin, on a terrace about 15-20 meters high, which overlooked the alluvial bed. This was Kāpiśa (called Katisa in Ptolemy’s Geographia, known as Kapiśa in Sanskrit, and as Ki-pin in Chinese), ca. 15 km from the edge of the basin, from where commanded the confluence of the Ḡōrband and Panjšir rivers, where today stands the modern city of Begrām. Its importance during the era of Kushan rule is indicated by numerous Buddhist ruins. It appears to have remained the main center of the basin for a long time. But its site, on a plain that could not easily be defended, possibly proved a disadvantage in the face of successive nomadic invaders arriving from Central Asia, from the Sakas and the Yuezhi who overthrew the Greek kingdom of Bactria, to the Hephthalites, who supplanted Sasanian rule, to be followed by Turks and Arabs.

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    View of the northern part of the Kabul basin, where Kāpiśa once stood.

    Archaeology shows that the major urban center tended gradually to migrate toward the south of the basin, which presented a more suitable defensive site. Here the Kabul river, flowing from southwest to northeast in this sector, cuts a deep valley within a rocky range 300 to 400 meters above the average level of the plain, between the two ridges of the Kōh-e Āsmāʾi (2,110 m) to the north and the Kōh-e Šēr Darvāza (2,222 m) to the south. Between the secondary ranges and the river, there was enough space to develop a village protected by fortifications built on the heights, and particularly the Bālā Ḥeṣār, at the easternmost side of the Kōh-e Šēr Darvāza, which would become the strong point dominating the city up to the present day. To the north, the course of the Kabul river itself provided additional protection, while to the east there were marshy areas making it difficult to approach the site from that direction.

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    The Kabul river.

    The urban center that emerged here seems to have coexisted with the northern one for a long time, and in fact it is unclear how the newer town in the south came to prevail. Although the name of the Kabul river appears very early in the sources, that of the city itself, in its definitive form, appears properly only in the VIII century CE. The existence of one or several built-up areas at this site much earlier, however (but way smaller than a city), is beyond doubt. Ptolemy states that this region (the Paropamisadae) had a town called Karoura (or Kaboura); evidently a transcription of the local name. He cites another city at the same place: Ortospana, which Strabo describes as being an important crossroad with three roads leading to Bactria. Perhaps there was, as has been suggested by some scholars, a double city, on both sides of the river. The name appears again a little later, in the V century CE, in the Chinese sources, under the form Kau-fu, which scholars think to be a transcription of Kaboura.

    The remains at the site of Begrām were first identified as being those of the ancient city of Kāpiśa by the DAFA in 1922. Coins issued by the Graeco-Bactrian king Eucratides have been found there, and Xuanzang reported that it used to be the summer capital of the Kushan kings. The site was excavaqted in depth by the DAFA in the 1930s, 1940s and 1950s, in excavations that, among other things, brought to light a spectacular hoard of precious objects that included vessels of Roman-made glass.

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    Two of the Roman glass vessels found at Begrām; archaeologists think that they were probably produced at Alexandria in Egypt.

    According to the French archaeologists Joseph Hackin and Roman Ghirshman, Kāpiśa lived through its heyday under the Kushans, at which time much building took place. Ghirshman claimed that Kāpiśa was devastated by an invasion force led by Šābuhr I in 241 CE, a campaign which brought about the Sasanian annexation of the area, although this is by no means certain. The last level of occupation of the city seems to stretch from this problematic event to a final destruction in the V century CE, during a very convulse time that saw successive invasions of the area by several Hunnic dynasties, intertwined with Sasanian counterattacks. It seems certain that the transfer of centrality between Kāpiśa and what is now the city of Kabul took place shortly before the Muslim conquest, which was led in 870 CE by the Saffarids. During the I-II centuries CE, the city of Kāpiśa was the summer capital of the last Kushan kings. By the time of Hunnic rule (V-VI centuries CE), there’s no certain way to find out the respective situations of the two urban centers, but the fact that the Chinese Buddhist pilgrim Faxian, in the early V century CE, mentioned only Kapitha is an indication that Kāpiśa’s predominance continued. As late as the mid-VII century CE, scholars have gathered from the account of the Chinese Buddhist pilgrim Xuanzang that the main center was still situated there. On the eve of the first Muslim incursion in this area, in 653-54 CE, the Arabs found in Kāpiśa the seat of a kingdom of the same name. This kingdom was a vassal of the Tang, and it was ruled by Hinduized Turks (the Turkshahi dynasty) who spent the summer in Kāpiśa and wintered in the Indus valley.

    Begrām’s treasure was deposited largely in the Kabul Museum, with some objects sent to the Musée Guimet in Paris. It consists mainly of objects of luxury from practically every part of the world known during the Kushan era; and thus, underscores the magnitude and quality of commerce across the trans-Asian trade routes, with the Kushans in the profitable position of middlemen linking India, China, and the Roman empire. Chinese lacquer objects of the Han dynasty were found, together with a fine collection of ornamental glassware, probably from Roman Alexandria. Other Roman objects included bronze statuettes, and a group of bronze, porphyry, and alabaster vessels. Among the discoveries there was also a group of nearly 50 plaster casts of emblemata with reliefs, perhaps originally intended as designs for silversmiths, also of probable Alexandrian origin. In addition, a large and equally extraordinary group of Indian carved ivory plaques and ornaments made for articles of furniture were excavated, bearing a strong similarity to the sculptural styles of the Kushan city of Mathurā and that of Amarāvatī under the Āndhras of the Deccan.

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    One of the plaster medallions found at Begrām, depicting the story of Selene and Endymion.

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    Another of the objects of the Begrām hoard, this time the bronze effigy of a Silenus.

    The Harvard scholar Benjamin Rowland and others dated the Begrām treasure to the I and II centuries CE. A carved Indian ivory mirror handle from Pompeii is remarkably similar in style to some of the Begrām ivories and must date from some time prior to 79 CE. Rowland was skeptical of Ghirshman’s theory of the destruction by of Kāpiśa by Šābuhr I in 241 CE and pointed out that all the objects in the hoard would have been almost a century old by that date, with no more recent additions. He went on to suggest that a period of political turmoil in the region after the death of the great Kushan emperor Kanishka I might have been responsible for the destruction level at Begrām, noting that Kushan dynastic shrines at Surkh Kotal in Bactria and Mathurā in India offer inscriptional evidence of temporary abandonment and decay before being restored by Kanishka I’s successor Huvishka.

    Whatever the truth may be, the treasure is best available evidence of the extensive nature of trade between the Kushan empire, Rome, and China in the first two centuries CE. Scholars believe that it’s unlikely that the hoard’s Roman art objects were actual models for Kushan artistic productions but that nevertheless, they do reflect a strongly classicizing taste among the Kushan nobility and wealthy merchant class and make the hybrid style of Gandhāra sculpture of the Kushan period more understandable. This taste wouldn’t have been developed exclusively under the Kushans, but probably had its roots in the legacy of the Graeco-Bactrian and Indo-Greek kingdoms stretching back in time to Alexander the Great’s Macedonian settlements in the area.

    Downstream the Kabul river, the city of Jalālābād is strategically situated near the western entrance of the Khyber Pass and as such the area has been enjoyed historical importance and has been significantly affected by a large set of economic, cultural, and political relations between Central Asia and India. Buddhism was particularly important here, and this area was one of the main cradles of the Buddhist Gandhāran art. The Chinese Buddhist pilgrims Faxian in the V century CE and Xuanzang in the VII century CE recorded a large number of sites of Buddhist pilgrimage, worship, and cultural production in the Jalālābād region.

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    Aerial view of the Khyber pass.

    Haḍḍa (ancient Nagarāhāra), located approximately 11 km south of modern Jalālābād, was the site of one of the largest Buddhist centers in Afghanistan, and as such was visited and described by the Chinese pilgrims Faxian and Xuanzang. There, an area of about 15 km² remains covered with traces of numerous monasteries (Bāgh Gai, Deh Ghundi, Tepe Kāfirihā, Tepe Kalān, Tepe Shutur, Gan Nao, and others), large and small stūpas, sanctuaries, and artificial caves. The place was especially renowned for shrines said to contain part of the skull bone, a tooth, some hair, and the staff of the Buddha. The monasteries had square or rectangular courts surrounded by sanctuaries, cells, community halls, and other buildings. The center of each monastery was occupied by a large stūpa and several small ones. Sometimes there were two courts, one lined with cells, the other with small sanctuaries. Next to the monasteries and between them there were numerous stūpas, caityas, and sculptures. The stūpas (there were over 500 of them) stood on multi-tier foundations with rich stucco or (rarely) stone decorative relief; architectural details included cornices, Corinthian columns, arches, etc., and rows of sculptural figures (sitting and standing Buddhas, other Buddhist and secular personages). The vihāras were similarly decorated. The art of Haḍḍa constitutes a specific school of Gandhāran art, showing more stylistic freedom, and being more expressive and realistic than the art of the Gandhāra region proper; some art historians consider them to have been executed in an almost perfect Hellenistic style. The sculptors here demonstrated their talent to the full when presenting secular personages (being relatively free of canonic requirements in these cases) rather than deities; and the sculptured heads and figures are of an extraordinary artistic quality.

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    The so- called "Genius with flowers", found at Haḍḍa, II-III centuries CE. Musée Guimet, Paris.

    Some 23,000 Greco-Buddhist sculptures, both clay and plaster, were excavated at Haḍḍa between the 1930s and the 1970s. Although the style of the artifacts is typical of the late Hellenistic II or I century BCE, the Haḍḍa sculptures were initially dated (although with some uncertainty), to the I century CE or later (up to the III century CE). This discrepancy might be explained by a preservation of late Hellenistic styles for a few centuries in this part of the world. However, it’s also possible that the sculptures were actually produced in the late Hellenistic period. Given the technical refinement indicative of artists fully aware of all the aspects of Greek sculpture, it has been suggested that Greek communities could’ve been directly involved in these realizations. In some sculptures and artifacts found further east in Gandhāra proper, the signature of the artist has been found on them, and in some cases it was a Greek name. The style of many of the works at Haḍḍa is so highly Hellenistic that art historians have compared it to that of sculptures found at the temple of Apollo in Bassae, Greece. It should be noted though that the dating of Gandhāran art is notoriously difficult to establish, because most of the objects that belong to it have been subtracted from their original sites without any sort of proper archaeological previous work (an in many cases illegally) and now are dispersed in public and private art collections across the globe without any way to relate them to their original locations. The latest trends in this area though seem to point towards significant later dates for most sculptures of Gandhāran art than it was the case in previous decades. Now, the date for many of the sculptures and reliefs from Haḍḍa has been extended as late as the V and even VI centuries CE, well into the post-Sasanian era in this region.

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    Relief of the boddishatva and Chandeka, found at Haḍḍa; V century CE.

    It is believed that the oldest surviving Buddhist manuscripts (indeed the oldest surviving Indian manuscripts of any sort) were recovered around Haḍḍa. Probably dated to the I century CE, they were written on bark in Gāndhāri using the Kharoṣṭhī script and were unearthed in a clay pot bearing an inscription in the same language and script. They are part of the long-lost canon of the Sarvāstivāda early school of Buddhism that dominated Gandhāra and was instrumental in Buddhism's spread into central and east Asia via the Silk Road. The manuscripts are now in the possession of the British Library.

    Hadda-Bodhisattva-5c-CE.jpg

    Haḍḍa, head of a boddishatva; V century CE.

    A significant volume of the artistic and archeological remains from this period were dug out and taken overseas by European expeditions in the XIX century CE and are now found distributed in European and American art collections. The French Archeological Delegation to Afghanistan (DAFA) excavated Haḍḍa in the 1920s (taking part of their findings to the Musée Guimet in Paris) and a Japanese team worked at a nearby site in Lalma in the 1960s. Much of Haḍḍa’s remaining archeological heritage was lost as a result of Soviet aerial bombardment during the 1979-1989 war.
     
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    7.4 GANDHĀRA.
  • 7.4 GANDHĀRA.

    Gandhāra was the name of a region in northern Pakistan that has a long and illustrious history. As a people, Gandhāris are already named in the Rigveda and the Atharvaveda. Gandhāra is named as one of the sixteen mahājanapadas of ancient northern India (VI to IV centuries BCE) according to ancient Buddhist texts, and it’s also listed in the monumental inscription at Bīsotūn at the Zagros near Hamadān in western Iran as one of the satrapies of the Achaemenid empire. It was annexed by Darius I to his empire, later conquered by Alexander the Great, ceded by Seleucus I Nicator to emperor Chandragupta Maurya. It was later ruled by the Graeco-Bactrian kings, and later the Indian territories split from that kingdom under a separate Greek dynasty which ruled from Gandhāra known as the Indo-Greeks, the most famous king of this dynasty was Menander I, who converted to Buddhism (as described in the Buddhist book Milinda Panha, The Questions of Menander). Gandhāra was conquered around 80 BCE by the Sakas (based in eastern Iran and Afghanistan), whose king Maues made it the center of his kingdom, they were in turn conquered by the Indo-Parthians at an undetermined date around the start of the Common Era. Around 75 CE, the Indo-Parthian kingdom was overrun by the Kushans who were advancing south from Bactria across the Hindu Kush, and Gandhāra entered its “golden era”, as it was located at the very center of the vast empire of the Kushans. It’s still hotly debated by some scholars, but it seems today quite clear that Gandhāra was one of the areas of the former Kushan empire conquered by Šābuhr I and included in the Sasanian-ruled vassal kingdom of Kušanšahr.

    Map-Gandhara-05.jpg

    Physical map with the general location of Gandhāra with respect to Bactria and the Afghan highlands.

    From a geographical point of view, Gandhāra is a natural region with clear natural borders, formed by the lower basin of the Kabul river from the Khyber Pass to its outlet into the Indus river at Attock. So, Gandhāra proper is essentially a broad valley located west of the Indus, and it consists of a plain much broader north of the Kabul river than to its south, where the Spīn Ghar (also known as Safēd Kōh) mountain range runs parallel to the river at a relatively short distance. The region is well-watered by several tributaries of the Kabul river, mostly on its northern bank, of which the most important one is the Swat river. Although this is the region of Gandhāra proper, many times the term Gandhāra (or sometimes “greater Gandhāra”) is used to refer to a significantly larger geographical area, according to variable political boundaries or referring to the wider cultural area where Gandhāran Buddhist art appeared and thrived. Used in this broader sense, the term includes not only the lower Kabul river valley, but also the Swat and Chitral valleys to the north, the upper Kabul river valley to the west of the Khyber Pass all the way to Kapiśa and western Punjab east of the Indus all the way to Taxila, located 35 km northwest of the modern Pakistani city of Rawalpindi. The exact extension of Sasanian control over this area is unsure, as it’s not clear if they ever managed to extend their direct control east of the Indus river.

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    The Safēd Kōh mountain range, seen from the Peshawar Basin (ancient Gandhāra).

    Map-Gandhara-04.jpg

    Map of the main archaeological sites in Gandhāra.

    The ancient capital of Gandhāra was originally Puṣkalāvatī (meaning “Lotus City” in Sanskrit); it was the capital of the Achaemenid satrapy and remained the capital city of the kingdom until the II century CE. Its ruins are located on the outskirts of the modern city of Charsadda, on the banks of the Swat River, near its junction with the Kabul River. In the II century CE, the Kabul river changed its course and the city was flooded, so the Kushan emperor Kanishka I moved the capital to nearby Puruṣapura (Sanskrit for “City of Men”), present-day Peshawar, located on the southern bank of the Kabul river near its junction with the Swat river. From this moment onwards, Peshawar has been the capital and main city of the valley.

    Taxila (from Sanskrit Takṣaśilā, meaning "City of Cut Stone") was located on a plateau in western Punjab, 55 km east of the Indus river. It sits on top of the Grand Trunk Road, which since the times of the Mauryan empire has linked the Indian subcontinent with Central Asia through the Khyber Pass. What historians call “Taxila” is actually the succession of several cities built near each other, but not on the exact same spot:
    • Hathial is the oldest settlement; an archaeological site next to Bhir Mound, just south of Sirkap. It is quite a large site and its foundation may go back as far as 1000 BCE.
    • The Bhir Mound site represents the second city of Taxila, beginning in the late Achaemenid period and lasting until the early Hellenistic period (IV century BCE).
    • The settlement at Sirkap was built by the Greco-Bactrian king Demetrius after he invaded the region around 180 BC. The Greek presence of the region, first under the Graeco-Bactrian kingdom and later under Indo-Greek kingdom was to last until around 10 BC. Sirkap is also considered to have been heavily rebuilt by the Indo-Greek king Menander I. It follows a classical rectangular rectilinear Hellenistic plan.
    • The settlement at Sirsukh was founded by the Kushan king Kanishka I after 80 CE and is the last of the great ancient cities of Taxila. The Kushan king decided to abandon the older site of Sirkap and build a newer city on the other side of the Lundi ravine. The wall of the city is about 5 kilometers long and about 5.4 meters thick, and it covers an area of around 2300 x 1000 meters seen along the east-west direction, laid out in a typical Central Asian style, complete with suburbs outside the wall.
    Txila-cities-01.jpg

    Map of some of the three latests settlements at Taxila, with some of the Buddhist sites mentioned in this post.

    The history of ancient Gandhāra is intimately tied to the history of Buddhism and its expansion out of India into Central Asia and China. Buddhism probably arrived first into the area during the rule of the Mauryan emperor Ashoka (ca. 268 – 232 BCE), but it doesn’t seem to have really gained a foothold until the Indo-Greek period, when king Menander I Soter (165 – 130 BCE) converted to Buddhism. The foundation of one of the oldest Buddhist monuments in the area, the Butkara stūpa in the Swat valley has been dated by archaeologists to the Mauryan period, and the first rebuilding of the monument has been dated to the reign of Menander I. His coins, and those of his successors, also adopted Buddhist symbols and legends. After the Indo-Greeks, the Sakas and Indo-Parthians kept their support for Buddhism, and in the time frame between 75 and 50 BCE, the artistic tradition that is known by modern scholars as “Gandhāran art” was born.

    Butkara-01.jpg

    Relief from the Butkara stūpa. Notice the Hellenistic gear of the warrior at the center of the image.

    Gandhāran art is a Buddhist art, and it was linked to the building of religious sites and artifacts. It’s based on Hellenism and combines it with the artistic traditions of Buddhism that were important from further east in the Gangetic plain. The Bimaran casket (found near Haḏḏa in greater Gandhāra) dated to the time of the Saka king Azes I (48 – 25 BCE) contains the earliest known anthropomorphic representation of the, and scholars believe that it was here in Gandhāra where Buddhism accepted the veneration of Buddha in human form; until then Buddhist art was aniconic, and the Buddha was only represented through his symbols. The reason for it could have been the tastes of the Greek settlers of the area, as Greeks would have been used to the veneration of the images of gods in traditional Greek religion, and they turned to their own artistic traditions when they adopted Buddhism. Gandharan Buddhism and its art lived through their heyday under Kushan rule, but recent reevaluation of the archaeological evidence has led scholars to extend the heyday of Gandharan art well into the V century CE, when Buddhism began to decline in Gandhāra proper, although it still remained strong in the Swat valley and in the upper Kabul river valley (in the area of Haḏḏa and the Kabul Basin).

    Bimaran-Casket.jpg

    The Bimaran casket.

    American scholar Kurt A. Behrendt has divided the evolution of Gandharan art into four phases, with Phase III (early III to late V centuries CE) being a period of great prosperity which witnessed the enlargement and embellishment of many previously existing Buddhist sites.

    Today, the population of the Peshawar valley is predominantly Pashtun, but in ancient times the native population spoke Gandhāri Prakrit, an Indo-Arian language. Unlike Sanskrit and other Prakrit dialects in other parts of the Indian subcontinent which were written using the Brāhmī script, Gandhāri was written using the Kharoṣṭhī script from the IV century BCE to the III century CE, when it was replaced by Brāhmī. The oldest Buddhist manuscripts found to date are the Gandhāran Buddhist Texts, dated to the I century CE. Many Buddhist sacred texts reached Central Asia and China in their Gandhari translations, written down in Kharoṣṭhī script; manuscripts and inscriptions using this language and this script can be found all across Buddhist Central Asia, in Afghanistan, Bactria and the Tarim Basin, all the way to central China. Gandhāran Buddhist monks played an essential role in the propagation of Buddhism out of India and into Central Asia, and finally into China.

    Kharosthi-Scroll-01.jpg

    One of the Gandhāran Buddhist scrolls, written on birch bark in Kharoṣṭhī script.

    During the reign of the Kushan emperor Kanishka I (ca. 127 – 150 CE) Buddhism received a considerable impulse from royal patronage (although Kanishka I was not a Buddhist himself, and his coinage honors a wide variety or religious traditions, including Buddhism). This king presided over the building of a large monastery at Puruṣapura (the so-called Kaṇiṣka mahāvihāra) and after his death a monumental stūpa was built in the complex, the so-called Kaṇiṣka stūpa, a construction that was perhaps the tallest building in the ancient world. This building, famous in the ancient eastern world, underwent several phases during its history. The remains of this stūpa were discovered and excavated in 1908-9 by a British archaeological team in the locality of Shaji-ki-Dheri, then in the outskirts of Peshawar. The excavations led to the discovery of the so-called Kanishka casket, a round gilded copper reliquary which contained three small fragments of bone that were considered to be relics of the Buddha and which were relocated by the British to Mandalay in Burma. Incredibly, during the following decades all records of the excavation were lost, and the location of the stupa was forgotten, until it was “re-discovered” in 2011 by Pakistani archaeologists using satellite photography, but the are has now been overbuilt and has become one of the many slum suburbs of Peshawar.

    The first stūpa, built probably immediately after the death of Kanishka I in 150 CE, is considered by archaeologists to have been similar in overall designs to the much smaller stūpas that can be still be found in the neighboring Loriyan Tangai area.

    Loriyan-Tangai-complete-Stupa.jpg

    Small votive stūpa from Loriyan Tangai.

    The excavations of 1908-9 revealed that the stūpa was rebuilt on a more grandiose scale during the IV century CE with a cruciform plan with a tower-like structure, with four staircases and four corner bastions, and possibly pillars at each corner. The stūpa's symmetrical cross-shaped plinth measured 53 m, though the plinth had large staircases at each of the stupa's sides. In total, the base of the stupa may have spanned 83 m on each side, including the staircases. The plinth was likely decorated with sculpted reliefs, while niches built into the dome's four cardinal points were inlayed with expensive stonework. A tall wooden superstructure was built atop the decorated stone base and crowned with a 13-layer copper-gilded chatra. Modern estimations suggest that the stūpa had a total height of about 120 m. This was the version of the monument seen and described by the Chinese pilgrim Faxian.

    Shah-ji-ki-Dheri-stupa-plan.jpg

    Drawing of the plan of the Kanishka stūpa from the 1908-9 excavation.
    Jaulian-Stupa-A11-reliquary.jpg

    Stūpa-shaped reliquary from Jaulian monastery; its verticality could give us an idea of how the Kanishka stūpa could have attained such a height. In turn, this would become the model for later Chinese and Japanese Buddhist pagodas.


    This stūpa was rebuilt once more during the V century CE keeping the same overall size and design, but probably adding more stucco decoration. This third and final version of the stūpa was the one seen by the Chinese pilgrims Song Yun (travelled between 518 and 522 CE) and Xuanzang.

    Kanishka-Casket-01.jpg

    The Kanishka casket.

    Near the geographical center of the Gandhāra valley stands another imposing Buddhist monument, the monastery of Takht-i-Bāhī, founded by the Indo-Parthians (the earliest inscriptions found at the site bear the name of king Gondophares) during the I century CE and later expanded during Kushan, Sasanian and Hunnic rule until the abandonment of the site in the VII century CE. The monastery was built on a hilltop amid a fertile area of the valley and was expanded in successive construction phases between the I and VI centuries CE. The cessation of construction at the site and its abandonment by the monastic community seems to have been unrelated to any sort of violent destruction, and it was probably due to a stop in charitable funding for the site.

    Takht-i-Bahi-01.jpg

    A quite dramatic overall view of the remains of the Takht-i-Bāhī monastery.

    Other important archaeological remains of Buddhist communities of these centuries are scattered all across greater Gandhāra; they literally litter the area, and considering the sheer amount of existing remains, they have been very poorly excavated and maintained, and have been (and still are) systematically despoiled by antique traffickers. The excavations that were undertaken under British rule during the XIX and early XX centuries were (as was usual at the time) little more than treasure hunts for statues and reliefs that were then sent to Indian or British museums. Other important sites in Gandhāra proper are Loriyan Tangai (only excavated in 1896), Jamal Garhi (excavated by British military officers in 1852 and 1871), Yusufzai (a wide area, where truly remarkable artifacts have been found) and the Ali Masjid stūpa (located right on the Khyber Pass and only excavated by the British during their 1878 campaign in Afghanistan). In the Swat valley to the north and other adjacent smaller valleys there’s an equally imposing concentration of Buddhist remains, like the Butkara stupa (one of the oldest Gandhāran Buddhist monuments, dated to the II century BCE), the monastery at Ahin Posh (where a small treasure was found including gold coins of Kanishka I and a single aureus of the Roman emperor Trajan), the monastery and stūpas of Saidu Sharif (an area excavated by an Italian archaeological mission between 1963 and 1982, and well documented), Barikot (a town that already appears in the accounts of the campaign of Alexander the Great, under the name of Bazira), the ridgetop site of Ranigat (excavated by a joint Japanese-UNESCO mission in the 1980s) or the Bhamala Buddhist Complex (excavated first in the early 1930s, and work resumed in 2017).

    Swat-01.jpg

    The Swat valley in northern Pakistan (anciently known as Uddayana) is renowned for its natural beauty.

    Saidu-Sharif-01.jpg

    Plaster model reconstructing the Saidu Sharif stūpa, according to Italian and Pakistani archaeologists.


    An important concentration of Buddhist archaeological sites exists around Taxila, east of the Indus. About 1 km outside of the settlement at Sirkap, the imposing remains of the Dharmarājikā great stūpa and monastery can be found. Also referred to as the Great Stupa of Taxila, it was built during the II century CE to lodge some bone relics of the Buddha. According to Kurt A. Behrendt, the development of the site shows signs of stagnation during the period of supposed Sasanian rule, but regained impulse once again during the late IV and V centuries CE, when several monasteries and minor stūpas were added to the site. The site was abandoned during the VI century CE, a development that has been traditionally seen as a consequence of the supposed large-scale deliberate destruction of Buddhist sites in Greater Gandhāra by the Hunnish king Mihirakula.

    Dharmarajika-stupa-01.jpg

    Aerial view of the remains of the Dharmarājikā Buddhist complex.

    Not far from the eastern bank of the Indus by the road between Peshawar and Taxila stood once the monastery of Jaulian, built on top of a hill. The ruins of Jaulian consist of a main central stupa (much smaller than the one at Dharmarājikā), twenty-seven peripheral smaller stūpas, fifty-nine small chapels displaying scenes from the life of the Buddha, and two quadrangles around which monastic living quarters were arranged.

    The Buddhist settlement at Kālawān, located 2 km from the Dharmarājikā stūpa, is the largest one in the greater Gandhāra area. From an inscription found at the site, its ancient name may have been Chaḏaśilā, although no remains of this name can be found in the modern toponomy. The name Kālawān (meaning “the caves”) refers to three caves that exists at the bottom of the rocky spur where the Buddhist buildings once stood, in a commanding position with great views over the fertile plains below. These buildings belonged to a Buddhist vihāra that was once the greatest in all of northern India.

    The remains of another large Buddhist vihāra in the environs of Taxila can be found at Mohra Muradu, located 1,5 km from the settlement at Sirsukh. Archaeologists believe it to have been founded during the II century CE and to have been extensively renovated during the V century CE. The site was excavated in 1914-15, and the sculptural decorations found there are among the finest found in the Taxila area. More Buddhist remains in the Taxila region can be found elsewhere, at Kunara, Lalchak or Mankiala.

    What’s most striking about ancient Gandhāra is that, despite its impressive artistic remains, and the very importance this region had for the expansion of the Buddhist faith and traditions all across Asia, very little is known about its political, economic, social or demographic history. No extant ancient texts dealing with the issues have survived, and we have only passing mentions in Buddhist, Middle Persian or Sanskrit texts. And the mentions in Buddhist texts come from religious works, from which very scarce references to the socio-economic realities of Gandhāra can be made by modern scholars. Out of these extremely scarce sources, archaeology and numismatics, scholars have tried to reconstruct ancient Gandhāra, although very little can be said with certainty, apart from some generalities.

    Before the spread of Buddhism, Gandhāra was already a “kingdom” (mahājanapada), and Gandhāris were considered as a “people” or “tribe”, like other similar communities all across northern India. They probably followed a Vedic religion, perhaps somewhat similar to the one still practiced by the Kalash people in northern Afghanistan. It had its own Prakrit dialect (Gandhāri) which was written in its own distinctive script, Kharoṣṭhī (also used to write down the Sanskrit language), while the rest of northern India used the Brāhmī script, between the III century BCE and the IV century CE.

    The adoption of Buddhism seems to have been slow; the first Buddhist monuments are dated in the Buddhist tradition to the reign of the Mauryan emperor Ashoka, but archaeology has dated them to the later Graeco-Bactrian or rather Indo-Bactrian rule. The spread of Buddhism buildings accelerated under the Indo-Parthians and especially under the Kushans, and it was during the period between the I century BCE and the II century CE that Gandhāra became a sort of Buddhist “Holy Land”, saturated with monasteries, stūpas and other religious buildings. Manuscripts and inscriptions in Kharoṣṭhī have been found as far away as the Khotan oasis in the Tarim Basin (they are indeed quite common in Buddhist remains in Xinjiang) and even near Luoyang, the capital of the later Han empire in north-central China. The artistic influence of Gandhāra extended not only out of India, but also east into all of northern India; the cut stones in the archways of the Great Stūpa at Sanchi bear mason’s marks in Kharoṣṭhī script, meaning that stone masons from Gandhāra were responsible for the sculpting of the main gates into the sacred precinct.

    The extraordinary amount of Buddhist buildings built during these centuries in Gandhāra obviously implies a very significant economic inversion, not only for the initial construction, but also for the maintenance over time and especially for the maintenance of the monastic communities associated to it. The Peshawar Basin is a well-watered and agriculturally productive area, but quite small in size, and it’s not comparable to the massive resources that could be gathered in agricultural powerhouses like the Ganges plain, Mesopotamia or Egypt; even when adding to it the resources of the “greater Gandhāra” area in the Afghan highlands, the Swat valley and the Taxila region. This has led scholars to consider that the phenomenon of the flourishing and expansion of Gandhāran art can only be attributed to two causes:
    • The rise of commercial exchanges along the trade route between Central Asia and the Indian subcontinent that runs right across Taxila, Peshawar and the Khyber Pass to the Kabul Basin and from there to Bactria.
    • The succession of several large political empires that straddled both sides of the Hindu Kush and who must have fostered these commercial interchanges, and whose kings were attracted to Buddhism; as Gandhāra was a central, key part of any such empire, these kings became large patrons of the Buddhist settlements in the area.
    Historians have underscored for a long time that in contrast to ancient Hinduism and Zoroastrianism, Buddhism was quite sympathetic towards trade, and this must’ve been a powerful reason for individual merchants and mercantile communities to adhere to this faith; in turn this must’ve been expressed in the public domain through private donations to Buddhist holy sites; many Gandhāran sanctuaries bear traces of the pious contributions of such donors. There are also reasons to believe that the spread of Buddhism was quite quick amongst the Greek communities that existed in the area after the Macedonian conquest. The political unification of both sides of the Hindu Kush was in fact already bin place under the Achaemenids, but once again it seems to have been the advent of Alexander the Great and the later Graeco-Bactrian rule that caused an increase in the importance of the commercial exchanges between Bactria and northern India. The secession of the Indo-Greeks from the Graeco-Bactrian kingdom could have had disastrous consequences, but it seems to have been offset by the fact that Menander I was the first Greek king to officially covert to Buddhism; later the Indo-Scythians (Sakas) and Indo-Parthians once more restored political unity on both sides of the Hindu Kush. The golden era though happened under the Kushans. Between 45 and 60 CE, the first of the Great Kushans Kujula Kadphises advanced south from Bactria and conquered first the Kabul Basin and later Gandhāra. His successors expanded Kushan rule further into India, and reached as far east as Mathura, where they had probably their winter capital.

    Map-Gandhara-01.jpg

    In this map you can see the geographical position of Gandhāra within the Kushan empire and in relation to the main trade routes of that time and the main locations of Buddha's life in northern India.

    Although none of the Kushan kings adopted Buddhism as their personal faith (not even Kanishka I the Great, despite the assertions of Buddhist tradition to the contrary), they protected Buddhism and its sacred places; they rebuilt Taxila and Peshawar became one of the main residence cities for the Greater Kushans, where they built the great monastery and stūpa of Kanishka. This time period of Indo-Parthian and Great Kushan rule also coincides in time with the heyday of Roman trade with the East, a coincidence that has been highlighted more and more by modern research. In 31 BCE, Octavian won the battle of Actium and annexed Egypt to the Roman empire. Soon afterwards, both ancient accounts (usually in the form of lamentations by Latin moralists) and archaeological findings attest to a steady increase in Roman trade with the East, both with the Han empire and India. Some very broad guesses have pointed out that the tariffs levied by the Roman state onto this trade could have accounted for a full third of the total revenues of the res publica during the Principate; and in the same speculative line it’s been advanced that of this amount perhaps ten percent was levied from land trade across Central Asia and Iran, and the remaining ninety percent could have come from the Indian Ocean trade, mainly though the Egyptian ports in the Red Sea but also through the Palmyrene-controlled exchange network in the Persian Gulf, Mesopotamia and the Syrian desert.

    The main reason for the “sudden” start of this intercontinental trade (it already existed, but on a much smaller scale) was that the Augustan conquest of Egypt and his stabilization of the Roman empire’s chaotical political situation together with his establishment of a stable monetary system allowed the connection of, and direct trade between, the great consumer market that was the Roman upper class (both in Rome itself and in other important cities of the empire) with the eastern producing centers in China and India, whose products were coveted by the Roman elites both in themselves and as important means of status display. In turn though, there was no such need in reverse, as there was not a similar pressing demand for Mediterranean goods in the East, except for one important exception: silver. While the value of gold was similar both in the Mediterranean, India and China, silver was exchanged at a higher rate with respect to gold in these two Asian lands than in the west. So, the trans-Eurasian trade that developed during Augustus’ long reign and which became so crucial for the public finances of the Roman empire was basically an exchange of Roman silver (a non-renewable resource) for Asian luxuries (that were renewable resources, like silk, spices or ivory). In modern economic terminology, the Romans covered their trade deficit with the East with silver bullion, which had quite probably a pernicious effect in the long-term as silver became increasingly scarce in the Roman empire. According to Strabo, already during the time of Augustus, 120 ships were sailing from Myos Hormos in Egypt to India every year.

    Arikamedu-Roman-Ceramic.jpg

    Fragment of Roman Aretine ceramic (made in Arretium, modern Arezzo, in Tuscany) found in Arikamedu, southern India.

    The empire of the Great Kushans occupied a central geographical place in this trans-Eurasian exchange network. The main land route from the Han empire across the Tarim Basin and Sogdiana had to cross Kushan territory in Central Asia before reaching Merv or the Caspian Sea to the north, and the alternative branch that from Kashgar on the western Tarim Basin crossed the Pamir and Karakoram mountain ranges into the Kashmir valley and from there to the Indus valley and the Indian Ocean ports also had to cross Kushan territory. The Kushans also controlled the ports at the mouth of the Indus and in Gujarat, as well as the land route that bypassed the Afghan highlands to the south by way of Quetta and Kandahar. Gandhāra sits at the crossroads of the two great trade routes that ran across the Kushan empire: the one from Kashmir to the mouth of the Indus river and the one that follows the Great Trunk Road from Bengal to Balkh through Mathura, Taxila, Peshawar and Kabul. And the great amount of wealth that ran across this relatively small region was what allowed the building and maintenance of so many religious foundations, coupled with royal patronage by Indo-Greek, Saka, Indo-Parthian and Kushan kings.

    The only part of the Roman eastern trade that bypassed Kushan territory was the spice trade that went through the ports of south-western India and Ceylon, where findings of Roman coins and other objects are quite numerous. It has drawn the attention of some historians that the findings of Roman denarii issued from Augustus to Nero are the most common ones, and this has been linked with the fact that the first serious devaluation of the Roman silver coin was undertaken by the latter emperor; from this moment on, the purity standard of the Roman silver coin would have made it unattractive to Indians, and Indian Ocean traders would have resorted to melting Roman coins in order to make ingots with a higher silver content.

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    Ports and places mentioned in the anonymous Greek text Peryplous of the Erythrean Sea, showing also the main products that were involved in the ancient Indian Ocean trade.

    The discovery of the so-called Muziris Papyrus, whose content was first published in 1985 has shed new light onto this trade. It’s an Egyptian papyrus, although its exact provenance is unknown. The papyrus is named after the port on the Malabar coast of India that it mentions, is written in Greek and dated to the mid-II century CE, and it contains incomplete texts on both sides. Its back side (verso) contains an account of goods shipped from India to Egypt on a single voyage of the ship Hermapollon. It calculates values and customs payments based on weight and prices. The goods that could be identified in the one column that was sufficiently preserved include sixty containers of Gangetic nard (a fragrance), ivory tusks and ivory fragments. Much of the list was not preserved and the exact status of the prices (before taxes, including taxes, or after taxes) is not clear. The total weight of the shipment has been calculated by modern scholars calculated at nearly 4,000 kg, and its value, according to one such calculation, in Alexandrian prices after taxes, was nearly 7 million silver drachms, a huge amount equal to that needed to buy a premium estate in Italy at the time.

    The content of front side (recto) of the papyrus is even more interesting. It looks like a contract, and after quite exhaustive analysis and polemics about its contents, the British scholar Basil Rathbone established in 2000 that it’s a master template covering a sea-loan between a lender (the “you” party in the text) and a borrower (the “I” party in the text) which had already taken place in a recent past in Muziris, a port in the Malabar coast (probably located near modern-day Kodungallur, not far from Cochin in the Indian state of Kerala). This means that such contracts were common enough that templates were drawn for them, and that there were in existence lenders with agents and factories all across the India-Egypt trade route, as the lender is described in the text as having agents at Muziris, the Egyptian Red Sea ports, the town of Coptos in Upper Egypt (which was linked by Roman roads across the desert to the Red Sea ports of Berenice and Myos Hormos) and Alexandria. This points towards the existence of very economically powerful lenders, able to engage in such large-scale (and potentially high-risk) enterprises in quite an active way, as the contract implies that the lending party has essentially hired the borrowing party to carry out a commercial enterprise in the Indian Ocean under tight control and oversight of the lender (whose agents are expected to oversee the passage of the cargo at every step between Muziris and Alexandria). And as the American professor Ron Harris hints at in a paper, this could in turn imply that behind such powerful lenders there could be members of the very rich and powerful ruling political elite of the Roman empire, ultimately based in Rome itself: the richest equestrians, senators and perhaps even members of the imperial house itself. The conquest of Egypt would have offered to this ultra-privileged small group (for example, there were only six hundred senators for an empire of between fifty and seventy-five million inhabitants) a very lucrative way to invest their vast fortunes, probably through middlemen (technically, Roman law forbid members of the ordo senatorius from engaging in commercial business, and they were also forbidden by Augustus’ legislation from personally entering the province of Egypt without express authorization of the ruling augustus) and perhaps also through corporations of lenders that allowed them to further dilute the risk.

    Muziris-Papyrus.jpg

    The Muziris Papyrus.

    Myos-Hormos.jpg

    Roman roads linking the Red Sea ports with the Nile valley.


    The III century CE saw a general decline of long-distance trade within the Roman empire. This is attested archaeologically by the precipitous drop in shipwrecks datable to this century; similar shipwrecks have never been studied in the Indian Ocean, but scholars consider it hard to imagine that it could have happened otherwise here. Roman trade with India was linked to the export of silver bullion from the Roman empire, and the III century CE Roman silver coinage attests to a collapse in the amount of physical silver available to the Roman authorities. Given that the Roman state had basically ran out of silver to even pay the army, it’s quite difficult to imagine that such a trade could have come out unscathed from such a scarcity. Historians think that the collapse of Roman trade in the Indian Ocean could have been also the main reason (or at least one of the main reasons) for the weakening of the Kushan empire in the III century CE, and its crumbling under the attacks of Ardaxšir I and his heir Šābuhr I. The importance of the arrival Roman silver is much more visible in southern India, since the use of minted money in this area before the I century CE seems to have been largely unknown. The arrival of huge amounts of Roman silver coins suddenly changed the situation and made the use of coins common in a very short span of time; the sheer amount of Roman coins found and their wide distribution point towards their becoming a common currency in the area; when southern Indian authorities began minting their own coins, they imitated Roman emissions, up to such late dates as the VIII century CE. In the Kushan empire, the situation was different. Here, coinage (in the Greek Attic standard) had been introduced by the Macedonian conquerors, and the Kushans minted their own coinage, so Roman coins were probably melted to mint Kushan ones. Even though, Roman silver and gold coins have been found all across Kushan territory, in the Kabul Basin and Gandhāra, and local coins imitating Roman issues have been also found in northern India.

    Roman-Silver-Coins-India.jpg

    The coin on the left is a silver denarius issued by the Roman emperor Tiberius found in India. The coin on the center is a southern Indian coin imitating a Julio-Claudian Roman denarius, and the one on the right is a silver coin issued by the first Kushan emperor Kujula Kadphises imitating a denarius of Augustus.

    Kushan gold and silver coinage of the III century CE shows a progressive debasing that runs in parallel to that of the silver coinage in the Roman empire, and which probably is connected to the ongoing shrinking of Indian Ocean trade. The crisis of this trade could have shaken the fiscal foundations of the Kushan empire, which could have been based to an important degree on taxing international trade, and with them the ability of the Kushan emperors to pay for their expenses.

    In contrast, Ardaxšir I and Šābuhr I reformed the coinage in the Sasanian empire (the silver drahm had become quite debased during the reign of the last Arsacid kings) and established a high degree of silver content that Sasanian kings were able to maintain until the fall of the empire. This evolution marks a watershed in economic history in Asia; until this moment, Greek and later Roman coinage had been sought after and imitated everywhere (even in Pārs itself, local kings imitated and even struck their own coinage on Roman silver coins), but from this moment on, it was the Sasanian drahm that became the new monetary standard, and other states outside Ērānšahr began to imitate it.

    The history and degree of expansion of Sasanian rule in northwestern India has been and remains quite a debated issue. Of course, it also suffers from the extreme scarcity of written sources I alluded to earlier in this post, and archaeological digs have been of little use in this respect, as their main object has been the study of Gandhāran art. That the first two Sasanian kings conquered all of Bactria and Kushan territory to the Hindu Kush is uncontested today, with archaeological evidence like the great rock relief at Rag-e Bibi in northern Afghanistan, or the finding of seals of the Sasanian šahrab (governor) of Balḵ. But the situation south of the Hindu Kush is much less clear. In the ŠKZ inscription, Šābuhr I claimed that his rule extended all the way to Peshawar:

    And I hold under my protection these lands: Pārs, Pahlav (i.e. Parthia), Xūzestān, Mēšān (i.e. Mesene, at the Iraqi coastline), Āsūrestān (i,e, central and southern Mesopotamia), Nodšēragān (i.e. Adiabene), Arbayestān (i.e. northern Mesopotania), Ādurbādagān (i.e. modern Iranian Azerbaijan and the independent state of the same name), Armin (i.e. Armenia), Viruzān (i.e. Georgia), Segān (i.e. Mingrelia), Arrān (i.e. a territory in the Caucasus), Balāsagān (i.e. another Caucasian territory) until forward to the Kap mountains (the Caucasus range) and the Alans’ Gate (i.e. the Darial Gorge, in modern Georgia), and all the Parišxvār mountain chain (the Alburz mountain range), Māy (i.e. Media), Gurgān, Marv, Harēv (i.e Areia/Aryana), Abaršahr (i.e. the northern part of the modern Iranian province of Khorasan), Kirmān, Sagestān (i.e. Sakastan/Sistān), Tūrestān (i.e. a land not very well identified, thought to lay somewhere in central Pakistan), Makurān (i.e. the modern area of Makrān, in the coastline of southwestern Pakistan and southeastern Iran), Pāradān (i.e. to the north of modern Pakistani Balochistan), Hindustān (i.e. meaning literally “India”, it’s unsure to what land the inscription is referring to), and the Kušānshahr until forward to Pašakbur (i.e. modern Peshawar), and up to Kāš (i.e. Kāshgar, in the Tarim Basin), Sughd (Sogdia), and Cācestān (i.e. the oasis of Tashkent, ancient Čač), and on the other side of the sea the Mazūnšahr (i.e. modern Oman, across the Persian Gulf). And we have given [to a city] the name Pērōzšābuhr (i.e. Mishike, probably modern Anbār), and we have given the name Ohrmazdardaxšir [to another city]. And these many lands, land rulers and district governors, all have become tributary and subject to us.

    If we are to take the text of the ŠKZ at face value, and the identification of Pašakbur with modern Peshawar, then Gandhāra must’ve been under Šābuhr I’s “protection”. But historians are unsure about what this means, and if this was the reality at the time when the ŠKZ was written (during the last decade of Šābuhr I’s reign, 262 to 272 CE) or if was more of a wishful thinking. Currently, “hard evidence” for direct Sasanian rule stops just in the northern piedmont of the Hindu Kush, and nothing in this respect has been found in the Afghan highlands, much less in Gandhāra. The only evidence that I know about (whatever that may be worth) is the finding of some coins bearing the effigy of the Kušān Šāhs in Gandhāra and thought by numismatists to have been minted here, although as they lack mint marks, it’s impossible to be completely sure if these coins were issued here or arrived via trade from Bactria.

    If the armies of Šābuhr I occupied this region, it was not a very destructive conquest, because archaeological digs in the Kabul and Peshawar Basins and the Taxila area have not revealed signs of wholesale destruction datable to this time frame. The only hints of a weakening or an end of Kushan rule in the area, or of political change in general, is a certain degree of decay, or at least a certain stop of expansion, of many Buddhist sites in the area, some of which show signs of abandonment for the first time; that could also be due to the decline in trans-Eurasian trade associated with the troubles in the Roman empire and the weakening of the Kushan empire that would have led to a loss of royal patronage.

    Another possibility is that Gandhāra and other territories located in what is today Pakistan and which are listed in the ŠKZ were not under direct Sasanian rule, but that they were merely Sasanian tributaries ruled by vassal kings. What numismatics make clear is that the Kushan dynasty continued its existence in northern India, although in a much-reduced territorial area; coinage shows a continued debasement of the precious metal content of their coins, in a clear sign of ongoing impoverishment. The problem lies in identifying which exact territories were ruled by these “lesser” or “later” Kushans. Numismatists seem to agree that the Kushan king Kanishka II (r. 225? – 245? CE) only struck coins south of the Hindu Kush, which means that by the mid-III century CE the Sasanians had conquered all the northern lands of the Kushan empire north of this mountain range. The first signal in the numismatic record pointing towards an extension of direct Sasanian rule south of the Hindu Kush is dated to the reign of Pērōz 1 Kušān Šāh (r. ? – 275 CE, according to Khodadad Rezakhani), who minted coins at Balḵ, Herat and Gandhāra and in this latter place he overstruck coins on the coinage of the Kushan king Kanishka III (the only sure date for his reign is that he was active ca. 268 CE); in turn Pērōz 1’s issues were overstruck by Kanishka III’s successor Vasudeva II(?). This could be a sign of an ongoing struggle for control over Gandhāra, although this is all very speculative as you can see. The coinage of Kanishka III is well known among numismatists because in one of his coins he used the title kaisara, thought by numismatists to be derived from the Latin name/title caesar, which could have been perhaps a statement of some sort of alliance or entente with the Romans.

    Kanishka-III.jpg

    Gold dinar of Kanishka III.

    Peroz-1-Kushanshah-01.jpg

    Gold dinar of Pērōz 1 Kušān Šāh. Notice how the Sasanian Kušān Šāhs copied the Kushan coinage, even the image of the god Shiva with the Nandi bull on the reverse.


    Around 270 CE the Kushan territories on the Gangetic plain seem to have become independent under local dynasties such as the Yaudheyas. The two last Kushan kings in the numismatic record are Shaka (r. 325? – 345? CE) and his successor Kipunada (r. 345? – 375? CE), and they became possibly tributaries of the Gupta emperor Samudragupta, as the Allahabad Pillar inscription lists the Dēvaputra-Shāhi-Shāhānushāhi (a Kushan title) as being a vassal of Samudragupta.

    Shaka.jpg

    Coin of Shaka.

    Kipunada.jpg

    Coin of Kipunada, the last attested Kushan king in the numismatical record.


    Whatever the political situation might have been, archaeological excavations at the main Buddhist sites in greater Gandhāra show no signs of violent destruction, and very little in the way of economic difficulties, other than the abandonment of some sites (few of them, actually). And the archaeological record shows that in the IV century CE Gandhāran Buddhist art underwent a new period of splendor that was to continue until the late V century CE in Gandhāra proper and Taxila, and even later in the Kabul Basin and the Afghan highlands. This seems to hint that the Sasanian conquest, if it happened, was not a very destructive one, and that not only did Buddhist communities remain undisturbed, but the land still had enough resources to support them and maintain the monuments. Overall, it can be said with a fair amount of certainty that if the first Sasanian kings (or their successors in the East, the Kušān Šāhs) conquered Gandhāra, this conquest had little impact on the overall prosperity and the material culture of this region.
     
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    7.5 HINDESTĀN.
  • 7.5 HINDESTĀN.

    Apart from the territories beyond the Amu Darya/Oxus (Sogdia and Khwārazm), the remaining territories of the eastern part of the Sasanian empire are much more poorly documented and have also suffered from fewer attention from archaeologists. According to the ŠKZ, these territories were included within the Sasanian provinces of:
    • Harēv: the territory known to Graeco-Roman geographers as Aria/Areia/Aryana.
    • Tūrestān: modern scholars don’t know exactly which territory corresponded to this Sasanian province. Vaguely, we could say that it corresponds to northern Baluchistan (covering parts of southeastern Iran and southwestern Pakistan) and southern Afghanistan, perhaps including Qandahār. This would make it correspond very roughly with Graeco-Roman Arachosia.
    • Makurān: the modern region known as Makrān, in the coastline of southwestern Pakistan and southeastern Iran. To the Greeks and Romans, it was known as Gedrosia.
    • Pāradān: the ancient land of the Pāratarājas, a tribal territory located to the north of modern Pakistani Baluchistan, north of Quetta and south of Gandhāra.
    • Hindustān: in Middle Persian, this means literally “India”, and scholars are unsure about what did Šābuhr I mean with this name, other than “the territories around the Indus river valley under nominal or real Sasanian rule that are not part of either of the aforementioned neighboring territories”.
    I’ve listed these provinces in the same order as they are quoted in the ŠKZ, which follows a counter-clockwise order. I will proceed now in this post and the following ones to describe roughly them in the opposite order, the same as I’ve been following until now in the four previous posts, from the Merv oasis to Gandhāra. This will leave us very near (in geographical terms) to where we started five posts ago, and in the posts following those I will cover the lands beyond the Oxus, thus finishing my presentation of the lands to the east of ancient Ērānšahr.

    Hindēstan is perhaps the most nebulous of all the provinces listed in the ŠKZ. In Middle Persian, it means literally “India”, and the place of this province in the listing, which follows a strict geographical order from west to east, means that it was the easternmost province of Ērānšahr at the time when Šābuhr I had the ŠKZ inscription written down. According to the same text, it was governed jointly with Turān/Tūrestān and Sakastān/Sagestān by Šābuhr I’s son Narsē. There seems to be almost general agreement that this province was located “around the mouth of the Indus river”, but the problem is defining its exact limits, especially to the north and east.

    In the ŠKZ, Šābuhr I’s son Narsē is named as “king of Hindestān, Sakastān and Tūrestān/Tūrān all the way to the sea”, in what must’ve been quite an imposing territorial dominion (in the next post I will address the matter of the location of Tūrestān/Tūrān) extending all the way from east-central Iran to the lower Indus and perhaps even east of it. The unification of these territories in the southeastern quarter of the Sasanian empire under a single sub-ruler seems to have lasted for a time after the end of Narsē’s reign. This is made plain by one surviving inscription in Middle Persian dating from the start of the reign of Šābuhr II. This is the inscription known as “Šābuhr Sakān Šāh’s Inscription at Persepolis” (abbreviated sometimes as ŠPs-I). Šābuhr Sakān Šāh was one of Šābuhr II’s brothers, who received the prestigious title of “King of the Sakas” (Sakān Šāh). This inscription was engraved on the ruins of the vast Achaemenid palace-city of Persepolis, located very near to the symbolic center of the House of Sāsān at Staķr in Pārs. The inscription reads as follows:

    In the month of Spandārmad, in the second year of the Mazda-worshipping lord, Šābuhr king of kings of the Iranians and non-Iranians, whose lineage is from the gods, at this time when Šābuhr Sakān Šāh (ruler of) Hindestān, Sakastān and Tūrān, to the shores of the sea, the son of the Mazda-worshipping lord, Ohrmazd king of kings of the Iranians and non-Iranians, whose lineage is from the gods, made salutations at the court of the lord, and went on this road through Staķr to Sakastān, and for piety he came here to Sadstūn (“Hundred Column [hall]”), he ate food in this place, accompanying him was Wahrām ī Naxw-Ohrmazd the Councilor of Sakastān, and Narsē, the priest of Warāzān, and Dēn of Rēw-Mihrān from Zarang, the Governor, and Narsē the Scribe, and other Persian and Sakastānī nobles and messengers from all provinces and lord(s), they made a great celebration, he ordered the worship of the gods, his father and ancestors were praised, he praised Šābuhr, king of kings, and he praised himself, and he also praised those who built this place, may god remember (them).

    In short, Šābuhr Sakān Šāh was travelling from the imperial court of his brother Šābuhr II Šāhān Šāh (either at Ctesiphon, or perhaps at some of the royal residences in Pārs) to his territories in the east at Sakastān and as the road crossed through Staķr, he decided to make a short detour to visit a place with great symbolic significance for the origins of his dynasty. But what’s interesting for us right now is that he had been invested with exactly the same titles that Narsē had enjoyed half a century earlier, which implies that these territories were seen as some sort of coherent entity which was fit to be ruled by a single king on behalf of the Šāhān Šāh, and that this sub-king was to be a close relative of the king.

    Without much in the form of historical sources or archaeological evidence to rely on, most historians refer to the Sasanian province of Hindestān as being based vaguely “around the Indus valley”, and that it perhaps included also Sindh, a large alluvial plain located mostly on on the eastern bank of its lower valley.

    The Indus River originates in the Tibetan Plateau and flows into the Indian Ocean near Karachi in modern Pakistan, a state that it crosses in its entirety from north to south. It has a drainage area of 1,165,000 km2, and an annual flow that is twice that of the Nile and three times that of the Tigris and Euphrates combined. Until its junction with the Kabul river at Attock, the Indus runs through mountains and rugged terrain, but from this point to its mouth, the river runs across mostly flat lands. It has several tributaries on its western bank (the Shyok, Gilgit, Kabul, Gomal, and Kurram rivers, which originate in the Hindu Kush and Sulaiman mountain ranges) but its main tributaries lay on its eastern bank: the Zanskar in Ladakh and further downstream in the plains the Panjnad, which itself has five major tributaries: the Chenab, Jhelum, the Ravi, the Beas, and the Sutlej. The plain crossed by these six tributaries of the Indus and the Indus itself is the Punjab, and it’s already mentioned in the hymns of the Rigveda as Sapta Sindhavaḥ and the Avesta as Hapta Həndu, both terms are cognates and mean "seven rivers".

    Indus-Karakoram.jpg

    The Indus river in its upper course, in the Karakoram mountains.

    In pre-Vedic times, the valley saw the appearance of one of the most ancient cultures of the ancient world, the Indus valley civilization. The Indus is praised in the Rigveda, and its Sanskrit name is Sindhu (meaning “large body of water”); when the Indus valley was conquered by Darius I the Great and annexed into the Achaemenid empire, it was called Hindu in Old Persian, which in turn became Indós (Ἰνδός) in Greek which then was Latinized as Indus. India is a Greek and Latin term for "the country of the Indus River". Since late antique times, the region around lower valley and east of Baluchistan has been caleld called Sindh and owes its name to the Sanskrit name for the river.

    Indus-Sukkur.jpg

    The Indus river at Sukkur, in Sindh.

    The whole Indus Basin is largely fed by the snows and glaciers of the Himalayas and other large mountain ranges like the Hindu Kush and Karakoram mountains. The flow of the river is also determined by the seasons: it drops significantly in the winter, but it floods the riverbanks during the monsoon months from July to September. There is also evidence of a steady westwards shift in the course of the river since prehistoric times; until an earthquake in 1816 it flowed into the Rann of Kutch and adjoining Banni grasslands, much further to the east than its present location. Currently, water from the Indus delta flows across the Indo-Pakistani border into the Rann of Kutch during its floods expanding much further than its usual banks. According to the accounts of Alexander the Great’s campaign, in ancient times the banks of the river were heavily forested, while today the region is completely bare and devoid of any vegetation, except for farmland. As late as the XVI century CE, the first Mughal emperor Bābur wrote in his memories (the Bāburnāma) about encountering rhinoceroses in the Indus valley.

    Waterfall is meagre in the lower Indus valley, despite the floods caused by monsoon rains further upstream, so historically irrigation and hydraulic works have been essential in this region. There’s archaeological evidence that already the Indus valley civilization built a large network of dams and irrigation canals, and all the following cultures have done the same.

    Pakista-Physical-Map-01.jpg

    Physical map of Pakistan, showing the course of the Indus river and the location of Sindh and the Punjab.

    The alluvial plain of Sindh is limited to the west by the Kirthar Mountains (which run close to the Indus on its western bank near the coast, and form the limit between Sindh and Baluchistan), to the south by the Indian ocean and the salt marshes of the Rann of Kutch and to the east by the Thar Desert, while to the north it has no clear natural borders with the Punjab. A cursory look at a physical map of Sindh will show that the region is almost completely flat. It receives little rainfall, and for cultivation it depends from irrigation by water canals which take water from the Indus River which runs southwards along its western border and carry it on a southeast direction onto the Sindh plain. Wherever the irrigated land ends, the Thar Desert begins. Historically, he Indus River has been one of the rivers in the world that has dragged more sediments into the sea, forming a large delta; today the situation has changed due to the building of many dams on the river that has caused the inflow of sediments to the delta to drop drastically. The delta of the Indus, despite being a dangerous coast, has been an important hub of trade since the third millennium BCE, when already the cities of the Indus valley civilization engaged in sea trade with Mesopotamia. We’ll return to this point later.

    According to Late Vedic and early Buddhist literature and the Mahābhārata, Sindh was the seat of the Sauvīra kingdom, one of the kingdoms of Vedic India, and its capital Roruka was already described as a major trading center. In the late VI century BCE, Darius I the Great conquered Sindh and included it in the satrapy of Hindūš. According to Herodotus, this satrapy paid by far the largest tribute of all the satrapies of the Achaemenid empire (3,600 Babylonian silver talents out of a total tribute of 11,140 Babylonian talents of silver, a 32% of the total income of the empire). It was conquered by Alexander the Great in the IV century BCE and later Seleucus I Nikator ceded it to the Indian emperor Chandragupta Maurya in 305 BCE. During Mauryan rule, Buddhism first arrived at Sindh, and it would soon take roots in this land and become its leading religion until the Muslim conquest in the early VIII century CE (Buddhism survived in Sindh until the XIII century CE).

    Indo-Greek-Map-Color.jpg

    The Indo-Greek kingdom and its expansion into northern and central India.

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    The Indo-Scythian kingdom and its expansion into northern and central India.

    In 186 BCE, the Maurya dynasty collapsed and Demetrius I of Bactria crossed the Hindu Kush and conquered many lands in northwestern India, Sindh amongst them. Together with the other former Graeco-Bactrian territories south of the Hindu Kish, Sindh seceded from the Graeco-Bactrian kingdom under the Indo-Bactrian dynasty. In the late II century BCE, the Sakas under Maues conquered the Indo-Greek kingdom from their bases in Sakastān and Arachosia in the west, and a century later the Indo-Parthians of Gondophares followed in their steps and annexed the Indus valley to their domains. But then, in the mid-I century CE, the whole Indus valley was conquered by the Kushans led by Kujula Kadphises, who crossed the Hindu Kush from Bactria. Historians suppose that then the Sasanians conquered Sindh and the rest of the Indus valley from the later Kushans during the III century CE.

    Vima-Kadphises-with-ithyphallic-Shiva.jpg

    Gold dinar of the third of the Great Kushans, Vima Kadphises.

    Practically nothing is known about the social, administrative and demographical history of Sindh during the years of possible Sasanian rule. There’s some scarce information dating from the I century BCE to the II century CE by Graeco-Roman authors, and later medieval Islamic accounts describing the Rai kingdom of Sindh that was founded in the mid-VII century CE and was subsequently conquered by the Muslim army of Muhammad ibn Qasim in 712 CE. The main Classical texts that describe the coasts of Sindh, and the cities and countries that could be found along them, are the anonymous Periplus of the Erythraean Sea (written in Greek during the mid to late I century CE) and the Geography of Claudius Ptolemy. Both texts name the coast of the mouths of the Indus, as well as the coast of the neighboring Kutch peninsula (the territory of Saurashtra, now part of the Indian state of Gujarat) as Scythia or Indoscythia, a testimony of the preeminence of the Indo-Scythians in this part of India.

    The choice of name is logic for Saurashtra, because that was the heartland of the kingdom of the Western Kshatrapas (or Western Satraps), ruled by a successive dynasties of Saka origin between 35 and 405 CE, but it’s somewhat puzzling for Sindh, and it has raised the question of what was the exact political status of this area: was it under direct Kushan rule at the time, or was it ruled by Saka kings (independent or as tributaries of the Kushans)?

    The great trade emporium during the I and II centuries CE at the Indus delta, quoted in both texts, was the city of Barbarikon (Barbaricum in Latin); the name is obviously a Greek one, and the local name is unknown to us. The city is quoted twice in the Periplus:

    This river (i.e. the Indus) has seven mouths, very shallow and marshy, so that they are not navigable, except the one in the middle; at which by the shore, is the market-town, Barbarikon. Before it there lies a small island, and inland behind it is the metropolis of Scythia, Minnagara; it is subject to Parthian princes who are constantly driving each other out.

    Beyond this region (i.e. Gedrosia), the continent making a wide curve from the east across the depths of the bays, there follows the coast district of Scythia, which lies above toward the north; the whole marshy; from which flows down the river Sinthus (i.e. the Indus), the greatest of all the rivers that flow into the Erythraean Sea, bringing down an enormous volume of water (...) The ships lie at anchor at Barbarikon, but all their cargoes are carried up to the metropolis by the river, to the King. There are imported into this market a great deal of thin clothing, and a little spurious; figured linens, topaz, coral, storax, frankincense, vessels of glass, silver and gold plate, and a little wine. On the other hand, there are exported costus, bdellium, lycium, nard, turquoise, lapis lazuli, Seric skins, cotton cloth, silk yarn, and indigo. And sailors set out thither with the Indian Etesian winds, about the, month of July, that is Epiphi: it is more dangerous then, but through these winds the voyage is more direct, and sooner completed.

    These texts are extracts from section 38 of the Periplus, which refers to Scythia as a very flat region through which the Indus River (Sinthos) flowed. It is referred to as the mightiest of the rivers along the Erythraean Sea and it was recorded to have seven mouths of which only the middle one was navigable. The trading port (emporion) named Barbarikon was located within Indoscythia. Claudius Ptolemy too, in his Geography (ca.150 CE) mentions the region of Indoscythia. His Indoscythia included at least two series of towns on each side of the Indus, one along the river and the other at some distance from it. However, it is important to note that Ptolemy did not place any emporion in his Indoscythia, which included the lower Indus region.

    Notice also how this passage from the Periplus says: “The throne is in the hands of the Parthians, (Parthian princes, according to some scholars) who are constantly chasing each other off it”. This implies political instability. It is generally assumed that the “Parthian princes” were successors of Gondophares (ca. 20/21 CE - 45/46 CE) the famed Indo-Parthian ruler. The dating fits well with the accepted date of the Periplus. Numismatic evidence rises the possibility that the rule of the Indo-Parthian princes continued in this region after Gondophares. Again, it is from the Periplus that we come to know that these Parthian princes were involved in an internecine struggle in Indoscythia in the lower Indus valley. Perhaps taking advantage of this political instability, the third of the Great Kushan kings Vima Kadphises conquered the lower Indus country and annexed it to his empire. This has been confirmed by the finding of a coin hoard which contained three coins issued by Vima Kadphises along with several coins of Gondophares that according to numismatists were minted in Sindh, as this was the only part of northwestern India at the time which was issuing coins with a high standard of precious metal.

    The silver currency used in Sindh was always of high intrinsic value irrespective of the political authorities issuing them. Thus, even when Gondophares issued debased silver for other areas of his empire, coinage issued in the lower Indus country remained of good quality. Perhaps the trading potential of this region prompted the rulers to keep to a particular standard and, consequently, we may say that a standard coinage was a means to administer foreign trade. As attested by Chinese sources, Vima Kadphises was well aware of the economic potential of this area and eventually he annexed the port of Barbarikon and the rest of Sindh to the Kushan empire. B.N. Mukherjee drew attention to the Chinese Chronicle of the Later Han (Hou Hanshu) which recalls how the Kushans became extremely rich and powerful as a result of their conquest of the lower Indus country, which the Chinese called Shentu. Thus, the Kushan conquest brought together several commercially important regions under one political authority.

    This conquest was also crucial in the history of the expansion of the Kushan empire in the Indian subcontinent. However, their advance further into India was detrimental to the growth of Barbarikon. With the lower Indus valley under its control, the Kushans used Barbarikon as springboard to move further east. From the Rabatak inscription found near Surkh Khotal in Bactria (now in modern Afghanistan) we know of Kanishka I the Great’s extensive conquests in India. The inscription records that Kanishka I’s rule was followed at Koonadiano (Kaundinyapura), Ozeno (Ujjayinī), Zagedo (Saketa), Kozombo (Kauśambi), Palabotra (Pāṭaliputra) and Ziri-tambo (Sri Champa). These cities lay to the east and south of Mathura, which was already under Kushan rule since the reign of Vima Kadphises. Under the Kushans, a large tract was now politically united which included large and rich urban centres like Mathura and Ujjain in the interior of India. These two centres acted as a lucrative hinterland for the port of Barygaza further south in what’s now modern Gujarat and and were also connected to important trade routes further east. The extent to which Kanishka I’s successors were able to retain control over the territories to the east of Mathura nevertheless remains doubtful.

    Rabatak-inscription.jpg

    The Rabatak inscription of the Kushan emperor Kanishka I the Great. It's written in Bactrian, using the Bactrian alphabet (a variation of the Greek one).

    Indian historian Suchandra Ghosh noticed that according to Pliny’s account, who described the stages in the development of Graeco-Roman sailing in the Indian Ocean, an interesting feature can be observed. Western navigators discovered that the more the journey was directed towards southern India, the shorter and safer it was. Thus, in the early period ships arrived to Patala or the Indus delta, then to Sigerus (possibly modern Jaigarh) in the western Deccan and finally to Muziris in what’s today the Indian state of Kerala. At the final stage it was possible to reach Muziris from Berenike/Myos Hormos in “forty days” by using the south-west monsoon (Hippalus/Etasian wind/Hypalum of the classical texts). Accordinly, it was possible to reach a port on the western seaboard of India in twenty days, instead of forty days. Thus, according to Ghosh easy access to the south meant that the attention of the Kushan rulers shifted away from the lower Indus region, and that this affected the growth of Barbarikon.

    Once more according to Ghosh, with the alleged Sasanian conquest the area of the Indus delta, came again to the forefront as an important source of income for the new dynasty, and this would have been a very important factor in the vitality and survival of commercial emporia in the Indus delta in Sasanian times. The city of Barbarikon drops from historical sources after the Periplus, and its remains have never been located. No other large commercial towns in this area appear in the historical record for the following five centuries, until the Umayyad conquest of Sindh in the early VIII century CE. By then, Sindh was a kingdom ruled by a Hindu dynasty whose main trading city was the port of Daybul/Debal/Debol/Deb, located on an island on the Indus delta, and which was the first Indian city to be conquered by the Muslims. Daybul was abandoned in the XIII century CE, after the bed of the Indus shifted and the city lost access to its navigable channels.

    In the 1930s, British and Indian archaeologists began excavating at the site of Banbhore in the Indus delta. The site rises at the mouth of the Indus’ delta on the northern bank of the Gharo channel, midway on the route from Karachi to Thatta, ca. 30 km from the present shoreline. It consists of a citadel encircled by a wall with bastions (47 circular towers and 8 rectangular bastions), overlooking an artificial lake of sweet water to the north-east of the wall, and a vast area of extramural ruins, which were once likely harbor structures, urban quarters, suburbs, warehouses, workshops and artificial barrages. There are widely spread scatters of sherds, beads, clay moulds, coins and other artefacts. A towered wall, named the “partition wall” by earlier scholars, runs through the whole citadel, approximately north-south, dividing the area in two parts. Altogether, the citadel and the surrounding quarters cover a surface of ca. 65 hectares.

    The-Site-of-Banbhore.jpg

    Archaeological map of the site of Banbhore.

    Since 1929, several excavation campaigns have been undertaken at Banbhore, and are currently being conducted by a joint French-Italian-Pakistani team. The most exhaustive excavation campaign before the present one was the one led by F.A. Khan in the 1960s, and he announced the discovery of three successive strata in the city (listed here in inverse chronological order:
    • An Islamic layer, datable between the VIII and XIII centuries CE.
    • A “Hindu-Sasanian” layer.
    • A “Scytho-Parthian” layer.
    The importance of the site was undoubtedly linked to its strategic position and the surrounding environment; its imposing remains are a clear testimony to the major role it played across the centuries. In several periods of its existence it seems to have been a nerve junction of the Indus system, the northern terminal of the monsoon sea routes, and the center of a prosperous trade of luxury goods between the Central Asian basin and the Iranian plateau, Arabia and the Indian Ocean all the way to China in the East and western markets. Its location on a branch of the Indus River (the Gharo channel) could provide good shelter for all convoys arriving there from north and south, loaded with what were probably primarily luxury goods. The favorable environment, if properly irrigated by human intervention, could provide agricultural resources which would have been a considerable economic support for the city, enabling it to provide passing caravans and convoys with fresh supplies.

    Banbhore-site.jpg

    Aerial view of the site.

    Quite obviously, since the start of the archaeological work at Banbhore, archaeologists and historians have been tempted to identify it with the ancient trading emporia of Barbarikon and Daybul, but to this day, it’s been impossible to find clear evidence to support these claims.

    The text from the Periplus quoted above also mentions a city called Minnagara, located inland from Barbarikon and which is called “the metropolis of the land”. French archaeologist Monique Kervran tentatively located Minnagara in the region of Brahminabad, in modern Pakistan. Unlike Barbarikon, Minnagara is clearly an Indian name. It could be derived partly from Nagara, the Sanskrit word for “town”, while the city itself might have been called Min, a name found in Isidorus of Charax as the name of a Scythian city in Sakastān (thus, Minnagara would mean “The town of Min”).

    But then, confusingly both the Periplus and Ptolemy mention a second city called Minnagara, which according to them was located upstream the Narmada river, upstream of ancient Barigaza and below the city of Ujjain (in modern Gujarat). According to the Periplus:

    Beyond the gulf of Baraca is that of Barygaza and the coast of the country of Ariaca, which is the beginning of the Kingdom of Nambanus and of all India. That part of it lying inland and adjoining Scythia is called Abiria, but the coast is called Syrastrene. It is a fertile country, yielding wheat and rice and sesame oil and clarified butter, cotton and the Indian cloths made therefrom, of the coarser sorts. Very many cattle are pastured there, and the men are of great stature and black in color. The metropolis of this country is Minnagara, from which much cotton cloth is brought down to Barygaza.

    And in Ptolemy’s Geography:

    Moreover, the region which is next to the western part of India, is called Indoscythia. A part of this region around the (i.e. the Indus) river mouth is Patalena, above which is Abiria. That which is about the mouth of the Indus and the Canthicolpus bay is called Syrastrena. (...) In the island formed by this river are the cities Pantala, Barbaria. (...) The Larica region of Indoscythia is located eastward from the swamp near the sea, in which on the west of the Namadus river is the interior city of Barygaza emporium. On the east side of the river (...) Ozena-Regia Tiastani (...) Minnagara.

    These two text fragments need some explanation, because there is a lot of place names in them. The gulf of Baraca is the gulf of Kutch, in the Indian state of Gujarat. Barygaza is the name of an ancient trade emporium that corresponds today to the town of Bharuch (Bharūca in Gujarati), at the mouth of the river Narmada. According to the Periplus, Hellenistic influence was still strong there at the time it was written:

    To the present-day ancient Drachmae are current in Barygaza, coming from this country, bearing inscriptions in Greek letters, and the devices of those who reigned after Alexander the Great, Apollodotus and Menander (i.e. the Indo-Greek kings).

    The Kingdom of Nambanus has been identified by scholars as a reference to Nahapana, who was a ruler of the Western Kshatrapas and is known for his silver coins which he minted with Greek and Prakrit legends. Abiria is a clear reference to the land of the Abhiras, a tribe that lived in northwestern India and whose exact precedence is unclear (some scholars believe be to be of Indo-Aryan stock, while others consider them to have been Dravidians). In the Purānas, the Abhiras occupied the territories of Herat; they are invariably juxtaposed with the Kalatoyakas and Haritas, peoples that inhabited lands in what is today Afghanistan. apparently, they later migrated eastwards into northwestern India. By the time of the I to IV centuries CE, they were followers of the Vedic religion and according to Indian texts they worshipped especially Krishna, whom they believed to be their ancestor. The exact extent of their territorial dominions is uncertain; there is no certainty regarding the occupational status of the Abhiras, with ancient texts sometimes referring to them as warriors, pastoral and cowherders but at other times as plundering tribes. Numismatists believe that for most of the III century the became the main territorial power in the Deccan, after the demise of the Satavahana empire, but at the time of the Gupta emperor Samudragupta they are recorded as dwelling in Rajputana and Malwa (around Ujjain).

    Silver-coin-of-Nahapana.jpg

    Silver drachm of Nahapana, ruler of the Western Kshatrapas.

    Syrastrene/Syrastrena (also named as Saraostus and Surastrene in other texts) is also an obvious reference to the region of Saurashtra in the Indian state of Gujarat, a peninsula located between the Gulf of Kutch and the Gulf of Khambhat. Ptolemy specifies that the cities of Pantala and Barbaria stand on an island formed by the river Indus, meaning probably islands on the Indus delta. Barbaria is believed to be the same as Barbarikon.

    Saurashtra.jpg

    Situation of Saurashtra in the western coast of India.

    Patalena or Patalene is believed to be the Greek name for what’s today Sindh in Pakistan. Notice how Ptolemy says that Abiria is “above Patalene”, which seems to hint that in the II century CE (when Ptolemy wrote his Geography), the Abhiras lived in what’s today the Indian state of Rajasthan.

    Nrmada-River-Dhuandhar.jpg

    The Narmada river in Madhya Pradesh, near the Dhuandhar waterfalls.

    The “swamp near the sea” in Ptolemy’s text is probably a reference to the Rann of Kutch, and the Namadus river is quite clearly the Narmada river. And the words Ozena-Regia Tiastani have been interpreted as a reference to the important city of Ujjain, which was the capital city of Chashtana, ruker of the Western Kshatrapas beyween 78 and 130 CE.

    Rann-Kutch.jpg

    The Great Rann of Kutch, the largest salt desert in India.

    So, overall the coast of Sindh and Gujarat was well known to Graeco-Roman traders and geographers between the I century BCE and the II century CE; the problem is that these sources dry out after Ptolemy’s Geography, while quite unfortunately Indian sources, archaeology and numismatics aren’t of much help: scholars have quite a lot of information about events in Gujarat, the Deccan and the Gangetic Plain, but nothing about Sindh. The neighboring territories to the southeast of Sindh in Malwa and Gujarat remained steadily under control of the Western Kshatrapas between 35 – 405 CE, and all the known armed conflicts they underwent confronted them with other Indian dynasties to the east and south: the Satavahanas and the Yaudeyhas, until their final conquest by the Gupta emperor Chandragupta II.

    Ptolemy considered Indoscythia to be formed by Patalena and Syrastrena, which means that in his time (mid-II century CE, the Indo-Scythians dominated all the area of modern Sindh and Gujarat, The Sakas or Indo-Scythians invaded northwestern India in the late II century BCE from their original base in Sakastān (and this wave of invaders could have included not only Sakas, but also other allied Iranian tribes, like the Pāratas, about whom we will deal in the following post); a century later they were followed by the Indo-Parthians of Gondophares, but Saka chiefs or rulers seem to have been able to cling to their authority in these coastal areas, probably in a highly disgregated fashion. It’s unknown (but quite probable) that these chiefdoms became vassals first of the Indo-Parthians and later of the Great Kushans. From this constellation of Saka chiefdoms, eventually a more or less centralized state emerged in the I century CE, under the sway of the Kshaharata dynasty. The first member of this dynasty to issue coinage was Abhiraka, in the I century CE. His name has led scholars to think that he belonged to the Abhira tribe, and his earlier coins have been found in the area of Chukhsa in northern Pakistan (west of Taxila), with later coins having been found to the south, suggesting a southern migration at some point, possibly in search for trade. His coins have been found extensively in what’s today Afghanistan and as far away as the modern Arab states of the Persian Gulf.

    West-Kshatrapas-01.jpg

    The kingdom of the Western Kshatrapas.

    In his coins, Abhiraka and his son Bhumaka only used the title satrap (Kshatrapasa in local Prakrit), and it was Bhumaka’s son Nahapana the first to take the royal title rājā (in Sanskrit) or raño (in local Prakrit). Their three-hundred years of rule over the area of Gujarat and perhaps Sindh were fraught with dramatic changes of fortune, and they fought for two centuries (with interruptions) with the Satavahana dynasty of the Deccan. At the end of the II century CE, the Satavahana ruler Gautamiputra Yajna Sri Satakarni defeated the Western Kshatrapas (now led by the Kardamaka dynasty) and conquered most of their southern territories. But the Western Kshatrapas’ fortunes revived under Rudrasena II (256-278 CE), recovering the lost territories and attaining a new height of prosperity, as attested by their coinage. This would be the time when the Sasanian armies of Šābuhr I would have first reached the Indus River valley, but as I wrote before, despite Ptolemy’s treatment of Sindh and Saurashtra as if they were a single country, there’s no documental or archaeological evidence for Sindh being under control of the Western Kshatrapas, nor for a Sasanian conquest of the area (or at least I’ve been unable to find any mentions about it in the literature that I’ve consulted). It could be a possibility that the Western Kshatrapas did indeed rule over Sindh (perhaps under Kushan vassalage) and that they were affected by the Sasanian appearance in the area, or it could be that Sindh was under direct Kushan rule or under rule by local authorities (perhaps of Saka stock) and was conquered by the Sasanians, or it could be that Sindh was not conquered at all, although that leaves us with the question of which territories were included in the Sasanian province of Hindestān (only the western bank of the Indus valley? lands further north in western Punjab?). The rule of the Western Kshatrapas continued undisturbed during the IV century CE, under a new dynasty whose first ruler was Rudrasimha II (304 – 348 CE).

    Rudrasena-II-Circa-256-278-CE.jpg

    Silver drachm of Rudrasena II.

    As I wrote before, north of Paradene/Sindh the territory of what’s today the Indian state of Rajasthan (which comprises the Thar Desert on its western part) seems to have been controlled by the Abhiras, although very little is known for sure about them; this territory would also have had a direct border with a hypothetical Sasanian-ruled Sindh and lower Indus valley. In a 1990 paper, H.S. Thosar offered quite a detailed reconstruction of their history, based on whatever evidence was available then. In Thosar’s reconstruction, the Abhiras would have been a “foreign” tribe like the Sakas (the Sakas were called mlecchas in Sanskrit works, a word that has roughly the same pejorative meaning as barbarian in Greek and Latin works) and probably they entered the Indian subcontinent jointly with them, and followed their path within it in later centuries, through the Indus Delta, Rajasthan, Madhya Pradesh, Maharashtra and Gujarat; finally both peoples settled in an area covering territory the three latter Indian states. They were originally probably pastoralists centered on cattle-raising and some of them entered the service of the Saka Kshatrapas and helped them in their wars and conquests; during this time the Abhiras were settled in Saurashtra and served them, as can be deduced from several inscriptions in the area.

    Abhira-Isvaradata.jpg

    Silver coin of king Abhira Isvarasena.

    When the Satavahana empire of the Deccan ended with the death of Gautamiputra Yajna Sri Satakarni in 202 CE, the Abhiras seized the opportunity and founded their kingdom there; this kingdom according to Thosar lasted from 203 to 370 CE. The founder of the kingdom was Abhira Sivadatta, who was succeeded by Mathariputra Sakasena and Abhira Isvarasena, rose to the throne in 229 CE. He was succeeded by Abhira Vashishtriputra Vasusena (238 – 267 CE). Around 270 CE, the Abhiras seem to have lost their sovereign status due to the rise of the Traikutakas in western Deccan and the Ikshvakus in in the eastern Deccan. Thosar noted that this time period coincides with the sixty-seven years shown in most of the Purānas as the duration of Abhira rule. But some Abhira chiefs were able to continue as petty chiefs in the Khandesh-Vidharba region of Maharashtra and others in the region of Andhra for another century, up to about 370 CE, as an Abhira kingdom appears in an epigraphic inscription in Chandravalli and in the famous Allahabad Pillar praśasti of Samudragupta:

    (…) [Whose] formidable rule was propitiated with the payment of all tributes, execution of orders and visits [to his court] for obeisance by such frontier rulers as those of Samataṭa, Ḍavāka, Kāmarūpa, Nēpāla, and Kartṛipura, and, by the Mālavas, Ārjunāyanas, Yaudhēyas, Mādrakas, Ābhīras, Prārjunas, Sanakānīkas, Kākas, Kharaparikas and other [tribes].

    Thosar notes how once again, the date of 370 CE coincides with the second number that appears in the Purānas (in the Vayu Purāna) as the total length of Abhira rule: one hundred and sixty-seven years.

    The first serious scientific study in depth of the Paikuli inscription of the Sasanian Šāhān Šāh Narsē was published in the 1920s by the German scholar Ernst Herzfeld, and in this important study, Herzfeld noted that the names of several of the foreign kings and dignitaries named in it (either by opposing or helping Narsē against Bahrām III, or by congratulating him on his final victory) were Indian rulers. Herzfeld’s work was very influential in the field of Iranian studies and a model of scientific rigor, but it was flawed because in the 1920s the knowledge of Parthian and Middle Persian and especially of the inscriptional Pahlavi script was still very incomplete, and his reading of the text has been now discredited.

    But surprisingly, I’ve found that in historical works written by Indian scholars this reading is still supported. In 1971, the renowned epigraphist Dineshchandra Sircar wrote that the Paikuli inscription “appears to refer to several Indian rulers including the kings of the Surashtras, Avantis, Kushanas, Sakas and Abhiras”. H.S. Thosar also referred to an embassy from the Abhiras to Narsē appearing in the text of the Paikuli inscription, and this Indian presence in said inscription also reappears in more modern books and papers by Indian scholars.

    Suchandra Ghosh described in a paper which was the sort of trade that was conducted through the port of Barbarikon and probably also through the ports that succeeded it at the mouths of the Indus according both to the Periplus and Ptolemy and to archaeology, and his analysis suggests that ancient Sindh was clsely linked by trade with the Persian Gulf, and with the Arsacid and Sasanian empires, which could imply that the Sasanians would have had particularly good reasons to annex this territory and that such an annexation would have not damaged the economy of the territory. According to the Periplus, in Barbarikon:

    (…) there is a market for: clothing, with no adornment in good quantity, of printed fabric in limited quantity, multicoloured textiles, peridot, coral, storax, frankincense, glass ware and silver ware, money, wine, limited quantity. As return cargo it offers costus, bdellium, lykion, nard, turquoise, lapis lazuli, Chinese pelts, cloth and yarn, indigo.”

    The list of import and export items is a pointer to the growing demand for mostly exotic, luxury, and precious items at both ends of the trading network in the mid-I century CE, when the Periplus was written down. It is important too to notice that Barbarikon was exclusively a port and not a manufacturing or industrial center, as its items of import did not contain raw materials as in Barygaza (according to the Periplus). Thus, the nature of this port was different from Barygaza. Barbarikon was a terminus for transit trade as few of these products were local, and the river Indus served as a conduit of inter-regional trade.

    Indus-Basin.png

    Map of the Indus Basin.

    According to the Periplus, among the non-local products that Graeco-Roman traders could find at Barbarikon there was turquoise, known as Challeanos lithos. This corresponds with Pliny’s Callaina and Callais, which originated in the “hinterland beyond India”. Turquoise was actually brought to Barbarikon from the well-known mines near ancient Nišāpur in northeastern Iran (the city itself was founded, or perhaps re-founded by Šābuhr I as Nēv-Šābuhr), which agrees with Pliny’s “hinterland beyond India”. Though turquoise was also available in the Sinai Peninsula, eastern turquoise was of a superior quality and hence sought after in the Mediterranean world. The most natural trade route trade route for this item would have been from Nišāpur to Marv, then to Balḵ, then across the Hindu Kush to Kāpiśa, then down the Kabul River to Gandhāra and finally down the Indus to its mouth.

    Lapis lazuli was the Greek sappheiros whose only source in Antiquity was Badaḵšān in eastern Bactria. Shipments could go from Badaḵšān via Kāpiśa to Gandhāra and from there follow the Indus right down to its mouth. Therefore, the riverine linkage made Barbarikon a natural choice as point of export. It’s interesting to note that no turquoise has so far been found in the Egyptian Red Sea port of Berenike and only one small, unworked piece of lapis lazuli has been discovered there. From the nature of finds in Berenike it emerges that this port didn’t have any trading connection with Barbarikon. A study shows that only some gemstones have been found in Berenike; gemstones like turquoise and lapis lazuli, which are exclusive to Barbarikon, are absent from this site. However, a considerable number of cameo blanks imported from Barygaza have been found in Berenike. Herein comes the question of the trade route.

    Badakhshan-02.jpg

    The lapis lazuli mines of Sar-e Sang, in exploitation since Antiquity, are located at an altitude of 5,000 m in the province of Badaḵšān in northeastern Afghanistan.

    According to Ghosh, since Berenike was an Egyptian Red Sea emporium, it was not in direct contact with Barbarikon, which would have traded mainly with the ports of the Persian Gulf. Thus, products shipped from the Indus delta were not found in Berenike. Barygaza, though, was important to both trade routes. Some trade focused on products from local resources but in other cases, the cargo came from distant places, and according to Ghosh Barygaza combined both categories.

    The same trend with respect to the geographical provenance of the export items can be observed with the herbs that were found for sale at Barbarikon according to the Periplus. Costus (Saussurea costus; Sanskrit Kushtha), a medicinal herb, was brought from the “upper areas”, which could hint at its provenance to be from the upper Indus, probably the region in and around Kashmir.

    Nard (Nardostachys jatamansi) was one of the costliest of the plant products that the Mediterranean markets imported from India. It’s an herb that grows in the mountainous regions of the Himalaya and other major mountain ranges and was brought to Barbarikon from the interior. Section 38 of the Periplus mentions that nard came by way of Proklais, which most probably refers to ancient Puṣkalāvatī in Gandhāra, and also from “the adjacent part of Scythia”, which could refer to the neighboring mountainous areas of what’s today eastern Baluchistan.

    Kashmir.jpg

    Both Costus and Nard are mountain herbs, and one of its main sources is Kashmir, still in current times.

    Silk cloth and yarn which came from China were also available at Barbarikon, which acted as a point of distribution for Chinese silk; section 39 of the Periplus refers to “Chinese pelts” as merchandise for the return cargo. Later, in section 64 it is also said that from Thina (i.e. China), silk floss and yarn were shipped via Bactria to Barygaza. In the same way it might have come to this city by the Indus.

    The Periplus also states that Mediterranean products were sold at Barbarikon by Graeco-Roman traders: common products like cloth and wine, and luxury items like peridot gemstones and Mediterranean coral. Ghosh wrote in his paper that Barbarikon was probably the port through which Roman products reached Taxila, Gandhāra and Kāpiśa (like for example the items in the Begrām hoard).

    The anonymous author of the Periplus refers to the mouth of the Indus after taking a cursory look at the Persian Gulf, which has suggested to some historians he was not very familiar with the Sinus Persicus, noting only the existence of the two significant ports of Apologos and Omana. These two sites represented according to Ghosh the two most important staging points within the Sinus Persicus along a route that began at Palmyra and ended in India between the I and III centuries CE. According to the II century CE author Appian of Alexandria, the Palmyrenes:

    Being merchants, they bring the products of India and Arabia from Persia and dispose of them in the Roman territory.

    But there’s no evidence, either in written sources or in archaeology, that Palmyrene merchants ever travelled across the Iranian Plateau to Central Asia and beyond. Instead, all these sources indicate that Palmyrene merchants traded with India across the Persian Gulf, via the port of Spasinou Charax in Characene (also known to Greeks and Romans as Mesene, the region that the Sasanians would later call Mešan). A very particularly shaped piece of ceramics has been found at excavations in Begrām and also in several digs in the United Arab Emirates and Bahrain. as for epigraphic evidence, Ghosh recalls two Palmyrene inscriptions honoring a prominent merchant named “Marcus Ulpius Iarhai, son of Hairan, son of Abgar”.

    The first one is dedicated to him by:

    (…) the merchants who have returned from Scythia on the ship of Honainu son of Haddudan, son of … in the year 468 (of the Seleucid era, corresponding to 157 CE).

    The second one is dated two years later, and it was an expression of gratitude from caravan traders for the help they received, and for the safe journey of the caravan

    (…) which has come from Spasinou Charax.

    Damascus-National-Museum-Hypogeum-of-Yarhai.jpg

    Apart from the two inscriptions quoted above, Marcus Ulpius Iarhai is known for his spectacular underground tomb (hipogeum) in Palmyra, which is today in the National Museum in Damascus. This is a detail view of the hypogeum.

    To Ghosh, Barbarikon’s preference for the Persian Gulf route could be understood by considering that already by the late I century CE sailing along the Red Sea route to reach the eastern Mediterranean had become more popular than the Persian Gulf route, as the Malabar Coast had emerged as the main point of contact with the Red Sea ports. Therefore, it would have been important for ships from Barbarikon to explore the Persian Gulf, which was well connected to the lower Indus area. A passage by the Elder speaks of the distance between the Caspian Gates (a pass in the Alborz mountains, probably Tang-e Sar-e Darra, 82 km) east of Rayy in northern Iran) and Patala (a city in the Indus delta; hence the name Patalene given by the Greeks to Sindh), thereby suggesting that routes from the Caspian Gates ran into the lower Indus area. From the lower Indus it was possible to pass into Arachosia following the great highway, mentioned by Pliny, through the Bolān Pass or the Mula Pass. Pliny in fact refers to a great overland route connecting Seleucia (in Mesopotamia) with several places, that included the Caspian Gates, Alexandria of Aria (Herat), the city of Drangae (modern Zarang, in Sīstān), the “town of Arachosia” (probably modern Qandahār, in southern Afghanistan), Hortospana (in the Kabul valley), Peucalaotis (Puṣkalāvatī), Taxila, and other cities.

    These close links between the ports of Sindh and the Persian Guklf and lower Mesopotamia made the mouths of the Indus an obvious target for Sasanian expansionism, especially if we consider the policies systematically pursued by the two first Sasanian kings. Ardaxšir I and Šābuhr I secured control over both sides of the Persian Gulf by annexing the Arabian coast of the Gulf (or at least stationing garrisons and forts there) and dismantled the trade networks in the Gulf and lower Mesopotamia that the Arab traders from Hatra and Palmyra had built in these areas during Arsacid rule; instead they built a whole new commercial and manufacturing network centered in the newly founded šahrestāns (royal cities) in Asōrestān and especially in Xuzestān. This policy was strengthened by the building new ports or the enlarging of already existing ones in the Persian Gulf, in Mešan, Xuzestān and Pārs.This policy took the lucrative trade with India away from the control of “foreign” merchants and handed it to traders who were Sasanian subjects and who resided in royal cities under close surveillance and control of royal functionaries. In other words, they were enacting what would be centuries later called a mercantilist policy, aimed at strengthening the tax income base available to the Šāhān Šāhs. And this was a long-term policy that would be pursued by all Sasanian kings, right up to the end of the empire.

    The Indus delta was one of the ends of this trade, and by controlling it the Sasanian kings would put the whole network under a strict royal control; only the southern Indian ports would lie out of their reach. Šābuhr II followed in the steps of his ancestors, as his brutal Arabian campaign shows; it restored Sasanian control over the Arabian side of the Gulf and secured it for almost three centuries until the rise of Islam.
     
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    7.6 BALUCHISTAN.
  • 7.6 BALUCHISTAN.

    I will deal in this post with the provinces/kingdoms listed in the ŠKZ as Pāradān, Makurān and Tūrestān/Tūrān, which correspond roughly to what classical authors called Gedrosia, and which today is the region of Baluchistan, divided between the modern states of Pakistan, Iran and Afghanistan.

    In a broader sense, Baluchistan is today a large land area divided within Pakistan (most of it), Iran (within the province of Sīstān and Baluchistan) and Afghanistan. In a narrower sense, Baluchistan is also the name of one of the four provinces of Pakistan; it’s situated in the southwest of this country, covering an area of 347,190 km2. It is Pakistan's largest province by area, constituting 44% of Pakistan's total land mass. The province is bordered by Afghanistan to the north and north-west, Iran to the south-west, and the other Pakistani provinces of Punjab, Sindh, Khyber Pakhtunkhwa and the Federally Administered Tribal Areas to the north-east; to the south lies the Arabian Sea.

    Baluchistan is located on the south-eastern part of the Iranian plateau. In the northwest, the Baluchistan Plateau is mostly just a continuation of the Qandahār Plateau to its north, separated from it by the Chagai Hills. Throughout the rest of Baluchistan, the topography is extremely broken and mountainous, varying in altitude from 1,500-2,000 m (the steppe on the edge of the Iranian plateau, at the base of mountains) to over 3,500 m in the north and northeast and to sea level on the coastal plain. In the part that is now southwestern Afghanistan, and here and there in the 500 km-wide zone between the Afghan border with Pakistan and the coast, the land opens out into vast expanses of featureless semidesert and desert. Temperatures are continental in the highlands with bitterly cold winters and extreme diurnal and seasonal ranges; the lowlands and coastal areas are subtropical. Extremes of summer heat (with high humidity during the monsoon) occur at low altitudes away from the coast in the Kacchi-Sibi plain and the larger Makrān valleys. High winds are also regularly recorded, related similar phenomena happen in neighboring Sīstān. The coastal plain is known as Makrān and corresponds with the province/kingdom of Makurān listed in the ŠKZ.

    Baluchistan-Physical-Map-01.jpg

    Balochistan-districts.jpg

    This post will be quite heavy with geographical descriptions, and I find indispensable to be able to look at maps to avoid getting completely lost; so here you have physical and administrative maps of Pakistani Baluchistan.

    Rainfall varies mainly according to altitude. It’s characteritzed by extreme irregularity; though rare in summer on the Iranian plateau, it may come at any season, but then it may also fail altogether for several years in a row, especially at the lower altitudes. The highlands and high mountains to the east and northeast get up to 400 mm or rain per year, even more in places on the eastern escarpment, while most of the rest of the territory sees an average of 100 mm per year or less, although averages are misleading because of wide annual fluctuations. Rain falls mostly in winter (as snow at high altitudes). The monsoon brings summer humidity and occasionally significant (even torrential) rain to the coast and lowlands. Sometimes, such weather edges up the escarpments and marginally affects the Iranian plateau. As stated before, occasional summer rains can be torrential and in the mountains flash floods may cause sensational damage (as it happened to Alexander’s army when it was crossing this land during his retreat from India). Heavy rain turns the clay soils of the coastal plain into a morass of sticky mud, impassible for human, animal, or motorized traffic until it dries out, possibly for as much as a week. In the southern mountains some rivers flow continuously for stretches; elsewhere occasional pools might last till the next flood; scattered pools provide a trickle of water to irrigate small orchards for nomadic or semi-nomadic communities. Although water is scarce everywhere and only in a few cases perennial all year-long, in the mountains the lack of good soil is the limiting factor for agriculture. On the other hand, in the coastal plain of Makrān the soil is often good but there is very little water except from rain or runoff, and the ports have no reliable water supply.

    The Baluch people have never developed an urban way of life, and though many now live in towns, these towns are essentially non-Baluch (Iranian or Pakistani) in character. Since the medieval period, both before and since the Baluch became dominant (roughly between the XII-XV centuries CE), up to the beginning of modern development, agricultural settlement has been dependent on the protection of rulers who lived in forts, with a few traders clustered around them. Traditionally the cultural center of gravity of Baluch life resided among the nomads who controlled the vast areas between the settlements.

    Sistan-va-Balochestan-Physical.jpg

    Sistan-and-Baluchestan-admin.png

    And the same for the Iranian province of Baluchistan and Sistan.

    Given the complicated topography of Baluchistan, describing the territory is no easy task. I’ll try to do so now in a rough west to east order. Keep in mind that in most cases when I write “valley” or “river” I mean something akin to what’s called wādī in Arabic-speakiong countries: dry riverbeds that carry water only after rains. There are not many rivers in this land that carry water all year round.

    The name Sarḥadd came into use in the medieval period to designate the southern “borderlands” of Sīstān; today it’s included entirely within the Iranian province of Sīstān and Baluchistan. It’s a high plateau, averaging 1,500-2,000 m in altitude and dominated by the two volcanic massifs of Kūh-e Taftān (4,042 m) and Kūh-e Bazmān (3,489 m). Its historical boundaries were not strictly defined, and usage of the term has varied according to fluctuations in local political circumstances. The Sarḥadd Plateau is characterized by cold winters and moderate summers, with precipitation concentrated in the winters, as snow on the higher ground. There are large areas of sand on either side of the border with Afghanistan. Apart from the general steppe vegetation, there are small forested patches, especially between Ḵāš and Gošt, and juniper trees in the mountains. The area is characterized too by isolated hills and depressions that function as internal drainage basins. The larger depressions, called hāmūn, are generally saline; the smaller ones are called navār, and sometimes they can contain sweet water lakes. There are traces of old bands (dams) on the plain southwest of Kūh-e Taftān and elsewhere, but their datation is uncertain. The only significant agricultural settlement of any antiquity is Ḵāš, which lies to the south of Taftān, and a few old villages that are nestled at the foot of the mountains, mainly on their eastern side. Ḵāš depends for irrigation on underground qanāts, of unknown antiquity. There are also a few qanāts across the border in Chagai, in Pakistani Baluchistan.

    Kuh-e-Bazman.jpg

    Kūh-e Bazmān, the only active volcano in Iran.

    East of the border between Iran and Pakistan, the hāmūn of the Māškīd river lies on the southwestern side of a large depression of some 39,000 km2 that is geographically an extension of the Sarḥadd. It is mostly desert and includes a large area of sand dunes on the southern side. It is bounded on the north by the mountain range of Raʾskoh which divides it from Chagai, and on the south by the Siahan mountain range which separates it from Panjgur and Makrān. Downstream from the town of Kharan there’s some scattered forested patches around the river, which has supported annual cultivation. A number of massive stone dams of unknown antiquity, now known in the archeological literature as gabar-bands, appear to have supported terraced fields in the hills bordering the main depression.

    South of the Kūh-e Taftān massif in Iran, the Sarḥadd plateau drops away to below 1,000 m along the valley of the Māškīd river and its tributaries, along which lay the districts of Sarāvān (in Iran) and Panjgur (in Pakistan), before it turns back north past the Pakistani border towards Kharan. Nowadays, the river carries water only after rains; otherwise it’s a dry bed. Vegetation is transitional, with elements from both the temperate plateau and the subtropical south. Still within Iran, Kūh-e Berg, a narrow 2,500 m mountain ridge which runs 150 km northwest to southeast, separates the valley of the Māškīd river from the Jāz Mūrīān depression to the west. East of the Kūh-e Berg, the Māškīd valley and another valley parallel to it countain several old agricultural settlements (Paskūh, Sūrān and Sīb in the first, and Gošt, Šastūn and Dezak in the second). Other old settlements lie farther downstream and in the mountains on either side. Bampošt, which is one of the major areas of mountain nomadism and seasonal āp-band farming, lies to the south of the Māškīd. These districts have depended historically upon qanāts and settled populations have probably predominated over nomads throughout the historical period.

    In the Pakistani district of Panjgur, which is the continuation of the Māškīd valley across the Pakistani border, settlement is scarcer. The Raḵšān river (a tributary of the Māškīd) has a course of over 240 km, but from Nāg at the northeastern end of the valley down to the confluence with the Māškīd close to the Iranian border it supports traditional irrigation (either directly or by qanāt) only around the town of Panjgur itself.

    Nag-Rakhshan.jpg

    The Raḵšān riverbed near Nāg.

    The districts of Zhob, Loralai, Pishin and Quetta in the northeast (all within Pakistan) are based on river valleys that drain out of the mountains around Quetta, which include two peaks over 3,400 m. Until two hundred years ago these areas had been politically more closely related to Qandahār (in southern Afghanistan) than Kalat (in Pakistani Baluchistan), and they only became politically separated from Qandahār as a result of the separation of the Khanate of Kalat from the emirate of Afghanistan in the XVIII century, and the subsequent support that the British offered to the Khans of Kalat during the XIX and XX centuries. Except for Loralai, these districts were never settled by Baloch tribes and their population remains ethnically Pashtun or Brahui to this day. Although these districts enjoy relatively high rainfall, their population has remained mainly pastoral until the commercial development of fruit growing in recent times. Important areas of forest survive in the mountains, especially of juniper tree between 2,000-3,000 m.

    Hanna-Lake-Quetta-02.jpg

    The Hanna Lake near Quetta in winter.

    South of Quetta, a tongue of highland and mountain (the Kirthar mountain range) extends almost to the coast, dividing the lower Indus valley from Makrān. The main rivers in this area are the Hingol, Porali, Baddo, and Hab. This was the land known by medieval Muslim geographers as Tūrān (confusingly, Tūrān in Sasanian times had also another geographical meaning that had abosulutely nothing to do with this Tūrān in Baluchistan; I will return to this issue in later posts), divided in turn in two sub-areas, known as Sarawan and Jahlawan. Sarawan is literally the “above-land” and Jahlawan is the “(be)low-land”, but the terms derive not from the topography but from the two divisions of the largely Brahui-speaking tribal confederation living there. Kalat is the main seat of Sarawan and Quzdār that of Jahlawan. Although these districts have slightly higher rainfall than most of Baluchistan south and west of Quetta, their population has remained mostly pastoral and nomadic until recent times.

    Moola-Chotuk-ravine-Khuzdar.jpg

    The Moola Chotuk ravine near Quzdār.

    East of Sarawan and Jahlawan the terrain drops almost to sea level within some 20 km. This is the piedmont plain of Kacchi; although today it belongs to the Pakistani province of Baluchistan, geographically it’s part of the plain of Sindh. The plain of Kacchi covers about 2,000 km2, sloping from an elevation of about 150 m at Sibi in the north to 50 m at Jacobabad in the south. Since the construction of a canal carrying water from the Indus in the 1930s the southern part has become the most productive agricultural part of Baluchistan. Cultivation in Kacchi depends on harnessing the floods that arrive in July and August from the monsoon on the hills, as the plain receives less than 100 mm of rain per year. The main rivers here are the Bolān and the Nari.

    Kirthar-Mountains-01.jpg

    View of the Kirthar mountains that separate Baluchistan from Sindh.

    The discharge of rivers after seasonal rains in the agricultural lands of Sibi, Kacchi, Las Bela and Bāhū (in eastern Baluchistan), as well as in Bampūr (in the Sarḥadd) was traditionally managed in the same way (though on a smaller scale than) as the discharge of the Helmand into the delta lands of Sīstān, with the annual rebuilding of the barrages (band means barrage in Farsī, and this sort of irrigated agriculture is known as āp-band farming). This was traditionally the most important event of the year, using all available labor, under the control of a leader for every village appointed directly by higher political authority in the land. The local population built huge embankments across the dry riverbeds to catch and divert the torrential floods. As the fields were flooded, they broke one dam and let the water rush down to the next. The Nari used to have more than fifteen such dams. Most of them required repair or reconstruction during winter, for which the labor wass provided by the nomads, who also provided the labor for harvesting.

    South of the northeastern mountain district of Loralai, an isolated area of hill country extends southward to the banks of the Indus, bounded on the east by the southern end of the Sulaiman range. These are the Marī-Bugti hills, called after the tribes (the Marī tribes, a Baluch people) that have inhabited in this area with a considerable degree of autonomy into the modern period. They consist chiefly of narrow parallel ridges of closely packed hills, which form the gradual descent from the Sulaiman highlands into the Sindh plain, intersected by numerous ravines. These lands are generally barren and inhospitable, but there are good scattered patches of grazing, and a few valleys which have been brought under cultivation.

    Loralai-to-Quetta.jpg

    A road in the highlands between Loralai and Quetta in northeastern Baluchistan.

    Back to the northwest, in Iranian Baluchistan the historical boundary between Baluchistan and the province of Kermān to the west is a vague no-man’s land around the Jāz Mūrīān depression. The Jāz Mūrīān itself is a large hāmūn, about 300 km long and with an area of 70,000 km2, into which the Bampūr river drains from the east and the Halīlrūd river from the west. A low range separates it from Narmāšīr and the Dašt-e Lūt desert to the north. A large area of dunes hinders communication on the southeast side. Most of the remaining land of the depression, except for a varying amount of shallow water in the center, is flat desert, with high summer temperatures, but which offered an open and easy passage westward to Kermān in the winter. There’s a scattering of rich agricultural villages around Īrānšahr and Bampūr that depends partly on qanāts and partly on a dam above Bampūr; this town was before the XX century the capital of Iranian Baluchistan.

    Jaz-Murian.jpg

    Aerial view of the Jāz Mūrīān depression in Iran (medium altutud: only 350 m over sea level).

    South of the Jāz Mūrīān depression and the Māškīd valley the Makrān mountains extend in a 150-220 km wide zone from Bašākerd in Iran to Mashkai in Pakistan. There is a number of parallel east-west ranges and valleys that resemble steps from the Iranian plateau down to the coast. They are rugged and difficult to traverse, though the peaks rarely exceed 2,000 m. The most important rivers are the Jāgīn, Gabrīg, Sadēč, Rāpč, Sarbāz, Kech, and its tributary Nahang. The western rivers cut through the mountains in deep gorges, of which Sarbāz is the most spectacular. In the east the major river is the Kech, which runs 150 km in a westward direction between two ranges before joining the Nahang and turning south through a gap to the sea. As in most of Baluchistan, rainfall is scanty and irregular, and summer temperatures are high, but the monsoon brings humidity and occasional rain that reduces the temperature and brings the vegetation back to life. The Makrān mountains are inhabited by Baluch nomadic pastoralists. Natural vegetation is sparse, and the inhabitants divide their time between taking care of their herds and āp-band farming. Wherever valleys open out and contain soil but no water, a band is built round a terrace of good alluvial soil to catch occasional rain, or water channeled from the river after a flood. The few permanent settlements are small and are built near the rivers. Most are situated in the bends of river valleys or where a river issues onto desert plains. There are over 50 such villages on the Sarbāz river, and an almost continuous string of oases lining the banks of the Kech river with fields irrigated from both qanats and cuts taking water off from large pools in the river bed. The areas of Tump and Mand enjoy similar conditions. Kolwa is a 130-km natural continuation of the Kech valley to the east separated by an almost imperceptible watershed which contains the greatest dry crop area of the Makrān. The Dasht valley carries the united Kech-Nahang rivers through the coastal range to the sea, with irrigated field on its banks. The Buleda valley north of Turbat has some agriculture, as do some spring-irrigated areas in the Zamuran hills north of the Nahang river. Otherwise, apart from Parom and Balgattar which are saline flats, Makrān supports only pastoralism.

    Sarbaz.jpg

    View of the Sarbāz river in Iranian Baluchistan. As a curiosity: this river is the only place in Iran where a population of crocodiles lives in the wild.

    The coastal plain varies in width from almost zero to as much as 100 km in Daštīārī in Iran and more in Las Bela (in Pakistan), with no reliable supplies of fresh water. The coastline is deeply indented with bays, whith good deep-water anchorages only at Čāhbahār (in Iran) and Gwadār in Pakistan, other ports are only small fishing villages. In the west, the plain is mostly low and swampy or sandy, but farther east there are hills near the coast and headlands. At their seaward base some of them have deteriorated into badlands and are difficult to traverse. The main rivers, which flow only after a heavy rain, pass between the sandstone massifs, providing the only passages inland. The soil in Daštīārī and Las Bela, like Kacchi and some parts of Makrān such as Parom and along the Dasht river, has unusual moisture-retaining capability; after one good rain it can hold water long enough to obtain a reasonably good crop of cereal. In both Daštīārī and Las Bela dams were built seasonally from earth and trees, as in the Kacchi plain. Small fishing communities of Mēd people lived scattered along the beaches, while along the plain there were mobile villages and camps of Baluch people who are mainly pastoral but carry on some farming after rains. All these populations have traditionally depended on rain and rain-filled ponds as the only source of fresh water.

    Makran-03.jpg

    Aerial view of the coastal highway of Makrān in Pakistan.

    Since the middle of the first millennium BCE what’s called today as “Baluchistan” was divided into provinces of the successive Iranian empires. Maka and Zranka appear in the inscriptions of Darius I the Great at Bīsotūn and Persepolis. In these inscriptions, Maka is almost for sure the same as modern Makrān (the southern half of Baluchistan), and Zranka (evolved into New Persian Zarang), the Zarangai of Herodotus, Drangiane of Arrian, etc., is the equivalent of modern Sīstān, which appears (then and later) to have included most of the northern parts of the area and sometimes even to have extended into Makrān. More specific information is provided by Greek authors who began to be interested in the lands around the Persian Gulf as a result of the Persian wars (as was the case with Herodotus). Alexander the Great’s conquest of the Achaemenid empire in the IV century BCE generated more detailed writing. This was further encouraged by commercial interest in the sources of various luxury commodities, mainly spices and dyestuffs, which were already reaching the eastern Mediterranean from the Indian Ocean.

    Makurān appears as a province in the ŠKZ, and in the Paikuli inscription the king of Makurān is named as one of the kings who congratulated Narsē on his accession to the throne of Ērānšahr. The SKZ hints at Tūrestān, and Hindestān being subordinated to Sakastān/Sagestān, as in the text Narsē is called “king of Sakastān, Tūrestān and Hindestān all the way to the sea” meaning that probably his domain included all of modern Sīstān, Baluchistan, Sindh and parts of southern Afghanistan, stretching across three modern countries (Iran, Afghanistan and Pakistan, all the way to the Indian border).

    Of these territories, the borders of Sakastān and Makurān seem to be relatively clear. The problems arise with the location of the other two provinces in the area: Pāradān and Tūrestān. I will explain here the more traditional view about the issue, and then I will proceed to start writing about Pāradān and exposing the views of numismatist Professor Pankaj Tandon in his paper The location and kings of Pāradān, which personally I find more plausible for reasons that I will explain later.

    Tandon noted that the ŠKZ inscription seems to follow a general pattern of naming the provinces roughly from west to east in a logical geographic order; this assessment is reinforced by the fact that this is exactly the same order in which the Avesta names the lands of the Aryans. The provinces of Kermān and Sakastān are listed together before Pāradān is mentioned; we know for sure that those two territories are located in what is now eastern Iran, and that would imply that Pāradān is further east. Further, Hindestān, which is also further east, is mentioned later than Pāradān and to most scholars, this is quite clearly intended to refer to the Indus valley, including parts of modern-day Sindh and even southern Punjab. Since Pāradān is listed before Hindestān, it must be west of the Indus valley. There are in fact three kingdoms mentioned in between the two “bookends” (Sakastān and Hindestān): Tūrestān, Makurān and Pāradān, in that order. All these three kingdoms must lie therefore in the general area of modern-day Baluchistan. The location of Makurān, taken to be the Makrān coastal plain, has seemed fairly certain. That leaves Tūrestān and Pāradān. Most scholars located Pāradān west of Tūrestān, thus going against what seems to be a logical arrangement of the provinces/kingdoms in the ŠKZ. The main reason for this tendency has been probably Claudius Ptolemy’s assertion that Paradene occupied the interior of Gedrosia and the assumption by such scholars that the ancient city of Pura (modern Bampūr, in Iran), which had been an important town in the time of Alexander, must have been the center of the area (Paradene) to which Ptolemy was referring, due to the similarity between the two names.

    Bampur.jpg

    View of the ruined fort in Bampūr, Iran.

    To Tandon, the logical solution to this conundrum is to locate Tūrestān, not Pāradān, to the immediate east of Kirmān and Sakastān, with Pāradān further to the east and Makurān running south of both Tūrestān and Pāradān, thereby being contiguous to both. The province-list of “Kermān, Sakastān, Tūrestān, Makurān, Pāradān and Hindestān” would then satisfy a principle of geographic contiguity that each kingdom is contiguous to each of the kingdoms named before and after it in Šābuhr I’s list. Tūrestān could be located quite far to the west, roughly in the area of today’s Iran-Pakistan border or perhaps including much of the western part of today’s Pakistani Baluchistan. Or it could stretch a little further to the east and include the area around Kalat.

    A reason to locate Tūrestān/Tūrān in the Kalat area is the identification of Tūrān with Quzdār (just south of modern Kalat) in the anonymous X century CE Middle Persian geographical treaty Ḥudūd al-ʿĀlam. If this identification is correct, it would force Pāradān into a smaller area further east. Pāradān could be located in the area around Loralai, perhaps extending as far west as Quetta and even Qandahār and extending north-east towards Zhob and even towards the Indus river. This would be a large area, would be consistent with the numismatic evidence and also would seem logically plausible given Šābuhr I’s list. But to Tandon, the identification of Tūrestān/Tūrān with Quzdār may not be accurate for the early Sasanian period in any case. The Ḥudūd al-ʿĀlam was written only in the late X century CE and it’s possible that the tribes inhabiting Tūrestān/Tūrān in the II and III centuries CE were driven further east over the next five or six centuries. Thus, to Tandon it seems quite plausible also to locate Tūrestān/Tūrān in the area of eastern Iranian Baluchistan and western Pakistani Baluchistan and for Pāradān to stretch somewhat towards the Iranian border.

    Karakuli-Loralai.jpg

    The Karakul mountain in Loralai district, Pakistan.

    In the early Islamic era, the whole of Baluchistan (except for the northeastern mountain areas) was designated by Muslim geographers and other authors only by the names of Makrān (if referring to the coast) or Tūrān (if referring to the rugged interior), so the identification of earlier, Sasanian Tūrestān/Tūrān with the later Islamic territory of Tūrān, centered around Quzdār (in eastern Baluchistan). Despite Tandon’s misgivings, for lack of better alternatives from Sasanian times (either written or archaeological) the only thing that can be said about this Sasanian province is to identify it with the later Islamic territory of the same name. What seems clear is that Tūrestān/Tūrān didn’t have its own dynasty under Sasanian rule; none of the written sources say so, and no particular coinage attributable to any kings of Tūrān has been found.

    In 1927-8, the renowned archaeologist Sir Aurel Stein excavated the remains of a Buddhist site at Tor Dherai in the Loralai district of what is now Pakistan. He recovered some pottery fragments with inked lettering on them, in in Kharoṣṭhī and Brāhmī scripts. Upon examination, the Kharoṣṭhī legend could be reconstructed and read; it was a dedication from a certain Yolamira, a name until then unknown to scholars. This name would later reappear on coins, as the first Pāratarāja who issued coins, according to Tandon’s reconstructed chronology. There are as well some very inconclusive inklings that their rule could have extended westwards across Baluchistan as far away as the modern Pakistani-Iranian border (mainly due to unconfirmed reports of Pārata coins having been recovered in the area).

    Practically everything that is known about the Pāratarājas, Pāratas or Pāradas comes from numismatics, and very scarce mentions in Greek, Indian and Middle Persian sources (like the SKZ). The current state of historical knowledge about this land is that the Pāratas were an Iranian tribe that migrated in a southeastern direction over time, ending in what today is the northern part of Pakistani Baluchistan, in what looks like a precedent of what would happen centuries later with the Baluch tribes. The Baluch tribes moves into what’s today Baluchistan from the neighboring Iranian regions of Kermān between the XII and XV centuries CE, and Baluchi is a northwestern Iranian language related to Kurdish that’s geographically “out of place” in this region, so it’s been thought by quite a long time that the Baluch might also have originated in the western or northwestern parts of the Iranian Plateau, just as it seems to have been the case with the Pāratas.

    Most of the coins issued by the Pāratarājas have been found in the Loralai district, 150 km to the east of Quetta. Other than the above speculations, scholars have no idea of which the exact borders of Pārata territory were; it’s possible that they extended enough to the south to include the Bolān Pass, which would give them control over an important trade route. This was the main pass that allowed passage between the lower Indus valley and ancient Arachosia (the area of Qandahār in southern Afghanistan). Historically, after the northern route via Kabul and Peshawar, the other great trade route to India ran from Qandahār to Quetta, and east of Quetta it could cross the mountain ranges that ran in a north-south direction in this area of estern Baluchistan (the Central Brahui and Kirthar ranges). The Bolān Pass is located closer to Quetta; it crosses the Central Brahui range and leads directly to Sibi and from there either east to Multan in southern Punjab or southeast to Jacobabad in Sindh. The second alternative route leads south from Quetta to Quzdār passing through Kalat and from Quzdār it crosses the Mulā Pass acrossthe Kirthar range, leading directly to Sukkur and Khaipur on the Indus in Sindh.

    Parataraja-Kozana.jpg

    Silver hemidrachm of the Pāratarāja Kozana.

    Probable mentions to the Pāratas in ancient sources have allowed scholars to reconstruct the possible migration of this people. Herodotus and Strabo mentioned the Paraitakenoi and the Paraitakai (respectively) as one of the tribes ruled by the Median king Deiokes, in northwestern Iran during the VII century BCE. The next mention in chronological order is by Arrian, who mentioned that Alexander the Great met the Pareitakai in Bactria and Sogdia and had to send his general Krateros to subdue them. Following the chronological sequence, then Strabo mentions again the Paraitakenoi in the late III century CE as “subjected to the Parthians”, who by then had just entered to northeastern corner of the Iranian Plateau. The next mention is also by Strabo, who wrote that the Paraitakenoi were amongst the “barbarians” who killed the Seleucid king Antiochus III the Great in 187 BCE when he tried to raid a temple of Bel in Elymais (Greek name for ancient Elam, modern Iranian Khuzestan). No other mentions appear in the historical record until the Augustan era, when Isidore of Charax named the area beyond Sakastene (Sīstān) as Paraitakene. Thus, either Sīstān or modern Baluchistan seems to have become the territory of the Pāratas by this time. The next author to name them is Pliny the Elder, who located the territory of the Paraetaceni between the Parthi and the Ariani, meaning that the Pāratas seem at this time (third quarter of the I century CE) to be located somewhere on the borders of modern Afghanistan and Iran, in the Herat area. The anonymous author of the Periplus of the Erythraean Sea located the territory of the Paradon beyond the Ommanitic region, that is, on the coast of modern Baluchistan. And then Claudius Ptolemy in the II century CE named the interior of Gedrosia as Paradene, thus placing the Pāratas in the interior of Baluchistan, and referred to a town named Paradabathra on the west bank of the Indus river.

    The next mention is the ŠKZ, which mentions Pāradān as one of the provinces of the empire, between Makurān and Hindustān, which logically puts it in eastern Baluchistan. The Pārata king is not named by Tabarī as one of the rulers who submitted to Ardaxšir I, so it could be that Šābuhr I may have been the one to subjugate the Pāratas. Then in the Paikuli inscription of Narsē (late III century CE), the Pāradān Šāh is listed as one of the kings who congratulated Narsē on his defeat of Bahrām III.

    Parataraja-Yolamira.jpg

    Silver coin of the Pāratarāja Yolamira.

    The Pāratas are also named in Indian sources, but these sources are much more difficult to place chronologically than Greek, Roman or Middle Persian ones. Among these sources, the one that gives the more detailed account is the Mahābhārata, the great Sanskrit epic which includes several references to the Pāratas as a foreign people “beyond the Sindhu”, that is, which dwelled to the west of the river Indus. All these references to the Pāratas were compiled by the Indian scholar B.N. Mukherjee in 1972. Since then, numismatics has allowed to shed a bit more of light on this obscure subject.

    The coins issued by the Pāratarājas show a mix of Iranian and Indian features:
    • They are remarkably similar to those issued by the early Arsacid kings, and this has been connected by numismatist Pankaj Tandon to the mention by Strabo that the Pāratas had been subjected to the Parthians during the late III century BCE.
    • Tandon also noticed the similarities with the coins issued by the Indo-Parthian kings in Sakastān, bhe strongest similarities that Tandon detected though are with the coinage of the Western Kshatrapas. In this case, the similarities are not limited to the weight standards, but also to the overall design. And the most important feature of all: the legends of the coins of the Western Kshatrapas use patronymics when naming the kings (an immensely useful practice for numismatists and historians), something that is completely absent from Arsacid coinage, and extremely rare in Indo-Parthian and Kushan coins.
    • Some of the symbology displayed in the coins of the Pāratarājas is clearly of Indian origin, for example the use of the swastika, which was displayed in the city coinage of Puṣkalāvatī and Taxila, in Mauryan coinage, in late Kushan coins and the coinage issued by some minor northern Indian dynasties. The language of the legends on the coins is also a Prakrit dialect, written in Kharoṣṭhī and Brāhmī scripts. The title of rāja displayed on the coins is also an Indian title, although in the pottery fragments found at the remains of the vihāra of Tor Dherai Yolamira used the Iranian title šāhi, commonly used by the Indo-Scythians and Western Kshatrapas.
    • Although the names of the kings are written down in Sanskrit and are thus heavily Indianized, they are Iranian names, displaying in many cases the name of the Iranian god Mithra (Mihr in Middle Persian) like Yolamira, Hvaramira or Miratakhma, although two purely Indian names appear among the Iranian ones, Arjuna and Bhimarjuna.
    Not much else can be said about the matter. If Šābuhr I subjected the Pāratas to his rule (as stated by the ŠKZ) it seems that they kept their own kings, as the Paikuli inscription makes clear. Lacking any other information about the subject, it seems that the Sasanians were still ruling the area under Šābuhr II, although this territory seems to have remained out of the lands ruled by the Kušān Šāhs if we are to follow the text of the ŠKZ. The succession of Pāratarājas who issued coins has been reconstructed by Tandon as follows:
    • Yolamira, son of Bagareva, ca. 125-150.
    • Bagamira, son of Yolamira, ca. 150.
    • Arjuna, son of Yolamira, ca. 150-165.
    • Hvaramira, son of Yolamira, ca. 165-175.
    • Mirahvara, son of Hvaramira, ca. 175-185.
    • Miratakhma, son of Hvaramira, ca. 185-200.
    • Kozana, son of Bagavharna, ca. 200-220.
    • Bhimarjuna, son of Yolatakhma, ca. 220-230.
    • Koziya, son of Kozana, ca. 230-265.
    • Datarvharna, son of Datayola I, ca. 265-285.
    • Datayola II, son of Datarvharna, ca. 285-300.
    According to Tandon, no Pāratarājas issued coins after ca. 300 CE, which could perhaps mean that their kingdom became a Sasanian province, or maybe that the Sasanian Šāhān Šāhs removed the right to issue coinage from them, following the well-recorded historical trend within the Sasanian empire towards greater centralization and the extinction of sub-kings. Further confirmation to the closing date of Tandon’s chronology comes from the recent finding of two coins of Datayola II that are overstrikes of coins issued by Hormizd 1 Kušān Šāh, who reigned during the last decade of the III century CE.

    The Paikuli inscription states that among the kings that congratulated Narsē when he rose to the throne of Ērānšahr there was a “king of Makurān”. But neither Narsē himself in the ŠKZ nor Šābuhr II’s brother Šābuhr Sakān Šāh in the ŠPs-I are named as being kings of Makurān, even if this kingdom was almost completely engulfed by their possessions in the adjoining territories of Tūrān, Hindestān and Sakastān. This means that, like in the case of Pāradān, Makurān continued to be ruled by its own native dynasty. According to medieval Islamic sources, Makrān extended from the port of Čāh-bahār in Iran to “near Daybul”, thus covering the entire coastline of Baluchistan. Ports are very scarce in this long stretch of coast; apart from Čāh-bahār the only other natural port is Gwādar in Pakistani Baluchistan.

    The pre-islamic history of Makrān is almost completely unknown. The only ancient sources dealing with these territories are the Greek accounts of the retreat of Alexander’s army from India, and to it we could add some limited archaeological research done there by Iranian, Pakistani and French archaeologists in the last fifty years. Makrān first appears in Sumerian and Babylonian records as Magan, a land beyond the lower Persian Gulf that had trade connections with lower Mesopotamia. In turn, Magan became the Achaemenid satrapy of Maka, named in Darius I’s rock inscriptions. It’s also named in Herodotus’ work as Mykia. In the Greek accounts of Alexander the Great’s disastrous overland return from India though, the eastern part of Makrān is called Gedrosia, a name whose etimology is completely obscure.

    The region that Alexander traversed on his return by land to the west from India was named Gedrosia by the Greek sources. The experience of his army and fleet as narrated by Arrian is interesting because it suggests that (contrary to assessments by some modern scientists) the natural conditions of Baluchistan have not changed significantly over the past 2,300 years. Population was generally sparse and ater and provisions were difficult to find without good guides. In the inland valleys, agriculture was facilitated by sophisticated engineering of small-scale irrigation, based mainly on the yield from summer rains. The most fertile area was the Kech valley, which was densely settled according to the accounts of classical authors. A main road to the Indus ran from the capital Pura, which corresponds probably to modern Bampūr in Iran, which is the largest area of fertile watered land, though it could have been in Kech, the next largest, or possibly even in one of the narrower river valleys, such as the Sarbāz. “Indians”, both Hindu and Buddhist, lived in Pura; through it both land and sea trade from the coast could pass westwards to Kermān.

    Alexanders-return.jpg

    The return trip of Alexander.

    Alexander founded an Alexandria at the principal settlement of the Oreitae in the modern district of Las Bela in Pakistan. As he proceeded westward he was forced to turn inland by the difficulty of the coastal terrain. The passage between Las Bela and Pasni was the worst stretch of the whole expedition. Apart from intolerable heat and lack of food, water, and firewood, at one point a flash flood swept away most of the women and children following the army and all the royal equipment and the surviving transport animals. From Pasni they proceeded along the flat coastal plain to Gwadār, and then inland to Pura. The experience of the fleet that proceeded along the coast under the command of Nearchus was similar. The daily search for food and water rarely produced more than fish and dates, sometimes nothing. Along the beach they found communities of Ichthyophagi (fish eaters), hairy people with wooden spears who caught fish in the shallows with palm bark nets and ate them raw or dried them in the sun and ground them into meal, wore fish skins, and built huts of shells and bones of stranded whales (according to Flavius Arrian’s Anabasis and Indica).

    Gwadar-Beach.jpg

    The Bay of Gwadār, in Pakistani Baluchistan.

    Apart from the Anabasis, scattered references about Makrān survive also in Arrian’s Indica and in Ptolemy’s Geography. In Ptolemy’s work, it appears a port named Tesa in the western part of Makran, which is considered by historians to be identical with the port of Tīz described by medieval Islamic authors as the largest city in Makrān. The port was destroyed by a Portuguese fleet in 1581, and currently Tīz is the name of a small fishing village in the bay where stands the modern Iranian city of Čāh-bahār. Ptolemy also named two further ports: Cuiza and Badara, that Ehsan Yarshater identified with modern Gwādar.

    Ehsan Yarshater also conducted an interesting analysis of the IV century CE Roman road map known traditionally as Tabula Peutingeriana, comparing it with the accounts of Chinese pilgrims and other eastern sources and applied it to the eastern parts of the Sasanian empire. In the Tabula, it appears that Makrān was one of three major routes of access from the Iranian Plateau to the Indian subcontinent (most probably, along the same coastal highway that exists today in Pakistani Baluchistan). According to the Tabula, there was a major road linking Staḳr in Pārs with Quzdār in eastern Baluchistan, with two major stations; according to Yarshater the road followed the valley of the Raḳšān river. The first station in the Tabula is Bestia Deseluta, identified by Yarshater as being in the area of Sib or Mūrt on the Maškel river. According to the Tabula, here the road bifurcated, with one branch running north to Zarang in Sīstān and the other east to India. This easterly highway continued to Rana (or Rainna) in the land of the Rhamnae, wich according to Yarshater would have been at or near Panjgūr, and finally to Quzdār.

    According to Yarshater, the image that emerges from the works of Classical authors is that ancient Makrān was a border area, with mixed population: Iranian Maka/Mykians to the west and Indian tribes to the east, like the Arbies and Oreitae, while Arrian and Nearchus’ “fish-eaters” of the coast could have been an aboriginal, pre-Indoeuropean people. This image of Makran as a land with mixed cultural influences is further reinforced by the medieval Islamic authors, like the anonymous author of the Ḥudūd al-ʿĀlam (The Regions of the World, written in New Persian in the late X century CE), Bīrūnī and the anonymous author of the Čač-nāma (considered traditionally to be the New Persian translation of a lost Arabic original of the IX century CE, heavily revised in its final form in the XIII century CE).

    And it also agrees with another source, the account of the VII century CE Chinese pilgrim Xuanzang, who allegedly visited Sindh in ca. 640 CE, although several scholars think that his accounts of Sindh and Makrān were second-hand ones. Xuanzang wrote that at that time, Makrān was under “Persian” rule, but on the other hand, a Rashidun army invaded the region in 644 CE, which according to Islamic accounts was at that moment ruled by ruling dynasty of Sindh. The account of Xuanzang can be compared to the text of the Čač-nāma. According to it, the usurper Chach of Aror, who had recently overthrown the Rai ruling house of Sindh, invaded the southeastern provinces of the Sasanian empire in 630-631 CE, marching west along the Makrān coastal highway through the town of Armadil/Armanbelah, which has been usually identified with Las Bela in Pakistani Baluchistan. In the Čač-nāma, this town is described as having been in the hands of a Buddhist Samani (Samani Budda), a descendent of the agents of the Rai kings of Sindh who had been appointed to rule the area for their loyalty and devotion, but who later made themselves independent from the rulers of Sindh; according to the Čač-nāma he offered his allegiance to Chach.

    Hingol-Nat-Park-Hindu-Temple.jpg

    A ravine in Hingol National Park in eastern Baluchistan, where the HIndu shrine of Hinglaj is located.

    The same chiefdom of Armadil is referred to by Xuanxang as located on the high road running through Makrān, and he also describes it as predominantly Buddhist. Thinly populated though it was, it had no less than eighty Buddhist convents with about five thousand monks. In effect at eighteen km north west of Las Bela at Gandakahar, near the ruins of an ancient town lie the caves of Gondrani, which could have been inhabited by Buddhist monks. According to Xuanzang, going through the Kij valley further west there were some one hundred Buddhist monasteries and six thousand priests. He also wrote about several hundred Deva (Hindu) temples in this part of Makrān, and in a town which is probably modern Qaṣr-e Qand he wrote about a temple of Maheshvara Deva, richly adorned and sculptured. There are thus seemingly reliable accounts for a very wide extension of Indian cultural practices in Makrān in the VII century CE. By comparison, nowadays the last place of Hindu pilgrimage in Makrān is Hinglaj, two hundred and fifty-six km west of present-day Karachi in Las Bela.

    Bīrūnī was also very clear when he wrote that:

    The coast of India begins with Tīz, the capital of Makrān, and extends thence in a south-eastern direction towards the region of Al-Daybul (i.e. in the Indus delta), over a distance of forty farsakh.
     
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    7.7 THE SĪSTĀN BASIN AND HERĀT.
  • 7.7 THE SĪSTĀN BASIN AND HERĀT.

    The central Afghan highlands are formed by a series of mountain ranges that open lile a fan from the Kōh-e Bābā mountain range (itself a prolongation of the main Hindu Kush range to the west of the Kabul Basin) covering a 90º angle over the map. These mountain ranges area aligned like spike wheels with the Koh-e Bābā at the center of the wheel. Between these mounstain ranges run deep and narrow valleys with rivers that drain mainly into the Helmand Basin (except for the two northernmost of these rivers; the Murghāb (the river of Merv) and Harī (Harī Rōd in New Persian/Dari) rivers that drain into the sands of the Karakum Desert in northeastern Iran and southeastern Turkmenistan.

    All the other rivers are tributaries of the Helmand River, which with its length of 1,300 km is the longest river in Afghanistan. Its source is at the the Koh-e Bābā mountain range, about 40 km west of Kabul. The Helmand receives five main tributaries: the Kajrud (or Kudrud), Arḡandāb, Terin, Arḡastān, and Tarnak rivers. After draining the entire southwestern portion of Afghanistan (approx. 260,000 sq. km), the river moves southwest towards the Iranian border, crossing the Afghan provinces of Wardak, Oruz-gān, Helmand, and Nimruz. South of Zaranj (just at the Iranian border), the river flows northward, forming the Afghan-Iranian border for 55 km before emptying into the Helmand marshlands of Sīstān. The river reaches the border area crossing the Mārgo Desert (Dašt-e Mārgo in New Persian/Dari), and upon reaching the border, it splits into two separate waterways. The first of them, called Helmand (locally also called Daryā-ye Sīstān, the “Sīstān River”), flows through the Sīstān plains, where it is used for irrigation by the local population. The second, named Siḵ-sar (also called Pariān), forms the Afghan-Iranian border for 55 km and finally drains into the Hāmun-e Helmand (meaning the “Helmand Lake”) which used to be the main expanse of fresh water within the Iranian Plateau.

    Afghanistan-physical-01.png

    This post will again be heavy with geographic descriptions, so I strongly advise you to follow it with this map at hand.

    The median annual water flow of the Helmand stood in the XX century around 2,200 million m3 and, although it runs its course runs mainly through Afghanistan, its most irrigable banks lie in Iran. Needless to say, in this dry and waterless region, the Helmand and its tributaries have been key to the existence and survival of the local population.

    Helmand-basin.png

    The Helmand Basin.

    From a topographical point of view, the southeastern quadrant of the Helmand Basin is sometimes called the Arachosian Plateau; it’s a continuation of the Baluchistan Plateau, from which its is separated by the Chagai Hills to the south. Immediately north of the Chagai Hills lie the sand dunes of the vast Rīgestān (or Rēgistān) Desert; this desert is crossed by the Helmand River, that describes a wide bend across it on a southwestern direction before turning to the north in Sīstān. The desert continues on the northern bank of the Helmand, but here it receives the name of Mārgo Desert. The altitude of the plateau drops steadily to the east and northwest (as can be seen by the wide bend of the Helmand), before becoming the wide depression of the Sīstān Basin, with its historical wetlands. The trend continues to the nort, in the Afghan province of Farāh, where the piedmont of the central mountains come nearest to the Sīstān lakes; but the Harut River to the north is the last river that drains into the Sīstān Basin. North of it, the Harī River flows into an east-west direction into the sands of the Karakum Desert past Herāt, and the Murghāb River flows between the Band-e Turkestān and Safēd Kōh mountain ranges from east to west before turning sharply north at the end of the Band-e Turkestān mountains to drain into the sands of the Karakum Desert at the Merv oasis.

    chagai-hills.jpg

    The Chagai Hills are the divide between the Helmand Basin and northern Baluchistan.

    registan-desert.jpg

    The Rēgistān Desert.

    In turn, the Helmand Basin is just a part of the larger Sīstān Basin. The Sīstān basin is the easternmost endorheic basin in the Iranian Plateau, and it drains an area of 350,000 km2, of which 74% of which is in Afghan territory, and the rest within Iran. The depression itself is almost 500 km long from east to west and approximately 300 km from north to south. It consists of a series of desert plateaus surrounded by mountains on all sides. The deserts of the plateaus are covered by extensive sand dunes in the Rigestān desert in the southeast and elsewhere by vast pebble-strewn areas (called dašt in New Persian) like the Dašt-e Mārgo and Dašt-e Ḵāš deserts. The plateaus and deserts surrounding the lowest part of the basin are in turn carved by more or less deeply excavated and terraced valleys and wādīs. The rivers (seasonal or perennial) that drain into the Hāmun-e Helmand at the bottom of the depression flow into it through deltas, located at 500 m above sea level, into a flat and very shallow basin. The basin is differentiated into different parts that are inundated more or less regularly according to the amount of water received from the rivers. The lake itself, commonly known as Hāmun-e Helmand (or Daryāča-ye Hāmun), covers an area up to 3,000 km2 and under favorable runoff conditions reaches a maximum depth of approximately 10-11 m. When the water level drops, the lake is reduced to three separate bodies of water (Hāmun-e Ṣāberi, Hāmun-e Puzak, and Gowd-e Zereh) with a total area of about 1,200 km2, varying in size from year to year. Gowd-e Zereh, the lowest section of the lake, is 467 m above sea level. It is separated from the main basin by a low threshold and receives water only when the runoff of the main tributaries is extremely high.

    Sistan-Basin-02.jpg

    Map of the Sīstān Basin, showing the lakes described in the text.

    In normal historical circumstances, water in the Sīstān lakes is rarely more than 3 m deep, while the size of the lakes has varied both seasonally and from year to year. Their maximum expansion happened in late spring, following snowmelt and spring rainfall in the Afghan mountains. In years of exceptionally high runoff, the lakes overflowed their low divides and created one large lake that was approximately 160 km long and 8 to 25 km wide with nearly 4,500 km2 of surface area. Overflow from this lake was carried southward into the normally dry Gowd-e Zereh. Mountain runoff also varies considerably from year to year. In fact, the lakes have completely dried up at least three times in the XX century. The maximum extent of the Sīstān lakes following large floods created a continuous large lake covering an extended area of about 4,500 km2 with a volume of 13000 million m3. This happened for the last time in the spring of 1998 after snowmelt in the Afghan mountains transferred large quantities of water into the Sīstān Basin. Nowadays, the Hāmun-e Helmand has dried up after twenty years of drought and the building of several dams on the Afghan side of the border; that has led to a mass exodus from Iranian Sīstān (around 25% of the population has left already), in what used to be one of the most agriculturally productive areas in the Iranian Plateau and South-Central Asia.

    Dierd-Lakes.gif

    Historical evolution of the Sīstān lakes between 1976 and 2009 according to NASA satellite images.

    The entire region is extremely arid, characterized by a dry continental climate, with cold winters and very hot summers. The average annual rainfall recorded at the town of Zābol over a period of more than twenty years in the 1960s and 1970s was approximately 55 mm, with the extremes of 11.9 mm in 1973 and 108.9 mm in 1963. As in other desert environments, occasional rainstorms may cause severe or even disastrous damage. The annual average temperature is approximately 21.6° C, but winter frosts of minus 12° C have also been recorded, and in summer the temperature may exceed 50° C. The average yearly amplitude of variation of monthly mean temperatures is of more than 25° C.

    In Antiquity, this large territory was called by several names and divided into several administrative and political entities, and here stood several important cities, of which the most important ones are Qandahār and Herāt.

    The easternmost and southernmost of the tributaries of the Helmand is the Tarnak River that rises in the central highlands of Afghanistan (Hazārajāt) and flows in a southwest direction for 380 km until it joins the Arḡandāb River, a direct tributary of the Helmand. Its valley runs parallel to the Suleiman mountains, that form the border between the modern states of Afghanistan and Pakistan, and it forms a corridor that provides an easy route (without major mountain passes) between the major cities of Qandahār in the south and Kabul in the northeast. By the late Sasanian and early Islamic era, this valley gained importance as the center of the kingdom of Zābolistān, ruled by the Zunbils. The historically important city of Ghazni stands in this valley; located on a plateau at 2,219 m above sea level, it’s well-known for its extremely cold winters (with recorded temperatures of -25 ºC).

    Tarnak-River-Qalat.jpg

    The Tarnak River in Qalat province, Afghanistan.

    Arachosia is the Latinized form of the Greek Arachōsíā, the name of a satrapy in the eastern part of the Achaemenid empire located around modern Qandahār, which was inhabited by the Iranian Arachosians or Arachoti. The Old Persian form of its name is Harauvatiš; this form is the etymological equivalent of Vedic Sárasvatī (the name of a river in the Rigveda, and which means “rich in waters/lakes”). The main river in this satrapy, according to Graeco-Roman geographers, was the Arachōtós, which modern scholars identify with the Arḡandāb River, a tributary of the Helmand. Arachosia also appears named in the Vidēvdāt (one of the books of the Avesta) under the name Haraxᵛaitī, that could be a rendering of its indigenous name. In the late Sasanian and medieval Islamic era the region along the great road to India from Bost to Zābolistān was called Zamindāvar by Arabic and Persian authors, a name that is probably derived from a famous shrine to the sun-god Zūn that existed here (the German scholar Marquart traced its etimology to the Middle Persian Zūndātbar (“Zūn the Justice-giver”) or Zūn-dādh (“Given by Zūn”).

    Helmand-River-01.jpg

    Aerial view of the Helmand River.

    The exact extent of the Achaemenid satrapy of Arachosia remains unclear. With the Arḡandāb valley as its center, it seems not to have reached the Hindu Kush, but it apparently extended east as far as the Indus river (as written by Strabo), and Achaemenid inscriptions mention this satrapy as the source of the ivory used in the decoration of the great palace of Darius I at Susa. According to Ptolemy, Arachosia bordered Drangiana (i.e. Sīstān) in the west, the Paropamisadae (i.e., the satrapy of Gandhāra) in the north, India in the east, and Gedrosia to the south. Ptolemy also mentioned several tribes of Arachosia by name: the Parsyetae, and, to the south, the Sydri, Rhoplutae, and Eoritae. After the Macedonian conquest and Alexander’s death, Arachosia was ruled by Seleucus I Nicator, and was later ruled by the Mauryan emperor Aśoka (there’s conclusive epigraphical evidence for this). Later, Arachosia became part of the Graeco-Bactrian kingdom and came under Arsacid control during the rule of Mihrdāt I (r. 171 - 132 BCE).

    During the rule of the Arsacid king Ardavān II (ca. 128 - 123 BCE), Saka tribes invaded the eastern part of the Arsacid empire from Central Asia, and occupied Arachosia settling in neighboring Drangiana, whose name thereafter became Sakastān (later Sīstān). When and how Arsacid rule over Arachosia was reestablished is unknown. Isidore of Charax (who wrote during the reign of Augustus) gave evidence for Arachosia, if only a little part of the original satrapy of this name, being under the rule of the Arsacids, who called it Indikḕ Leukḗ (“White India”). Strabo (following the earlier III century BCE author Eratosthenes of Cyrene) described Arachosia a fertile land, whose main valleys sustained a large settled population of agriculturists, whereas the mountainous northern part was suitable only for raising cattle.

    South of Afghanistan’s central mountains, the confluence of the Arḡandāb, and its tributary, the Tarnak, forms a broad alluvial cone, with a gradual slope of 1,000 to 900 m over sea level to the west. The climate here is semi-arid (164 mm annual rainfall at Qandahār), and the area is well-suited for irrigated farming, with the use of either surface or underground canals (qanāt or kāriz). This oasis, which borders to the south the barren expanses of the Rēgistān desert, extends for about 70 km from east to west and is 30 km wide (north to south) at its broadest. It has a continuous, irrigable soil, that it is only slightly divided by rocky outcroppings. With an area of over 1,000 km2, it accommodates today the densest rural population in southern Afghanistan, and probably the same has been true for most of history.

    This oasis was thus obviously very well suited for the establishment of a major urban center; and the spot best suited for it was near the top of the alluvial cone, in the area where the Arḡandāb river enters the plain from the mountains. This site also provided a natural stopover on the southwest-northeast road that skirted along the foothills of the central Afghan mountains, and it soon evolved into a major traffic junction. From here a relatively easy road heads east skirting the Rēgistān Desert and then turns toward the southeast crossing the Toba Kakar mountain range through the Khojak Pass to Quetta; beyond this city, it crosses the Central Brahui range through the Bolān Pass and then leads down to the plains of Sindh. This has along history one of the two main paths of access to the Indian subcontinent, making it possible to avoid the very arid route along the coast of Makrān.

    kandahar-iranica-01.jpg

    Sketch map of the Qandahār oasis, showing the position of the several sites mentioned in the text. 1: Old Qandahār; 2: the city founded by Nāder Shah; 3: the current city of Qandahār, founded by Ahmad Shah Durrani; 4: later extensions of the city 5: place where the "Aśoka Edict" was found; 6: irrigated farmland; 7: rainwater crops; 8: rocky areas unsuited for agriculture.

    The urban complex, or, rather, the successive urban sites located in the oasis, go back for sure to very ancient origins, perhaps even to the beginnings of urban society. But the modern city of Qandahār is quite recent, only two and a half centuries old; the question still remains as to where the town or towns that preceded it were situated within the oasis.

    About 4 km to the southeast of the modern city of Qandahār there’s an extense field of ruins, known today popularly as Šahr-e kohna (meaning “the old city” in New Persian/Dari; Zoṛ šār in Pashto). This was the place occupied by Qandahār up to the XVIII century. The site was probably chosen due to the defensive possibilities offered by the rock ridge of Qaytul. Reaching an elevation of around 1,400 m over sea level, it dominates (by a height of about 400 m) the alluvial plain spread below it; a citadel was built at the top and secured the hill. This defensive site has the advantage of being the northernmost of the rocky outcroppings scattered along the plain, and the closest to the top of the alluvial cone; from it’s possible to control and supervise the irrigation system. It’s possible that the ridge of Qaytul has been the focal point for all the major urban developments in the oasis from ancient times to the XVIII century. However, this has not been proven, and the historical conditions under which there emerged the important city that existed there up to its destruction by Nāder Shah in 1738 remain obscure.

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    Picture taken in 1882 of the ruined citadel at Old Qandahār.

    The city’s name (its etimology and its changes along recorded history) is a related problem. Since the dawn of the Islamic era, it has borne the name Kandahar (traditional English spelling; the Romanization from Pashto is Kandahār; and the Romanization from New Persian/Dari is Qandahār), which appears for the first time in the works of the Muslim author Aḥmad ibn Yaḥyā Balāḏori (? - 892 CE). In his account about an Arab raid in the region during the reign of the Umayyad caliph Moʿāwiya (r. 661 – 680 CE), he wrote about a city located “at the Indian border” by the name of al-Qandahār.

    The origin of the name Qandahār remains still unsure and subject to speculation. Scholars though are quite sure about discarding the popular etimology of the name as being derived from Eskandar, meaning “Alexander” in New Persian (after Alexander the Great). What’s completely clear is that an important city on the western border of India existed already from the III century BCE onwards. This is attested by a bilingual inscription in Greek and Aramaic bearing an edict of the Mauryan emperor Aśoka (r. ca. 265 - 238 BCE) found on a rock one kilometer east of the northern part of Qaytul. Even if the city on this site did not yet necessarily bear the name Qandahār, it’s unclear if this city can be identified with the city of Alexandria in Arachosia which the Macedonian conqueror was said to have founded when he conquered the region. Although many authors take this as a given, the question is more complicated than it may seem at first sight.

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    The bilingual inscription with Aśoka's edict. Greek text at the top; Aramaic text at the bottom.

    The tradition regarding the supposed “foundation” (or, more often, “re-foundation”) of the poleis of Alexandria in Arachosia is actually a recent in the Graeco-Roman sources. It was not mentioned in the older works about Alexander; the III century BCE geographer Eratosthenes of Cyrene recorded in Alexander’s itinerary the existence of “the city of the Arachosians” (according to Strabo who names him as his source), meaning with “Arachosians” the people on whom Alexander imposed a satrap on his way to Bactria (according to Arrian of Nicomedia). The names Alexandropolis, Alexandropolis metropolis Arakhosias, and Ellenis only appear in later texts: Isidore of Charax in the I century CE, repeated by Stephen of Byzantium (VI century CE) and others. Attempts have been made by scholars to identify the Arachosian Alexandropolis with Qandahār, but the claim is far from proved. At least the existence of the Aśoka inscription (with its Greek text) and the late classical tradition of an Alexandrine foundation are clear signs of the impact of the introduction of Hellenism in this region.

    Despite the precarious political situation in Afghanistan for the last 40 years, a considerable amount of archaeological work was conducted in Qandahār before 1979, and intermittently after this date. The layout of the pre-1738 defenses can be seen clearly from the air and also from the top of the Qaytul ridge. Right before Nāder Shah destroyed the city (which for the sake of convenience is usually referred to as Old Qandahār), the walls encompassed a rectangle ca. 1,200x500 m at the foot of the Qaytul ridge; a high citadel lay inside the walls, at the foot of the ridge, and additional defenses existed at the top of the hill. According to archaeologists, the citadel goes back at least to the VI century BCE and is probably an early Achaemenid construction. This, and the discovery of a tablet written in Elamite script (one of the three official languages employed by the royal chancellery of the Achaemenid kings), could reinforce the thesis that equates Old Qandahār with the Kapišakaniš that appears in the rock inscription of Darius I at Bīsotūn and with the Greek city of Alexandria in Arachosia. It seems clear that Qandahār was an important fortified town in Achaemenid times. But no Mauryan or Greek building has been located there up to the present, which obviously is a big obstacle for the identification (or the proving of the very existence of) of Alexandria in Arachosia.

    On the top of the Qaytul ridge, the remains of a Buddhist stūpa and vihāra (monastery) were still extant in 1979, overlooking the city and visible from quite afar. The stūpa showed Gandhāran influence. A hoard of couns found in excavations there provided a terminus post quem for the abandonment of the Buddhist complex: between the late VII and the early VIII centuries CE. As for the start date, the vihāra was built much earlier (III – VI centuries CE), but archaeological digs were unable to determine if it was built on top of a previous building.

    Apart from the edicts of Aśoka, another well-known Greek inscription dated to the III century BCE is believed to have come from Qandahār, an inscription in which a certain Sophytos, son of Naratos narrates his life and how he became rich through trade, in a sophisticated and extremely pure form of Greek verse. The names of both characters are not Greek, and they are thought by scholars to be Hellenized Indians.

    Kandahar-Sophytes-Inscription.jpg

    The Greek inscription of Sophytos.

    The numismatic record offers more clues about the political changes that happened in the Qandahār oasis during Antiquity. The earliest coins found in the oasis include Mauryan issues and negama coins of merchant organizations, which probably were struck locally. There are also some Seleucid bronze coins (Antiochus III the Great) and a Greco-Bactrian copper of Euthydemus, then Indo-Bactrian coins, with Greek and Kharoṣṭhī legends (Apollodotus I, Eucratides, Menander, Hermaeus, Hippostratus). Arsacid (Mihrdāt II, Frahāt IV, Gōtarz II) and Indo-Parthian (Gondophares, Pakores, Orthagnes, Arda Mitra) coins findings are numerous. Coins of the Indo-Scythian rulers Azes I and Azes II have also been found. The finding of Sasanian coins covers all the length of the dynasty’s rule from Ardaxšir I to Xusro II; this suggests that Qandahār and its oasis remained under Sasanian control for all of the dynasty’s history. Qandahār also seems to have been the westernmost point reached by Buddhism in its expansion, for no remains of major Buddhist religious complexes have been found west from here in neighboring Sīstān; although historians consider that most of the population in Qandahār followed the local form of Zoroastrianism, mixed with Indian religious influences; the cult of the solar god Zūn seems to have been related to the famous temple of the Sun that existed in Multān in southern Punjab, as described by early Muslim authors.

    The main commercial road continued west from Qandahār following the Arḡandāb River and crossed the Helmand River at the junction of both currents, near the modern city of Laškar Gāh (founded in 1946 on the site of the village of the same name). In Antiquity, the ancient city of Bost stood in its vicinity. Here, the main road bifurcated: on one side it continued to the northwest to Herāt via Dilaram and Farāh and on the other it crossed the Dašt-e Mārgo Desert in a southwestern direction directly towards Zarang, the main city of Sakastān (modern Sīstān). Bost was an important city during Antiquity and the Islamic era until its destruction by Nāder Shah in 1738. Bost was considered by Muslim writers to be already within Sīstān, while Classical sources do not give any precise data about where the limit between Arachosia and Drangiana/Sakastān stood.

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    Remains of the citadel of Bost (their last reconstruction took place in the XII century).

    In several archaeological digs at the site of Bost pottery, terracotta figurines, inscribed seals, and coins datable between 500 BCE and 500 CE have been found, which cover the successive Achaemenid, Arsacid, Kushan, Sasanian, and Chionite-Hephthalite periods. They confirm reports in Graeco-Roman sources that a fortified settlement was located in the triangle formed by the confluence of the Helmand and Arḡandāb rivers. It’s named in Classical texts as Bestia Deselutia, Bestigia Deselenga, Bispolis, and Biyt; Islamic geographers and Western travelers called it variously as Bist, Bost, Bust, Kala-i-Bist, Qala-i-Bust, Cala Bust, and several similar names. It served as a guard post for the caravan trade from Sīstān up the Helmand to the point at which the road divided and allowed to go either to Qandahār and India or towards Herāt and Central Asia. The presence of a Nestorian community from the V century CE onwards has also been attested in the area.

    In pre-Islamic times Bost and its environs were prosperous, due to the abundance of water from the Helmand and Arḡandāb rivers and from several wells. During the early Islamic Middle Ages, the area was celebrated for its fertility, its well-irrigated orchards between the rivers, and the pontoon bridge crossing the Helmand at the point where it became navigable on its southwest course until it drained into the Sīstān lakes. Muslim geographers of the first Islamic centuries reported both commercial and intellectual activity in the town and commented on the fertility of the surrounding area, which was planted with fruit trees, vineyards, and palms.

    Downstream from Bost, the Helmand River flows in a southwestern direction before turning in a northbound direction at the Afghan-Iranian border, where it ends it course in the three freshwater lakes of the Hāmun-e Helmand at the bottom of the Sīstān Basin.

    Because of the extremely high temperatures, the Sīstān Basin is notorious for summer low-pressure systems, tempered by regular north-to-northwest winds, known as “the wind of 120 days” (know as bād-e ṣad or bist ruz). They blow large quantities of very fine sediments (clays and loams) out of the depression, thus contributing to the permanent erosion of the terrain. The winds, coupled with high temperatures, are the cause of very high rates of evaporation, which is estimated at a minimum of 3,000 mm per year, probably higher.

    The water regime of the Hāmun-e Helmand depends entirely on its four affluents. The Helmand river is the most important tributary of the lake, it empties mainly into the Hāmun-e Puzak in Afghanistan. Both the size of the lake as a whole and its water level depend on the quantity of water brought by the Helmand river, which peaks usually between March and May, when meltwater from the Hindu Kush and Afghan mountain ranges reaches the basin. The lowest discharge of water happens in late summer and early autumn.

    In the spring when the Hāmun-e Helmand reaches its maximum size, the water flows southward through the Selagrud River into the Gowd-e Zerreh depression in southwestern Afghanistan. Between May and October, the bād-e ṣad blows from the northwest. This causes intense evaporation, which divides the Hāmun-e Helmand into three separate lakes: Hāmun-e Helmand proper, Hāmun-e Ṣā-beri, and Hāmun-e Puzak, the second lying partly, and the last entirely, within Afghan territory. Moreover, the silt-ladden waters of the Helmand can, if left unfettered, flow in various directions, and history reveals that it can make sudden changes in its course and divert waters into new channels. Dams, distributaries, and protective embankments are some of the measures used to regulate the yearly floods, and the local form of agriculture is a form of āp-band farming very similar to the one practiced in Baluchistan, that tries to reign in the seasonal floods of the Helmand and the other rivers that drain into the lake.

    This part of the Sīstān Basin is the ancient land of Drangiana (or Zarangiana) the name that anciently was used to designate the territory around Lake Hāmūn and the lower Helmand river in modern Sīstān. The name of the country and its inhabitants is first attested as Old Persian Zranka in the great inscription of Darius I at Bīsotūn; historians believe that this was possibly the original name of the land.

    The etymology of Zranka is far from clear. Many scholars prefer a connection with Old Persian drayah- (related to Avestan zraiiah-, Middle Persian zrēh and New Persian daryā, meaning “sea, lake”) and, because of the location of in the Hāmūn basin, have interpreted the name Drangiana/Zranka it as “sea land” or “land of lakes”. But other scholars have objected to this etymology and have suggested that it may have been originally the name of the mountain that dominates this otherwise flat province, known as Kōh-e Khwāja. The ancient name Zranka has survived on in the toponym Zarang (Arabic Zaranj) that designates the historical capital of Sīstān; the modern city of Zaranj in Afghanistan (located very close to the Iranian border) stands near its ruins.

    Sistan-Map-01.jpg

    Map of the Sīstān lakes, with the location of the Kōh-e Khwāja rocky hill.

    According to Strabo, the northern part of Drangiana was bordered to the north and the west by Aria, whereas most Drangian territory extended south of the Parapamisus (a confusing statement, as this name is usually used by Classical authors to refer to the Hindu Kush) and was bordered Carmania to the west, Gedrosia to the south, and Arachosia to the east. Strabo also wrote that at the time (during the reign of Augustus) the province formed a single tax district with Aria. Strabo also described the land as rich in tin, and he wrote that the inhabitants imitated the “Persian” way of life but to have “little wine”.

    The most detailed description, though riddled with errors, is that of Ptolemy, according to whom Drangiana was limited to the west and north with Aria, with Arachosia to the south, and with Gedrosia to the south. According to Ptolemy, a river, supposedly a branch of the Arabis, flowed through it. Ptolemy also mentioned individual tribes living there: the Darandae near the Arian border, the Batrians near Arachosia, and the inhabitants of Paraitakēnḗ inbetween, perhaps reflecting a subdivision of Drangiana in Seleucid and Arsacid times. Ptolemy also listed a number of towns and villages, of which Prophthasía and Ariáspē appear in other sources as well. Both Strabo and Pliny the Elder named Prophthasía, located on or near Lake Hāmūn on the network of major roads, and Stephen of Byzantium wrote that its its pre-Alexandrian name was Phráda; both this city and Ariáspē were also described as “rich and illustrious” by Ammianus Marcellinus. Isidore of Charax though mentioned only Párin (some scholars correct it to Zárin) and Korók among Drangian towns. The Italian historian Paolo Daffinà concluded from these reports that in the Hellenistic period Drangiana was not restricted to the lower Helmand basin but that it probably extended northeast towards the Hindu Kush. Pliny the Elder listed the Zarangians among a large number of peoples living between the Caucasus and Bactria, side by side with the Drangians, quite probably confusing information about a single people taken from different sources.

    Mount-Khajeh-01.jpg

    The ruins of the Zoroastrian sanctuary of Kōh-e Khwāja used to sit on an island in the middle of the lake, but nowadays, due to the drop in water levels, that is no longer the case.

    The highest topographical point in the basin is a basalt hill, known as Kōh-e Khwāja (usually transcribed as “Mount Khajeh” in English), which rises besides the lakes and marshes of the basin. In pre-Islamic times, lake Hāmūn-e Helmand was sacred to Zoroastrians and in Kōh-e Khwāja stood one of the most important fire temples of the Arsacid and Sasanian empires. In Sasanian times, the nobility of this region was still considered to have Saka blood and to be somewhat different in heritage and customs from the nobility of the rest of the Iranian plateau. Sakastān was dominated by the powerful Surēn Pahlav clan, and it was one of the main sources for the famed cavalrymen (savārān) of the Sasanian spah. Traditionally, Sakastān had been a sub-kingdom in the Arsacid and Sasanian empires, and during this period it was ruled by one of the brothers of Šābuhr II, Šābuhr Sakān Šāh.

    Today, the largest city if the Hāmūn-e Helmand basin is Zaranj, which is a city in Afghanistan, located very near the Iranian border and capital of the province of Nimruz, but it does not stand in the same location as the ancient city of Zranka/Zarang/Zaranj, which was the historical capital of Sakastān/Sīstān.

    The remains of the Achaemenid city of Zranka are in Iran, about thirty km to the southeast of the modern city of Zābol, in the province of Sīstān-o Balūchestān, at the site known as Dahan-e Ḡolāmān (meaning “Gateway of the slaves” in New Persian), again very close to the Afghan border. The archeological site was discovered and excavated in the 1960s by Italian archeological archaeologists and is located on a terrace at the foot of the desert plateau that surrounds the Hāmūn-e Helmand basin, near an artificial corridor that serves as the entrance into the basin and for which the site is named.

    After the abandonment of the Achaemenid city, its name, Zarang/Zaranj, was transferred to the subsequent administrative centers of the region, which itself came to be known as Sakastān, which evolved into Sagestān, Sijistān and finally Sīstān. According to the early Islamic geographers, the capital of Sīstān prior to the arrival of the Arab conquerors in 652 CE was located at the site known as Rām Šahrestān; this Sasanian settlement was supplied with water with a canal from the Helmand river, but when its dam collapsed, the city was deprived from water and it abandoned the settlement for medieval Zaranj (this abandonment has to be dated before the X century CE). In turn, medieval Islamic Zaranj is located at Nād-i `Alī, 4.4 km north of the modern city of Zaranj.

    As for the city of Phráda/Prophthasía of the Classical sources, its location is well known. It corresponds to the city of Farāh, capital of the Afghan province of the same name; its name has not changed much across the centuries. It’s located at the place where the main road between Herāt and Qandahār crosses the Farāh river, one of the rivers that are born in the Afghan central highlands are drain into the Hāmūn-e Helmand; the Farāh river also provides an easy route south to Zaranj. The modern city is located at 730 m above sea-level on both banks of the Farāh river. The old town, now in ruins, stood on the right bank of the river at a strategic point commanding the northern entrance into Sīstān, and used to be a major stage and tollhouse on the caravan road from Qandahār to Herāt. The modern town, built on the opposite (eastern) bank, is now the center of all activities and population.

    Farah-River-01.jpg

    The Farāh River in Afghanistan.

    Isidore of Charax described it as the “very great city” of Phra in Aria at the end of the I century BCE and reckoned it as a major stage on the overland route between the Levant and India. Farāh became an important stronghold on the eastern frontier of the Sasanian empire, and was possibly rebuilt by Pērōz Šāhān Šāh (r. 457 – 484 CE) since the province was once named Frāxkar-Pērōz (according to the Belgian scholar Ryka Gyselen). It was still prosperous in early Islamic times, as it was described at the end of the X century CE as a great town, commanding a rural district of some sixty villages, with mixed population of Sunni Muslims, Kharijites, and Christians (according to the Islamic authors Eṣṭaḵrī, Ibn Ḥawqal and Moqaddasī). Under the name of Aprah, it was a Nestorian see from the VIII to XII centuries. The Mongol invasions, which devastated Sīstān, opened a long period of crisis and decline in the city life.

    Farah-Bala-Hissar.jpg

    Remains of the walls of the medieval city of Farāh.

    From Farāh, the old caravan road follows straight north, skirting the westernmost escarpments of the central Afghan mountains and crosses the Harut river, the last of the rivers that drain into the Sīstān Basin. From this point northwards, the road enters what was once the Achaemenid satrapy of Aria. In the ancient sources though, the name Aria was used in quite a confusing way to designate three different but related territorial entities.

    In the first, narrower sense, Aria (Greek Areia/Aria, Latin Aria, from Old Persian Haraiva; Avestan Haraēuua) designates an Achaemenid satrapy that included chiefly the valley of the river Harī (Greek Areios, which gave name to the whole land according to Arrian) and which in antiquity was considered as particularly fertile and, above all, rich in wine. Its capital was Alexandria in Aria since its foundation by Alexander the Great ca. 330 BCE, which corresponds probably to the the modern Afghan city of Herāt. This territory located south of Margiana and Bactria, to the east of Parthia and the Carmanian desert, north of Drangiana and to the west of the Paropamisadae is described in a very detailed manner by Ptolemy and corresponds, according to that, almost exactly to the modern Afghan province of Herāt. In this sense, the term is used correctly by some Greek and Latin writers like Herodotus, Diodorus Siculus; Strabo, Arrian of Nicomedia and Pomponius Mela; this latest author made the important point that “nearest to India is Ariane, then Aria”.

    Hari-upper-valley.jpg

    The upper valley of the Harī river in the Afghan province of Ḡur.

    This brings us to the second, broader sense in which the name Aria, or rather Ariane (Latin Ariana) was used by Greek and Latin authors: as the designation of the eastern parts of “greater Iran”, next to India, which were in possession of the Persians, the Macedonians, but later partly also the Indians (as used by Strabo). Because of this second usage of the term later authors like Aelianus wrote about “Indian Arianians”.

    The third and most extensive usage of the geographical term Ariana is closely related to the second one and was introduced by Eratosthenes of Cyrene (according to Strabo). According to this third usage, Ariana was defined by a border-line comprising the Indus river in the east, the sea in the south, a line from Carmania (Kermān) to the Caspian Gates in the west, and the so-called “Taurus Mountains” in the north, and, as Strabo wrote, also by its name, “as of a single nation”, which implies that its inhabitants shared some sort of common ethnic identity, at least in the eyes of Graeco-Roman authors. This large region includes almost all of the countries east of ancient Media and Fars and south of the great mountain ranges up to the deserts of Gedrosia and Carmania (i.e. Makrān and Kermān, respectively), which included the ancient lands of Carmania, Gedrosia, Drangiana, Arachosia, Aria proper, the Paropamisadae and also Bactria; which was called “the ornament of Ariane as a whole” by Apollodorus of Artemita (again, according to Strabo). A detailed description of that region is provided by Strabo. This usage of the term by Eratosthenes of Cyrene (followed by Strabo and Diodorus Siculus) was probably due to a mistake, since, firstly, not all inhabitants of these lands belonged to the same tribe and, secondly, the term “Aryan” originally was an ethnical one and only later did it become a political one as the name of the Sasanian Iranian empire (for all Indians and Iranians designated themselves as “Aryan” originally) and so did other Iranian tribes outside of Ariana proper, like the Medes, Persians or Sogdians.

    Hari-River-01.jpg

    The valley of the Harī river.

    The modern Afghan province of Herāt constitutes roughly the northern one-third of the western lowlands of Afghanistan, bordering on Iran and comprising the eastern extensions of the ancient Sasanian and early Islamic province of Khorasan. Altitudes range from an average of 900 m in the west in the lower valleys of the Harī River to an average of 1,300 m in the east in the upper valleys of this river. Data on climate and precipitation and climatic variation in the province are sparse and inconsistent. Freezing temperatures are common in winter but rarely reach -10° C. Early spring is marked by occasional freezing temperatures, which rise to an average of 21° C in May. The average temperature in summer is about 30° C, but it occasionally reaches 45° C. With fall arrive increasingly cool temperatures that range in average from 20° to 25° C. Annual precipitation for the province, mostly in the form of rain, during the 1960s it was 79.1 mm with 54.7 mm falling during the month of February alone. The hills and steppes that surround the Harī valley provided some of the best grasslands in Central Asia for grazing according to historical accounts. Ruins scattered around Herāt suggest that the valley used to be much more extensively cultivated and settled than it is today.

    The town of Herāt is situated in the western part of the province in a fertile valley irrigated by the Harī River, which springs from the Ḡur mountains in the east and turns north along the Iranisn border before turning west, vanishing in the sands of the Karakum Desert in Iran near the border with Turkmenistan. The Harī River runs through its valley, bypassing the town, which lies about 5 km to the north of the river at an altitude of 2,650 m over sea level. Herāt has been for all of its long history an irrigated oasis surrounded by pastoral hills and steppes.

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    XIX century map of the old city of Herāt, with the citadel embedded in the northern tract of the walls, as is usual in Central Asian cities.

    The city of Herāt consists of the new and the old town, surrounded by a partly preserved outer wall. The old town, nearly square in plan, is separated into four quarters formed according to the old city gates; Bāzār-e Kušk in the east, Bāzār-e ʿErāq in the west, Bāzār-e Qandahār in the south, and Bāzār-e Malek in the north, at the northern end of which lies the Royal Fort (Arg-e Šāhi) and beyond it the new town, Šahr-e Naw. Herāt was once the point of convergence for several important caravan routes and was also famed as the granary of Central Asia, while the north-south road from Bukhara and Marv to Sīstān, Kermān and Qandahār (and India) passed through the city.

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    Panoramic view of the citadel of Herāt, after being completely restored with internationsl help between 2006 and 2011. Its current form dates back to the reign of Shah Rukh (r. 1405 - 1444), but its foundations date back to the Sasanian era and earlier.

    The present town of Herāt dates back to ancient times, but its exact age remains still unknown. In Achaemenid times, the surrounding district was known as Haraiva (in Old Persian), and in Classical sources the region was correspondingly known as Areia (Aria in Latin). In the Avesta (Yašt 10.14; Vidēvdāt 1.9), the district is mentioned as Harōiva. The name of the district and its main town is most probably derived from that of the main river of the region, the Harī (derived from reconstructed Old Iranian *Harayu, meaning “with velocity”). The naming of a region and its principal town after its main river is af we have seen in previous posts a common feature in this part of the world. The site of Herāt dominates the agriculturally productive part of ancient Areia, which was, and basically still is, a rather narrow stretch of land that extends for some 150 km along both banks of the Harī Rōd. At no point along its route is the valley more than 25 km wide.

    The capital of the Achaemenid satrapy of Haraiva/Areia was one of the three centers in the eastern part of the empire, together with ancient Bactra and Old Kandahār. In late 330 BCE Alexander the Great captured the Areian capital, that according to the Classical authors was called Artacoana. The etymology of this name remains unknown, and whether this place can be identified with the modern city of Herāt is also uncertain, although the strategic position of modern Herāt hints at its great antiquity; and thus, the possiblity remains that they are one and the same place. In the early XIX century an Achaemenid cuneiform cylinder seal was allegedly found in or near Herāt, reinforcing this possibility.

    After the Macedonian conquest, Graeco-Roman sources refer to a city called Alexandria in Aria, but again its location remains unknown, as well as its hypothetical correspondence with modern Herāt. Soon after the death of Alexander, Aria was briefly attacked by Scythian nomads from the fnorth. In the following years, Aria became a frontier area between the Arsacid empire to the west and the Graeco-Bactrian kingdom to the east. In the late II century BCE the Graeco-Bactrian kingdom was destroyed by northern tribes, and the Scythian Sakas traversed the district of Aria, until perhaps under pressure from the Arsacids, they finally settled in nearby Drangiana to the south; which was known subsequently as Sakastān. In the Parthian Stations by Isidore of Charax, an itinerary composed in the Augustan era, the district of Aria is placed between Margiana and Anauon (around modern Farāh) to the south. In this work the district was clearly regarded as forming part of the Arsacid kingdom.

    Herat-Citadel-01.jpg

    The citadel of Herāt in winter.

    In the Sasanian period, Harēv is listed in Šāpuhr I’s ŠKZ inscription; and Hariy is mentioned in the Middle Persian catalogue of the provincial capitals of the Sasanian empire known as Šahrestānīhā ī Ērānšahr (literally, “The provincial capitals of Iran”). As of around 430 CE, the town is also listed as having a Nestorian community. Sasanian seals and engraved gemstones were reported to have been found in or around Herāt (in a British report from 1842). The city served as a Sasanian mint, and its mint mark is recorded in the coins issued there as hr, hry, and hrydw (according to numismatists). Gold and copper Sasanian coins minted in Herāt have been found, a rarity because of the Sasanian preference for issuing silver drahms. The gold coins from the Herāt area show a fire altar on the reverse and the portrait of the ruler on the obverse. The name of the ruler is often identical to one of those listed on the Kushano-Sasanian coins from Bactria, and this could indicate that the Kušān Šāh at times also controlled the Herāt district.

    In the last two centuries of Sasanian rule, the area and town of Aria/Herāt acquired strategic importance in the endless wars between the Sasanians kings and the Hunnic groups (Chionites, Kidarites and Hephtalites), who became settled in Bactria during the late IV century CE; and later with the rising empire of the Türks.
     
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    7.8 THE SOGDIAN LANDS.
  • 7.8 THE SOGDIAN LANDS.

    Sogdiana (or Sogdia) was an Iranian-speaking region in Central Asia that stretched from the rivers Āmu Daryā in the south to the Syr Daryā in the north, with its heart in the valleys of the Zarafšān and the Kaškā Daryā rivers. But its exact borders varied along time; Classical sources offer at times very confused descriptions and it’s difficult to reconstruct from them what was the exact extent of Sogdiana according to Greek and Roman geographers. Chinese descriptions (especially from the III-IV centuries CE onwards) are very detailed and give us quite precise limits; apparently the Chinese between the III and VIII centuries considered “Sogdiana” to include even Khwārazm and all the steppe south of the Issyk Kul Lake, which is a staggeringly large extension of territory. By far, the most precise descriptions have been left by Muslim authors of the first Islamic centuries writing in New Persian and Arabic; but the territory that they considered to be “Sogdiana” was surprisingly small: just the valley of the Zarafšān River between Samarkand and Bukhara.

    Sogdiana-Map-01.jpg

    Map of ancient Sogdiana, with most of the cities and geographical names quoted in the text.

    Here I will consider as “Sogdiana” the territories that are usually considered so by the current academic consensus, and I will deal also with the territories to the north of Sogdiana proper (the Ferghana Valley and the Tashkent oasis) that were historically part of the Sogdian cultural sphere.

    The description is complicated by the fact that these territories are divided today between four states: Uzbekistan (which includes most of the area, plus its two historically largest cities: Samarkand and Bukhara), Tajikistan, Kazakhstan and Kyrgyzstan. The limit that is clearest is the southern one: ancient Sogdiana was located in its entirety to the north of the Oxus (modern Āmu Daryā). The southeastern limit with Bactria though is tricky. Originally, the limit between Sogdiana and Bactria was the valley of the Surkhan Daryā, until it joined the Āmu Daryā at Termeḏ. But at some time under the Graeco-Bactrian kings or the early Kushans, the border was moved to the east to the Hissar Range (also spelled Hissor or Gissor) and Termeḏ became a Bactrian city.

    To the east, ancient Sogdiana becomes a very rugged country, and it’s difficult to establish with any clarity where stood its ancient limits. In this part of the country, three mountain ranges run parallel to each other on an east to west direction, as extensions of the great Pamir Range. The Hissar Range runs parallel to the south of the Zarafšān Range before it turns south and gradually ends before meeting the Āmu Daryā. To the west of Lake Iskanderkul, the Zarafšān Range and the Hissar Range are connected by the Fann Mountains, which form the highest part of both ranges. The eastern and southern escarpments of the Hissar Range (whose rivers were direct tributaries of the Āmu Daryā in its upper valley) belonged to Bactria in Antiquity, while the opposite escarpments belonged to Sogdiana. The so-called Pass of the Iron Gates across the western part of the Hissar Range was the border point at which the main caravan road between Balḵ and Samarkand (via Termeḏ) crossed from Bactria into Sogdiana.

    Anzob-Pass-Hissar-Range-Zarafshan-Range-background.jpg

    The Anzob Pass in the Hissar Range, with the Zarafšān Range in the background.

    The Zarafšān Range extends over 370 km in an east−west direction, reaching the highest point of 5,489 m at Chimtarga Peak in its central part. South-west of the town of Panjakent the range crosses from Tajikistan into Uzbekistan, where it continues at decreasing elevations (1,500–2,000 m), until it blends into the desert southwest of Samarkand. To the north, the valley of the Zarafšān River runs east for approximately 250 km from Samarkand and separates the Zarafšān Range from the Turkestan Mountains, and then it runs parallel to its north.

    Zarafshan-River-01.jpg

    The upper valley of the Zarafšān River.

    The Zarafšān Range is crossed in a north-south direction by three rivers: the Fan Daryā, the Kaštutu Daryā, and the Maghian Daryā, all of which flow north and are left tributaries of the Zarafšān River. The part of the Zarafšān Range east of the Fan Daryā is also known as the Matcha Range. It has heights around 5,000 m and in the east, it’s connected to the Alay Range, which is the third of the parallel ranges that I mentioned earlier in this text. The Matcha Range is the location of the Zarafšān Glacier, which is 24.75 km long and is one of the longest glaciers of Central Asia. The northern slopes of the Matcha Range are relatively smooth and slope gently to the Zarafšān River, whereas the southern slopes drop sharply to the valley of the Yaghnob River.

    The highest part of the Zarafšān Range is located between the Fan Daryā and the Kaštutu Daryā and includes the Fann Mountains. The western part of the range reached heights of up to 3,000 m and is heavily forested. There are several passes crossing the range, including Akhba-Tavastfin, Akhba-Bevut, Akhba-Guzun, Akhba-Surkltat, the Darkh Pass, Minora, and Marda-Kishtigeh, with elevations between 3,550 and 5,600 m. The Fan Daryā has also excavated a gorge across the range. These ranges are rich in minerals such as coal, iron, gold, aluminum and sulphur. Gold findings have been reported for the entire course of the Fan Daryā, Kaštutu Daryā, and Maghian Daryā, and it provides the etymological root for Zarafšān, which means “spreader of gold” in New Persian. This mountainous part of Sogdiana is included today mostly within Tajikistan, and most of its population is still Iranian-speaking (the main spoken language is Tadjik, which is how the local variant of New Persian is called in Tajikistan for political reasons). Although the Sogdian language is now extinct, there is a small population in the valley of the Yaghnob River who speak Yaghnobi, an Eastern Iranian language that is considered by linguists to be a descend directly from Sogdian.

    Fann-Mountains.jpg

    The Fann Mountains.

    The two vital rivers for the ancient Sogdian economy are born in these ranges: the Zarafšān and Kaškā rivers; I will come back to them later when I describe the lowlands of Sogdiana proper, but now to keep some sort of geographical order, I will continue this trip north. North of the Turkestan Mountains we find the upper valley of the Syr Daryā, the other great Central Asian river. This is the Fergana Valley, which has been historically one of the most fertile places in Central Asia.

    The Turkestan Mountains (confusingly named similarly as another east-west range in northern Afghanistan) are an extension to the west of the Alay Range, which is itself just an extension of the great mountain range of the Tian Shan that borders the Tarim Basin to the north. The Central Tian Shan Range is separated from the Alay Range by the valley of the Kara Daryā River; to the north-west of this valley, the Fergana Range forms the eastern limit of the Fergana Valley, and is separated from the Chalkal and Kuramin ranges that forms the northern enclosure of the Fergana Valley by the valley of the Narin River.

    Ferghana-Map-01.jpg

    Map of the Ferghana Valley showing the modern political boundaries that cross it between the Central Asian republics of Uzbekistan, Tajikistan and Kyrgyzstan.

    The Narin and Kara Daryā rivers met within the valley near the Uzbek city of Namangan and form the Syr Daryā at their confluence. Almost all of these mountain ranges that surround the Fergana Valley fall within the limits of the modern state of Kyrgyzstan, while the lower parts of the valley are divided between Tajikistan and Uzbekistan. The Fergana Valley is about 300 km long and up to 70 km wide, covering an area of 22,000 km2. The valley owes its fertility to the numerous rivers that flow across it; apart from the Narin, Kara Daryā and Syr Daryā, several other tributaries of these rivers exist in the valley, like the Sokh River that flows from the Turkestan Mountains to the south. All these rivers, and their numerous mountain tributaries, not only supply water for irrigation, but also bring down vast quantities of sand, which is deposited along their courses, especially along the banks of the Syr Daryā where it cuts its way through the Khujand-Ajar ridge at the western entry of the valley. This creates wide expanses of quicksand that cover an area of 1,900 km2 and which, under the influence of south-west winds, encroach upon the agricultural districts.

    Karadarya-river.jpg

    The Kara Daryā River near Namangan.

    The oasis of Tashkent is located on the course of the Chirchiq River, a tributary of the Syr Daryā on its northern bank, about 60 km to the northeast of the confluence between both rivers, and at about the same distance to the northwest of the entry of the Ferghana Valley. In ancient times, this oasis was the center of the principality of Čāč, and the northernmost settlement in the Sogdian periphery, except for some “colonies” that Sogdian nobles built even more to the north, on the northern piedmont of the Chalkal and Kirghiz ranges, all the way to near the Issyk-Kul Lake, on the northern slopes of the Tian Shan mountains.

    Back to the south, Sogdiana “proper” can be defined as the territory enclosed by the wide bend of the Zarafšān River (formerly also called the Soğd River, and the Polytimetus River by the Greeks) as it leaves its upper valley deeply enclosed between the parallel Zarafšān and Turkestan ranges and turns slightly to the northwest and then describes a wide bend to the southwest before ending in two large consecutive alluvial fans before reaching the Āmu Daryā; these two alluvial fans form two large oasis (similar to those in Merv and Balḵ) that are (in downstream order) the Bukhara oasis and the Qaraqul oasis. Along the middle and lower valley of the Zarafšān River lay most of the largest Sogdian cities, especially the two largest and most famous ones: Samarkand and Bukhara. The Kaškā Daryā springs in the Hissar Range south of the Zarafšān River, and carries much less water, it’s also much shorter. It eventually vanishes into the Qarshi Steppe, well within the wide bend of the lower Zarafšān valley. In its banks stood some important Sogdian settlements, especially the city of Naḵšab (also referred to as Nasaf, corresponding to the modern Uzbek town of Karshi).

    Kashka-River-02.jpg

    The upper valley of the Kaškā Daryā.

    To the northwest of the lower valley of the Zarafšān River, there’s the inhabited expanses of the Kyzyl-Kum (“red sands” in Turkic) Desert, which occupies all the territory between the Āmu Daryā and Syr Daryā until the Aral Sea.

    Before the arrival of Iranian-speaking peoples in Central Asia, Sogdiana had already witnessed at least two urban phases. The first one was centered at Sarazm (fourth to third millennia BCE), where a town of some 100 ha has been excavated and where both irrigation agriculture and metallurgy were practiced. The second phase began towards the XV century BCE at Kök Tepe, on the Bulungur canal north of the Zarafšān River, where the earliest archeological material appears to go back to the Bronze Age, and which continued throughout the Iron Age, until the arrival from the north of the Iranian-speaking populations that were to become the Sogdian people. This urban settlement declined with the rise of Samarkand. Pre-Achaemenid Sogdiana is mentioned in the Younger Avesta (Vendīdād, 1.4; Yašt 10.14; the name of Sogdian lands in the Avesta is Gauua) and is said to be inhabited by “the Sogdians”.

    Cyrus the Great conquered Sogdiana in about 540 BCE. He advanced as far as the Syr Daryā, where he established the town of Kyrèschata (known as Cyropolis by the Greeks), the farthest extent of the Achaemenid empire to the northeast, identified with the current site of Kurkath. Samarkand probably received its first major fortifications during this period. Sogdiana was integrated into the Achaemenid empire as a distant frontier province and remained as such until the arrival of Alexander the Great in 329 BCE. No satrap for Sogdiana is known, and the recently discovered Aramaic documents from Bactria confirm that Sogdiana was governed from Bactra. The region provided contingents of soldiers to the Achaemenid kings, along with laborers and semiprecious stones (lapis lazuli and carnelian or garnet) for the palace workshops. Deported populations from other parts of the Achaemenid empire were often settled there. The influence of the Achaemenid empire had lasting effects in the region; more than a millennium after its fall, in the VII century CE, the administrative formulae inherited from Babylonia were still in use in Sogdiana. Around the beginning of the Common Era, the Sogdian script was developed out of the Aramaic alphabet brought into Sogdiana by the Achaemenid bureaucracy; with the exception of the script of Bukhara, which remained very similar to Arsacid Pahlavi.

    At the time, Sogdiana constituted the northern frontier of the sedentary world and was in constant contact with the nomads of the steppe. Sogdian society was an agricultural one based on the irrigation of the fertile loess soil of the Zarafšān and Kaškā Daryā valleys. Large-scale irrigation may go as far back in time as the second millennium BCE. The nomads built their kurgans around the settled oases occupied by the sedentary Sogdians and their economic exchanges, products of animal husbandry for products of the earth, seem to have been significant. This constant interaction and coexistence of the agricultural, sedentary Sogdians with the steppe nomads within the same geographical area was to become the dominant feature of Sogdian economic and political life from Antiquity to the Mongol invasions.

    It took three years for Alexander of Macedon to subdue Sogdiana; the diadochi who succeeded him kept control of the region until 247 BCE. Afterwards, the Graeco-Bactrian rulers, who were descendants of local Greek colonists, asserted their independence and, according to numismatic evidence, they apparently held control over most of Sogdiana until approximately 140 - 130 BCE. The Greeks provided Sogdiana with its first real coinage, because Achaemenid silver darics are almost entirely absent from the area. Certain types of Greek coins remained in use in Sogdiana in degraded form until the V century CE. Archeological digs have revealed that the walls of Samarkand show clear signs of Greek rebuilding, and millet granaries for the Greek garrison have been found on the acropolis/citadel.

    The next five hundred years of Sogdian history are extremely obscure. There is basically no information on Sogdiana concerning this period other than what is related in the Chinese sources (Shiji, Hanshu and Hou Hanshu). Around 160 - 130 BCE, the region was overrun by various waves of migratory nomads from the north, first by the Iranian-speaking Saka followed by the Yuezhi who had been displaced by the Xiongnu from near the Chinese northeastern borders. Beginning in the I century BCE, most of Sogdiana was included in a larger nomadic state, centered on the middle Syr Daryā that is named by the Chinese sources as Kangju; based on the scanty evidence available modern scholars consider the Kangju to have been of Iranian stock. On the other hand, the Yuezhi principalities and then the Kushan empire incorporated the southeast part of Sogdiana (south of the Hissar mountains), which thereafter left the Sogdian sphere and was attached to Bactria. Small-scale Sogdian commerce then developed in imitation of the larger-ranging merchants operating farther south, in Bactria; these were the humble beginnings of a commercial tradition that would come to dominate Eurasian exchanges during Late Antiquity. The economic activity seems to have been limited to agriculture, while artistic activity has been deemed "rather mediocre" by the French scholar Frantz Grenet. Archaeologically, the Kangju state has been tentatively linked to the appearance of the culture of Kaunchi (which stretched from the II century BCE to the VIII century CE), named after the site (Kaunchi Tepe) on the middle valley of the Syr Daryā where most of its artifacts have been found. And some archaeologists have suggested that the capital of this state could have been at the site of Kanka, to the south of Tashkent, where in the first centuries of the Common Era a city was laid out according to a rectilinear square plan and was surrounded by a wall with internal corridors occupying a total surface of 150 ha. This culture seems to have developed from nomadic populations native to the land, as it shows the coexistence of towns, cities and non-irrigated agriculture with cultural practices associated to nomadic steppe cultures, like kurgan burials.

    According to the Shiji, Hanshu and Hou Hanshu, the Kangju state at one point managed to control a very large territory in Central Asia. The first notice in the Chinese sources of the Kangju can be found in the Shiji. They were mentioned by the Chinese envoy and diplomat Zhang Qian who visited the area ca. 128 BCE, and whose travels were included in the Shiji (whose author, Sima Qian, died ca. 90 BCE):

    Kangju is situated some 2,000 li (i.e. 832 km) northwest of Dayuan (i.e. the Fergana Valley). Its people are nomads and resemble the Yuezhi (i.e. the nomad people from which the Kushan dynasty would eventually emerge) in their customs. They have 80,000 or 90,000 skilled archers. The country is small, and borders Dayuan. It acknowledges sovereignty to the Yuezhi people in the South and the Xiongnu in the East.

    According to the account in the Shiji, Zhang Qian also visited a land known to the Chinese as Yancai (literally meaning "vast steppe"), which lay north-west of the Kangju and whose people were said to resemble the Kangju in their customs. some scholars have identified the Yancai with the Aorsi, Aorsoi or Aiorsoi of Graeco-Roman sources, living in the vicinity of the Aral Sea.

    According to the Hanshu (which covers the rule of the earlier or western Han from 206 BCE to 23 CE), Kangju had expanded considerably to a nation of some 600,000 individuals, with 120,000 men able to bear arms. Kangju had become now a major power in its own right, and by this time it had gained control of Dayuan and Sogdiana in which it controlled “five lesser kings”. Another interesting information to be found in the Hanshu, is that in 101 BCE the Kangju had allied with the people of Dayuan (Fergana) and provided them with help against the armies of the Han empire which had started to cross the Pamirs from the Tarim Basin.

    Orlat-Plaques-01.png

    At the beginning of the 1980s, a bone plaque (probably part of a belt) was discovered in the Uzbek site of Orlat, 50 km northwest of Samarkand. Although their its exact dating is still in dispute, some scholars think that they should be dated to the Kangju era, while others are more inclined towards a dater, Hunnic dat (IV - V centuries CE). All agree though, that this plaque does not reflect Sogdian artistic traditions, but those proper to steppe peoples, and so that they were brought to the place where they were found by northern nomads.

    The apogee of Kangju power though seems to have happened during the rule of the later or eastern Han dynasty (25 – 220 CE). According to the Hou Hanshu (Chronicle of the Later Han, redacted in the V century CE) at that time Suyi (i.e. Sogdiana), and both the "old" Yancai (which had changed their name to Alanliao and seem here to have expanded their territory to the Caspian Sea), and Yan, a country to Yancai's north, as well as the strategic city of "Northern Wuyi" (considered by scholars to be the Alexandrine foundation of Alexandria Eschate in the Fergana Valley, which has been tentatively identified to the modern Tadjik city of Khujand), were all dependent on Kangju. These data from the Hou Hanshu have led to many speculations by scholars: some of them have linked the name Alanliao with the Sarmatian Alani, and their subjugation by the Kangju with their migration west to the Pontic Steppe where they entered in contact with the Roman-controlled Greek settlements on the northern coast of the Black Sea and the Roman client kingdom of the Bosphorus, and eventually launched attacks across the western Caucasus and through Armenian territory into the Roman provinces of Bithynia et Pontus and Cappadocia, where they were defeated by the provincial garrison led by its governor Lucius Flavius Arrianus (Arrian of Nicomedia), which has left us a detailed account of his order of battle when fighting the Alani in his Ektaxis kata Alanon, which can be translated into English as “Deployment against the Alani” or “Order of battle against the Alani”.

    According to these Chinese sources, the Kangju sustained a long rivalry against their nomadic northern neighbors the Wusun (which according to Étienne de la Vaissière were another Iranian people) and became embroiled in the wars between the Xiongnu and the Han, whose main theater was located much farther to the east but which also spilled into western Turkestan after the Han conquest of the Tarim Basin and the encroachment of Chinese armies into the Fergana Valley, a conflict that eventually led to the intervention of the Kushan empire further to the south as well.

    Western-Regions-1st-century-BC-en.png

    The "Westrn Regions" according to the Shiji, the Hanshu and the Hou Hanshu.

    The Kangju state appears to have devolved in the II-III centuries CE into a confederation and Chinese sources mention the petty kingdoms that formed it. This “confederation” should be interpreted as aristocrats of Kangju nomadic stock being in charge of the territories centered around each of the large cities of the old unified kingdom, which were inhabited by people who were not “ethnically” Kangju, but Sogdians or members of other cultures. This confederate organization has recently been confirmed with the discovery at the site of Kultobe in the Arys River valley in Kazakhstan of a dedicatory Sogdian inscription, dated to the II - III centuries CE, in the remains of a fortified city alluding to the foundation of the city as a joint “colonial” enterprise by the main city-states of Sogdiana (Čāč, Samarkand, Keš, Naḵšab and Bukhara) encroaching upon the territory of the Wusun nomads that inhabited this area.

    The Chinese sources of the IV to VIII centuries CE give very detailed descriptions of Sogdiana and attest to the very close links between it and China, where colonies of Sogdian traders are already attested during the early IV century CE. The Chinese perceived Sogdiana not as a unitary state but rather as a federation of cantons of Hu barbarians (i.e., a settled Iranian population), which were governed by princes of the Zhaowu clan. The most important ruler resided in Samarkand, which was named Kang and was considered by the Chinese to be a continuation of the ancient Kangju state. Other lands of the “Hu of nine houses of Zhaowu” were also given one-syllable names: so Māymorḡ (to the east of Samarkand, perhaps including Panjikant) was called Mi; Osrušana (also transliterated as Ustrushana; the region of Ura-tyube in Uzbekistan to the southwest of the Fergana Valley), the northern part of the Samarkand oasis and its northwestern part around Eštikan were called Cao (in turn divided into eastern, central and western respectively); further west, around Karminiya and modern Navoi, on the middle Zarafšān, the Chinese located the territory of He; the Bukhara oasis was called An (probably after ancient Anxi; which was the transcription of Aršak, meaning “Parthia”), and the upper part of the Bukhara oasis was the “Lesser An”; Paykend was Bi; Keš on the Kaškā Daryā was Shi and Naḵšab downriver from Keš was called Minor Shi.

    Wirkak-01.jpg

    From the III century CE onwards, the presence of Sogdian merchants and artisans increased in China, to the point that in the large cities they formed communities that were led by their own leader, the Sabao as it was known in Chinese. Several tombs of these sabaos have been found in China; in 2003 the tomb of the Sogdian trader Wirkak was found near Xi'an in central China. The epitaph is bilingual, in Sogdian and Chinese, and describes his whole life since his youth in the Sogdian state of Shi until his rise to the post of sabao of the Sogdian community in Wuwei. He died in China in 579 CE and his sons buried him and his wife Wiyusi (also a Sogdian, from the state of Kang) according to the Sogdian Zoroastrian custom, in a grave adorned with sculpted reliefs. This is the south (front) side of his sarcophagus.

    These one-syllable denominations were also applied by the imperial administration as surnames of Sogdians (“Hu”), who lived in China and are attested even in Sogdian texts composed in the Far East. The territories adjoining Sogdiana, namely Shi (Čāč), Mu or Wu-di (Āmol, modern Čārjuy on the Āmu Daryā), Wu-na-he (modern Kerki on the Āmu Daryā) and Huoxin (Khwarāzm) were also sometimes included in the Zhaowu confederation according to the Chinese histories. In the travel-report of Xuanzang, who passed through Central Asia in 630 CE, all the territory between Suye (Suyāb in the Ču valley, to the East of modern Bishkek in Kyrgyzstan) and the “Iron Gates” mountain pass between Keš and Termeḏ is called Suli, and he said that they shared the same language and culture. The Chinese records of this time supply us also with transcriptions of a number of local place-names (mostly identifiable ones), reliable accounts on distances between cities, descriptions of rivers, mountains, remarks on the economy, religions of Sogdian lands and their political organization (including the names of a number of rulers and their embassies to the imperial court). The “houses of Zhaowu”, that is, the minor principalities of Sogdiana, had a certain degree of independence and some of them at least had their own coinage.

    At the end of the Kangju period, urban hierarchies had developed in Sogdiana. In the south in the valley of Kaškā Daryā, Naḵšab had achieved a dominant status, while in the north near the Syr Daryā the town of Kanka (located within the district of Čāč, near modern Tashkent) played the same role. On the other side, Samarkand was reduced to a third of the area of 220 ha that it had occupied during the Greek period, and the oasis of Bukhara no longer seems to have been organized around a dominant central town, although the town of Paykend seems to have been already in existence.

    Scholars don’t know how to interpret Šābuhr I’s ŠKZ inscription, which gives the limits of his empire as Keš, Suğd, Čāč; this has been interpreted by Étienne de la Vaissière as a confirmation that the Sogdian cultural area was still divided amongst several principalities. That means that all of Sogdiana, including its northern peripheries all the way to the oasis of Tashkent, were under Šābuhr I’s rule. The problem is that this claim is rather dubious, as there’s no archaeological or numismatic evidence of Sasanian presence north of the Āmu Daryā during the III and IV centuries CE: neither buildings, nor reliefs, coins or any other sort of artifacts. This has led some scholars to consider Šābuhr I’s claim as a mere empty claim to rule over all the lands that had been once ruled by the greatest of the Kushan emperors Kanishka I, and by others to indicate just that he exerted some sort of protectorate over the Sogdian principalities, which were tributaries of the Sasanian kings, but that there were no Sasanian troops or bureaucracy north of the Oxus. On the other side, it’s interesting to note that Ammianus Marcellinus expressly named the Sogdiani as one of the peoples that formed part of Šābuhr II’s empire.

    Samarkand is perhaps the most famous of the cities of ancient Sogdiana; it stands in the middle valley of the Zarafšān River, in a hilly countryside that is the last western projection of the Zarafšān and Turkmenistan mountain ranges. The French archaeologist and historian Étienne de la Vaissière wrote an interesting study about traditional irrigated agricultural systems in this site in order to make a very broad estimate of the demographic capabilities of the area (in the same paper where he accrued out similar studies for the alluvial oasis of Merv and Balḵ that I quoted in earlier posts), and I will quote now in some length.

    Middle-Zarafshan-Valley.jpg

    Irrigation canals and irrigated croplands in Late Antiquity and Early Middle Ages in the middle Zarafšān valley, according to Étienne de la Vaissière.

    The structure of irrigation in the middle Zarafšān valley and in Samarkand was very different from the ones at Merv and Balḵ This is a valley, not an alluvial fan, and here the water flows naturally along its lowest topographical point. The aim of irrigation is to manage to keep the water as high as possible, by carefully designed side canals starting as upstream as possible and with a slope as reduced as possible. Except for the upper reaches of these canals, the so-called idle part useful only for allowing the canal to reach a controlled topographical height, every single plot of land between the canal and the bottom of the valley could theoretically be irrigated. The crucial part is then the date of the several canals irrigating the valley. De la Vaissière was certain, because of the map of the Early Middle Ages settlements, that the Bulungur, Dargom and Yangi Ariq canals were flowing, and that the Miankal, the wet zone between two branches of the Zarafšān River, was drained. De la Vaissière also believed that further downstream the Faiy area was also watered, but he’s not as sure about the Narpay and the Eskiangar canals. The zone that can be irrigated by the Eskiangar canal was not settled, according archaeology: it was watered in Antiquity and it would also be irrigated later in the Timurid period, but not in-between. As for the Narpay canal, that today irrigates the Chilek region, De la Vaissière was quite sure that it did not exist during Late Antiquity, as the Arab geographer Ibn Ḥawqal described the Widhar-Chilek region as watered by rain and streams, not irrigated.

    With these data, De la Vaissière estimated the irrigated part of the middle valley of the Zarafšān, from Waraghsar to the entrance of the Bukhara oasis to cover about 3,500 km2. De la Vaissière concludes that if all this land was annually irrigated, which was perfectly possible as water is usually plentiful in the area, then around 750,000 people could have been fed with grain only.

    De la Vaissière though points out that this is rather a maximum than a minimum, based on the idea that all the available land within canals was watered, something that in actual history would only have been true during limited, peaceful periods. However, De la Vaissière also points out that even if we wanted to cut down this number, we should also increase it: to wheat fields we should also add orchards which can sustain ca. 600 p./km2, dairy products from pastoralism and also the wheat fields in the lateral zones of the valley, watered only with local water sources and rain. According to De la Vaissière, these pluvial agriculture zones were actually very extensive and cover around 1,500 km2. According to one early Islamic source (left unnamed by De la Vaissière) when the weather was favorable, the yield of Abghar, a 700 km2 region of pluvial agriculture (before and after this time irrigated in part by the Eskiangar canal) could be over 1:100 and feed the whole Suğd, i.e. the region between the oases of Bukhara and Samarkand. De la Vaissière stated that even if this was an exaggeration, it still points to very productive agricultural zones to be added to the 3,500 km2 irrigated region. However, De la Vaissière decided to calculate according to an average rate: in medieval Iran the taxes of pluvial agriculture lands were 1/3 of the taxes on irrigated land. Translated into what De la Vaissière calls “feeding power”, these lands would be equivalent to triennial fallow lands which could support about 70 p./km2, this would add about 100,000 inhabitants to the grand total who could possibly be fed by the agricultural resources of the valley. This would put more firmly the population of the middle valley of the Zarafšān close to 700,000 or 800,000 inhabitants, as a middle hypothesis. The De la Vaissière proceeded to look for historical data that could allow him to check that hypothesis?

    There are census numbers for the region before the dramatic changes brought to local agriculture by the Soviet system in the XX century. According to the census of the Russian empire of 1897, the combined uezd of Samarkand and Kattakurgan, that is, without the part of the valley downstream from Samarkand, was populated with about 450,000 inhabitants, including poorly populated regions, as the mountains surrounding the valley and the mountainous upper part of the Zarafšān valley. This uezd did include only 70% of the agricultural lands in the valley, as its western part which contained 30% of the irrigated land within the canals was included in the Emirate of Bukhara which was not covered by the census. So, according to De la Vaissière, if we make use of this ratio to calculate the whole population of the middle and upper valley, this would give an approximate 640,000 population for this area. De la Vaissière then proceeded to slightly reduce this number to exclude the Upper Zarafšān and the mountains, arriving to an estimate of 580-600,000 inhabitants for the middle Zarafšān valley from Waraghsar to the limit of the oasis of Bukhara.

    However, De la Vaissière pointed out that archaeological surveys have shown that the valley at the end of the XIX century was far less populated than during its heydays of the VII-X centuries CE. Some parts were no longer irrigated, as the Yangi Ariq zone, and even in the irrigated part many settlements were not reoccupied after the X century maximum. The absolute maximum number of settlements was reached during the period of the VII-X centuries CE. So, De la Vaissière thought that there’s nothing implausible in the 700,000 to 800,000 range for times of economic prosperity and internal peace like it would be the case for the whole of Sogdiana from the middle V century CE onwards (with a zenith during the Samanid era), with only a temporary downward bump caused by the destructions brought about by the Arab conquest of Transoxiana during the first half of the VIII century CE.

    There’s also much later data: after the extremely destructive Mongol conquest, in Samarkand and its oasis, but without the valley downstream, there were supposedly 100,000 households. The population in the VIII century at the start of the Umayyad conquest is unknown, but De la Vaissière thought that it might have been only slightly below these numbers. The Arab invasion was extremely destructive in Sogdiana and De la Vaissière thinks it’s reasonable to suppose that the population declined between the beginning of the VIII century CE, before the Arab invasion, and its end, after the numerous destructions of castles, villages and towns which took place, especially under the rule of Abu Muslim. There’s some data from written sources about this period. When the Umayyad general Qutayba ibn Muslim besieged Samarkand in 712 CE, there were 130,000 Sogdians behind its walls. Some of them might have been refugees from the neighboring countryside, and so De la Vaissière estimated that Samarkand might have had in normal time up to 80,000 - 100,000 inhabitants. By comparison, Samarkand in 1897 had 55,00 inhabitants.

    According to De la Vaissière, as a grand total for the whole Zarafšān valley, at its agricultural climax under the Samanids, a minimum population of 1.5 million, and maybe more than 2 million would be a likely hypothesis if the numerous depictions of geographers from the X century CE are to be believed.

    The modern city of Samarkand, which was refunded by Timur, does not stand over the ruins of its ancient and medieval (pre-Mongol) predecessor. Ancient Samarkand stood in the site known as Afrāsīāb, which is now in the northern part of the modern city. Afrāsīāb covers an area of 219 ha, and the thickness of the archeological strata reaches 8-12 m. The ruined site has the shape of an irregular triangle, bounded on the east by the irrigation canal of Āb-e Mašhad, and on the west by the deep Aṭčapar ravine, which in ancient times played the part of a moat. Inside these limits Afrāsīāb appears as a hillocky waste with several depressions sunk over what had once been town squares and reservoirs. In the northern part rise the ruins of the old citadel (a square of 90 by 90 m) with a ramp along its eastern facade. The ruined site is surrounded by earth banks, remnants of fortress walls belonging to four successive ages.

    Afrasiab-06.jpg

    Plan of Afrāsīāb (Old Samarkand).

    The settling of the territory of Afrāsīāb began in the VII-VI centuries BCE. Back then, it was already a city occupying almost the entire area of the present site and surrounded by a powerful fortress wall of rectangular, unbaked bricks on an adobe platform. The supply of water was ensured by a canal and open reservoirs (discovered in the eastern and northern parts of Afrāsīāb). The city at the end of this period is identified with Marakanda, the city conquered by Alexander the Great during his campaign in Sogdiana in 329-327 BCE according to Arrian and Quintus Curtius.

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    Remains of the walls of the citadel of Afrāsīāb.

    The archeological strata that follow chronologically after the Macedonian conquest identified in the site belong to the period from the IV to the I centuries BCE. Specific for these archeological strata are high quality wheel-turned ceramics that show the influence of the Hellenistic tradition. One of the goblets found bears the Greek name Nikis, while among the terracotta objects found there are heads that follow the model of the helmeted Athena and Arethusa. Coins of the Seleucid king Antiochus I Soter and of the Greco-Bactrian kings Eutidemus and Eucratides have also been found.

    Afrasiyab-Recon-VII-VIII-01.jpg

    In 1965, Soviet archaeologists uncovered in the site of Afrāsīāb a spectacular finding. They were the very well conserved wall murals that decorated once the reception hall of the particular residence of a rich citizen (it was not the ruler's palace). Due to the scenes depicted in the murals, the hall was nicknamed "the ambassadors' hall". The paintings depict scenes from India, China, Iran and the Turkish lands, and in the best perserved part of the murals, they show foreign ambassadors being brought to the presence of the ruler of Samarkand, from places as distant as China and Korea, with very accurate clothing, weapons and hair styles. They are dated to tsecond half of the VII century CE, when the Sogdian cities were living the heyday of their commercial supremacy over the central Asian trade networks. In the above picture, you can see a hypothetical reconstruction of the ambassadors' hall.

    Afrasiyab-Recon-VII-VIII-02.jpg

    Drawing showing the reconstruction of the main scene of the ambassadors' hall.


    The next archaeological layer corresponds to the I – IV centuries CE. Although the extended view among scholars is that the city underwent a period of decline at this time, some other scholars see it otherwise, a view confirmed by excavations of recent years. These have uncovered monumental residential and religious buildings and workshops, in particular the quarter of ceramicists and metalworkers. During that period the aqueduct known as Jūy-e Arzīz was built, bringing water from the Darḡom canal to the city and new defensive walls were also built. This period would end abruptly in the IV century CE and the archaeological digs show signs of an abrupt shrinking of the city area, which is linked by almost all scholars to the irruption of northern nomads into Sogdiana.

    Within the territory of ancient Sogdiana, Bukhara occupies a relatively secluded spot on the western fringes of the Zarafšān hydrographic basin. This is probably why, over the centuries, the Bukhara oasis seems to have been culturally closer to Khwarāzm or Merv (and hence Iran) or, even, Čāč than to the historical heart of Sogdiana, which lies in the area of Samarkand. The Italian scholar Ciro Lo Muzio even wonders if Bukhara, along with the irrigated lands surrounding it, should even be considered an integral part of Sogdiana, and if this could extend for much longer than the two or three centuries of Late Antiquity (V - VIII centuries CE) during which a homogeneous Sogdian cultural pattern is clearly detectable along the whole course of the Zarafšān River. Lo Muzio pointed out that in Soviet archaeological literature about Transoxiana a cautious distinction was made between “Samarkand Sogdiana” and “Bukharan Sogdiana”, to which Lo Muzio would add a third region: Southern Sogdiana, corresponding to the valley of the Kaškā Daryā.

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    Map of the Bukhara oasis and the Qaraqom oasis to the south, which is formed by a secondary alluvial fan of the Zarafšān River.

    Coming downriver from the east (that is, from Samarkand), one enters the Bukhara oasis approximately at Hazara, on the western end of a narrow strip of cultivated land that crosses the Malik steppe along the Zarafšān River. From there, the river turns to the south-west and branches out into a delta which disappears in the sands of the Kyzyl-Kum Desert before reaching the Āmu Daryā (approximately 25 km from its northern bank). The geographical landscape of the Bukhara oasis has been continuously affected by this river and its tributaries, a hydrographic basin which, across the centuries, has been subjected to expansion and shrinking, depending on both climatic and man-made factors among which stands in particular, the artificial irrigation network. Some of its most interesting archaeological areas are now situated on the very edge of the oasis or beyond its modern limits.

    During the Bronze Age, an archaeological complex named as the Zaman Baba culture by archaeologists existed in the Bukhara oasis. This period is followed by a rather hazy one, from which the archaeological record only starts to recover during the Achaemenid era, which shows that the lower city (šahrestān) of Bukhara was already occupied. The following period (IV century BCE – II/III centuries CE) is somewhat better documented in the archaeological record. There are some traces that could hint at a period of Greek dominion over the oasis (under the Seleucids and the Graeco-Bactrian kings), especially the finding in the 1980s of a hoard of Graeco-Bactrian coins at the site of Talmach Tepe near Varaḵša, although not all scholars agree on this; Evgeniy V. Zejmal and Ciro Lo Muzio among others think that there no reliable proof of Greek political control over this area.

    But what seems clear is that Hellenistic culture (probably emanating from the Graeco-Bactrian kingdom) influenced the oasis of Bukhara, and particularly its coinage; as local rulers began precisely during this time to issue local imitations of Graeco-Bactrian coins of king Eutidemus (known as “barbarian imitations” among numismatists). Such “barbarian imitations” have so far been found at many sites within the Bukhara oasis (Varaḵša, Ramitan, Kyzyl Kyr, Paykend, and others). Questions about the identity of the rulers who issued these coins, their origins, and the kind of polities they ruled upon are still open. The picture is further complicated by the existence in the Bukhara oasis of another numismatic “stock,” which was struck under the name of “Hyrkodes”, which represent only a very small amount of the total stock found to this time. The obverse of these coins shows a male bust in profile to the right, with receding forehead (probably artificially deformed, a very extended costume among steppe peoples), shoulder-length hair, a band fastened around his head, and a long moustache and beard, accompanied by the inscription “Hyrkodes” in Greek and later on in Sogdian script (as in other Bukharan coins, where Greek was gradually replaced by Sogdian). Scholars are unsure about what did “Hyrcodes” mean. Was it a personal name, a title, or the name of a dynasty? Whatever it must’ve meant, this coinage lasted for a long time; from the I century BCE to the IV century CE; there are also several clues that point to the south-western sector of the oasis as the main minting center for these coins.

    Sogdian-Hyrkod-III-IV-01.jpg

    "Hyrcodes" coin, dated to the III-IV centuries CE.

    According to Lo Muzio, it’s likely that between the II century BCE and IV century CE, two political entities coexisted in the Bukhara oasis; for both of them, however, little more is known than the appearance of their coins. But Lo Muzio considers it possible that both (or at least the “Hyrkodes” dynasty) sprang from the nomad tribal confederations which, from the II century BCE onwards, achieved through conquest a hegemonic position in different parts of western Central Asia. According to Lo Muzio, there seem to be similarities with what has been reconstructed in Bactria after the Yuezhi conquest. “Hyrkodes” coins show some similarities with those of the first Kushan or proto-Kushan rulers, especially Heraos, at least as far as the ruler’s portrait is concerned. In other words, the Bukharan coinage, in particular the “Hyrkodes” emissions, possibly stems from an ethnic, cultural, and ideological realm akin to the milieu from which the Kushan dynasty emerged.

    Lo Muzio thought it very unlikely that the Kushans ever extended their kingdom to Sogdiana; and that surely they never ruled in the Bukhara oasis. He also thought more probable that whoever ruled the Bukhara oasis between the II century BCE and the IV century CE would have had links with the Kangju. This is supported by archaeological findings around the Bukhara oasis, where several kurgans have been found which after being excavated have yielded strong similarities with the ones found in the core area of the Kangju in the middle Syr Daryā both in material culture and funerary practices.

    In the Bukhara oasis, the influence of the Kaunchi culture is clearly detectable as late as the III-IV centuries CE in agricultural settlements; material elements belonging to this tradition have been found at the excavations at Kyzyl Kyr, Setalak, Ramitan, Bash Tepe (in the north-western part of the oasis) and in Bukhara itself, in layers dated to the III-IV centuries CE; which up to some point has been linked by scholars to the migration south of refugees from the Syr Daryā valley after the start of the Hunnic invasions.

    The oasis of Bukhara was also studied by Étienne de la Vaissière in his study of the early medieval demography of Central Asia. The wall of the Bukhara oasis is partly preserved and delimitates an area of about 3,200 km2. All the early medieval Muslim geographers give a 12x12 farsakhs area to the oasis within its wall: it fits very neatly into the preserved parts of the wall.

    A small part of the oasis was outside the wall, controlled by the independent principality of Paykend, on the road to the Āmu Daryā crossing, adding a few hundred km2. Sometimes, this part of the oasis is considered as a separate oasis (the Qaraqul oasis), as in fact it’s formed by a second alluvial fan of the Zarafšān River. The Soviet changes in the irrigation network make nearly useless the currently irrigation network to evaluate the ancient feeding capacity of the oasis, although the descriptions of the ancient canal network in Arabic texts allow a rough reconstruction.

    Bukhara-Oasis-08.jpg

    Map of the irrigated croplands in the Bukhara and Qaraqom oasis, according to Étienne de la Vaissière.

    De la Vaissière stated that if we were to apply the density calculated for the Balḵ oasis (see my earlier post), that is, the distribution of cultivated land between orchards, annually irrigated and fallow lands as we see it in the Balḵ oasis, a pure hypothesis, then the Bukhara oasis might have fed at least 360,000 inhabitants.

    But De la Vaissière thought that the actual population of the Bukhara oasis would have been much higher during its late antique and early medieval heyday, especially in the IX and X centuries CE under Samanid rule. According to De la Vaissière, opposed to the case of Balḵ, the amount of available water was not a problem for Bukhara: actually, there was more water than needed and it overflew to a small lake beyond Paykend, on the Qaraqul secondary fan. This means that there could have been much less fallow land in Bukhara than in Balḵ, and much more annually irrigated land. If all the cultivated land in the oasis was irrigated annually, then the Bukhara oasis could have fed about 800,000 inhabitants, a maximum that does not consider the fact that the area occupied by orchards is quite small in the model applied to the case of Balḵ. Conversely, the excess of water could have created swamps within the oasis.

    In favor of this very high hypothesis, De la Vaissière quoted the texts of the Islamic geographers of the X century CE. They described Bukhara as an oasis without any barren track or fallow land, as well as stating that there were thousands of highly productive orchards within it. They added too that the population was so numerous that its agriculture could not entirely feed it. To De la Vaissière, it seems clear that when Bukhara was the capital of the Samanid empire, the upper end of the 360,000 - 800,000 range is the most likely hypothesis. It should have been less so in the VIII century CE but the political geography of the oasis, with the important role devoted to Paykend and Vardāna (see below), both on its outer limits, and of Varaḵša, the residence of the Bukhar Khudah (again, see below), also on the fringe of the oasis, point towards a densely populated oasis.

    Bukhara-Arg-01.jpg

    View of the walls of the citadel (Arg) of Bukhara today. The current walls date to the modern era, but they are built directly over the walls of the old Sogdian citadel, using the same building materials (mudbricks) and techniques.

    Unlike Samarkand, the city of Bukhara has grown up during the centuries, without significant interruptions, on its original foundation. The present “old town” center sits on top of the deep archaeological stratification of the ancient and medieval settlement and the citadel hill (Arg) remained for centuries the seat of the ruling élite until the Soviets overthrew the last Bukharan emir in 1920. This has left very little physical space available for archaeological digs; the remarkable depth of cultural layers (up to 20 m in the Arg and 16-18 m in the šahrestān), which in several urban areas are crossed by water tables, are further obstacles that cannot be easily overcome. For these reasons, archaeological research has so far concentrated on very limited areas.

    According to the reconstructions by archaeologists, which agree with the written sources, Bukhara was founded in a marshland crossed by one of branches of the Zarafšān River. The first settlement, which has been dated to between the late IV and the II centuries BCE, was situated where the citadel is now located, that is, on the highest of the three hills emerging from the marsh. Later on, the core of the future šahrestān grew on the other two hills. The only architectural evidence for this foundation period is the remains of a fortification wall in paḵsa (blocks made of clay mixed with chopped straw) which presumably encircled an area of approximately 2 ha. Until the IV century CE, archaeological information to trace urban history is insufficient, but an evident major break has been detected in the citadel between the I century BCE and the I century CE: a layer of wind-borne sand covers the defense wall, probably marking a period of desertion of the site or a rather long period of time during which the settlement was not fortified. On this layer a new fortification wall was built between the end of the IV and the V century CE.

    From this time on, the lower town underwent a remarkable transformation and enlargement, gradually taking on the form of the early medieval town. By the VII-VIII centuries CE the šahrestān occupied a rectangular area of nearly 21 ha, 120 m east of the citadel; on the west side, there were four gates set at regular intervals; on each of the other three sides there was only one central gate. As in other Sogdian towns (Paykend and Penjikent, for example), the šahrestān of Bukhara was the result of the progressive enlargement of the settlement, which here took place in two main stages: the earliest sector (V century CE) corresponds to the northern half (8-11 ha) bordered on its southern edge by the river; during the VI century CE also the sector (7-8 ha) extending south of the first šahrestān was also encircled by a fortification wall (on the east, south, and west sides). The entire lower town probably had a regular layout consisting of a grid of rectangular blocks of buildings (somewhat smaller in the southern šahrestān). An echo of this can be found in the History of Bukhara written in Arabic by the local historian Abū Bakr Muḥammad ibn Jaʻfar Narshakhī in the X century CE, who wrote that the walls of the Bukharan šahrestān were built by order of the Turkic prince Šer-e Kišwar (identified as Tardu, son of the Türk khagan Istämi) who ruled Bukhara in the second half of the VI century CE.

    Bukhara was not the only major site in the oasis though. Varaḵša was one the major archaeological discoveries made in the Bukhara oasis, and the first to reveal the existence of a Sogdian school of painting. The site is situated on the northwestern edge of the oasis, on the verge of the Kyzyl-Kum Desert and on the route to Khwarāzm. It was identified by scholars with Narshakhī’s Farakhsha already before 1917, and excavations were conducted in the site in 1937 and then again between 1948 and 1954, conducted by the Soviet archaeologist V. I. Shishkin. According to Narshakhī, Varaḵša was “the largest of the villages […] as large as Bukhara but older,” a statement that seems to suggest that, even in its heyday, this fortified settlement did not hold the rank of town.

    Varakhsha-04.jpg

    View of the remanis of the Bukhar Khudahs' palace in Varaḵša.

    Varaḵša was founded possibly in the early first millennium CE, if not before, as Shishkin believed. The excavations, however, shed light mainly on the latest phases of its existence; in particular, Shishkin’s efforts concentrated on the remains of the Bukhar Khudah palace in the citadel. Bukhar Khudah was the title adopted by the local rulers of Bukhara from the VI century CE onwards, and it was in Varaḵša that they built a large palace where Soviet archaeologists found a series of impressive wall paintings that revealed for the first time that during the VI and VII centuries CE a significant Sogdian school of painting appeared and developed out of Bactrian and Indian influences, and which reveals close links with the famous paintings found at Buddhist sites in the Tarim Basin. Rather than in the late V or early VI century CE, as Shishkin thought, the palace was founded in the VII century CE, most probably in its last decades, by will of Khunak Khudah, a sovereign attested also in the coinage. The palace was further expanded and reformed by his son and successor Toghshada (709 – 739 CE), and the latter’s successors Qutayba and Bunyat. The land surrounding Varaḵša, within a radius of about 10 km, is one of the richest sections in archaeological sites in the whole Bukhara oasis, and during the 2000s it was excavated by the Uzbek-Italian Archaeological Mission.

    Varakhsha-01.jpg

    Another great set of Sogdian wall paintings was discovered in the remains of the palace of Varaḵša during the excavations led by the Soviet archaeologist V.I. Shishkin in the 1950s and early 1960s. They decorate the walls of another reception hall, and due to the red background of the scenes, the hall was called "the red hall". These paintings depict the Sogdian deity Adhbag (the Sogdian name of Ahura Mazdā) fighting against the beast of evil. Above you can see a hypothetical reconstruction of the red hall.

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    Detail of one of the murals in the red hall.


    Paykend was the westernmost Sogdian town, located 60 km southwest of Bukhara, at the very southernmost tip of the Bukhara oasis. For archaeologists, it is one of the few Sogdian urban sites that shows an almost unbroken continuity between the late antique and early Islamic periods. Systematic excavations started only in 1981 and are still under course. The first fortified settlement (1 ha) was founded in the III - II century BCE on the hill which later hosted the late antique citadel, but Paykend was not raised to the status of urban center before the late V or early VI century CE. In this period the layout of the lower town took shape. As in Bukhara, it consisted of two adjacent šahrestāns (an eastern one covering 7 ha and a western one that covered 13 ha), separated by a short chronological gap. The street layout, which remained unchanged even after the Arab conquest, subdivided the urban area into blocks of various shapes and sizes. In the citadel, excavations have brought to light a temple (considered by some to be a fire temple, but that’s disputed) and a palace. Excavations in the southeastern corner of the citadel revealed also a “treasury” building (connected with a religious building) which included a number of remarkable items that seem to have been gathered over a long span of time: coins, bullae, and elements of armor and weaponry.

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    Remains of the walls of Paykend.

    According to Narshakhī, another major center was Vardāna, the seat of the Vardan Khudah. The ruins of this town (which, according to Narshakhī, was older than Bukhara and defended by a strong city wall) have been identified with the site of Vardanzeh. Extending over a nearly rectangular area of 11 ha, Vardanzeh clearly shows the outline of a rectangular fortified citadel (at the northeastern end) and a lower town; the latter (as at Bukhara and Paykend) probably consisted of a double šahrestān; the first adjacent to the southwestern side of the citadel and of a regular rectangular shape, the second farther to the southwest, probably resulting from the progressive and unplanned agglutination of different built-up areas. Since 2000, it’s been under excavation by the Uzbek-Italian Archaeological Mission.

    Both Narshakhī’s History of Bukhara and the excavations carried out in the Bukhara oasis have allowed archaeologists and scholars to get a much more detailed image of the outlay of Sogdian society and culture. As in the Iranian Plateau, Sogdian society was ruled by an aristocratic elite that ruled from fortified citadels and castles and who derived their wealth mostly from agriculture. Khudah in Sogdian meant precisely “lord”, and the references to several such “lords” within the Bukhara oasis by Narshakhī points towards a “feudal” organization of the society; what’s unclear in the case of Bukhara is how to reconcile this with the fact that coinage attests to a unified minting authority from the IV century CE onwards; and the same can be said about the very long wall that surrounded the oasis and the dense network of irrigation canals; these infrastructures could only have been built and maintained if there was a single political authority ruling over the whole oasis.

    Excavations in Samarkand and the Bukhara oasis, as well as the works of Narshakhī and several other early Islamic historians have also allowed scholars to get a better understanding of the religious landscape of Sogdiana. The majority of the population followed the traditional Iranian religion, which could also be described as a local version of Zoroastrianism that was not influenced by the religious reforms that had been implemented by the Sasanian dynasty in Iran and by the teachings of the established Zoroastrian religious hierarchy of the Sasanian empire. This religion seems to have been centered mostly around the veneration od deities associated with agriculture and water and the performance of rituals associated with the agrarian calendar. From the V century CE onwards, Sogdiana entered a period of exponential growth and great economic dynamism associated with an increase of the volume of trade that ran through the “Silk Road”, and accordingly the religious scenario in Sogdian cities became much more diverse. The local version of Zoroastrianism continued as the majoritarian religion, but in the growing commercial centers, large communities of Jews, Nestorian Christians and Manicheans appeared. But curiously enough, Buddhism failed to expand into Sogdiana, despite the fact that Sogdian territories were the necessary terrestrial link between the great Buddhist centers in Gandhāra and Bactria on one side and the Tarim Basin and China in the other, where Buddhism was growing and spreading. All the Chinese pilgrims that traveled to India crossed Sogdiana, but all of them agreed (as archaeology corroborates) that the presence of Buddhism was at the very best testimonial in this country.

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    One of the deities venerated in the Sogdian religion was Nana, a goddess of Mesopotamian origin whose cult reached Central Asia during Achaemenid times. Here you can see her depicted in a silver bowl with obvious Sasanian influences.

    As it can be seen from what I’ve written above, Sogdiana shared many cultural traits with Iran, and one of these traits was a common legendary background. The mural paintings from Afrāsīāb, Varaḵša and Panjikant depict scenes that appear also in Ferdowsī’s Šāh-nāma, which shows that the Iranian Sogdians shared the same myths and heroes with the Iranian populations within Ērānšahr. One of the characters of Ferdowsi’s epic, Siyāvaš, was venerated in Sogdiana (and in Khwarāzm) and its inhabitants performed rituals and sacrifices dedicated to him. According to the Soviet historian Sergey P. Tolstov, Siyāvaš would’ve been venerated as the Central Asian god of dying and reviving vegetation. And within Iran proper, the murder of Siyāvaš is commemorated in Širāz in Fārs as the day of Savušun still to this day.

    Panjikant was a Sogdian city whose remains are located in the southern periphery of the present-day city of Panjakent in western Tajikistan. At the beginning of the VIII century CE Panjikant was the main settlement of the Panč district, a fact reflected in its name. Some scholars hold that Panjikant was could be identical to the city of Bo-xi-te named in Chinese sources of the Tang dynasty and consider it to be identical with the capital of the principality of Māymorḡ, mentioned by that name in Chinese histories from the Tang period, and which would have been located to the south or southeast of Samarkand, but this identification is quite dubious.

    Panjikent-01.jpg

    View of the remains of Panjikant.

    Panjikant was the easternmost city of Sogdiana proper. Further to the east, across the valley of the river Kshtut, lay Pārḡar, which at least in the IX - X centuries CE and perhaps even earlier was part of Osrušana. In the early 8th century it was within the domain of prince Dēwāštič (708? – 722 CE), ruler of Panjikant. The Panjikant of the V - VIII centuries CE is known primarily from extensive archaeological excavations, while the scarce information about the relatively short period of Dēwāštič’s rule is derived mostly from documents found in the remains of the fortress at Mount Moḡ. In 721 – 722 CE Dēwāštič claimed the title of “king of Sogdia and lord of Samarkand”. The Arabs initially recognized his new title, but soon forced him to flee to Pārḡar, and later to the castle on Mount Moḡ, where he was finally captured; excavations in this site have yielded a large number of documents dated to the Arab siege of the fortress and which are commonly known as the “Sogdian letters”. After holding him prisoner for a few months, the Arabs executed him and Panjikant had no more native rulers.

    Panjikent-06.gif

    Map of the ancient Sogdian city of Panjikant. It was not a big city, but it has become famous due to the fact that it has been intensively excavated and that it was abandoned some fifty years after the Islamic conquest, which has allowed archaeologists to get a very good impression of an ancient pre-Islamic Sogdian city. This, and the documents of Mount Moḡ give us a very vivid impression of ancient Panjikent in the eve of the Arab conquest.

    The site of Panjikant has been extensively excavated since 1937. After more than half a century of systematic archaeological investigations, Panjikant has become one of the most thoroughly studied late antique cities not only in Sogdia, but in Asia as a whole. The excavations show that this city, situated on the rim of a high terrace overlooking a fertile, well-irrigated valley, was founded in the V century CE and was inhabited until the 770s.

    Its citadel is separated by a ravine from the šahrestān or lower city, which lies to the east of the citadel and is surrounded by fortified walls of its own. Two additional walls cross the ravine, linking the šahrestān with the citadel, and creating a unified defensive system around the entire city. The central structure of the citadel is a fort with a square array built close to the northern part of a mountain ridge, which runs from south to north. In the end of the VII or the early VIII century CE, a square keep was erected in the southeast corner of the fort. At the foot of the fort and to the north of it lies the lower fortification, watered by a natural spring. It shows traces of habitation from the II century BCE to the I century CE. This cultural layer contains remnants of ceramics, but none of buildings. To the south of the fort stood a fortified wall, which defended the citadel against attacks from the top of the ridge. There were no buildings between the wall and the fort. On a hilly site to the east of the fort rose once the richly decorated palace of Dēwāštič, which apparently burned down in 722 CE, probably during the Arab conquest of the city. It was an expansion and an extensive reconstruction of an earlier building, dating from the VI century CE. Another palace from the VI century CE was located in the lower fortifications.

    Panjikent-02.jpg

    Large numbers of wall paintings have been discovered in the remains of Panjikant, depicting a wide array of courtly, religious or mythic scenes. Here you can see a courtely scene; the figure on the left is a Sogdian ruler.

    In the V century CE, the area of the šahrestān (without the citadel) measured about 8 ha. Straight fortified walls defended the settlement: the northern wall running along the rim of the terrace, and the eastern wall perpendicular to it. The southern wall ran straight only where the terrain permitted, and the western wall followed the irregular edge of the hill, departing from the overall regular design. The city walls of Panjikant in the V century CE were ten to eleven meters high, bristling with numerous towers, and punctured by embrasures in a chessboard pattern. Later, the walls were made thicker, with fewer towers, a sloping façade, and no embrasures close to the foundations. The residential buildings of the city consisted of several small rooms with low wooden ceilings. All walls were made of sun-dried brick and clay. The streets and alleys intersected at right angles. The spot at the city center, where two temples stood, had apparently been reserved for religious purposes since the founding of the settlement.

    Panjikent-temples-02.jpg

    Reconstruction of the two temples in the center of the lower city of Panjikant.

    The architectural style of the temples, which by the beginning of the VIII century CE had undergone many reconstructions, can be traced back to the traditions of Hellenistic Bactria. The two temples are very much alike: each consisted of a central building facing east and surrounded by a yard, which was adjacent to yet another yard to the east, with an exit to the street. A visitor walking from the street towards the main building would have seen the sacred spaces of the two yards open before his eyes one after the other, until, standing in the inner yard, he would have seen not only the portico, but also the interior of the central hall, which opened directly onto the portico of the main building. At the far end of the hall there was a door leading to the cella, and on each side of it two niches with clay statues of divinities. A characteristic feature of these Sogdian temples was their openness to the rays of the rising sun and to the eyes of the laity. The passageways to the corridor, which circumvented the hall and the cella behind it opened onto the portico to the sides of the central hall. Both temples were dedicated to the cult of the gods. A space for the sacred fire was added to “Temple 1” only in the late V or early VI century CE.

    The earliest burials in the necropolis at the edge of the ancient city, with Zoroastrian ossuary burials characteristic of Sogdia and Khwarāzm, are dated to the V and early VI centuries CE. By the end of the V century CE the area of the city had grown to 13.5 ha and new fortifications were built to the south and east, so that part of the old walls was enclosed within the perimeter of the new ones, dividing the city into inner and outer quarters. The walls of the inner city were repaired and reinforced in the VI and VII centuries CE.

    Panjikent-05.jpg

    The paintings from one of the private residences in Panjikant described scenes of the epic cycle of the Iranian legendary hero Rostam, the great hero of Ferdowsī’s Šāh-nāma.

    The two temples contained statues and murals from their foundation. The earliest murals in the palaces of the citadel date from the VI century CE. Some of the houses built during the VI century CE were two stories high, with vaulted ceilings on the lower floor, and murals on the walls of some rooms. However, during the V - VI centuries CE, no building in Panjikant could rival the magnificence of the two temples, and even the houses of the richest residents appeared rather humble in comparison. In the VII - VIII centuries CE, though, it was the houses of the rich that set the tone of urban architecture in the city. The end of the VII century CE and especially the first quarter of the VIII century CE marked the heyday of late antique Panjikant. All residential houses from that period (not only those of the rich, but also of simple well-to-do citizens) were decorated with murals and woodcarvings, and these murals have provided archaeologists with a large amount of information about ancient Sogdiana. These murals contain scenes from the Iranian epic of Rostam (the great hero of the Šāh-nāma), but also from Aesop’s fables, from the Mahābhārata, the Pañcatantra and the Sendebād-nāma (which would later become the stories of Sinbad in The Thousand and One Nights), in a pictorial display of the cosmopolitan tastes of the cities of late antique Sogdiana.

    Keš was another important ancient Sogdian city, located in the upper Kaškā Daryā valley, and corresponds today with the modern town of Shahrisabz in Uzbekistan. To its north, a road leads to Samarkand; the oasis of Naḵšab is located downstream to the west; and to the south there is the Iron Gates Pass that leads to Termeḏ in Bactria. Archeological excavations some 12 km north of Shahrisabz have uncovered the large (70 ha) settlement of Padaytak Tepe that includes the fortress of Uzunqïr. This settlement has been from the VIII century BCE to the Achaemenid period. The town is first mentioned in Aramaic administrative documents from Ḵolm, dated to late Achaemenid times and which deal about the renovation of its walls. In the histories of Alexander the Great’s conquest of Sogdiana, the name Nautaca probably refers to the same region, and the fortress of Sisimithres where Bessos was captured in 329 BCE has been identified with Uzunqïr by the French historian Frantz Grenet. The citadel of the Hellenistic settlement at Keš lies at Kalandatepa, located within present-day Kitab, 5 km to the north of Shahrisabz, and the remains the late antique city (covering a surface of 40 ha) lie nearby.

    Shahrisabz-01.jpg

    View of the site of Shahrisabz.

    Keš figures prominently in dynastic Chinese histories (where it’s named Shi). Its ruler Dizhe, who would’ve ruled between 605 and 615 CE, even announced his vassalage to the Chinese emperor, and his successors sent regular embassies to the courts of the Sui and Tang emperors.

    Early Islamic authors located the principality of Osrušana (also spelled Ustrushana in English) north of Sogdiana proper, between it and the entry to the Ferghana Valley. It was traversed by the main caravan road that linked Samarkand with the Ferghana Valley and further eastwards with the Tarim Basin and China. According to the X century CE Muslim authors Ibn Ḵordāḏbeh and Ibn Ḥawqal, Osrušana was a region comprising plains, (whose fertility, agricultural richness, and pasturelands were praised by said geographers), and hills and, in the south, the Turkestan and Zarafšān mountains which were usually reckoned as belonging to it administratively. These mountains were rich in minerals; and gold, silver, salt, ammoniac, and vitriol were obtained from them and exported; above all, the local iron ore was used to produce tools and weapons that were exported as far away as Khorasan and Iraq.

    These authors described the region as little urbanized, and it long preserved its ancient Iranian feudal and patriarchal society. The main settlement, described by early geographers as the ruler’s residence, was Bunjikaṯ (according to the Ḥodud al-ʿālam). It was identified in 1894 with the locality of Šahrestān, some 25 km from the modern Uzbek town of Ura-Tyube at the entrance to the Ferghana valley. At the time of the Arab conquest, Osrušana was ruled by a local dynasty of Iranian princes, the Afšins, who managed to retain their title and lands for two centuries (until 893 CE) after the Arab conquest after converting to Islam. The most famous of them was the general of the Abbasid caliph al-Moʿtaṣim (833 – 842 CE), the Afšin Ḵayḏar or Ḥaydar ibn Kāvus. Osrušana was one of the Sogdian principalities that put up a strongest resistance to the Arab invaders, and the Tangshu also records its sending of several embassies to the Tang court asking for military help.

    Bunjikant-01.jpg

    Fragment of a wall painting found in the remains of Bunjikaṯ. It is dated to the early Islamic era, and it shows the persistence of Sogdian-Iranian traditional religion and artistic tradition after the Arab conquest.

    Another important city located at the entry of the Ferghana Valley was Khujand, which is today a city in northwestern Tajikistan located on the middle course of the Syr Daryā River, about 150 km south of Tashkent. The origins of Khujand are obscure, but archeological evidence indicates the existence of an urban center there as early as in the VI to V centuries BCE. Alexander the Great appears to have built a city, called Alexandria Eschate (Alexandria the Furthest), near or encompassing the site of the present city during his campaigns in the region in 329-327 BCE, and some scholars identify it with Khujand. The city first appears under its current name in early Arabic and New Persian sources as Ḵojanda. According to Tabarī, the city fell to the Arabs in 713 CE, but it rebelled and was besieged for a second time by the Umayyad army in 722 CE; after storming it the Arabs burned the city and massacred its inhabitants.

    As for the Ferghana Valley itself, it was never a part of the Achaemenid empire and there’s no convincing proof that Alexander the Great ever conquered it. Archaeology has found no evidence for urban centers in the valley for the Achaemenid and Hellenistic eras, and Ferghana only enters the accounts of written history until it was invaded by the army of the Han emperor Wudi in 104 – 101 CE. Despite the lack of written accounts, the material culture shows similarities to that of other contemporary Eastern Iranian peoples of Central Asia, and so historians believe that the original population of the valley was of Iranian stock (still today, part of the valley’s population is Tajik).

    Fergana-Valley-01.jpg

    Landscape view in the Ferghana Valley.

    Unlike Sogdiana, ancient Ferghana had no coinage of its own. Finds of Chinese coins, mirrors, and textiles are more frequent in Ferghana than in the neighboring lands. This testifies to its well-established links with China. After the beginning of the Common Era though the influence of other Central Asian cultures on Ferghana became markedly stronger, especially in burials. The variety of burial customs probably reflects the co-existence of several different ethnic groups of nomads and semi–nomads, the tribes of the so-called Kaunchi culture. These originated most probably from Čāč and later gradually penetrated into the Ferghana Valley. In general, however, the culture of Ferghana still preserved at that time many of its original features. Several local variants of this culture have been identified by archaeologists. Fortified rural estates, “castles” with bastions and arrow slits, are characteristic of this period (similarly to Sogdiana). Often they are surrounded with a settlement, and the architecture of the fortified buildings finds very close parallels in Sogdiana and the Iranian Plateau, although at the same time local pottery is noticeably different from Sogdian pottery. Like other Central Asian settled lands, the IV-Vi centuries CE show a marked decrease in the number of settlements, but unlike in Sogdiana, it seems that recovery in the Ferghana Valley took a longer time. This period also witnessed the first appearance of burials according to the Turkic custom after the valley was annexed by the Türk Khaganate in the VI century CE. Some of the VIII century CE rulers of Ferghana were of Turkic origin (same as it happened further south in Sogdiana proper).

    According to the Chinese pilgrims that crossed the valley, the population of Ferghana spoke its own dialect in the late antique period, different from Sogdian. But at the same time archaeological sites of the VII - VIII centuries CE reflect the spread of Sogdian culture and language; local coins, in particular, display Sogdian legends. Sogdian customs, such as ossuary burials, were also adopted in Ferghana. In the suburbs of the ancient city of Kuva, several houses and a temple dating to the VII to early VIII centuries CE have been discovered. The architecture, pottery, and the clay sculpture are very close to Sogdian patterns. The temple was first thought to be a Buddhist shrine as the iconography of its sculpture revealed distinct Indian features, but similar features, however, are present in the iconography of the native Sogdian gods (as in Panjikant). According to the German scholar Markus Mode, the temple was dedicated most probably to the Sogdian equivalent of Ahura Mazda, represented as the Indian god Indra.

    Written sources dealing with pre-Islamic Ferghana are very scarce, but both them and coins found in Kuva seem to prove that Ferghana was divided into several principalities since at least the III to IV centuries CE, even if there was some sort of supreme ruler there, titled “the King of Ferghana” as mentioned in one of the Sogdian documents from Mount Moḡ as well as in the chronicles of the Arab conquest.
     
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    7.9 KHWARAZM.
  • 7.9 KHWARAZM.

    And at last we’ve reached the final stage of our trip across the lands that bordered Ērānšahr to the east. The tour ends in one land that is quite unknown among the general public but that played a quite important part in the ancient story of the Iranian peoples and the dawn of the Zoroastrian tradition.

    Khwarazm is the English transcription of an Iranian name that has been written down and pronounced in different ways across history in several Iranian and non-Iranian languages. In Avestan, the name of this land is Xᵛāirizəm; in Old Persian it’s Huwārazmiš and in New Persian it’s Xvārazm. Herodotus transcribed it as Chorasíma (Χορασίμα) in V century BCE Attic Greek, which later became Chorasmía (Χορασμία) in Hellenistic Greek, which was transcribed as Chorasmia in Latin. Khwarazm had its own Iranian language, Khwarazmian, which has now disappeared, being supplanted by Turkic languages. But it’s one of the best known ancient Iranian languages because one of the greatest polymaths of the first centuries of Islam, Abū Rayḥān Bīrūnī, who was a native of this land and wrote a grammar of his mother tongue in the early XI century CE. He was followed in the late XII century CE by another native Khwarazmian, Abū al-Qāsim Maḥmūd ibn ʿUmar Zamaḵšarī, who left us in a manuscript a large collection of Khwarazmian vocabulary. It’s mostly transcribed into English as Khwarazm or Khorezm, and it can also be found quoted as Horezm (after its usual spelling in Russian).

    In a broader sense, the historical region of Khwarazm is in the lower valley of the Āmu Daryā and it’s the largest of the oasis of Central Asia formed by an internal riverine delta, as you can see in the following map:


    Inner-Eurasias-desert-oases.png

    Map of Central Asia showing the areas of oasis and mountains, as well as the main water courses and the Steppe Zone.

    The endorheic Aral Sea Basin is one of the lowest topographical points of Central Asia; only the Caspian Sea Basin is topographically lower. Geologists refer to the whole of western Central Asia north of the Iranian Plateau, south of the central Eurasian Steppe and between the Tian Shan/Pamir/Hindu Kush mountain ranges and the Ustyurt Plateau as the Turanian Basin or the Turanian Plain. This is a very flat stretch of land which is still geologically active; to the south the Arabian tectonic plate pushes continually towards the northeast, which has caused the uplifting of the Iranian Plateau and the mountain ranges that surround it, while the Turanian Basin (which was once the seabed of the Thetis Sea) is also being uplifted but at the same time it’s also continuously tilting towards the northeast.

    The combination of active tectonics, very arid climate and two large rivers carrying large amounts of water with sediments means that since the formation of the Syr Daryā and Āmu Daryā rivers (as well as the other “minor” Central Asian rivers like the Zarafšān, Murghab, Balḵāb, etc.), they have changed course multiple times, even during historical times, which implies that any sort of geographical/historical description of Khwarazm is going to be a tricky affair. Due to the flat terrain, the rivers can change course repeatedly due to a series of factors:
    • Geological movements. Generally speaking, the Turanian Basin is being slowly uplifted while being tilted towards the northeast; in pre-Holocene times the Āmu Daryā flowed much further to the south than its current course (in a straight east-west course, emptying directly into the Caspian), and it has been migrating gradually towards the northeast across the millennia. Small earthquakes can also cause sharp changes in the river courses.
    • Riverine erosion. On one side, rivers erode their beds and tend to carve ever-deeper valleys into the terrain through which they flow, but at the same time they also drop the sediments they carry into the bottom of their bed if their flow becomes slow enough. If they carry large amounts of sediments, this slow accumulation of sediments in the slower parts of a riverine current can cause the bottom of a river’s bed to become high enough that its water overflows and is diverted to another course. This is especially marked in the river deltas, which are of course the part of the river where the flow is at its slowest point and where the water carries the maximum amount of sediments. This happens to an extreme degree in both the Āmu Daryā and Syr Daryā deltas; especially because not only do they carry lots of sediments from their upper valleys (and the upper valleys of their tributaries) where their waters flow at high speed and erode the mountains through which they pass, but because they cross vast stretches of desert, and there they take large amounts of sand and dust both from their banks and from wind and sand storms.
    • Human activity, which as archaeology has shown during the XX and XXI centuries has had a considerable impact in both rivers’ valleys (but especially in the Āmu Daryā) already during ancient and medieval times. Specifically, the diversion of large amounts of water for irrigation has altered more than once dramatically the landscape, because the building of several dams in the Soviet era a lower amount of water arriving to the delta meant an increased rate of sedimentation in the lower valley, which could lead in turn to overflows, floods and dramatic riverbed changes.
    These factors are the same that influence riverbed movements in similar environments in other parts of the world, like Mesopotamia or Sistān, but it’s perhaps here in the lower valleys of the two great Central Asian rivers where its effects are more noticeable. In the image under these lines, you can see to the left a satellite picture of what was left of the Aral Sea in the early 2000s, the darkish area to its south is the irrigated cropland of the Khwarazmian oasis; the course of the Āmu Daryā is clearly visible; the much smaller and lighter area to the north is irrigated cropland in the delta of the Syr Daryā. In the map to the right, you can see the several “deltas” that actually exist or have existed in the vicinity of the Aral Sea:

    Aral-deltas-01.png


    The Lower and Upper Akcha Daryā, Lower Āmu Daryā and Sarykamysh deltas are the deltas that are usually included within historical Khwarazm, but the irrigated “oasis” actually starts quite upstream from the delta, as you can see in the satellite image. Now, let’s add yet another layer of confusion: not all these deltas are active now, some are “dead” now, and in some cases they appear and disappear due to environmental changes. Nowadays, the Akcha Daryā deltas are waterless and lie under the sands of the Kyzyl Kum Desert, and the Lower Āmu Daryā delta is also dry due to the diversion of large amounts of water from the river for irrigation. But puzzlingly, the Sarykamysh delta, which was “dead” when the Russians conquered the area in the XIX century, has revived to some degree, and the Sarykamysh Lake (the dark blue spot on the bottom left part of the satellite picture) is filling up again with water, as it has done intermittently across the centuries.

    The Āmu Daryā is the largest river in Central Asia, both in length and in flow. It runs for 2,400 km and its drainage basin covers an area of 534,739 km2. The river is navigable for over 1,450 km. All of the water that it carries comes from the high mountains of the Hindu Kush, Pamir and associated minor ranges, which act as a barrier that intercepts the humid monsoon winds that blow north from the Indian ocean, collecting their atmospheric moisture before it reaches Central Asia. Without its mountain water sources, the Āmu Daryā would not contain any water because it rarely rains in the lowlands through which most of the river flows. Of its total drainage area only about 200,000 km2 actively contribute water to the river, because many of the minor rivers in its basin have been diverted or fail to reach the banks of the Āmu Daryā before they dissipate into the deserts of the steppe, and much of the river's drainage is arid. Throughout most of the arid lands that it crosses, annual rainfall is only about 300 mm.

    Āmu Daryā is a New Persian term; daryā means literally “sea” but also applies to any large body of water, while the origin of the term Āmu is unclear; it could come from the medieval name of Āmul, a city in the middle valley of the river which was a major crossing point across the river between Iran and Central Asia in ancient times (it corresponds to the modern Turkmen city of Türkmenabat). In the Avesta, the Āmu Daryā is called Yakhsha or Vakhsha, from where derive its Greek (Ὦξος; Ôxos) and Latin (Oxus) names. Incidentally, in the Avesta the Syr Daryā is called Yakhsha Arta (meaning “Upper Yakhsha”), from whence the Classical Greek and Latin name for the river (Yaxartes). In Middle Persian sources of the Sassanian era the river is known as Wehrōd, which means literally "good river", and it was known to medieval Islamic geographers as Jayḥūn. The term Āmu Daryā is only attested in written sources from the XVI century onwards.

    To the east of Khwarazm, between the Āmu Daryā and the Syr Daryā there’s the Kyzyl Kum Desert (“red sands” in Turkic) and to the south, on the southern bank of the Āmu Daryā, and standing between Khwarazm and the Alborz and Kopet Dag mountains that form the northern escarpment of the Iranian Plateau lies the Kara Kum Desert (“black sands” in Turkic). To the west, the Aral Sea Bain is separated from the Caspian Sea Basin by the Ustyurt Plateau, a vast limestone highland of rocky desert that covers an area of 200,000 km2 with a medium altitude of 150 m above sea level.

    Ustyurt-Plateau-Map-01.png

    Map of the Ustyurt Plateau. It acts as a gigantic uplifted obstacle that separates the Aral and Caspian basins and prevents the Āmu Daryā and Syr Daryā from flowing further to the west.

    Ustyurt-01.jpg

    Landscape of the Ustyurt Plateau.

    Today, most of ancient Khwarazm lies within Uzbekistan and a smaller part within Turkmenistan. Modern administrative terms add to the confusion; because within Uzbekistan there’s a region (viloyat) called Xorazm, but it only covers a small part of ancient Khwarazm, it’s located in its entirety on the southern bank of the Āmu Daryā, sandwiched between the river to the northeast and the border with Turkmenistan to the southwest. Actually, most of the territory of ancient Khwarazm within the borders of the modern state of Uzbekistan lies within the autonomous Republic of Karapalkastan; the rest of ancient Khwarazm is included within the Daşoguz region of Turkmenistan.

    uzbekistan-administrative-map.jpg

    Administrative divisions of Uzbekistan; the number 5 corresponds to the viloyat of Xorazm.

    Khwarazm was the scenario of one of the most remarkable archaeological research campaigns of the XX century, the Khorezmian Archaeological-Ethnographic Expedition of the Academy of Sciences of the USSR that lasted from 1937 to 1991, being interrupted only by WWII. Centered in the oasis of Khwarazm, its members explored more than 1,000 archaeological sites in Central Asia and in the specific case that interests us, it brought back into light the ancient civilization of Khwarazm, that was completely ignored by archaeologists and historians until then, except for the meager historical accounts left by Bīrūnī about the pre-Islamic history of his native land. Between 1937 and 1976, the Expedition was directed by its founder, the archaeologist and ethnographer Sergey Pavlovich Tolstov (1907 – 1976), a towering figure of Soviet archaeology. The Khorezmian Expedition pioneered multi-disciplinary work using a wide range of methods and techniques, some of them traditional and some of them rarely used until then in archaeological and historical studies. In addition to the standard archaeological methods of field survey and excavation, the expedition systematically used aerial photography, flying at least two airplanes from 1946 onwards. This resulted in the biggest archive anywhere in Eurasia of aerial photographs taken specifically for archaeological purposes. The Khorezmian Expedition also included architects, physical anthropologists, soil scientists and topographers. From 2012 to 2015, the mammoth archive of the Khorezmian Expedition, which is located in Moscow, was digitized in an international project funded by a German foundation and is now accessible online at the Khorezmian Expedition Archive [http://photo.iea.ras.ru/khorezm]. Among the several books that Tolstov wrote, In the Footsteps of the Ancient Civilization of Khorezm (published in 1948, and later translated into English) showcased at the time of its release this remarkable new way of writing history.

    Khorazmian-Expedition-02.jpg

    An airplane of the Khorezmian Expedition at work in 1949.

    The result of this innovative multi-disciplinary approach was a comprehensive study of the ancient Khwarazmian civilization that went much further than usual historical and archaeological studies centered only around political, cultural, religious and artistic history: it included all these approaches and also aimed at understanding the material foundations behind ancient Khwarazmian civilization; most remarkably its ancient irrigation system but also its social structure, the organization and distribution of settlements, the relationship between nomadic and sedentary populations, the evolution of the ecosystem and other aspects that had been previously ignored by historians and archaeologists. Tolstov recruited for the Expedition specialists in very diverse fields; among them one of the most outstanding was Boris Andreyevich Andrianov (1919 – 1993), a specialist on ancient irrigation, and a pioneer in the use of aerial photography who published in 1969 his book Ancient Irrigation Systems of the Aral Sea Area, a groundbreaking book in its field which has been translated into English and published recently.

    Of course, the drying up of the Aral Sea and the environmental catastrophe that it has brought upon its shores (including the northern part of the Khwarazm oasis) due to human action has also generated a huge amount of studies from the early 1990s until now that have shed much light onto the natural environment of Central Asia and particularly its hydrology, and the effects that human activities (that is, irrigated agriculture) has had upon it not only during the Soviet era and the present, but also in ancient times. These post-Soviet studies have been conducted not only by Uzbek academics, but also by researchers from Russia, France, Australia and other countries, and have picked up the lead where the Soviet researchers dropped it when the USSR collapsed.

    Already in the early days of the Khorezm Expedition, it was noticed that the shores of the Aral Sea (except to the west, where the Ustyurt Plateau drops precipitously to the Aral depression through rocky cliffs) were crisscrossed by what could only have been once water courses, that had become dry in the XX century.

    Map-of-Amu-darya-delta-with-ancient-branches-of-the-river.jpg

    Map of the Aral Sea (before it began shrinking in the early 1960s) and the paleo-channels of the Amu Darya and Syr Darya deltas.

    These channels were not active anymore in the sense that they did not carry water on a regular basis, but while some of them still contained some ponds of brackish water and were clearly visible, others were partly or almost completely engulfed by the sand dunes of the Kyzyl Kum and Kara Kum deserts and were only visible from the air. The ones that were still visible or that still contained some water were remembered by the local inhabitants who still called them by their river names. Broadly speaking, there are two main “paleo-channels” in the Āmu Daryā delta. To the northeast there’s the Akcha Daryā, which today is completely dry and has been so for centuries, but it was a major water course in ancient times; its banks are full of remains of ancient agrarian settlements and irrigation canals that are now engulfed by the dunes of the Kyzyl Kum Desert. It was interconnected irregularly at some points during its history with the channels of the Syr Daryā delta to the north, which as you can see in the map above these lines has seen many major centuries during the centuries, and it’s in this regions, which was then a very well-watered area, where the remains of the oldest Neolithic settlements of the Aral Sea basin have been found by archaeologists.

    The other major ancient “variant” of the Āmu Daryā delta was formed by the Daryalik and Daudan channels to the west; they are dry now but anciently they carried water to another depression located directly at the foot of the Ustyurt Plateau. This is the Sarykamysh depression, which has been filled intermittently by the brackish waters of Lake Sarykamysh across the centuries. These two channels of the delta and the intermittent nature of Lake Sarykamysh have been studied during the last thirty years in hydrological studies that have brought about a new understanding of the nature of the Aral Sea basin, both its physical features and what the statements in old written sources that have puzzled historians for a long time.

    The-fluctuating-Aral-Sea-01.png

    Another map of the Aral Sea at maximum extent with the Āmu Daryā and Syr Daryā main channels and the old (now dry) channels mentioned in the text, showing also the Sarykamysh Lake at maximum extent.

    Already during the late XIX and early XX centuries, Russian and European explorers of what was then Russian Turkestan expressed their puzzlement at the physical features that could be observed at the shores of the Aral Sea by anybody with a minimally trained eye in geology and geomorphology: the shores of the Aral Sea showed a series of terraces that could have only been formed by the lake itself when its waters were even higher that their level at that point; the retreat of the waters of the Aral Sea from the early 1960s onwards has revealed that there were several similar terraces underwater that had been unaccounted for until they were exposed to the light again. Hydrologically, this can only have only explanation: since its formation, the Aral Sea has been filling up (proper scientific name: “transgression”) and drying up (proper scientific name: “regression”) repeatedly, and its current regressive episode is just one amongst several. This is also confirmed by written sources: several medieval Muslim sources of the XV – XVII centuries stated very clearly that the Aral Sea back then had dried up, and that the Āmu Daryā “flowed into the Caspian Sea”; the most prominent among these sources is Hafizi-Abru, who was a chronicler and geographer at Timur’s court and wrote about it in 1417.

    Abu al-Ghazi Bahadur (1603 – 1673), who was Khan of Khiva, noted that the Āmu Daryā turned back to the Aral Sea thirty years before his birth (i.e., around 1573); and by the end of the XVI century CE, the Aral Sea had become once again fully filled. In the Russian work A Book of the Great Map, written in 1627, which is a description of the first map of the “entire Moscow state”, the Aral Sea was called “the Blue Sea” with a latitudinal length of 250 versts.

    Where did the waters of the Āmu Daryā go during those two centuries? The written accounts of that era are quite clear about it: they flowed “into the Caspian Sea” and that flow ran through the Uzboy river. The Uzboy river, now dry, is an ancient water course that has carried water intermittently across history. Archaeologists have determined that Lake Sarykamysh was full at ca. 5000 - 4000 cal BP (abbreviation for “calibrated Carbon-14 years before present”) because the upper reaches of the Uzboy were densely settled by ancient humans of the Neolithic Kel’teminar culture. Archaeological data suggests that water flow in the Uzboy decreased during the following Bronze and Early Iron ages, at ca. 4000 - 3000 ka cal BP, and became insignificant in early antiquity. Since then, settlements of the Uzboy area relied on wells and not on the river. An exception was a short period in the IV - V centuries CE when the river reappeared, and the Igdy Kala fortress was built, in order to control the water pass. And according to sources of the late XIV to late XVI centuries, it appeared once more.

    Igdy-Qala.jpg

    Remains of the late Arsacid or early Sasanian fortress of Igdy Kala over the dry bed of the Uzboy river; notice how still today there are some small ponds of brackish water in it.

    Hydrological studies have revealed that Lake Sarykamysh receives water from three sources: local springs that mostly carry rainwater from the neighboring limestone Ustyurt Plateau (though they bring an insignificant amount of water due to the very low pluviometry of the region), water flowing from the Āmu Daryā through the Daudan and Daryalik channels, and water filtered through the subsoil from the irrigated lands of the Khwarazm oasis to the east located at a higher topographical level; this last source is what has caused the lake to reappear again since the earlier 1960s, as Soviet development plans increased considerably the amount of irrigated cropland in the region. When the water level of Lake Sarykamish rises over 54 a.s.l. (abbreviation for “above sea level”), the water spills to the southwest across the divide between the Aral and Caspian Sea basins and flow to the southwest through an expanse of salty marshlands (called solonchaks in Central Asia) and are finally gathered in the upper course of the Uzboy, that negotiates the bottleneck at Igdy where it circumvents the southernmost spur of the Ustyurt Plateau and from there runs west to the Caspian Sea, emptying in Türkmenbaşy Bay in Turkmenistan.

    Things still remain unclear about some points though. Hydrologists have notices since the 1960s that the Uzboy couldn’t have physically carried all the water from the Āmu Daryā as it was before the extension of modern irrigation; back then the river brought to the Aral Sea between 60 and 70 km3 of water and possibly more, while the combined channels of Daryalik and Daudan have a maximum capacity of 20 to 30 km3, and the lower course of the Uzboy has a maximum estimated capacity of 10 km3. So, most of the water that did not reach the Aral Sea anymore must’ve been dissipated in the sands of the Kara Kum Desert or have evaporated in solonchaks. In this respect, it’s important to recall the memories of the first Mughal emperor Babur (the Bāburnāma):

    (…) the Jayḥūn does not flow in any sea but engulfs itself in sands very far downstream of the city of Turkistan.

    Already Tolstov pointed out that these oscillations of the lower course of the Āmu Daryā could’ve been caused not only by natural causes, but also by human action. In 1221, the Mongol army that besieged the Urgench, which was then the capital of Khwarazm, broke down the dam that collected the water of the Āmu Daryā for the irrigation network upstream from the city, and this could’ve caused (apart from a catastrophic flood) major changes in the water courses of the delta, and Timur repeated the action in 1388. Timur’s destruction of the dams and other irrigation works during his military campaigns against Khwarazm are considered now by archaeologists to have been probably the cause for the major regression of the Aral Sea in the XV and XVI centuries and the reappearance of the Uzboy river. Generally speaking, it should be pointed out that historians and archaeologists do seem to resort to manmade causes for these changes, while hydrologists, geologists and other scientists favor natural causes.

    I’ve included this lengthy explanation of the ecological history of Khwarazm and the Aral Sea in order to provide a sense of the key importance of the environment in this part of Central Asia, and how extremely fragile and unstable this environment is with regards to other regions of the world, to an extreme that it’s difficult to fully grasp.

    The first culture attested in Khwarazm is the Neolithic Kel’teminar culture, which is attested at the turn of the third millennium BCE. It was followed by the Bronze Age Suyargan (beginning of the second millennium BCE), Tazabag’yab (middle and late second millennium BCE), and Amirabad (X-VIII centuries BCE) cultures. The last two show links with the Timber Frame and Andronovo cultures of the European steppes to the northwest. Of these two cultures, the Andronovo culture has been linked with the start of the eastward expansion of proto-Indo-European speakers from their urheimat in the Pontic-Caspian steppes that would eventually lead to the formation of the Iranian and Indic branches of the Indo-European language group.

    The archaeological site at Kuyusaĭ-2 in the Āmu Daryā delta has been dated to the XII-XI centuries BCE by the presence of so-called “Scythian” arrowheads and some scholars have argued that the Iranian Scythians were descended from these northern peoples and that Khwarazm could have been the place where they emerged as a distinct people. Pottery vessels found at this site and in nearby ones were brought there from what’s today southern Turkmenistan and northeastern Iran. Discoveries in nearby kurgan burials suggest that the inhabitants’ contacts with their southern neighbors were not peaceful. The burials frequently contained, together with Kuyusaĭ and southern vessels, objects typical of the gear of Scythian mounted soldiers, like sets of arrows, horse harnesses, and objects decorated in the “animal style” typical of Scythian graves. Some historians believe that it’s probable that the range of these southern imports defines the zones raided by the Khwarazmian “Sakas”. The later report of the Greek author Ctesias of Cnidus about the struggle between the Sakas and the Medes for control over Parthia seems, despite its legendary character, to confirm this observation. In this respect, it’s worth pointing out that Strabo also linked the Chorasmians with the Scythian Massagetae. These data come from the research done by the Khorezmian Expedition, but later authors have expressed caution with some of their assumptions, specifically with the use of the terms “Scythian” and “Saka”. Modern Iranologists have pointed out that Old Persian texts from the Achaemenid era employed the term Saka not in an ethnical sense, but in a very broad sense to refer to all the steppe nomads, and later Classical authors just continued this practice, equating “Scythian” with “Saka”, as classical Greeks (specifically the Athenian authors of the V century BCE Herodotus and Thucydides, who became a template that was followed by all following Greek writers) did basically the same and referred to all steppe nomads as “Scythians”, as this people was the most important steppe people they had contact with in the Pontic Steppe.

    Skunkha.jpg

    The Saka king Skunkha, as depicted in the Bīsotūn inscription of Darius I.

    Khwarazm appears first mentioned first mentioned in the Avesta (Yašt 10.14) and in the Bīsotūn inscription of Darius I. It was a territory very closely associated with the Zoroastrian religion in ancient times. For quite a long time, there was even general agreement among the scholars that the homeland of the Aryans, Airyanəm Vaēǰah, was located in Khwarazm. Airyanəm Vaēǰah appears first in a list of Zoroastrian lands ordered from the northwest to the southeast (Vendīdād 1) while conversely, in a survey of the countries of the Arians ordered from the southeast to the northwest Khwarazm is mentioned last (Yašt 10.13-14). Both were said to be “adjacent to Sogdiana”. Airyanəm Vaēǰah was considered the coldest of the countries listed, with only two summer months (Vendīdād 1); later Zoroastrian tradition, however, more closely reflected the realities of the Khwarazmian climate, where there are seven summer and five winter months. According to the Bundahišn (17.5), the sacred fire of Yima (Ādur Xwarrah, meaning literally “sacred fire”) was at first located in Khwarazm and was later transferred to Pārs (or Kābolestān, according to Masʿūdī and other Islamic authors) where it was renamed as Ādur Farnbāg. In the 1950s, some scholars also noticed that there were a large number of correspondences between the Avestan language and the historical Khwarazmian language, as it was recorded by medieval Islamic authors like Bīrūnī, but more recent philological research has established the mutual independence of Avestan and Khwarazmian. Today, almost no researcher cares much anymore about the geographical location of the mythical homeland of the Aryans, but the current trend is to locate this mythical homeland further to the west, in the area of the Pamirs and the Hindu Kush.

    The members of the Khorezmian Expedition used the results of their extensive studies across the Khwarazmian landscape to reconstruct the history of this Central Asian territory; much of the general lines of this narrative were set up by Tolstov himself in his books. But although the Expedition has left us an invaluable archive of field findings, excavations and exhaustively detailed topographical plans and thousands of photographic pictures, their reconstruction of ancient Khwarazm has come under criticism in some respects. For starters, there are unavoidable ideological issues. Tolstov himself was a committed Communist (or at least he faked the part very well) and had a very good rapport with Stalin’s regime and its successors. The Soviet state itself had its own interests in fostering the Khorezmian Expedition, because it provided a theoretical foundation for its own development plans in Central Asia (they could present them as a regaining and improvement of the old grandeur of the region) and Tolstov also provided them with an added bonus, as the grand narrative for Khwarazmian history that he provided in his 1948 and 1960 books adhered strictly to Marxist dogma: the historical evolution of Khwarazm in Tolstov’s works followed almost canonically the Marxists stages: from hunter-gatherers to Neolithic farmers, to a slave-based ancient society, to a feudal one … and finally to Soviet socialism. In return for Tolstov’s adherence to Marxist dogma and the usefulness of the Expedition’s work for Moscow’s Central Asian policies, the Soviet state provided Tolstov and his colleagues with plentiful funding and support, that they put to good use.

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    Soviet archaeologist and ethnographer Sergey Pavlovich Tolstov (1907 – 1976).

    During the Cold War, the work of the Khorezmian Expedition was mostly ignored in the West and with some isolated exceptions western scholars either deliberately or due to other reasons (mostly the lack of English translations) were unaware of this remarkable effort. Everything changed after 1991 with the collapse of the USSR; even if the Expedition itself was terminated, the works of Tolstov and other members of the Expedition were translated into foreign languages and the new Central Asian governments tried to palliate the loss of Soviet funding by agreeing to joint, smaller archaeological campaigns with researchers from Western countries, especially France and Australia in the case of Khwarazm; Russian researchers also returned to the terrain after the initial years of post-Soviet chaos in Russia had abated somewhat.

    But of course, this new generation of researchers had no reason to adhere to Marxist ideological principles, and soon the interpretations of Tolstov and his colleagues began to be questioned, especially his rigid division of Khwarazmian history in time periods that parallel the stages of social evolution according to Karl Marx’s theories.

    I will now try to put together a short overview of Khwarazmian history up to the fall of the Sasanian empire and the Arab conquest based on the article that Yuri Rapoport, a member of the Khorezmian Expedition, wrote for the Encyclopaedia Iranica in 1994 and which more or less summons up the “official” line of Tolstov and his younger colleagues, and I will contrast it with the criticisms raised by post-1991 researchers that were never part of the Expedition.

    Tolstov and his colleagues of the Khorezmian Expedition aligned the beginning of the archaic era of Khwarazmian culture with the foundation of the first unified kingdom of Khwarazm at the start of the VI century BCE. The main features of this “archaic” (following the terminology that was first established by Tolstov) Khwarazmian culture in the VI and V centuries BCE were the digging of the first large irrigation canals, which reached a length of 10-15 km; the introduction of mudbrick construction; and the use of the potter’s wheel. Khwarazmian pottery of this time shows similarities to the one found in southern Turkmenistan and early Bactria. Migration of some craftsmen and even farmers from those areas to Khwarazm is not ruled out by scholars, especially as a fairly intensive irrigated agriculture, combined with livestock breeding, sprung quite suddenly out of nothing and became a permanent feature of the fertile loess plains of what has sometimes been called a “Central Asian Egypt”. Modern scholars are quite less sure about the existence of a unified kingdom in “archaic” Khwarazm than Tolstov was. No great palaces, capital cities or centralized sacral centers have been found dated to this era, and the main reason why Tolstov and his colleagues hypothesized the political unification of the oasis at this time is the apparition of the first large irrigation canals. But modern archaeologists and historians have pointed out that irrigation canals also existed for example in the Bukhara oasis or in ancient lower Mesopotamia without the need for centralized political control. No local coinage was minted in Khwarazm at this time, and so numismatic evidence, which has proved itself invaluable in similar cases in Central Asia is unable to shed any light on the subject.

    About 400 settlements of the archaic period were recorded within the confines of ancient Khwarazm by the Khorezmian Expedition, but only the ones at Kyuzeli-gyr and Kalaly-gyr have been excavated. The Kyuzeli-gyr site is formed by an “archaic” fortified town with a palace been subjected to serious archaeological study. In the southern part of the palace there was a large open courtyard (800 m2); its walls were lined with broad benches, the most prominent of which was probably the place of the throne. Opposite it, outside the courtyard, there was a brick platform; its top was accessible through a flight of steps. Large accumulations of cinders and white ash around the base of the platform have led archaeologists to suggest that a fire altar could have been situated on top. It’s interesting to note that not a single archaic burial has so far been found in Khwarazm; archaeologists think that probably the practice of interment could have already ceased there by the VI century BCE, perhaps a display of a very early adoption of what became later mainstream Zoroastrian prescriptions.

    Khwarazm was conquered by Cyrus the Great and annexed to the Achaemenid empire. In the Bīsotūn inscription in western Iran it’s mentioned as one of the twenty-three countries that Darius I (r. 521-486 BCE) had inherited from his predecessors. In another of Darius’s inscriptions Khwarazm is mentioned as the source for the turquoise used to decorate his new palace at Susa. Although some scholars have assumed that it was actually the turquoise mines at Nīšāpūr that were meant, many ancient sources of turquoise have been discovered in the lowlands of Khwarazm, in the Sultanuizdag massif, and in the adjacent districts of the Kyzyl Kum Desert. In his list of satrapies established by Darius I, the Greek historian Herodotus included the Chorasmians with the Parthians, Sogdians, and Arians in the sixteenth satrapy. At about the beginning of the IV century BCE, the Aramaic script was introduced in Khwarazm, probably through the mediation of Achaemenid scribes. The last mention of Khwarazm in an Old Persian inscription appears in a tomb attributed to Artaxerxes II (r. 405 - 359 BCE). By that time, the Khwarazmians were no longer subjects but allies of the Achaemenid king. According to Ctesias of Cnidus, already by the end of the V century BCE Khwarazm had become a separate satrapy. Archeological investigations in level I at the site of Kalaly-gyr seem to suggest that Achaemenid rule there ended shortly after the beginning of the IV century BCE. The secession of Khwarazm from the Achaemenid empire seems to be clear in the archaeological record; furthermore, no Khwarazmian contingent is listed in Classical sources as having been part of the army with which Darius III fought against Alexander the Great in 334 - 331 BCE, while Greek historians stated clearly that Khwarazmian contingents took part in the army with which Xerxes invaded mainland Greece.

    After Darius III’s defeat, the Khwarazmians seem to at first have supported Bessus and his allies against Alexander, but finally they decided to submit to the Macedonian king, and a Khwarazmian delegation sent by a certain “Pharasmanes, ruler of the Chorasmians” appeared in Maracanda (Samarkand) to pay their respects to him. The accounts of Arrian of Nicomedia and Quintus Curtius Rufus are somewhat garbled in this respect, but it seems that Alexander confirmed the Khwarazmian ruler in his post, and his country was never occupied by a Macedonian garrison. The confusing accounts of these classical authors seem to suggest that at the time of Alexander’s conquest of Central Asia Khwarazm was ruled as a unified kingdom, but outside of their accounts (which are accounts written during the I and II centuries CE, between four and five centuries after the reported facts) there’s no evidence either for the existence of Pharasmanes or the existence of a unified kingdom of Khwarazm. With the end of Achaemenid rule, the “archaic period” of Khwarazmian history according to Tolstov ended.

    Following Tolstov’s periodization now the “ancient period” of Khwarazmian history began, which he in turn subdivided further (in chronological order) into a “Kangju period” and a later “Kushan period”. In the IV - III centuries BCE the archaeological evidence shows that Khwarazm experienced a period of great economic and cultural prosperity, attributed by Rapoport to the disappearance of the tributary burden that would have been imposed by the former Achaemenid kings. The irrigation network was radically rebuilt; on the right bank of the Āmu Daryā the length of the main irrigation canals increased two or threefold, sometimes reaching 300 km. There was also an intensive construction of new settlements, towns, and fortifications; on virtually every elevation above the flood plain archeologists have found constructions dating from this period. Pot burials of clean bones begin appearing in the archaeological record around the beginning of the IV century BCE; this type of ossuary (astōdān) predominated in Khwarazm for the next thirteen centuries until the adoption of Islam and spread to other Iranian territories like Sogdiana as the “standard” burial rite among Zoroastrians.

    Ayaz-Kala-01.jpg

    Ayaz Kala is one of the best known Khwarazmian sites. In Turkic, Qala (Kala is the Romanization from Russian) means “fortress” (taken from the Arabic), and at this site there are three complexes dated to different archaeological periods. Aya Kala 1 (on top of the image, located in the higher topographical ground) is dated to the post-Achaemenid period, while Ayaz Kala 2 is dated to the so-called “Kushan” period. The dating of Ayaz Kala 3 is still disputed.

    Ayaz-Qala-01.jpg

    Ayaz Kala 1 stands in the background, while the smaller fort in the foreground is Ayaz Kala 2 (actually, that’s part of the settlement, for in the plain below there’s a larger, unwalled “civilian” settlement.

    The archaeological record also shows that many Khwarazmian settlements were destroyed violently in the II century BCE, probably during the mass migration of steppe tribes that caused also the collapse of the Greco-Bactrian state to the southeast and which brought the nascent Arsacid empire to the brink of destruction. According to Rapoport, possibly the Apa-Sakas (“Water Sakas”) from the Āmu Daryā and Syr Daryā deltas to the north and the Ustyurt Plateau were the ones who invaded Khwarazm. This wave of invasions led to the rise of the Kangju polity centered around the middle valley of the Syr Daryā, with the Kangju themselves being probably part of these groups of steppe nomads that invaded the sedentary settlements to the south of the Syr Daryā. According to the dynastic Chinese chronicles, among the Central Asian countries subject to the Kangju in the I century BCE was Yuexian, which scholars tentatively identify with Urgench, the main Khwarazmian city on the left bank of the Āmu Daryā. The invasions of the II century BCE were followed also by what Tolstov called a certain “barbarization” of the Khwarazmian material and political culture, although some traditional administrative elements continued. Of course, now that more is known about the Kangju than in past decades, it’s evident that there are problems with Tolstov’s and Rapoport’s accounts; as it’s quite clear that the Kangju “state” (if it could be called that) was not in any way a bureaucratic state comparable to the Han empire, ancient Egypt or the Sasanian empire, and that if Kangju rule was applied in Khwarazm in a similar way as in Sogdiana, this means that local rulers must’ve had a huge degree of internal autonomy; while once more it must be stated that it’s virtually impossible to ascertain if Khwarazm at this time was a unified polity or not.

    The first Khwarazmian coins were struck about the turn of the I century BCE, in imitation of the tetradrachms of Eucratides, the last Graeco-Bactrian king. This first monetary issue happened very near in time with the beginning of the Khwarazmian Era, which has been dated to the 30s of the I century CE. This Khwarazmian calendar, derived from the Zoroastrian calendar, would remain in use for the next eight centuries until the adoption of the Islamic calendar. Its introduction seems to have been linked with the end of Kangju rule and the establishment of an independent dynasty. This new period of Khwarazmian history was confusingly named by Tolstov as the “Kushan period”; this was an unfortunate name choice because if there are some theories that Khwarazm was incorporated into the Kushan empire, this seems to be refuted by the numismatic evidence; there was no interruption in the local minting of silver coins, and many Kushan coins found in the oasis bear Khwarazmian overstrikes, often obliterating the portraits of the Kushan kings. In the middle of the I century CE substantial changes began to appear on Khwarazmian coins, particularly the adoption of the Aramaic script for the legends in place of what had become by then barely readable Greek characters. Unfortunately, the name of the king who initiated this practice (and who was probably the first independent king of the new dynasty) has not been preserved on the coins.

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    Coin of Artav (local form of the Parthian name Ardavān, Latinized as Artabanus, name of several Arsacid kings); dated to the I century CE. On the obverse, Artav appears crowned by Nike (the goddess of victory in Greek lore); on the background, what’s assumed to be the king on horseback; the sign by the horse’s runt is a tamgha, a sign used by Central Asian nomads (of all ethnicities, it appears in Iranian, Kushan, Turkic and Mongol cultures) as a clan symbol, and usually employed to brand cattle, but also as a sort of “heraldic” symbol; it’s also displayed in Arsacid and early Sasanian iconography. Horseman and tamgha are surrounded by a legend of what’s by now utterly illegible Greek (it would soon be displaced by Bactrian and Sogdian script). This basic scheme was to be followed by all subsequent Khwarazmian coins until the introduction of Islamic coinage in the late VIII century CE.

    According to numismatic evidence, the second king of the dynasty was Artav (meaning “the just”). He appears to have begun the construction of a new capital, the ruins of which were discovered by Tolstov in 1938 at Toprak-kala in the Ellikkalin district of what was then the Karakalpak Autonomous S.S.R. Like the adoption of a new era, the construction of this vast complex in a previously uninhabited locality was thought by Tolstov to have marked the ascent of a new and independent royal house. The site of Toprak Kala was exhaustively excavated during the Soviet era and has furnished invaluable information about ancient Khwarazm, especially in the part of the walled enclosure occupied by the citadel, inside which there was a palace and five temples. Perhaps this is the moment when modern scholars see believable evidence for a political unification of the Khwarazm oasis, with a unified coinage and what seems for the first time to be some sort of capital settlement. But in any case, I wouldn’t toss out entirely the previous consensus by the Soviet scholars that some sort of centralized political system had been already in place since pre-Achaemenid times. As an example, Boris V. Andrianov noted that the main Akcha Daryā channel, which by this point was an artificial irrigation canal as it no longer carried water naturally, needed to be cleansed of sediments every year after the harvest, and Andrianov and his team (who were experts in hydrology) calculated that every year the waters of the Āmu Daryā would deposit so much silt on the Akcha Daryā’s bed that 40% of the canal would have been filled with it and would need to be dug out. Andrianov and his team calculated that without modern machinery, this work needed a team of at least 2,000 people working non-stop for several weeks, and he concluded that this could only have been affordable with some sort of centralized “state control” over a large enough part of the oasis; otherwise having such a large workforce dedicated solely to this for such a long stretch of time would’ve been impossible to afford for any sort of “feudal” or “tribal” organization.

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    Partial plan of the Toprak Kala complex.

    Precisely, it’s an archaeological finding at Toprak Kala that illustrates best the sort of ideological subtext that permeated the conclusions and writings of the members of the Khorezmian Expedition. Among the documents found in the upper palace of Toprak Kala there were tablets containing lists of soldiers supplied by the heads of Khwarazmian households. According to these documents, the majority of the soldiers seem to have been slaves; the ratios of slaves to free men in four households were 17:4, 12:3, 15:2, and 3:1 respectively. The owner of each slave was carefully recorded, whether the master of the house, his wife, or one of the children.

    Toprak-Qala-05.jpg

    Reconstruction of the Toprak Kala palace and citadel according to Soviet archaeologists Yuri A. Rapoport and Elena E. Nerazik.

    On one side, this finding was immediately taken by Tolstov and his colleagues as support for their Marxist interpretation of history; as ancient Khwarazm at this time would’ve been a perfect example of a slave-based society. The problem with this is that post-1991 scholars have noted that agrarian settlements in Khwarazm dated to these times show no sign of the presence of slavery. There’s no archaeological sign of the sort of large estates typical of southern Italy and Sicily in the late Republic or early Principate, or to the plantations of European colonial empires of the American South. Rural settlements are typical villages that seem to have been inhabited by “free” people, or at least people who had freedom of movement and were not closely watched or confined as stereotypical slaves were. But on another side, the lists from Toprak-kala show some accordance with the works of Classical authors in an important point: they could give some credence to the report by the Roman historian Pompeius Trogus’s about the presence of slaves in the Arsacid army (recorded by his epitomizer Justin), as Khwarazm had very close links with Parthia proper, and the nomadic Dahae from which the Arsacids came inhabited the steppes and deserts between Khwarazm and the Kopet Dag mountains before invading the Iranian Plateau.

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    Reconstruction of the so-called “Throne Hall” at Toprak Kala, according to Soviet archaeologists Yuri A. Rapoport and Elena E. Nerazik.

    Toprak-Qala-07.jpg

    Reconstruction of the so-called “Hall of Kings” at Toprak Kala, according to Soviet archaeologists Yuri A. Rapoport and Elena E. Nerazik.

    The issue of the links of ancient Khwarazm with the Arsacid empire was one that was mostly ignored by the Khorezmian Expedition, and its members have been rightly criticized by post-1991 scholars because of it. Apart from Marxism, the other theoretical corsage to which the conclusions and publications of the Expedition had to agree with (as imposed by the Soviet governments) was Soviet nationalism, and as Iran was a western-aligned country back then, writing about links between ancient Khwarazm and the Arsacid empire that could perhaps have included political control of the Arsacids over the oasis was somewhat to be avoided; the Soviet authorities wanted to present this ancient society as autonomous, or at least having had links only with other territories that were included within Soviet borders. Kangju control over Khwarazm thus was okay, but for the following archaeological period, Tolstov chose the awkward denomination of “Kushan period”, when there’s little or no evidence about Kushan dominance over Khwarazm. But after 1991, this view has come under increasing pressure, and some scholars have gone as far as to propose that at this time Khwarazm could have been under Arsacid rule, perhaps as a tributary kingdom. Of course, the coinage helps little or nothing in this respect, because due to the loose nature of the Arsacid kingdom, most of its sub-kings minted their local coinage (like the kings of Pārs) without interference by the Arsacid court, as long as they did not usurp the “imperial titles” of Great King or King of Kings. But today most scholars consider the fortress at Igdy-Kala on the Uzboy to be of late Arsacid or early Sasanian construction, and this site is located right on the south-western border of Khwarazm. Another important point is that of the ethnical provenance of the Arsacids themselves. According to the Classical authors, Aršak I was a member of the Parni tribe, who were in turn a part of the larger Dahae confederation. The Dahae were “Scythians” (or Sakas, nomads who spoke an eastern Iranian language) who lived in the areas of the Kara Kum Desert east of the Caspian Sea and in the Ustyurt Plateau, and who were the immediate neighbors of the ancient Khwarazmians. Already the archaeologists and ethnographers of the Khorezmian Expedition underlined the close material parallelisms between the sedentary Khwarazmians and their neighboring Saka nomads, and concluded that from a cultural and ethnical point of view the Khwarazmians were mostly Sakas who had adopted a sedentary way of life. Also, the Arsacid ceremonial capital of Nisa (ancient Mithradātkert, founded by the Arsacid king Mihrdāt I) was located on the northern slopes of the Kopet Dag mountains, across the desert from Khwarazm, and it remained the burial place (and perhaps also the ceremonial capital) of the Arsacid kings even after they moved their residence south into the Iranian Plateau and finally into Mesopotamia.

    Kopetdag-mountains-01.jpg

    View of the Kopet Dag mountains looking south from the Turkmen side of the border.

    All the palaces of Toprak Kala were abandoned at the same time, and Tolstov and his colleagues connected this abandonment with the alleged founding in 305 CE of the Afrighid dynasty. The founding of this dynasty that would rule over Khwarazm until the Arab conquest is the first historical event described in Bīrūnī’s history; before the founding of this dynasty all the events that happened in Khwarazm in Bīrūnī’s history belong to the realm of legend, with the mythical Iranian hero Siyāvaš being the legendary founder of Khwarazm exactly 980 years before the time of Alexander the Great. But as usual, things in the archaeological record are not as clear-cut as in written history.

    But the Soviet scholar Vladimir A. Livshits was able to prove, based on discrepancies and contradictions between Bīrūnī’s sources or informants and the findings of the extensive Soviet archeological explorations in Khwarazm, that Bīrūnī was in reality not well informed about the history of Khwarazm before the Arab invasion. For example, Bīrūnī’s “era of Afrīḡ” (used, according to him, to the time of the first Arab incursion led by Qutayba ibn Muslim) does not seem to have left any trace on the numerous inscribed objects found in Khwarazm dated to the time of this supposed era. Livshits also noted how the dates of those few monarchs mentioned on Khwarazmian coins (over 1,000 of which have been recovered) and also mentioned by Bīrūnī in his list cannot be made to fit the “era of Afrīḡ.” So, the Soviet scholar concluded that if this era was actually in use, it must have been unofficial. To Livshits, the evidence of comparative coin-patterns seemed indeed to indicate that, before the ascent of the Afrighids, Khwarazm was within the political sphere of the Arsacids (and not the Kangju), with the start of the official Khwarazmian era being connected with Khwarazm’s independence from Arsacid rule and the rise of a new, independent line of Xvārazm Šāhs.

    Bīrūnī listed twenty-two members of the Afrighid dynasty, allegedly succeeding each other by father-son inheritance and reigning for a total span of 690 years, with an average reign of some thirty-one years. These could be arranged in a list as follows, with the Iranian version of the names (Bīrūnī wrote in Arabic) being the one proposed by the German scholar Eduard Sachau in 1873; after the “reconstructed” Iranian name I will put in brackets the actual Arabic letters that Sachau could read in the two extant manuscripts of Bīrūnī’s work that he worked with. As a warning: medieval Arabic script, like other ancient Semitic scripts (Phoenician, Hebrew, Aramaic, Syriac), was an alphabetic script that omitted vowels:
    • Āfrīḡ (ʾfrḡ)
    • Baḡra (bḡrh)
    • Saḵassak (sḵḵsk)
    • Askaǰamūk I (ʾskǰmwk)
    • Azkāǰavār I (ʾzkʾǰwʾr)
    • Sakr I (sḵr)
    • Sāvoš (sʾwšš)
    • Ḵāmgrī (ḵʾmkry/ḵʾnkry)
    • Būzkār (bwzkʾr)
    • Arṯamūḵ (ʾrṯmwḵ)
    • Sakr II (sḵr)
    • Sabrī (sbry)
    • Azkāǰavār II (ʾzkʾǰwʾr)
    • Askaǰamūk II (ʾskǰmwk)
    • Šāvošfar (šʾwšfr)
    • Torkasbāṯa (trksbʾṯh)
    • ʿAbdallāh (first Afrighid ruler to convert to Islam, ʿAbdallāh was a typical name for converts).
    • Manṣūr
    • ʿErāq
    • Moḥammad
    • Aḥmad
    • Abū ʿAbdallāh Moḥammad, killed in 995 CE (end of the Afrighid dynasty).
    There is a high probability of scribal deformation of what would have been to the copyist totally incomprehensible Iranian names in the case of the first to sixteenth kings: the two manuscripts which Sachau used for his edition date only from the XVII and XIX centuries and both go back to a common lost original. And because of this, the value of the royal names found on inscribed objects is of the highest value for comparative purposes. Unfortunately, the Khwarazmian coinage sheds little light. There is an early break in the series of at least a century and a half; this may well point to an assertion of authority over Khwarazm by the first Sasanians, Ardaxšir I or Šābuhr I, perhaps just before the rise of the Afrighids in 305 CE according to Bīrūnī’s dates. This of course is a matter of great interest to us. In the ŠKZ, Šābuhr I stated clearly that he ruled over Khwarazm, but until now archaeologists have found no reliable proof of direct Sasanian rule over the oasis, and this is indeed a problem. The stop in the local coinage series before 305 CE could indeed point towards a conquest of Khwarazm by the two first Sasanian kings, but it could also be due to other reasons, as these decades also saw the collapse of the last remains of Kangju rule in the Syr Daryā valley and the beginnings of Hunnic expansion in the central Eurasian Steppe and Central Asia. Furthermore, in 305 CE Ērānšahr was under the troubled rule of Hormazd II, who had to deal with the aftermath of Narsē’s western defeat, troubles with the Arabs to the south and internal trouble with the nobility, and this came just after the troubled reigns of Bahrām II and Narsē; in other words it’s quite possible that Sasanian rule in this faraway corner of Central Asia would have slackened by then.

    Bivarsar-ca-late-3rd-4th-century-AD-Tetradrachm.jpg

    This is one of the “kings” that don’t appear in Bīrūnī’s list. According to the legend on this silver tetradrachm, this king was called “Bivarsar (I)” and the coin has been dated by numismatists to between 300 and 350 CE.

    According to Livshits, there is nothing on the coins resembling Bīrūnī’s ʾfryḡ and so it may accordingly be that the naming this first historical line of Xvārazm Šāhs by modern scholars as “Afrighids” is founded on an error, and that such a name never existed in the first place. In general, few of the names on the discovered coins correspond to Bīrūnī’s names; and a Xusrō on coins is not mentioned at all by Bīrūnī. However, there are one or two clear correspondences. The name of the Xvārazm Šāh in the time of the Prophet Moḥammad, Arṯamūḵ, is confirmed. The one at the time of Qutayba’s invasion is given by Bīrūnī as Askaǰamūk (II), son of Azkāǰavār (II); the latter name does appear on a coin as Askatsvar (i.e., the earlier Azkāǰavār I, son of Askaǰamūk I). Askaǰamūk II’s son, Šāvošfar, seems also to appear on coins of the VIII century CE. He could very well be identical with the ruler of Khwarazm, Šao-še-fien, mentioned in the Tangshu as sending an embassy to the Chinese court in 751 CE asking for help against the Arabs.

    The first four centuries or so of Afrighid rule are especially dark. According to Bīrūnī, Afrīḡ built a great fortress called Fīl or Fīr on the edge of the capital Kāt or Kāṯ, a citadel which was undermined and swept away by changes in the flow of the Āmu Daryā in the X century CE; only the vestiges of it could be seen by Bīrūnī in 994 CE. Soviet archeology showed the existence at this time of large-scale agricultural exploitation of the lands of Khwarazm lying along the Āmu Daryā banks and in the Aral Sea delta region, with what look like large fortified rural estates and a complex system of irrigation canals. But reliable information on political events only starts with the Islamic sources after the beginning of the VIII century CE. Naturally, this archaeological evidence was interpreted by Tolstov and his colleagues as the proof that Khwarazmian culture had evolved during the Afrighid period from a slave-based “mode of production” into a “feudal” society, closely following the theoretical Marxist model, but once more post-Soviet historians and archaeologists have challenged this interpretation. For example, they have pointed out that the Afrighid fortified places don’t seem to have been nobiliary residences, but rather fortified places where the agricultural surplus was stored or where the peasant population of the neighboring villages sought refuge in times of danger; almost none of them show remains of permanent buildings inside their walls, and especially not of palatial dwellings. Furthermore, the ones that have been most extensively studied, in the Akcha Daryā region, seem to have been aligned along what must’ve been them the limit of the cultivated lands, and so they formed a line of forts against incursions from the Kyzyl Kum Desert, much like similar fortified limes in the Roman, Sasanian and Chinese empires.

    Archeological materials from the IV - VIII centuries CE provide evidence of considerable cultural change in this period, particularly the latter two centuries. The irrigation network shrank, construction techniques changed, and ceramics became cruder and usually molded, rather than wheel-made. The predominant settlement types were the rural homestead and slightly later also the fortified settlement with a defensive tower. Soviet archaeologists thought that these changes were due, not only to internal social and economic processes, but also to new invasions of Khwarazm by tribes from the region of the Syr Daryā. Nevertheless, archaeological digs at the site of the palace complex at Ayaz Qala have confirmed that traditions of monumental architecture and wall painting remained vital in the V - VII centuries CE. Furthermore, Khwarazmian silver vessels of the VI – VIII centuries CE (clearly influenced as in Sogdiana by the production of similar prestige objects in the Sasanian court) attest to a continued high level of craftsmanship in the region.

    Bowl-V-VIc-03-Siyavush.jpg

    Khwarazmian silver bowl dated to the V – VI centuries CE depicting the mythical Iranian hero Siyāvaš, who according to Bīrūnī was the legendary founder of Khwarazm.

    The capital of Khwarazm during Late Antiquity and the Islamic era until its abandonment in the XVII century was Kunya-Urgench (Köneürgenç in Turkmen; from Kuhna Gurgānj meaning “Old Gurgānj/Urgench” in New Persian), located in Turkmenistan some 30 km to the south of the Āmu Daryā. At the beginning of the I century CE Chinese sources already mentioned the city of Yuegan, which is identified with the city of Gurgānj or Urgench. The remains that can be seen today at ground level belong to the medieval Islamic city that was razed by Genghis Khan and Timur.

    Right on the northern bank of the Āmu Daryā some 80 km upstream of the capital of the Karakalpakstan Republic at Nukus there are the remains of the imposing Chilpik (Shılpıq in Uzbek) dakhma, or “tower of silence” which the members of the Khorezmian Expedition believed could’ve been used as the burial site for the kings of Khwarazm in pre-Islamic times.

    Chilpik-dakhma-01.jpg

    The dakhma of Chilpik.

    The fortress of Gyaur Kala is situated 63 km from Biruniy and 81 km from Nukus. It is located just 80 m from the right bank of the Amu Darya and 1.5 km west of the Sultan Uvays Dag mountains. There exist several other places in Central Asia with this name (for example in Merv) Gyaur Kala is the Turkified version of an Arabic expression that meant originally “fortress of the infidels”, a name used frequently by Muslims to refer to pre-Islamic structures. It was first excavated by Tolstov in 1940 and with much more detail by Y.A. Rapoport and S.A. Trudnovskaya in 1952. It was a large fortress and had an unusual trapezoidal layout. It measured roughly 450 m from north to south and was roughly 200 m wide at the northern end. The site then progressively narrowed to the south, the south-western wall appearing to curve to follow the bank of the river. Today, only the northern wall and part of the north-west corner remain. Even so, the northern wall is preserved in parts up to 15 m high.

    Gyaur-Kala-01.jpg

    Schematic plan of Gyaur Kala.

    The fort appears to have been constructed during the IV century BCE. Its objective must’ve been to guard and control the important Āmu Daryā trade route at it crossed the southern border of Khwarazm. It must have been an impressive site when viewed by vessels sailing down the Āmu Daryā. The fort continued in use until the III – IV centuries CE during which modifications were still being made to the fort.

    Gyaur-Kala-02.jpg

    View of the northern wall of the fortress (the only one still standing).

    The fort was surrounded by a double mud-brick wall built upon a plinth of compacted clay or pakhsa, designed to defend the lower section of the wall against attacks by battering rams. The outer walls contained two tiers of embrasures, the space between the walls being vaulted to support the upper archers' gallery. The upper archers' gallery was roofed with wooden beams, reeds and clay. At the very top of the wall was an open topped gallery, protected by battlements. The walls were reinforced with towers along each flank and at each corner, the corner towers arranged in an early "dovetail" pattern. The towers were three stages high, aligned with the levels within the walls.

    Gyaur-Kala-03.jpg

    Drawing by Soviet archaeologists showing the construction of the walls of the Gyaur Kala fortress.

    The space enclosed by the outer walls was in turn separated into two large courtyards by a dividing wall. The southern enclosure was devoid of buildings and may have been used for billeting mounted troops or to set up temporary dwellings such as tents. The northern enclosure however contained a monumental building in its north-western corner. In turn, this building contained a "guest hall", richly decorated with wall paintings and clay statues (reminiscent of the one at Toprak Kala). It was enclosed by a roof supported by wooden columns standing on carved stone pedestals (typical of Central Asian architecture, similar halls have been found in Sogdian cities); one of the walls contained what appeared to be the remains of a fire altar decorated with a frame designed as a ram's horn.

    Perhaps the most spectacular site from ancient Khwarazm is Koykrylgan Kala (the correct spelling in Uzbek is Qoy Qirilq'an Qala). Today, it’s located in a remote area engulfed by the sands of the Kyzyl Kum desert, and it was discovered by pure chance in 1938 by Tolstov and two of his colleagues who were encamped nearby; they were actually going to excavate another site, but they did some preliminary field work at this location. The outbreak of WWII precluded any further work, and detailed excavations would not start until 1952, lasting until 1957.

    Koi-Krylgan-Kala-08.jpg

    Aerial picture of Koykrylgan Kala before the beginning of the excavations.

    Koi-Krylgan-Kala-04.jpg

    The Koykrylgan Kala complex fully unearthed at the height of the excavations.

    The results of the work were put together in a monograph written by Sergey P. Tolstov and Bella I. Vaynberg and published as Volume 5 of the "Works of the Khorezm Archaeological-Ethnographical Expedition" in 1967. The work of conceptually reconstructing the architecture of the site was undertaken by M. S. Lapirov-Skoblo. Today only the central part of the fort remains, in a badly eroded state. Soviet archaeologists tended to leave their completed excavations exposed to the elements, and these mudbrick structures are easily damaged by the winter rains. To make matters worse much of the mudbrick from the outer walls seems to have been taken and recycled by local people. Now the site faces an additional threat, as the rising groundwater table is increasing the levels of salinity around the site. Little has been left for re-examination by the scientists of the future.

    The excavation works showed that Koykrylgan Kala was a monumental cylindrical building of two states, 42 m in diameter, and which originally stood 8 m above the surrounding plain. There was a single row of arrow slits on the upper floor and a row of windows on the lower floor. The building was defended by a circular outer double wall, 88 m in diameter, reinforced with eight equally spaced bastions.

    Koi-Krylgan-Kala-09.jpg

    Detailed 1957 map of the site drawn during the Soviet excavations.

    At first, the building had been defended by a single outer wall and a surrounding moat. Sometime later, the loopholes in this wall were sealed and a second outer wall was added, creating a shooting gallery within the space between. There was a single entrance located on the eastern side on the outer wall. Visitors to the site first gained access to a rectangular courtyard and then passed through a labyrinth gate defended by a pair of D-shaped towers. Once they got through the gate they went up by a covered ramp inside the gatehouse leading up to the entrance of the central circular building.

    The ground floor of the main building contained eight chambers with arched ceilings, arranged into three interconnected groups. There were two chambers aligned along a central axis, roughly oriented in an east-west direction, each accessed by pairs of descending stairways from opposite sides of the building. There were then an additional six chambers oriented at right angles to the axial chambers in an approximately north-south direction, three in the northern segment and three in the southern. Each central axial chamber was connected by narrow corridors to three of the perpendicular chambers. All of these chambers, apart from the central chamber on the northern side, were illuminated by downward sloping window shafts that perforated the six-meter thick wall.

    To complicate matters further, the central chamber on the western side had been divided at some later stage into two parts by a wall. A deep pit had been dug in the floor of the smallest segment. Furthermore, while the eastern stairs led up to the second stage archers' gallery which encircled the building, the western stairs leading off from the western chamber had also been blocked by a brick wall. The upper floor had to be accessed by ladders from the second stage archers' gallery.

    Koi-Krylgan-Kala-10.jpg

    Artist’s reconstruction of the circular complex of Koykrylgan Kala.

    Even today, the true purpose of the site still remains something of a mystery. Excavations showed that the building had been destroyed by fire and had later been ransacked. It seems to have originally been built in the IV century BCE shortly after Khwarazm separated from the Achaemenid empire. As we’ve seen, this “Kangju period” (in Tolstov’s terms) seems to have been one of huge prosperity for Khwarazm. Yet surprisingly the building was used for only one or at most two centuries before being abandoned in the early II century BCE; it was then briefly occupied by squatters.

    Due to its very peculiar layout, scholars consider that it could’ve been possible that the lower floor might have originally functioned as some type of astronomical observatory, possibly monitoring the times for the rising and setting of certain stars and perhaps the cycles of the sun and the moon, given their highly venerated position in Zoroastrianism. It’s known that ancient Khwarazmians were familiar with eclipses, had an accurate calendar and knew the exact time of the seasons, which was vital for the management of their agricultural economy.

    Koi-Krylgan-Kala-03.jpg

    Plaster sacale model of Koykrylgan Kala (Nukus Museum, Uzbekistan).

    In the middle of the II century BCE the site was once more occupied and experienced a revival that lasted until the IV century CE. The space between the central circular building and the surrounding wall became increasingly filled with an irregular radial arrangement of storerooms and domestic buildings and a defensive lower external wall was built just two meters outside of the main wall. The site seems to have become the center of a local cult that was associated with the consumption of wine. Numerous finds revealed that winemaking and drinking had now become a popular pastime. Apart from numerous storage jars and drinking vessels, archaeologists found paintings of a bearded man holding a bunch of grapes and a wine jug and a woman pouring an amphora into a goblet. The surrounding agricultural region seems to have been a rich vine growing area and from various finds of grape pips archaeologists managed to even know the varieties of vines that were being grown. An aerial survey in the early 1950s was still able to identify the remains of many grid-shaped irrigation systems in the vicinity of Koykrylgan Kala, which were being slowly invaded by the dunes of the encroaching desert.

    One final mystery concerns the segmentation of the western central chamber. It has been suggested that the observatory may have been subsequently used as a royal mausoleum or burial site, since part of the chamber had been isolated by thick walls. A very deep pit, possibly designed to foil grave robbers, protected the approach to the dividing wall from the eastern side. It was so effective that it nearly the archaeological excavators who first discovered it nearly fell into it. However, the bricked-up chamber contained no remains of any burial.

    The six seasons of work at the site revealed a huge amount about the material culture of ancient Khwarazm. The finds included a rich collection of ceramics, statuettes, fragments of polychrome painting, iron tools and arrow heads, ossuaries, and inscriptions written in the ancient Khwarazmian script, derived from the Aramaic script.

    Koi-Krylgan-Kala-07.jpg

    Ossuary from Koykrylgan Kala.
     
    7.10 THE CHIONITES.
  • 7.10 THE CHIONITES.

    According to Ammianus Marcellinus, after the third siege of Nisibis in 350 CE, the Sasanian king Šābuhr II was forced to quit the western borders of Ērānšahr because a new danger had appeared in Central Asia:

    For already the Massagetae had invaded Persia and were causing damage there.

    It’s precisely at this point in history when the surviving text of Ammianus’ Res Gestae picks up, and for the following twenty-eight years (until the Roman defeat at Adrianople in 378 CE), we enjoy the rare luxury of having a high-quality contemporary source by a direct eyewitness covering the events in the Roman empire. In 350 CE, taking advantage of Šābuhr II’s troubles in Central Asia, Constantius II left the Middle East with his praesentalis army to fight the usurpation of Magnentius in Gaul, while the western provinces who had been until then ruled by his brother Constans took sides; some aligned with Constantius II, others with Magnentius and Illyricum with the general Vetranio, who proclaimed himself as augustus, allegedly at the insistence of Constans’ sister Constantina. Constantius II acknowledged Vetranio’s claim, probably in order to divide any possible support for Magnentius; as soon as he reached Illyricum, in December 25, 350 CE both emperors met in public before their assembled armies (either at Serdica, Naissus or Sirmium, the sources are contradictory about the location) and Vetranio abdicated of his titles, and accepted the comfortable retirement in Bithynia that Constantius II offered him. In September 351 CE, the armies of Magnentius and Constantius II clashed at Mursa in Pannonia (modern Osijek, in Croatia) and in one of the bloodiest and most destructive battles in the history of Roman civil wars, Constantius II inflicted a decisive defeat on his foe. Magnentius though managed to feel to Gaul, where the final battle took place at Mons Seleucus in July 353 CE (located in the modern commune of La Bâtie-Montsaléon, in the Hautes-Alpes department in southeastern France).

    But this was not the end of Constantius II’s troubles in Europe. In order to defeat Magnentius as fast as possible, Constantius II had allied himself with the Franks, Alamanni and Sarmatians, who now refused to retreat from Roman territory, and so Constantius II had to embark in a series of costly and time-consuming campaigns along the Rhine and Danube to restore the European limes. He also had to deal with the problem of succession. He was childless, so he decided to recall his cousin Constantius Gallus (who with his brother Julian were the only other male members of the House of Constantine still alive and was living in internal exile somewhere in Asia Minor) and had him proclaimed as caesar in Sirmium on March 15, 351 CE. Gallus was sent to the East as Constantius II’s representative and presumptive heir, but according to Ammianus’ account, his “debauchery” and “misconduct” there was reported back to Constantius II, who recalled him to the West. While traveling to meet Constantius, Gallus was stopped, arrested, tried and executed at Pola (modern Pula, in Croatia) in 354 CE, after which Constantius II, who was still childless, had no other option but raising his only remaining cousin Julian to the rank of caesar. Julian was summoned to the West and he was proclaimed caesar at Mediolanum (modern Milan) on November 6th, 355 CE, and was married to Constantius II’s sister Helena.

    Solidus-Constantius-Gallus-thessalonica-RIC-149.jpg

    Gold solidus of Constantius Gallus as caesar; mint of Thessalonica. In the obverse: D(ominus) N(oster) CONSTANTIVS NOB(ilissimus) CAES(ar). On the reverse: GLORIA REI PVBLICAE (lit. “glory to the republics”), a celebration of the twin capitals of Rome and Constantinople, symbolized by two female figures wearing mural crowns.

    After the fiasco with Gallus, Constantius II did not send Julian to the East, but instead he sent him to Gaul, where the situation was still far from settled, with the Roman generals showing themselves incapable of containing the Frankish and Alamannic warbands that were ravaging the country; according to Ammianus, the situation was so chaotic among other things because Constantius II’s commander in Gaul, the magister militum Silvanus, was “falsely accused” by Constantius II’s courtiers of plotting an usurpation and was subsequently “forced” to proclaim himself as augustus in Cologne on August 11th, 355 CE, in a strange episode that some modern historians suspect could have been an invention by Ammianus to justify the role played in the execution/murder of Silvanus by his own patron, the comes Ursicinus.

    Šābuhr II did not restart hostilities against the Romans until 359 CE, and at that date Constantius II and the caesar Julian were still bogged down in Gaul and Illyricum respectively. According to Ammianus, during these nine years Šābuhr II remained “encamped” in the eastern borders of his empire, without offering more details. According to Ammianus though, the Sasanian commanders along the Roman border launched frequent raids and plundering expeditions against the Roman eastern provinces and Armenia (Res Gestae, XV, 13.4):

    While these men were in league and enriching themselves (i.e. the Roman high officials in the East in Constantius II’s absence) by bringing mutual gain one to the other, the Persian generals stationed by the rivers, while their king was busied in the farthest bounds of his empire, kept raiding our territories with predatory bands, now fearlessly invading Armenia and sometimes Mesopotamia, while the Roman officers were occupied in gathering the spoils of those who paid them obedience.

    Following Ammianus’ account, the Praetorian Prefect of the East Strategius Musonianus opened on his own initiative peace talks with the Sasanian commander across the river Tamsapor (Tahm-Šābuhr) in 357 CE. Considering Constantius II’s personality, I find this a bit difficult to believe, and I think that it’s quite more credible that he was acting on Constantius II’s secret orders, in order to avoid any damage to the emperor’s prestige if the negotiations failed. This is Ammianus’ account (Res Gestae, XVI, 9.1-4):

    But the Persians in the East, rather by thieving and robbery than (as their former manner was) in set battles, kept driving off booty of men and animals; sometimes they were successful, being unexpected; again, they lost, overmatched by the great number of our soldiers; occasionally they were not allowed to see anything at all which could be carried off. None the less, Musonianus, the praetorian prefect, a man (as I have said before) gifted with many excellent accomplishments, but corrupt and easy to turn from the truth by a bribe, inquired into the designs of the Persians through emissaries of his who were adepts in deceit and incrimination; and he took into his counsels on this subject Cassianus, dux of Mesopotamia, who had been toughened by various campaigns and dangers. When the two had certain knowledge from the unanimous reports of their scouts that Sapor, on the remotest frontiers of his realm, was with difficulty and with great bloodshed of his troops driving back hostile tribesmen, they made trial of Tamsapor, the commander nearest to our territory, in secret interviews through obscure soldiers, their idea being that, if chance gave an opportunity, he should by letter advise the king finally to make peace with the Roman emperor, in order that by so doing he might be secure on his whole western frontier and could rush upon his persistent enemies. Tamsapor consented and relying on this information, reported to the king that Constantius, being involved in very serious wars, entreated and begged for peace. But while these communications were being sent to the Chionitae and Euseni, in whose territories Sapor was passing the winter, a long time elapsed.

    Here for the first time we have the names of the peoples with which Šābuhr II was engaged: Chionitae and Euseni; these are not “antique” names like the term Massagetae that Ammianus used earlier in his text (an archaism borrowed from older Greek authors), but names that are not found in earlier Graeco-Latin texts. The term Euseni has puzzled scholars for a long time, because it does not appear elsewhere in any other western accounts (Greek, Latin, Syriac. Armenian, etc.), and it’s been impossible to relate it to any eastern people known to us. In the early XX century, the German scholar Josef Marquart offered a possible solution by emendating it to Cuseni, which was the name that Classical authors used to refer to the Kushans. But his proposal has not been accepted by everybody and is still disputed to this day, because it raises new problems. First of all, it’s linguistically impossible for Cuseni to evolve into Euseni in Latin, and so the only possible explanation for this evolution of a C into an E is a scribal mistake. That’s a possible explanation, but it’s impossible to prove because the work of Ammianus has arrived to us only through a single manuscript that was copied by a humanist in a German monastery in the XV century and was published in Florence a few years later. Also, the word Euseni is repeated more than once across the text, and this raises serious doubts among the scholars: one scribal mistake is believable, but repeated mistakes in the same letter of the same word across the same text is quite hard to believe. And in addition to that, there’s of course the historical problem: in 357 CE, the Kushan empire had ceased to exist as such, and only a residual kingdom/principality in northern India remained, possibly beyond the Indus in the Punjab.

    Shapur-II-Drahm-03.jpg

    Silver drahm of the Sasanian Šahān Šāh Šābuhr II. The king is wearing his usual crenellated crown with a large cloth korymbos atop it, studded with what look like pearls, a typical accoutrement of Sasanian royal regalia that symbolized the kings divine “farr”, their “royal fortune” that entitled them to reign. This crown is exactly the same one worn by his ancestor Šābuhr I, and Šābuhr II probably chose it deliberately, in order to make a statement about his intentions to bring Ērānšahr back to its former glory.

    Some historians have proposed that perhaps Ammianus meant that Šābuhr II was campaigning “in the old lands of the Kushan empire”, as they would have been still known to the Romans as “the Cuseni lands”, and again that’s perfectly possible (indeed, the name “Kushan” showed a remarkable resiliency in Central Asia, and survived into the V and VI centuries CE in Sogdiana and Ṭoḵārestān, as proved by epigraphy and numismatics), but what’s more puzzling is that according to Ammianus the Euseni allied themselves with Šābuhr II in 359 CE and invaded the Roman East with the Sasanian army. Yet another possibility (within the same proposal that Euseni is an equivalent or mistake for Cuseni) is that the name Euseni referred to the Sasanian vassal kingdom of Kušān Šāhr, and that the participation of the Euseni in Šābuhr II’s 359 CE invasion simply reflects the participation of the Kušān Šāh and his army alongside the main Sasanian army, as was to be expected of a vassal kingdom ruled by a cadet branch of the main Sasanian line. And finally, some scholars prefer to see in these mysterious Euseni a revolt by the native elites of the eastern territories ruled by the Sasanians who identified themselves as “Kushans” (even if they were Bactrians, Sogdians or otherwise) in order to throw off the Sasanian rule over their lands.

    Khodadad Rezakhani has also advanced the hypothesis that the Euseni/Cuseni could be the Kidarites (a clan or dynasty of the Huns), as in later coinage (still within the late IV century CE) that they minted in the territories that they’d conquered in Central Asia they called themselves Kušān Šāhs and deliberately appropriated the iconography, regalia and titles of the old Kushan kings and their Sasanian successors. In support of this theory, Rezakhani points out that the Armenian author Faustus of Byzantium also refers to the Kidarites as “Kushans” in his chronicle. But I must repeat once more that none of these explanations have been wholly accepted to this day and so the identity of the Euseni is still an open issue.

    But with the Chionitae, it’s a whole different issue, because this people has been identified and nowadays most historians accept that this is the first appearance of the Huns in the western and Central Asian historical accounts, although there are still some doubts about it. As I wrote in an earlier post, the defeat of the Xiongnu and the fall of their empire in the eastern steppes at the hands of the Han empire and the Xianbei tribes had been once considered the end of this people, but in the last twenty years a reappraisal of eastern sources (Chinese dynastic chronicles and Sogdian letters), combined with some archaeological evidence has led most scholars to reconsider their position.

    In 220 CE, the Han dynasty of China fell after four centuries of rule, and the country disintegrated into several minor states; until the reunification of the territory by the Sui dynasty in 581 CE China stopped exerting a dominant political role over the Tarim Basin and was unable to counter the rise of successive nomadic empires in the eastern steppe, none of which though would be as prestigious, extensive and powerful as the old Xiongnu empire until the rise of the Göktürk Khaganate in the VI century CE. China fragmented into several minor states which were generally short-lived, and the ones in the northern part of the country came under increasing control of dynasties of northern nomadic origin, although their ruling elites soon became Sinicized and imitated the customs and practices of the old Han court, one of which was the redaction of dynastic chronicles.

    Immediately after the end of the Han dynasty, China was divided into three kingdoms, this was the Three Kingdoms Period, which lasted from 220 to 280 CE. The northern part of China (the Gansu corridor and the Yellow River valley) became the state of Cao Wei, which lasted from 220 to 266 CE. Due to its geographical corridor and its control of the Gansu corridor which was the main land route between central China and Central Asia, the state of Cao Wei had an interest in the events in the northern steppe. The historian Yu Huan wrote between 239 and 245 CE the Weilüe (meaning “A brief history of Wei”); this chronicle has been lost in its original form, but quite extensive passages have survived as quotes in later works. And in these quotations, the Weilüe mentions specifically that at the time of its redaction (the mid-III century CE) the northern Xiongnu still existed as an organized political entity somewhere near the Altai mountains, to the west of their original homeland in the Mongolian steppe.

    China-Three-Kingdoms.png

    The Three Kingdoms (Wei, Shu and Wu) that succeeded the unified Eastern Han dynasty in China after its fall in 220 CE.

    Another Chinese source that provides us with information about the fate of the northern Xiongnu is the Weishu. The Weishu (meaning the “Book of Wei”), is a Chinese historical text compiled by Wei Shou from 551 to 554 CE, and it describes the history of the Northern Wei and Eastern Wei states from 386 to 550 CE. The Northern Wei state, which accomplished the reunification of northern China after 439 CE before becoming split again into Western and Eastern Wei in 535 CE, was ruled by a “barbarian” dynasty, the Tuoba clan, which was of Xianbei origin. The original work had 114 volumes, and its has survived mostly, with minor lacunae which were later “patched up” with material taken from other contemporary works. Again, the geographical situation of the Northern and Eastern Wei states and the ethnicity of their ruling clan (although they became also increasingly Sinicized over time, to the extreme that all Tuoba names were officially forbidden under Emperor Xiaowen of the Northern Wei dynasty in 496 CE and changed to Han names). The Weishu offers also more information about the whereabouts of the northern Xiongnu after they fled the eastern steppe: towards the beginning of the V century CE, to the northwest of the Rouran (then the ruling power in Mongolia) there were still in the vicinity of the Altai the remaining descendants of the Xiongnu.

    Northern-Wei-Cataphract.jpg

    Terracotta statuette of a cataphract found in a grave dated to the Northern Wei dynasty (386 – 584 CE).

    The Weilüe provides us with a clear sense of the geopolitical context in which these Xiongnu/Huns were situated in the III century CE. The Weilüe notes that the Zhetysu region (in modern eastern Kazakhstan, also called Semirechye in Russian) directly to the southwest of the Altai (where the Xiongnu were located according to these Chinese sources) was still occupied by the Wusun people, and the area to the west of this area and north of the Kangju people (whose territory was centered around the middle valley of the Syr Daryā) was the territory of the Dingling tribes. The Wusun and the Kangju are said in the Weilüe to have neither expanded nor shrunk since Han times. The Dingling were a Turkic or proto-Turkic people which were quoted in Chinese sources from the II century BCE onwards; at that time, they were living in the are between Lake Baikal and northern Mongolia and were among the tribal groups conquered by Modu Shanyu, the founder of the Xiongnu empire; from the I century BCE onwards they took part in several large revolts against the Xiongnu. Once more according to Chinese sources, at this time a fraction of the Dingling migrated to the west and settled “in Kangju”, and this is the group that we’re referring to in here.

    The Wusun on the other part are considered by Étienne de la Vaissière and other scholars to have been Iranian speakers (other scholars believe them to have been Tokharian or even Old Indic speakers) and were also one of the tribal groups subjugated by Modu Shanyu. After their initial defeat by the Xiongnu, the Wusun became close allies of the Xiongnu, and expelled the Yuezhi from the Illi valley (in Zhetysu) where they settled; the Yuezhi fled southwards to Sogdiana and Bactria and from one of their ruling clans would rise the Kushan dynasty. But later, relations between the Wusun and their Xiongnu rulers soured and the Wusun took part in several great revolts against them; during the III century CE they were still settled in Zhetysu, between Lake Balkhash and the Tian Shan Range. Relations between them and the Kangju first and the Sogdian principalities don’t seem to have been very cordial.

    Wusun-Rider-burial-mound-Tenlik-III-II-BCE-Kazakhstan.jpg

    Golden belt buckle found in a kurgan belonging to the Wusun culture, III – II centuries BCE, Kazakhstan.

    In 1992 came to light the first of series of fragmentary inscriptions on ceramic plaques found at the Kazakh site of Kultobe, by the river Arys. The scholars Frantz Grenet and Nicholas Sims-Williams identified the script in them as Sogdian and translated then in 2006 – 2007. They were discovered in the remains of a citadel on the banks of the river, at the foot of a plateau that had been once inhabited by nomads, as shown by the big kurgans overlooking the valley. The inscriptions could not be dated with any certainty, but linguists believe that on paleographical and grammatical grounds they should be older than the Sogdian letters from the early IV century CE; and as De la Vaissière noted, the situation they seem to describe corresponds very closely to the one described by Chinese sources for the I century CE in that geographical area.

    By then, the formerly unified Kangju state, centered on Čāč, had dissolved into a confederation of oasis-states. This situation seems to have lingered up to the late III century CE, as the Paikuli inscription of Narsē seems to describe the same confederacy under the name “Kēš, Soğd and Čāč”. It seems clear that the inscriptions refer to a colonization effort originating from Kangju as a whole; they describe the creation of a border fortress by a general from Čāč with the agreements and participation, and maybe even a supply of colonists, by all the main southern oasis in Kangju (i.e. the Sogdian oasis, which are explicitly named in the inscriptions: Čāč, Samarkand, Naḵšab, Kēš and Bukhara). According to the inscriptions, this strategical move was conducted at the expense of a people called the wδ’nn’p, which were identified by Étienne de la Vaissière as the equivalent of the Wusun of Chinese sources.

    Mongolia-330-555.jpg

    The central and eastern Eurasian Steppe according to the Weishu.

    But the geopolitical picture provided by the later Weishu is one that has drastically changed. According to it, a people called the Yueban Xiongnu were now occupying the territory of the Wusun and it further points out that these Yueban were a horde of the Shanyu of the Northern Xiongnu. It tells us that when the Northern Xiongnu were defeated by the Han imperial armies they fled westwards. The weak elements among them were left behind in the area north of the city of Qiuci (now in central Xinjiang). Afterwards, this weak group of Xiongnu is said to have subjected the land of the Wusun to form the new state of Yueban, while the stronger group of Xiongnu/Huns are reported to have headed further west. The Weishu tells us that the remnants of the defeated Wusun were to be found in the V century CE in the Pamirs. Archaeology in addition to the written evidence shows that the main group of Huns/Xiongnu in the Altai region (i.e. the “strong” Xiongnu as opposed to the “weak” Yueban Xiongnu) had already started to absorb the Dingling Turkic tribes to their west, an area corresponding to modern northern/northeastern Kazakhstan, and the Irtysh and Middle Ob regions (western Siberia) in the III century CE. This corresponds exactly with the areas from which the Huns of Europe and the Huns of Central Asia would later start their trek to Europe and Sogdiana respectively. The Weishu also confirms that the Central Asian White Huns originated from the Altai region and moved into Central Asia ca. 360 CE, at exactly the same time the European Huns were moving into Europe at the expense of the Alans and later the Goths. The Weishu further specifically states that the V century CE rulers of Sogdiana, that is the White Huns, were of Xiongnu origin.

    The identification of the European Huns with the Central Asian Huns and of both groups with the Xiongnu of the ancient Chinese chronicles has a long story in western historiography since it was first proposed by the French orientalist Joseph de Guignes in his Histoire générale des Huns, des Mongoles, des Turcs et des autres Tartares occidentaux (1756–1758). This hypothesis has caused incessant debates since its first appearance and rivers of ink to flow, with some scholars being fiercely opposed to it (like the renowned Austrian-American Sinologist Otto J. Maenchen-Helfen) and others supporting it. The most recent trend seems to be in support of it, since the essays written on the subject by the French scholar Étienne de la Vaissière in the 2000s, which have been further expanded by other authorities. The identification of the Huns (European and Central Asian ones) with the ancient Xiongnu is based on several grounds.

    First, there is the study of the Chinese sources, which I’ve already exposed above.

    Secondly, there’s the linguistic evidence; I’m no linguist (and certainly not an expert in Iranian, Chinese or Turkic languages), but I will try to put together a brief summary in here. Today it seems clear to historians and linguists that the name Hun was the name that the ancient Xiongnu/Huns used to refer to themselves. Arriving to this conclusion has taken a lot of time and effort to scholars, and I will try now to offer a small glimpse of the principal factors that have been a part in this process. In 1948, the German Iranologist Walter Henning published a new translation of a text that was already known: the second of the Ancient Sogdian Letters. This letter was written by a Sogdian trader named Nanaivande somewhere in the Gansu corridor, and was addressed to an unknown recipient in Samarkand; the letter has been dated very precisely to 313 CE. In this letter, Nanaivande informs his correspondent in Samarkand about the recent fall of the capital city of Luoyang in northern China at the hands of the Xwn (pronounced “Khūn”). This event is also referred to in Chinese sources; according to them, the Southern Xiongnu (a fraction of the Xiongnu that had surrendered to the Eastern Han in the II century CE and had been resettled by them in the Ordos region) conquered in 311 CE the city of Luoyang, which was the capital of the Jin dynasty, burned the city to the ground and captured emperor Huai of Jin. The letter never arrived in Samarkand; together with other letters addressed to correspondents outside China, they were confiscated by the Chinese authorities in Dunhuang, stored and then forgotten until they were discovered in the early XX century.

    Sogdian-Letter.jpg

    One of the Ancient Sogdian Letters from Dunhuang.

    This exact coincidence of events led scholars to consider that the “barbarians” that the Chinese called Xiongnu were the same that the Sogdians knew as Xwn; a name that is here first attested in Sogdian which which would appear with frequency in Sogdian texts in the two and a half following centuries. The Sogdian pronunciation of Xwn is very close to the pronunciation of Hun, but what’s even more interesting is that the reconstructed pronunciation of the name Xiongnu according to the pronunciation of Ancient Chinese is also quite similar to it. The Chinese script is a logographic script that has changed very little across the centuries (or at least before the introduction of Simplified Chinese in the PRC in the 1950s), but while the script has changed little, the spoken Chinese language has changed a lot since Han times. To put in in other words: today a cultivated Chinese reader and Sima Qian could understand each other with little problem in writing, but their forms of spoken Chinese would be mutually unintelligible. Thus, historically the spoken Chinese language has been divided into Old Chinese (1250 BCE – 600 CE), Middle Chinese (601 CE – 1200 CE) and Modern Chinese (1200 CE to the present). This means that the set of characters that is read in modern Mandarin Chinese as Xiongnu was read in a different form in Old Chinese, when the Xiongnu existed and were given this name by the Chinese.

    The Chinese name Xiongnu is formed by two characters: 匈奴. The meaning of these two logograms has not changed since Han times: “howling (or “fierce”) slave”. It was obviously a derogatory name, but modern scholars like De la Vaissière point out that the ancient Chinese, even when they were naming foreign enemy peoples with deliberately derogatory names, usually tried to make these Chinese names as phonetically close to the foreign original names as possible, but they were obviously constricted by the rigidities of the Chinese script (this is an important point; the constraint was caused by the availability of logograms in Chinese script, not by the phonetics of Old Chinese). And so, modern attempts at reconstructing the Old Chinese pronunciation of the first of these two logograms (匈) suggest that the original pronunciation might have been something close to *ŋ̊oŋ (in linguistics, “*” before a word indicates a hypothetical, reconstructed word), which is again quite similar to Hun or Xwn.

    But the linguistic clues don’t end here. Another important linguistic testimony in this subject has been transmitted by the Buddhist monk Zhu Fahu. He was born in Dunhuang (just on the Chinese border) in 233 CE, and at the age of eight he became a novice in a Buddhist monastery, where he later took the Sanskrit name Dharmarakṣa. According to Buddhist tradition, he travelled extensively across the “western regions” and returned to China with a number of Buddhist texts which he then proceeded to translate into Chinese with the help of several associates, both Chinese and foreigners. Zhu Fahu first began his translation career in Chang'an (present day Xi'an) in 266 CE, and later moved to Luoyang, the capital of the newly formed Jin Dynasty. He was also active in Dunhuang for some time as well and alternated between the three locations. It was in Chang'an that he made the first known translation of the Lotus Sutra and the Ten Stages Sutra, two texts that later became definitive for Chinese Buddhism, in 286 CE and 302 CE, respectively. Altogether, Zhu Fahu translated around one hundred and fifty-four sūtras. Many of his works were greatly successful, they circulated widely across northern China in the III century CE and became the subject of exegetical studies and scrutiny by Chinese monks in the IV century CE.

    Yumenguan.jpg

    The Gate of Jade (Yumenguan), west of Dunhuang, marked the Chinese border since the times of Emperor Wu of the Western Han. These are the remains of the fortress erected by the Han at this location, where the Great Wall ended.

    Two of these texts that he translated were the Tathāgataguhya-sūtra and the Lalitavistara. The original Sanskrit versions of these two texts included the term Hūṇa, and Zhu Fahu translated them into Chinese as Xiongnu. De la Vaissière points out that this choice of words by Zhu Fahu is especially telling, because in the original Sanskrit versions of both texts, this term appeared in lists of peoples written from an Indo-centric point of view. When Zhu Fahu had to translate these lists into Chinese, he realized that it would be pointless to translate it verbatim, as many of these peoples would have been unknown and thus meaningless to a Chinese readership, so he only kept for direct translations those names that had sense for a Chinese audience:
    • Sanskrit Pahlava (for the Arsacid Parthians) is translated as Anxi (a name already established in the Shiji).
    • Sanskrit Tukhāra (the Kushans) is translated as Yuezhi (already a name established since Han times).
    • Sanskrit Yavana (literally “the Greeks”, derived from “Ionian”) is translated as Daqin (the name used since Han times to refer to the Roman empire and for extension to the Hellenistic world).
    So, Zhu Fahu’s decision to render Hūṇa as Xiongnu is quite significant in this context, and it should also be taken into consideration that Hūṇa is not an Indian word, so it must’ve come into Sanskrit from a foreign language.

    Then there’s also the Sasanian and Mediterranean perspective. As I already noted, the word Chionitae employed by Ammianus is the first appearance of this word in any know Latin or Greek text. Its origin was a puzzle for historians and linguists until it was pointed out that the term bears a remarkable phonetical similarity to a term found in an apocalyptic Middle Persian text written during the Sasanian period, the Bahman Yašt, a commentary (Zand) of an Avestan text now lost. In its fifth and sixth chapters, this eschatological text describes the calamities that would befall the land of the Aryans at the end of the tenth millennium of the Zoroastrian calendar: it would be invaded by the Arabs, Romans, Turks, Xyōn, Tibetans, Chinese and other foreign peoples who would cause the decay of religion, breakdown of social order, debasement of law and morality, and degeneration of nature.

    What’s interesting in this text is the appearance of the term Xyōn (or Hyōn), which many historians and linguists think is the source for the Latin term Chionitae of Ammianus’ text, and which bears obvious phonetic parallelisms with the Sogdian term Xwn. As with the Chinese term Xiongnu, the Middle Persian term Xyōn also plays with a double meaning: on one side, it’s phonetically similar to Hun, but on another side it’s a derivation of the Avestan term X’iiaona (or Hyaona), the name of a tribe which is described in the Avesta as a foe of king Vištāspa, the patron of Zoroaster. In this way, it was possible to establish a clear and deliberate parallelism between the Avestan king Vištāspa and his tribal enemies and the reigning Sasanian Šahān Šāh and his Central Asian nomadic enemies. Further study of the Zoroastrian Middle Persian literature led to the discovery of further references to the Xyōn; in the Pahlavi tradition the Xyōn are counted among the enemies of the Sasanian Šahān Šāh Pērōz (459 – 484 CE) in his struggle against the Hephthalites in the later V century CE.

    The Bahman Yašt also makes an interesting reference to further divisions among the Xyōn: the Xyōn proper, the Heftal (Hephthalites), the Karmīr Xyōn (“Red Xyōn”) and the Sped Xyōn (“White Xyōn”). Scholars have noticed clear analogies between these Middle Persian terms and Sanskrit terms of the Gupta era: Śveta Hūṇa or Sita Hūṇa (“White Huns”) and Hala Hūṇa (“Dark Huns”, or “Red Huns”). The issue though has been further confused because the VI century CE Eastern Roman author Procopius of Caesarea used the expression Leukoi Ounnoi (“White Huns”) to refer to the Hephthalites that were fighting the Sasanians in the east, while adding that they were referred to as “white” Huns because they were “European-like” in appearance and not “swarthy” like other Huns.

    But today, Procopius' explanation has been thoroughly discredited. The American scholar Edwin Pulleyblank pointed out that these names are not artistical licenses or fantasies by Iranian or Indian writers, but that they probably reflect the symbolical and cultural value of colors in the social and political hierarchies of the Eurasian steppe nomadic societies. Pulleyblank pointed out that the color white was simply symbolic of “West” among steppe nomads. Black signified “North” and red the South, hence the existence also of Red Huns (referred to as Kermichiones in later Greek sources or Alkhon/Alkhan -as we’ll see in later chapters- from the Turkic prefix “Al-“ for “scarlet” added to the term “Hun”, meaning “Red Huns”, in coins found in Ṭoḵārestān and Gandhāra), who were the southern wing of the Huns. The Ukrainian scholar Omeljan Pritsak also pointed out that in steppe societies the color black signifying “North” and the color blue signifying “East”, carried connotations of greatness and supremacy and almost always had precedence over white (West) and red (South). Thus, whichever group constituted the Black or Blue Huns (if they existed or are identifiable with known Hunnic groups such as Attila’s Huns in Europe or the Yueban Huns in Kazakhstan) probably possessed seniority over the White Huns, at least initially. The fact that the color black, kara in Turkic, suggested elevated status among the European Huns also as it did among other Inner Asian Turkic peoples, seems to be confirmed by the report by Olympiodorus of Thebes, an Eastern Roman of the V century CE that the supreme king of the (European) Huns was called Karaton.

    This utterly confusing “salad of names” (Chionites, Huns, Xiongnu, Xyōn, Xwn, Karmīr Xyōn, Sped Xyōn, Śveta Hūṇa, Kermichiones, Alkhons/Alkhans, etc.) gets even messier by the fact that it’s quite possible that these Hunnic groups were called also at given times by the name of their ruling clan, like it happened centuries earlier with the Kushans, who were initially just one of the five ruling clans of the Yuezhi people, and whose name was imposed over that of the whole people. This seems to be the case with the Kidarites, Hephthalites and Nēzak Huns, who were named thus after their ruling clan or dynasty. We should keep this in mind when dealing with the Central Asian Huns in the following chapters, or else things will become really confusing.

    Archaeology has also played a part in linking the Huns with the Xiongnu, that’s quite remarkable because in the case of nomadic peoples the archaeological record is usually quite poor. Fortunately, the European Huns have left behind a very recognizable type of religious object that is without doubt linked to them, and which has also been found in the central Eurasian Steppe, in Central Asia and in Mongolia, the original home of the Xiongnu. These objects are the Hunnish cauldrons, which have been found always in similar locations: they’ve been deliberately buried near a river or a spring, suggesting some sort of sacral usage. Their form is very characteristic, especially the mushroom-shaped adornments along their rim. Very similar cauldrons found buried in Mongolia have been dated by archaeologists to the times of Xiongnu rule, and they disappear from the archaeological scenario after the demise of the Xiongnu empire. But they’ve been found in the Altai, Dzungaria, the Kazakh Steppe, the southern Urals, the Volga valley and finally in Hungary. Some examples have also been found in Sogdiana. According to De la Vaissière, the distribution and the typologies of these cauldrons suggest two migration or expansion routes for the Huns: firstly, a “Nordic” one that ran across southern Siberia along the limit of the taiga, all the way to Yekaterinburg and the Upper Kama valley in the Urals. The cauldrons associated with this route are not found anywhere else further to the west. The southern route runs all the way from the Altai to Dzungaria, to the Kazakh Steppe, to the lower Volga valley and then to Hungary.

    Tortel-cauldron.jpg

    Sacrificial bronze cauldron of Hunnish origin found at Törtel, Hungary.

    Another point that has caused lots of controversy among scholars for the past two centuries has been the issue of the Huns’ ethnical identity. Today, this issue has faded into the background, as today we have a more nuanced and detailed understanding about how steppe empires functioned, and it’s quite clear that Eurasian nomads gave little importance to the issue of ethnical or linguistic identity, contrary to what happened in academic circles during the XIX and XX centuries, in the heyday of nationalism. Today, the question of the ethnical identity of the Huns is still an unresolved one. The amount of Hunnic words that has reached our day is quite scarce, to say the least: exactly three words, plus some personal names and tribal ethnonyms. That’s all that remains.

    With this meager evidence, some scholars are reluctant to reach any conclusion and just label the Hunnish language as “unclassifiable”, but others are willing to make some speculations. It’s clear that the Huns that reached Europe had their own “Hunnic” language. Most of what we known of the customs of the European Huns comes from the account of the historian and rhetor Priscus of Panium, who was sent as part of an embassy of the Eastern Roman empire to the court of Attila in 448/449 CE. Priscus wrote Attila’s “Scythian” (i.e. Hunnic) subjects spoke:

    (…) besides their own barbarian tongues, either Hunnish, or Gothic, or, as many have dealings with the Western Romans, Latin; but not one of them easily speaks Greek, except captives from the Thracian or Illyrian frontier regions.

    The three words we have from the Hunnic language are preserved in the writings of Priscus and the VI century CE author Jordanes. In Priscus’ account, we learn that:

    In the villages we were supplied with food (millet instead of wheat) and “medos” as the natives call it. The attendants who followed us received millet and a drink of barley, which the barbarians call “kamos”.

    And according to Jordanes’ account of Attila’s funeral:

    When the Huns had mourned him (Attila) with such lamentations, a “strava”, as they call it, was celebrated over his tomb with great reveling.

    According to linguists, these three words (medos, kamos and strava) are of Indo-European origin; either Germanic, Iranian or Slavic. But in the case of personal names and ethnonyms, Hyun Jin Kim points out that the overwhelming majority of them are Turkic ones and concludes that most probably the “European” Hunnic elite was Turkic-speaking, following what seems to be the predominant trend nowadays among historians and linguists.

    Hyun Jin Kim though warns against any attempt to seek any sort of genetic/racial continuity between the Huns and Xiongnu. He stresses that “Hun” (or “Wusun”, “Yuezhi”, “Kangju”, etc.) was a political category, not a racial or hereditary one; at its heyday the Xiongnu empire must’ve included speakers of many different languages (Turkic, Mongolic, Yeniseian, Tungusic, Iranian, Tokharian, etc.) and many of them must’ve considered themselves as “Xiongnu” without further issue.

    One of the extant Chinese sources seems to indicate that some of the Xiongnu, in particular the Jie tribe of the wider Xiongnu confederation, spoke a Yeniseian language. The Jin Shu (meaning “The Book of Jin”, an official Chinese historical text covering the history of the Jin dynasty from 265 to 420 CE), compiled in 648 CE in the court of the Tang dynasty, gives us a rare transliteration of a Xiongnu Jie song composed in a language that modern linguists believe to be most likely related to Yeniseian languages. This fact has led scholars such as Edwin Pulleyblank and Alexander Vovin to argue that the Xiongnu had a Yeniseian core tribal elite, which ruled over various Tocharian, Iranian and Altaic (Turco-Mongol) groups. However, whether the Jie tribe and the language they spoke is representative of the core ruling elite of the Xiongnu Empire remains uncertain and other scholars strongly argue in favor of a Turkic, Mongolic or even Iranian ruling elite.

    Hyun Jin Kim thinks that it seems rather likely that the core language of the Xiongnu of old was either Turkic or Yeniseian (or maybe even both), but that no definitive conclusions can as yet be made about which linguistic group constituted the upper elite of their empire. He stresses that the attempt itself may in fact be irrelevant since the Xiongnu were quite clearly a multi-lingual and multi-ethnic hybrid entity.

    And furthermore, Hyun Jin Kim states that it’s quite possible that the European Huns were equally as heterogeneous as the old Xiongnu of Mongolia. According to him, it’s quite likely that their core language was Oghuric Turkic (a branch of Turkic whose only extant member is Chuvash) given the names of their kings and princes, which are for the most part Oghuric Turkic in origin as the following list shows:
    • Mundzuk (Attila’s father, probably from Oghuric Turkic Munčuq, meaning “pearl/jewel”).
    • Oktar/Uptar (Attila’s uncle, from Oghuric Turkic Öktär, meaning “brave/powerful”).
    • Oebarsius (another of Attila’s paternal uncles, from Oghuric Turkic Aïbârs, meaning “leopard of the moon”).
    • Karaton (already quoted above; Hunnic supreme king before Ruga, from Oghuric Turkic Qarâton, meaning “black cloak”).
    • Basik (Hunnic noble of royal blood from the early V century CE, probably from Oghuric Turkic Bârsiğ, meaning “governor”).
    • Kursik (Hunnic noble of royal blood, from either Oghuric Turkic Kürsiğ, meaning “brave” or “noble”, or Quršiq meaning “belt-bearer”).
    Hyun Jin Kim also points out that all three of Attila’s known sons have probable Turkic names: Ellac, Dengizich, Ernakh/Hernak, and Attila’s principal wife, the mother of the first son Ellac, has the Turkic name Herekan, as does another wife named Eskam. The heavy concentration of Turkic peoples in the areas where the Huns dwelled before their major expansion into Europe and Central Asia is likely to have led to the consolidation of a Turkic language as the dominant language among the European Huns.

    Eurasian-Steppe.jpg

    Map of the Eurasian Steppe.

    However, this does not mean that the ethnic composition of the Huns in the central Eurasian Steppe before their entry into Central Asia and Europe in the mid IV century CE was exclusively Turkic. There was also an important Iranian element within their ethnic mix, and this is borne out by the fact that the Central Asian Huns and the Iranian-speaking Alans (the first recorded opponents of the Huns during the Hunnic expansion west into Europe in the mid fourth century AD) shared a very similar material culture. Both groups also practiced the custom of cranial deformation (the origin of which is obscure). Archaeologically it is often very difficult to make a clear distinction between a Hun, an Alan and later even a Germanic Goth due to the intensity of cultural mixing and acculturation between all the major ethnic groups that comprised the population of the European Hunnish empire: Oghuric Turkic, Iranian and Germanic. Just as the Xiongnu accommodated Chinese defectors into their empire, the later Huns also provided refuge for Graeco-Roman defectors and also forcibly settled Roman prisoners of war in their territory. Priscus of Panium leaves us with a vivid image of the heterogeneity of Hunnic society. In the fragment I quoted above, he tells us that at the Hunnic court Hunnic (presumably Oghuric Turkic), Gothic and Latin were all spoken and all three languages were understood by most of the elite to some degree, so much so that Zercon the Moor, the court jester, could provoke laughter by jumbling all three languages together at a Hunnic banquet in the presence of Attila. Remarkably the Hunnic Kidarite empire in Central Asia, which was contemporary with Attila’s Hunnic empire in Europe, also used multiple languages; we know for instance that Sogdian, Bactrian, Middle Persian and Sanskrit on different occasions were all used for administrative purposes.

    The fulgurant rise of the Sasanian dynasty in Iran under its two first kings Ardaxšir I and Šābuhr I happened not only because these two rulers were exceptionally good sovereigns (which they were), but also because the geopolitical situation in Eurasia had taken a turn that led to the weakening of the three great powers that until then had dominated the political scene from the Atlantic to the Pacific, and compared to which the Arsacid empire was a relatively minor participant. In 220 CE, the Eastern Han dynasty, which had been experiencing troubles for decades, finally collapsed and China split into three kingdoms and entered three centuries of inner stability that would not end under the reunification of the country by the Sui dynasty in 581 CE. The collapse of the unified Han empire brought about the loss of control over the Chinese military protectorate over the oasis of the Tarim Basin, which had a serious impact over the “Silk Road” trade. When the Chinese armies of emperor Wudi of the Western Han first occupied these oasis, he set up a complex array of Chinese military garrisons designed to control these oasis and defend them from Xiongnu attacks; the soldiers stationed in these remote outposts were mostly paid in silk, which was collected as tribute in kind by the bureaucracy of the Han in inner China and then transported to the borders in form of raw silk rolls that were handed over to the troops as salary. In turn, the troops sold these silk rolls to obtain the commodities needed for subsistence (them and their families), and this quickly created a lucrative trade in which rolls of first-grade raw Chinese silk became an abundant commodity in the Tarim basin and began to be exported to west of the Pamirs, where they were in high demand. The abrupt stop of this system after 220 CE must have hurt a lot the trading communities along the “Silk Road” and must’ve had serious repercussions further west.

    Approximately at the same time, the Roman empire entered the “troubles” of the III century CE, originating in a complex array of causes, among them the constant debasement of the silver denarius with which the Roman state paid its armies, which in turn was probably caused by two centuries of deficit trade with the East, in which the Roman empire exported silver in exchange for luxury Indian and Chinese items. In turn, the increased internal instability within the Roman empire, the onset of continued civil wars and foreign invasions brought about probably a sharp stop in the Roman eastern trade.

    The state that probable was hit the hardest by these two concurrent crises on both ends of Eurasia was the Kushan empire, which was located in the central Asian space and controlled all the major trade routs and mercantile emporia in Central Asia and northern India. As we’ve seen, there are signs of debasement in Kushan coinage in this century, and one can only imagine the disastrous effect that the slowing down of the Eurasian trade network must’ve had in the trading cities of Bactria and northern India. To the north, the Kangju confederacy (basically Čāč and the Sogdian oasis to the south must’ve been also badly hit, as they stood right on the main gate towards China, at the western approaches to the Pamir Plateau.

    This means that the two first Sasanian kings were confronted on all fronts by enemies that were undergoing deep internal crises, and they lost no time in taking advantage of it. The Sasanians managed to inflict humiliating defeats on the Romans, but expansion into the Roman east does not seem to have been a priority for them, as they were mostly content with annexing Mesopotamia and Armenia as bulwarks protecting the approaches to Media in the north and Āsūrestān in the south, and asserting their supremacy over the Caucasus, to seal a possible invasion route for northern nomads into the Iranian Plateau and controlling the branch of the “Silk Road” that arrived there across the Caspian Sea from Khwarazm.

    But in the East, the Sasanians took a completely different approach. Ardaxšir I and Šābuhr I basically demolished the tottering Kushan empire and annexed all of its territories north of the Hindu Kush (at the very least, if Šābuhr I did not manage to make inroads into India, as the Manichaean tradition states and the Rag-e Bibi relief in northern Afghanistan seems to suggest). Given that the Arsacid empire in the East at the fall of the dynasty did not extend further than Sistān, Arachosia and Merv, is we are to believe the ŠKZ, these two kings managed to subjugate Makurān, Pāradān, Turān, Hindustān, Gandhāra, the Afghan highlands, Ṭoḵārestān, Sogdiana “all the way to Čāčestān” and Xvārazm, which basically means all the Iranian sedentary peoples and communities in the eastern Iranian Plateau, Baluchistan and the Turanian Basin of Central Asia, and controlling also a part (or even the totality) of the Indus valley. This is a phenomenal expansion that pushed the borders of Ērānšahr to the same limits of the old Achaemenid empire, and which substantiated the claim of the two first Sasanian kings to be “kings of the Iranians and the non-Iranians”; at the death of Šābuhr I, the only Iranians who were not Sasanian subjects would have been northern nomadic tribes like the Wusun, the Alans of the Sarmatians.

    But of course, scholars have been skeptical about the triumphalist claims of Šābuhr I in the ŠKZ. There’s no hard evidence of Sasanian rule north of the Āmu Daryā at this time. Unlike in Bactria, there are no rock reliefs, remains of buildings, or seals or public documents attesting to the presence of Sasanian officials. There are only coins, but there’s a problem with this. Before the reign of Šābuhr III (383 – 388 CE), the practice of stamping mint marks on Sasanian coins was quiet a haphazard one, and most coins issued prior to his reign don’t bear mint marks. And most importantly, there are no Sasanian mints located north of the Āmu Daryā at this time, Numismatics play a very important part in the reconstruction of events in Central Asia in Late Antiquity due to the lack of written sources, and so I will get back in more detail to the issue of Sasanian coinage in later chapters.

    Even if we take the ŠKZ at face value and accept that Šābuhr I managed to impose direct or indirect Sasanian rule (through cadet branches of the House of Sāsān like the Kušān Šāhs), it seems to me rather improbable that his successors would’ve managed to keep such immense tracts of land under their control, considering that all of them had either very short or troubled reigns until Šābuhr II reached his majority of age. In his Res Gestae, Ammianus Marcellinus describes the Sasanian empire and his list of territories subjected to Šābuhr II includes all these lands, but it’s also suspiciously similar to the description of the old Achaemenid empire that was given by old Greek geographers and is full of anachronisms and mistakes.

    So, all things considered, it’s quite difficult to know with any certainty what was the extension of Sasanian rule north of the Āmu Daryā when Šābuhr II was forced to leave his never-ending war against Constantius II and go to the east in a hurry to defend his Central Asian borders against these nomadic invaders who had apparently appeared all of the sudden out of nowhere. But, as Korean historian Hyun Jim Kin writes in his book The Huns, they did not appear out of the blue, and there’s archaeological proof that from their base in the Altai, the Huns/Xiongnu had been steadily expanding westwards and southwards for some decades before 350 CE.

    The Hungarian scholar Miklós Érdy studied the findings of Hunnic cauldrons and concluded that the Huns had reached the Urals in their westward expansion already in 270 CE, which is much earlier than thought before. The Hunnic expansion to the west stalled between the Urals and the Volga for the following century, and the Huns did not cross the Volga in force until 370 CE, to invade the lands of the Gothic Greuthungi. Ands as Hyun Jin Kim points out, this suggests that all the states and tribes between the Altai and the Urals had succumbed to Hunnic conquest by the early IV century CE. But despite this expansion across the steppe, the Huns did not really start moving en masse to the west and south until after 350 CE. This sudden mass movement is attested by written accounts (Ammianus Marcellinus and Chinese sources) and archaeology. Let’s see first the written evidence, then the archaeological one and finally we’ll try to get a glimpse of what might have prompted this sudden migration.

    Erdy-Hun-Anabasis-Burials.jpg

    Distribution of archaeological findings attributable to the Xiongnu/Huns across Eurasia, according to the Hungarian scholar Miklós Érdy.

    The first written source is of course Ammianus Marcellinus’ Rerum gestarum Libri XXXI. In it, Ammianus offers a very precise date for the sudden departure of Šābuhr II from the Roman border: 350 CE, the same year of Magnentius’ usurpation, dated in the classical Roman way (consular years). Ammianus also gives us the name of the peoples that caused so many problems to the Sasanian king, to the point that, as we will see, Šābuhr II would need nine full years to bring the situation on his eastern border under control, and then without a clear, smashing victory, but having concluded a peace and an alliance treaty with his enemies that later events would prove to be extremely fragile.

    Now the Chinese sources. The Weishu, describing the situation in Central Asia west of China in the early V century CE, offers this interesting bit of news:

    Land of the Yeda, of the race of the Great Yuezhi, it’s also said that they’re another branch of the Gaoju. Originally, they came from a region north of the Sai. They departed the Altai towards the south, they settled to the west of Khotan, their capital is located more than two hundred li south of the Oxus, at 1,100 li from Chang’an.

    Chinese authors were prone to the same sort of archaisms as their Graeco-Roman colleagues, which leads sometimes to confused etymologies and garbled ethnological relationships (like the supposed Tokharian Yuezhi ancestry of the Yeda). Yeda was the name that the Chinese gave to the Hephthalites, perhaps the more famous of the Hunnish Central Asian dynasties. To this information of the Weishu, another Chinese source, the Tongdian (a Chinese institutional history and encyclopedia, covering a wide array of topics from high antiquity through the year 756 CE; the book was written between 766 and 801 CE), offers a key precision: that the departure of the Yeda from the Altai happened between eighty and ninety years before the reign of emperor Wencheng of the Later Wei (r. 452 – 466 CE), which puts us squarely in the 360 – 370 CE time frame, very near to the dates given by Ammianus.

    Moreover, the Weishu, in an entry dated precisely to 457 CE, states:

    Formerly, the Xiongnu killed the king (of Sogdiana) and took the country. King Huni is the third ruler of the line.

    Soviet and post-Soviet archaeological digs in Central Asia have also confirmed the news of the literary sources about northern invaders moving south. The excavated sites of the sedentary culture of Džetyasar on the Syr Daryā delta shows signs of large-scale destruction and abandonment that have been dated to the late III or IV centuries CE, with the abandonment of irrigation networks. The displaced populations fled in two directions, carrying with them a characteristic style of pottery that has allowed archaeologists to trace their steps; one part settled in the Caucasus and the other sought refuge to the southeast as far away as Ferghana and Sogdiana. In the middle Syr Daryā, the sites of the Kaunči culture, dated back to the establishment of the Kangju domination, show the same signs of destruction, population loss and abandonment of villages and irrigation works; in this case the displaced populations seem to have sought refuge entirely in Sogdiana, where Kaunči pottery becomes commonplace during the mid-IV century CE. At the middle course of the Syr Daryā the city of Kanka, until then one of the most important Sogdian/Kangju cities, diminished to a third of its initial surface area. This timeframe (late III century CE and first half of the IV century CE) also coincides with important changes in the archaeological register of Khwarazm: the palaces of Toprak Kala were abandoned and according to Bīrūnī the Afrighid dynasty rose to power; Soviet and post-Soviet archaeological excavations detect the abandonment of irrigation works, the destruction and abandonment of sites and a general tendency towards the building of fortresses in central points scattered across the agricultural landscape (a process similar to what’s known in Italian medieval history as the incastellamento).

    Further south in Sogdiana the excavations have provided further confirmations for these movements of people. The Kaunči type ceramics become abundant in the central Sogdian oasis, especially in Samarkand. And the mass migration of people from the Džetyasar culture is even more marked; their influence is marked in the ceramics and aspects of domestic architecture in the Bukhara, Naḵšab and Guzar oasis, where archaeologists ascribe to them the appearance of small fortified settlements occupying all the available space within the irrigation network, and increasing to the limit the population densities of these oasis.

    Archaeologists have observed that during the IV century the city of Samarkand shrank in size to about a third of its previous surface within the Hellenistic-period walls, and the same can be observed in other Sogdian sites like Erkurgan. The second half of the IV century CE especially witnessed the interruption of regular monetary emissions that dated back to the era of the Graeco-Bactrian kingdom in Sogdiana and Bactria. In the region of Samarkand Soviet archaeologists dated to this age the apparition of a wave of kurgan burials. Everywhere in Sogdiana, but it’s been especially studied in the upper Zarafšān valley, archaeologists have also dated to this period of time the generalization of a new typology of rural habitat formed by small fortified manor houses built in natural defensive locations. Archaeological layers of destruction and fires have been found in many sites in eastern Bactria, while in northern Bactria urban sites saw substantial parts of their walled precincts become depopulated and turned into burial grounds.

    Most scholars, like Étienne de la Vaissière and Frantz Grenet, agree that these disruptions were caused by northern invaders, which must’ve been the Chionitae of Ammianus, the Xiongnu descendants the of Chinese dynastic chronicles, and the Xwn of the Sogdian letters. Frantz Grenet and Nicholas Sims-Williams even suggest a complete interruption of the overland trade routes with China as a result of the sack of Luoyang by the Southern Xiongnu in 311 CE, a situation that would not have been remedied until 437 CE. If something even remotely similar to this really happened, the impact on the trading cities of Sogdiana and Bactria would’ve been disastrous and would have left them deeply weakened in front of the northern onslaught. According to the Japanese scholar Kazuo Enoki, in an unknown date during the second half of the IV century CE, the shock of the invasion reached Samarkand, where its king was killed by the invaders according to the Weishu.

    Étienne de la Vaissière argued in the 2000s, that the Huns migrated south in a single wave in the mid-IV century CE from the Altai, in a view that has since then become accepted in academic circles, against the prevalent view until then that saw in the Chionites, Kidarites and Hephthalites successive waves of invaders from the north. What caused this sudden movement?

    Altai-03.jpg

    View of the Altai mountains, which today stand at the geographic junction between Russia, Mongolia, China and Kyrgyzstan.

    De la Vaissière mostly attributed this migration to climate events. Published findings regarding accumulations of pollen in the lakes of the Altai range point towards a sharp drop in temperatures combined with a rise in humidity that lasted from the middle of the IV century CE through the VI century CE, causing significant change in the vegetation. Likewise, from 340 CE onwards, glaciers advanced in the valleys. The accumulated snow must’ve destroyed most herds in the high plateaus; although the Mongolian horse is able to dig through the snow to feed, its capacity to do so is strictly limited by the depth of the snow cover, and contemporary ethnography has shown the enormous impact that prolonged winters and their blizzards can have on herds of horses: eight million horses, twenty percent of the stock, died for this reason in Mongolia in the winter of 2010. Chinese sources report Hun invasions from the Altai happening exactly in the middle of the IV century CE, without giving any reason for their incursions. De la Vaissière adds that quite plausibly additional factors contributed to the destabilization of Hun societies in the Altai region, but little is known of them. The north slope of the Altai was well beyond the reach of knowledge for the Chinese observers, the only exception being the Weishu text mentioned above. Actually, this is one important point that should also be stressed out, as has been done by critics of De la Vaissière and this theory: actually, the Weishu is a completely isolated testimony, and there are absolutely no other sources that can be used to verify it: similar references that can be found in later Chinese chronicles have actually been borrowed straight from the Weishu and so are worthless in this respect.

    Another possibility, that is not mutually exclusive with the climate hypothesis, is pressure by other nomadic groups. It’s known from Chinese sources that the Rouran/Avar khaganate became active in the IV century CE in Mongolia, even if its power only truly began to develop at the end of that century. De la Vaissière quotes as evidence for this possibility a passage from the V century CE East Roman author Priscus of Panium:

    At this time the Saraguri, Urogi and the Onoguri sent envoys to the eastern Romans. These tribes had left their native lands when the Sabiri attacked them. The latter had been driven out by the Avars who had in turn been displaced by the tribes who lived by the shore of the Ocean.

    De la Vaissière proposes that the Sabiri could be a Xianbei people (again, the Chinese characters for the name Xianbei would’ve been presumably pronounced *Sarbi in Old Chinese), chased out of Mongolia by the developing power of the Rouran/Avars, and they would’ve chased in turn the tribes further west. In this case, the Hunnic groups cited by Priscus (Saraguri, Urogi, and Onoguri) paused in the Kazakh steppe before moving further westward in the middle of the V century CE, later than the main group of the European Huns who had crossed the Volga in 370 CE.

    As I wrote before, it’s unclear where did the real borders of Ērānšahr lay in this area. Frantz Grenet believed that direct Sasanian rule only included the southern bank of the Āmu Daryā (as far downstream as Khwarazm, where according to the Middle Persian text Šahrestānīhā ī Ērānšahr the Sasanian king Narsē built a royal city, and perhaps the most westernmost part of Sogdiana (the lower part of the Zarafšān valley, i.e. the Bukhara oasis). He also believed that the Sasanian vassal kingdom (or viceroyalty, as some authors like to call it) of Kušān Šāhr did not extend north of the Āmu Daryā and must’ve stretched from Herat in the west across Bactriana, crossing the Hindu Kush by way of the Kabul Basin and including Gandhāra.

    According to Khodadad Rezakhani, the two last Kušān Šāhs were:
    • Pērōz 2 (303 – 330 CE).
    • Bahrām (330 – 365 CE).
    After Bahrām Kušān Šāh, the monetary emissions of these kings in the former Kushan territory cease to exist and become replaced by the coinage of the Sasanian Šahān Šāh Šābuhr II. According to Rezakhani’s chronology, this happened after 363 CE, and so after Šābuhr II’s victory over the Roman emperor Julian, when he was forced to return once more to the East. Numismatists first suggested and historians seem to have accepted their views that Šābuhr II was somehow forced to terminate the “viceroyalty” of his eastern cousins because Kušān Šāhr was crumbling under the Chionite/Hunnish attacks and he decided to take personally control over the whole East and recentralize the government, administration and defense of these territories. Numismatic evidence seems to suggest that Bahrām Kušān Šāh only reigned north of the Hindu Kush, because coins dated to his reign have found in Gandhāra issued by the local satraps Mēzē and Kawād in the name of Šābuhr II.

    Peroz-II-Kushanshah.jpg

    Coin of Pērōz 2 Kušān Šāh.

    Bahram-IThe-Indo-Sasanian.jpg

    Gold dinar of Bahrām Kušān Šāh.

    The problem, of course, is that all these are educated guesses with little evidence to support them. In the absence of written sources, numismatics and archaeology can only take us so far. Rezakhani summarizes the probable course of events thus: the first wave of invasion targeted the area north of the Āmu Daryā and the invaders initially overwhelmed eastern Sogdiana and the Badaḵšān Valley, east of the Iron Gates, before crossing the Āmu Daryā and moving southwest towards Termeḏ and Balḵ, into Ṭoḵārestān (and thus into the Sasanian “viceroyalty” of Kušān Šāhr). Rezakhani thinks that is probably the moment when Šābuhr II made a peace treaty with at least some of the clans of these invaders, as attested in Ammianus Marcellinus’ Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI (XVII, 5, 1-2):

    In the consulship of Datianus and Cerealis (i.e. 358 CE), while all provisions in Gaul were being made with very careful endeavor, and dismay due to past losses halted the raids of the savages, the king of Persia was still encamped in the confines of the frontier tribes; and having now made a treaty of alliance with the Chionitae and Gelani, the fiercest warriors of them all, he was on the point of returning to his own territories, when he received Tamsapor’s letter, stating that the Roman emperor begged and entreated for peace.

    Here a new name appears, that of the Gelani, a tribe or people that has been impossible to identify. Some historians think that they could have been the ones to give their name to the region of Gilān in northeastern Iran, but Rezakhani and other historians refute this on the basis that the name Gilān is not attested until the IX century CE, five hundred years later.

    As we will see in the following chapter, after failed peace talks with Constantius II, Šābuhr II marched again against Roman Mesopotamia at the head of an army formed by forces of the eastern part of his possessions, and that included his new Gelani and Chionite allies. The Chionites were commanded by their own king Grumbates, who rode besides Šābuhr II as an equal, a rare honor in Sasanian state ritual. The etymology of the name Grumbates has puzzled historians since the XIX century. Ammianus’ Latin form Grumbates is a direct loan from the Greek form Grumbatés, but before the 1990s this name was unattested anywhere else. But with the discovery and publication of the Bactrian Letters, it appeared in one of the documents in its Bactrian form, Gorambado, as the name of a Bactrian aristocrat of the V century CE. The problem is that as this letter is chronologically later than Ammianus’ text by a century, it’s not possible to ascertain if the name already existed in Bactria or if it was adopted in this country as a result of the Hunnish conquest. What’s certain is that until now the name has not been attested in any Middle Persian, Sogdian, Khwarazmian, Chinese or Sanskrit texts. As a result, scholars have proposed historically two different etymologies for this name. Initially, an Iranian etymology was proposed, but more recently a Turkic etymology for this name has gained acceptance, from Old Turkic *Qurum-pat, meaning "ruling prince". Old Turkic qurum, meaning "rule, leadership, administration" in the form of Krum is attested also to in the names of the Turkic Bulgars that appeared in the Volga and the Balkans in the VIII century CE. What seems clear is that according to Ammianus’ text Grumbates and his Chionites were not Zoroastrians (and hence the were probably not Iranians) because they cremated their dead, which was the ultimate abomination for a practicing Zoroastrian.
     
    8.1 THE RESTART OF OPEN HOSTILITIES BETWEEN ŠĀBUHR II AND THE ROMANS.
  • 8.1 THE RESTART OF OPEN HOSTILITIES BETWEEN ŠĀBUHR II AND THE ROMANS.


    We left Ammianus’ account of the Roman peace proposals at the point when *Tahm-Šābuhr’s letter bearing the Roman proposals reached Šābuhr II, who was still in the East and who had just signed a truce and signed an alliance with the Gelani and Chionites (358 CE). Ammianus’ tale continues thus (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI; XVII, 5.2):

    Therefore, imagining that such a step would not be attempted unless the fabric of the empire were weakened, he swelled with still greater pride, embraced the name of peace, and proposed hard conditions; and dispatching one Narseus with gifts as his envoy, he sent a letter to Constantius, in no wise deviating from his native haughtiness, the tenor of which, as we have learned, was as follows:

    And then Ammianus proceeds to quote the supposed letter of Šābuhr II to Constantius II. Forged letters were a common device of ancient history writers, as a vehicle for bringing immediacy into their tale and an impression that the author was privy to the most secret state affairs (Ammianus was never more than a middle-grade army officer). Of course, almost all of these letters must’ve been inventions, but to some degree they could convey a sense of what must’ve been the general tenor of the actual correspondence between the two rulers (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI; XVII, 5.3-8):

    I, Sapor, King of Kings, partner with the Stars, brother of the Sun and Moon, to my brother Constantius Caesar offer the amplest greeting.
    I rejoice and at last take pleasure that you have returned to the best course and acknowledged the inviolable sanction of justice, having learned from actual experience what havoc has been caused at various times by obstinate covetousness of what belongs to others. Since therefore the consideration of truth ought to be free and untrammeled, and it befits those in high station to speak as they feel, I shall state my proposal in brief terms, recalling that what I am about to say I have often repeated. That my forefathers’ empire reached as far as the river Strymon and the boundaries of Macedonia even your own ancient records bear witness; these lands it is fitting that I should demand, since (and may what I say not seem arrogant) I surpass the kings of old in magnificence and array of conspicuous virtues. But all times right reason is dear to me, and trained in it from my earliest youth, I have never allowed myself to do anything for which I had cause to repent. And therefore, it is my duty to recover Armenia and Mesopotamia, which double-dealing wrested from my grandfather. That principle shall never be brought to acceptance among us which you exultantly maintain, that without any distinction between virtue and deceit all successful events of war should be approved. Finally, if you wish to follow my sound advice, disregard this small tract, always a source of woe and bloodshed, so that you may rule the rest in security, wisely recalling that even expert physicians sometimes cauterize, lance and even cut away some parts of the body, in order to save the rest sound for use; and even that wild beasts do this: for when they observe for what possession they are being relentlessly haunted, they give that up of their own accord, so as afterwards to live free from fear. This assuredly I declare, that if this embassy of mine returns unsuccessful, after the time of the winter rest is past I shall gird myself with all my strength and with fortune and the justice of my terms upholding my hope of a successful issue. I shall hasten to come on, so far as reason permits.

    This (most probably fabricated by Ammianus) letter was every bit as condescending and laced with menace as the letter that Constantine I addressed to the young Šābuhr II as recorded in Eutropius of Caesarea’s work. Šābuhr II was fixated on recovering Mesopotamia and Armenia and he was not going to stop in his attempts to recover them And as could be expected, Constantius II’s reaction to it was as little enthusiastic as Šābuhr II’s reaction to Constantine I’s letter had been (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI; XVII, 5.9-14):

    After this letter had long been pondered, answer was made with upright heart, as they say, and circumspectly, as follows:
    “I, Constantius, victor by land and sea, perpetual Augustus, to my brother King Sapor, offer amplest greeting. I rejoice in your health, and if you will, I shall be your friend hereafter; but this covetousness of yours, always unbending and more widely encroaching, I vehemently reprobate. You demand Mesopotamia as your own and likewise Armenia, and you recommend lopping off some members of a sound body, so that its health may afterwards be put upon a firm footing; advice that is rather to be refuted than to be confirmed by any agreement. Therefore, listen to the truth, not obscured by any juggling, but transparent and not to be intimidated by any empty threats. My praetorian prefect, thinking to undertake an enterprise conducing to the public weal, entered into conversations with a general of yours, through the agency of some individuals of little worth and without consulting me, on the subject of peace. This we neither reject nor refuse, if only it takes place with dignity and honor, without at all prejudicing our self-respect or our majesty. For at this time, when the sequence of events (may envious ears be placated!) has beamed in manifold forms upon us, when with the overthrow of the usurpers the whole Roman world is subject to us, it is absurd and silly to surrender what we long preserved unmolested when we were still confined within the bounds of the Orient. Furthermore, pray make an end of those intimidations which (as usual) are directed against us, since there can be no doubt that it was not through slackness, but through self-restraint that we have sometimes accepted battle rather than offered it, and that when we are set upon, we defend our territories with the most valiant spirit of a good conscience: for we know both by experience and by reading that while in some battles, though rarely, the Roman cause has stumbled, yet in the main issue of our wars it has never succumbed to defeat.”

    In this letter, Constantius II refuses Šābuhr II’s terms and deftly blames his official Musonianus (the praefectus praetorio per Orientem) for the failed peace openings. But the lines that follow this “letter” in Ammianus’ chronicle let see clearly that Constantius II did not feel so secure and self-assured about the strength of his position against a renewed Sasanian offensive. While Šābuhr II had managed to patch things up (albeit temporarily) in Central Asia and was free to attack again the Roman eastern provinces and Armenia, Constantius II and the caesar Julian were still hopelessly embroiled against the Franks, Alamanni and Sarmatians in the Danube and Gaul respectively. Furthermore, the field army of Gaul had been left so weakened by its defeats at Mursa and Mons Seleucus that it was impossible for Constantius II to take all his veteran troops with him to the East at once; first he needed to restore the limes and achieve a minimum of security in Europe. So, let’s continue with Ammianus’ account (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI; XVII, 5.15):

    This embassy having been sent back without obtaining anything (for no fuller answer could be made to the king’s unbridled greed) after a very few days it was followed by the comes Prosperus, Spectatus, tribune and secretary, and likewise, at the suggestion of Musonianus (i.e. the praetorian prefect for the East), the philosopher Eustathius, as a master of persuasion; they carried with them letters of the emperor and gifts, and meanwhile planned by some craft or other to stay Sapor’s preparations, so that his northern provinces might not be fortified beyond the possibility of attack.

    So, Constantius II was forced to send a second embassy to Šābuhr II in order to at least try and gain some time to finish the ongoing war in Europe before the inevitable Sasanian invasion came. But there’s reason to think that the years between 350 and 359 CE had been less peaceful in the Roman East than the sources could lead us to believe. Ammianus’ account of Gallus’ short and eventful rule as caesar in the East informs us that in March 354 CE a food riot broke out in Antioch as Gallus was preparing to march to fight off some “Persian incursions” about which nothing more is said. These incursions (which would have been led by Šābuhr II’s generals during his protracted absence in Central Asia) seem to have penetrated deep enough into Roman territory and have been powerful enough that the invaders managed to sack the city of Celse (location unknown), for which the former Dux Phoeniciae, Serenianus, was brought to trial (and acquitted) in the spring of 354 CE. As we sill see below, Ilkka Syvänne attributes these incursions not to the Sasanians directly, but to their Arab allies.

    Shapur-II-bulla-01.jpg

    Clay bulla with the effigy of Šābuhr II. The legend in Pahlavi script reads: "The Mazdayasnian, the Lord Šābuhr, king of kings of the Iranians and non-Iranians whose seed is from the Gods, son of the Mazdayasnian, the Lord Ohrmazd, king of kings of the Iranians and non-Iranians whose seed is from the Gods, grandson of Lord Narsē, king of kings".

    Ilkka Syvänne goes even further and suggests that the capture of Singara by the Sasanians mentioned by Ammianus happened during Gallus’ rule, at some point in time between 351 and 353 CE. Syvänne argues that if its capture had taken place when Constantius II was still personally in direct charge of the operations in the East Ammianus (who hated him with a passion) would surely have made more of this failure. And secondly he argues that since the sources mention that the Sasanian besiegers were using siege engines captured from Singara against Amida in 359 CE, but not in 350 CE against Nisibis, it could perhaps be that the fall of Singara took place in the 350s during Gallus’ tenure. Syvänne argues astutely that Ammianus’ failure to report it could be due to the fact that the magister equitum in the East at that time was his patron the comes Ursicinus, and so Ammianus would have chosen tactfully to skip over the fact. But still, this is just a hypothesis without any confirmation in the sources, and unsupported by any other authors to the extent of my knowledge.

    According to Irfan Shahid and to Syvänne (who quotes him), the situation in the Roman East deteriorated further during this “peaceful” interlude due to the rebellion of the Arab foederati. Shahid blames Gallus’ policies for this disastrous (for the Romans) turn of events, in which the Lakhmids of Hira changed sides and allied themselves with Šābuhr II, in the same way that they also caused a serious uprising of the Jews in Palestine at around the same time. But Shahid also points out that another likely cause (which is not mutually exclusive with the previous one) could have been Constantius II’ aggressive pro-Arian policies during the 350s (similar policies by emperor Valens would cause another revolt of the Arab foederati later in the same century). Shahid points out that when the extant part of Ammianus’ Res Gestae pick up in 353 CE, the Arabs are already in revolt against Rome, and they are not mentioned by him as Roman allies at any time until the second Peace of Nisibis between Šābuhr II and emperor Jovian in 353 CE. This means that at least since the early 350s, Rome had lost the support of the Arab tribes of the Syrian and northern Arabian desert (although they retained other Arab allies in other parts of Arabia, as we will see later, but these would be of no use in any direct confrontations between the Roman and Sasanian armies in Mesopotamia).


    Missorium-Kerch.jpg

    Image of the so-called “Kerch missorium”, depicting Constantius II. Missoria were engraved decorative dishes made from gold and silver that Late Roman emperors awarded to civilian officials or army officers as a reward for their services, in a similar way that their Sasanian counterparts also produced expensive pieces of silver as gifts in their royal silverworks.

    Tabarī wrote that Šābuhr II nominated Imru' al-Qays’ son ‘Amr ibn Imru’ as ruler of Hira, but on the basis of the length of ‘Amr’s rule (according to Tabarī, Šābuhr II appointed ‘Amr as king of Hira and stated that he remained in office for the remainder of Šābuhr II’s reign [r. 309 - 379 CE], the whole of Ardaxšir II’s [r. 379 - 383 CE] and part of Šābuhr III’s [r. 383 – 388 CE] reign, for a total of 30 years.) it seems that this did not happen immediately after his father’s death in 328 CE. Furthermore, there is also the complication that Tabarī doesn’t mention anywhere the desertion of Imru to the Roman side (attested in epigraphy, as we’ve seen in previous chapters), which makes his account inaccurate and could imply that all references to Hira’s loyalty towards the Sasanians are equally suspect. However, there are other indications that ‘Amr may indeed have changed his allegiance from the Roman side to that of Ērānšahr sometime during the 350s, the year 352 CE being the likeliest date according to Syvänne. He supports this guess on the fact that Ammianus mentions an Arabic raid for the year 352 – 353 CE and very soon after the Ḥimyarites of Yemen began acting as Roman allies against the Lakhmids of Hira. And so, Syvänne thinks it likely that it was in about 352 CE that Šābuhr II appointed Amr as ruler of Hira and he also suggests that the transferal of the Assanitae/Ghassanids to northeast Arabia, near the Hira and the Euphrates regions, took place at the same time as an insurance policy against a possible revolt of ‘Amr.

    The Arab raiders appear to have been quite successful. Syvänne suggests that the pillagers of the city of Celse in the territory of the Dux Phoeniciae had been the former Arab foederati of Rome. Following this speculation, Syvänne also points out that this change of alliances could have been a reason for the possible (according to him; see above) Sasanian succession against Singara around the same time, even if there had also been a failed Sasanian attempt to take Batnae in Oshroene with a surprise attack; in this case, Sasanian deserters had provided a timely warning to the Roman defenders.

    Shapur-II-Drahm-Kabul-320-01.jpg

    Silver drahm of Šābuhr II, issued in the “Mint IX”, a mint located in the eastern part of his empire, probably in Ṭoḵārestān, and tentatively named by numismatists as the “Kabul mint”.

    As it couldn’t be any other way, the situation in Armenia was also highly volatile during this decade. And as is customary, Armenian chronicles offer a highly confused and novelesque account of the events, which requires quite a lot of creative reading and inferring on the part of the reader. Once more, I’m going to follow Ilkka Syvänne’s assessment of the Armenian sources in this respect, and I will make clear my discrepancies or doubts with his assessments. According to Moses of Chorene (History of the Armenians, 3.11):

    In the seventeenth year of his reign Augustus Constantius, son of Constantine, made Tiran, Khosrov’s son, king and sent him to Armenia with Vrt’anēs the Great (i.e. the archbishop who headed the Armenian church). After his arrival he peacefully gained control of our land, making a treaty with the Persians and not war. Paying tribute to the Greeks and a special tribute to the Persians, he lived in tranquility like his father and evinced no deed of bravery or valor (…).

    The seventeenth year of Constantius II’s reign was 354 CE. But Syvänne points out that “king Khosrov” should be emended to “king Tiran” and “king Tiran” to “king Arshak”. In short, it was Arshak who succeeded Tiran, and not Tiran who succeeded Khosrov, and Moses’ dates are also incorrect according to Syvänne; the Armenian chronicler made a mess with events that he put later in his chronicle; Syvänne’s reconstruction is as follows: the succession of Arshak to the Armenian throne would’ve happened in 350 – 351 CE, after his father Tiran had tried to negotiate a truce, peace or even an alliance with the Sasanians. These would’ve taken him prisoner and blinded him (as described in the History of the Armenians, 3.17). According to Syvänne’s reconstruction, Šābuhr II then appointed Tiran’s son Arshak as his successor and took hostages from all of the leading families. So, Armenia had ceased (once more) to be a Roman protectorate to become a Sasanian one. However, Šābuhr II would’ve been unable to fully exploit the situation thanks to the fact that the “northern nations” had invaded and were threatening his borders (History of the Armenians, 3.19). Here I must stop and state that I’m not a scholar like Syvänne, but that at least in Moses’ text there’s something clear: the chronological succession of the Roman augusti from Constantius II to Valentinian I, whose reigns coincided with that of Šābuhr II, is correct. Syvänne here is moving events dated by Moses to the reigns of Valentinian I (or rather his brother Valens, who was joint augustus with him and ruled in the East) back to the reign of Constantius II. The problem is that the events in Moses’ chronicle for the 350s find no confirmation in Graeco-Roman sources or in the Armenian chronicle of Faustus of Byzantium (in other words, for the 350s Moses of Chorene is pretty much our only source for events in Armenia), which leaves everything in the air. So, I must say that I’m not entirely convinced by Syvänne’s reconstruction of events.

    Following Syvänne’s “amended” reading of Moses of Chorene’s chronicle, Arshak followed his pro-Sasanian policies until there was a major nobiliary uprising in Armenia that forced him to seek once again an alliance with the Romans. According to Syvänne. this would have caused a Sasanian invasion in retaliation, that would correspond to the one recorded by Ammianus in 355 CE, and for the figure if eight years of peace between Armenia and the Sasanian empire recorded in the chronicle of Faustus of Byzantium after the flight of the Armenian king from the siege of Nisibis (according to Syvänne’s version of events, as according to Faustus he fled “from Persia”). The Georgian Chronicle also records troubles in the Caucasian kingdom of Iberia, with king “Archil” being enthroned by the Romans after a period of Sasanian occupation; Syvänne hypothesized that this “Archil” could’ve been the same person as the Armenian king Arshak, who would’ve received Roman help to seize the Iberian throne after he switched alliances.

    Constantius-II-355-Solidus-Aquileia-01.jpg

    Gold solidus of Constantius II, issued between 350 and 355 CE. On the obverse: FL(avius) IVL(ius) CONSTANTIVS PERP(etuus) AVG(ustus). On the reverse, GLORIA REI PVBLICAE (“Glory to the republics”, in celebration of the twin capitals of Rome and Constantinople). Mint of Aquileia.

    Syvänne also recalls that the V century CE Arian churchman Philostorgius has preserved a tradition according to which Constantius II sent ambassadors led by Theophilus “the Indian” (which in the context of those times meant that he could’ve been a southern Arab, an Axumite or even a “real” Indian) to Ḥimyar (a kingdom that corresponded to modern Yemen and Oman) to convert their king to Christianity and to allow the building of three churches for the Roman trader communities in the area. This happened at some point in time during the 350s, the usual dating for this being the year 356 CE. Syvänne sees this mission as part of Constantius II’s eastern strategy during this decade, of which the fruitless peace negotiations with Šābuhr II were only one part. According to Philostorgius, Theophilus led the mission because he was a native of the region from the island of Diva/Divus. According to Philostorgius, Theophilus was successful and managed to convert the Jewish Ḥimyarite king to Christianity. He was also allowed to build the three churches, one in Zafar (Ḥimyarite capital), one in Aden (commercial hub) and one at the mouth of the Persian Gulf (another commercial hub), all of which evidently belonged to the Ḥimyarite kingdom.

    If Philostorgius’ account is true, this implies several things. Firstly, the Ḥimyarites had either managed to free themselves from the Aksumite rule, or at least that they had managed to gain considerable autonomy. The evidence suggests that the latter is true, especially because the titles suggest that the Aksumite king had higher ranking. Secondly, the likeliest purpose for the Roman embassy was the forming of an alliance with the Ḥimyarites against the Lakhmids and the Persians, as we will see later. Thirdly, the alliance was sealed by the at least nominal conversion of the king to the official Roman religion. Fourthly, that there was significant presence of Roman merchants in the Ḥimyar ports, large enough to require the building of churches for their use, and which point towards a success of Constantine I and Constantius II’s efforts to restore the Roman trade in the Indian Ocean. According to Philostorgius, during his return trip to the Roman empire, Theophilus stopped in Axum and held talks with the Axumite king ‘Ezana, which according to Syvänne were probably related to a military alliance to enroll the help of the Ḥimyarites, who were Axumite vassals, against the Sasanians and Lakhmids in eastern Arabia, and to protect and foster Roman trade in the Indian Ocean, which the Axumites were in a position to choke if they so wished (as they controlled both sides of the Strait of Aden, and all the southern Arabian coast).

    Stela-Ezana-Axum.jpg

    Stela of king ‘Ezana, in Axum (today in northern Ethiopia).

    But this was not the entire extent of the Roman and Ḥimyarite operations in the area. The Ḥimyarites were busy enlarging their possessions into Baḥrayn and ‘Abd al-Qays, that is, to the Arabian coast of the Persian Gulf, which had been under Sasanian control since Šābuhr II’s campaign against the Arabs. There is archaeological evidence to support this. According to an inscription found in Yemen and dated to June 360 CE, Ḥimyarite forces were at the time fighting in Yamāmah, in central Arabia close to al-Riyāḍ, and in ‘Abd al-Qays. Towards the end of the IV century CE, the Ḥimyarites organized these areas under their client Kingdom of the Kindah, which in turn would fight against the Lakhmids of Hira.

    Amphora-Zafar.jpg

    Late Roman amphora (originating from Aqaba) found in archaeological excavations in Zafar, the ancient capital of the kingdom of Ḥimyar.

    I retake at this point Ammianus’ narrative. According to him, Constantius II has decided to send a second embassy to the Sasanian king. Considering the state of affairs between both empires, it’s quite improbable that Constantius II did so in good faith; he was probably just trying to win time before the inevitable Sasanian invasion. During the “peaceful interlude” of the 350s, the Romans had suffered a major blow with the defection of the Lakhmids; although they had managed to salvage the situation in Armenia (if Syvänne’s interpretation of Moses of Chorene’s chronicle is true), the situation in Mesopotamia looked better now for the Sasanians than in 350 CE; they had a new and useful ally in the region which could launch deep raids into Roman territory through the desert and provide the Sasanians with intelligence about the Roman defenses, and Šābuhr II had managed to not only reach a truce of some sort in Central Asia, but he’d been also able to recruit some of his former enemies as allies, while Constantius II and the caesar Julian were still busy fighting in the Rhine and Danube. While the Romans had managed to recruit the Axumites and Ḥimyarites as allies (and this alliance was important on a strategical scale) these allies were of no use in the Mesopotamian and Armenian was theater. Constantius II, who was a deft and experienced ruler and diplomat, must’ve been well aware of this, and so I think that this second embassy must’ve been just a ruse to gain as much time as possible. And probably his Sasanian adversaries also realized this, because the embassy was a failure. According to Ammianus (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI; XVII, 14.1-2):

    On these very same days Prosper, Spectatus, and Eustathius, who had been sent as envoys to the Persians (as we have shown above), approached the king on his return to Ctesiphon, bearing letters and gifts from the emperor, and demanded peace with no change in the present status. Mindful of the emperor’s instructions, they sacrificed no whit of the advantage and majesty of Rome, insisting that a treaty of friendship ought to be established with the condition that no move should be made to disturb the position of Armenia or Mesopotamia. Having therefore tarried there for a long time, since they saw that the king was most obstinately hardened against accepting peace, unless the dominion over those regions should be made over to him, they returned without fulfilling their mission.

    As you can see, Šābuhr II had already returned from Central Asia to Ctesiphon, and the second embassy was a complete failure. But Constantius II then sent a third embassy to the Sasanian king (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI; XVII, 14.3):

    Afterwards the comes Lucillianus was dispatched, together with Procopius, at that time state secretary, to accomplish the self-same thing with like insistence on the conditions (…)

    This embassy also failed, and the next bit of news about the Sasanians that we can read in Ammianus’ book deals with their preparations for a great-scale invasion. Constantius II was still based in Sirmium, fighting against the Sarmatians and Quadi, and Julian was in Gaul fighting against the Alamanni and Franks (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI; XVIII, 4.1-7):

    While at Sirmium these matters were being investigated with all diligence, the fortune of the Orient kept sounding the dread trumpets of danger; for the king of Persia, armed with the help of the savage tribes which he had subdued, and burning with superhuman desire of extending his domain, was preparing arms, forces, and supplies, embroiling his plans with infernal powers and consulting all superstitions about the future; and having assembled enough of these, he planned with the first mildness of spring to overrun everything. And when news of this came, at first by rumors and then by trustworthy messengers, and great dread of impending disasters held all in suspense, the forge of the courtiers, hammering day and night at the instigation of the eunuchs on the same anvil (as the saying is), held up Ursicinus to the suspicious and timid emperor as a grim-visaged gorgon, often reiterating these and similar charges: that he, having on the death of Silvanus been sent as if in default of better men, to defend the east, was panting for higher honors. Furthermore, by this foul and excessive flattery very many strove to purchase the favor of Eusebius, then head-chamberlain, upon whom (if the truth must be told) Constantius greatly depended, and who was vigorously attacking the safety of the aforesaid commander of the cavalry for a double reason: because he alone of all was not, like the rest, adding to Eusebius’ wealth, and would not give up to him his house at Antioch, which the head-chamberlain most importunately demanded. Eusebius then, like a viper swelling with abundant poison and arousing its multitudinous brood to mischief when they were still barely able to crawl, sent out his chamberlains, already well grown, with directions that, amid the duties of their more private attendance, with the soft utterances of voices always childish and persuasive they should with bitter hatred batter the reputation of that brave man in the too receptive ears of the prince. And they promptly did what they were ordered. Through disgust with these and their kind, I take pleasure in praising Domitian of old, for although, unlike his father and his brother, he drenched the memory of his name with indelible detestation, yet he won distinction by a most highly approved law, by which he had under heavy penalties forbidden anyone within the bounds of the Roman jurisdiction to geld a boy; for if this had not happened, who could endure the swarms of those whose small number is with difficulty tolerated? However, Eusebius proceeded warily, lest (as he pretended) that same Ursicinus, if again summoned to court, should through fear cause general disturbance, but actually that he might, whenever chance should give the opportunity, be hauled off to execution.
    While they held these plots in abeyance and were distracted by anxious thoughts, and I was staying for a time at Samosata, the famous seat of the former kingdom of Commagene, on a sudden repeated and trustworthy rumors were heard of new commotions; and of these the following chapter of my history shall tell.

    This passage is dated to 358 CE, and in it it’s clearly stated that Šābuhr II was planning to launch his invasion the following spring. Apart from offering this information in the first lines, Ammianus uses up the rest of the passage to rant with a colorful language against the “intriguers” in Constantius II’s court (chief amongst them the chamberlain Eusebius) for “poisoning” the emperor’s mind against the magister equitum Ursicinus, who was Ammianus’ patron. By the way, the “Domitian” he’s referring to is the I century CE emperor Domitian, who issued a law forbidding the castration of slaves (as Eusebius was himself a eunuch). Ammianus is an invaluable source for us, but neither him nor any other ancient author had any notion of “impartiality” as understood in our times, so he freely mixes his (quite accurate in general) account of historical events with his personal agenda, including petty vendettas and grudges (the Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI were published around 391 CE in Rome, so his attacks against Constantius II’s former chamberlain were by then a purely personal issue). In the passage after this one, Ammianus offers an important bit of news (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI; XVIII, 5.1-3):

    There was a certain Antoninus, at first a rich merchant, then an accountant in the service of the governor of Mesopotamia, and finally one of his bodyguards, a man of experience and sagacity, who was widely known throughout all that region. This man, being involved in great losses through the greed of certain powerful men, found on contending against them that he was more and more oppressed by unjust means, since those who examined the case were inclined to curry favor with men of higher position. Accordingly, in order not to kick against the pricks, he turned to mildness and flattery and acknowledged the debt, which by collusion had been transferred to the account of the privy purse (i.e. to the imperial treasury). And then, planning to venture upon a vast enterprise, he covertly pried into all parts of the entire empire, and being versed in the language of both tongues (i.e. Latin and Greek), busied himself with calculations, making record of what troops were serving anywhere or of what strength, or at what time expeditions would be made, inquiring also by tireless questioning whether supplies of arms, provisions, and other things that would be useful in war were at hand in abundance. And when he had learned the internal affairs of the entire Orient, since the greater part of the troops and the money for their pay were distributed through Illyricum, where the emperor was distracted with serious affairs, and as the stipulated time would soon be at hand for paying the money which he was compelled by force and threats to admit by written bond that he owed, foreseeing that he must be crushed by all manner of dangers on every side, since the comes sacrarum largitionum (i.e. the imperial “secretary of finances” in charge of the government’s expenses) through favor to his creditor was pressing him more urgently, he made a great effort to flee to the Persians with his wife, his children, and all his dear ones. And to the end that he might elude the sentinels, he bought at no great price a farm in Iaspis, a place washed by the waters of the Tigris. And since because of this device no one ventured to ask one who was now a landholder with many attendants his reason for coming to the utmost frontier of the Roman empire, through friends who were loyal and skilled in swimming he held many secret conferences with Tamsapor, then acting as governor of all the lands across the river, whom he already knew; and when active men had been sent to his aid from the Persian camp, he embarked in fishing boats and ferried over all his beloved household in the dead of night, like Zopyrus, that famous betrayer of Babylon, but with the opposite intention.

    According to the developments of the 359 CE campaign as reported by Ammianus, the desertion of Antoninus would have serious consequences for the Romans. The word that Ammianus uses to describe Antoninus’ rank when he deserted to the Sasanians is protector, and that means probably that Antoninus was a member of the same elite corps to which Ammianus himself belonged, the protectores domestici. This was one of the units of the imperial guard, it was used as a nursery for future officers of the army and its members were often charged with secret and delicate tasks, like Ammianus himself was to be during the oncoming campaign, like espionage and the gathering of information. Once more we see the name of Šābuhr II’s trusted official in charge of the western border *Tahm-Šābuhr being quoted in Ammianus’ account, in what by all means was an important success by the Sasanian intelligence system just on the eve of war. Having reported this, Ammianus resumes his rant about the intriguers in Constantius II’s court and the injustices inflicted upon his beloved patron the magister equitum Ursicinus (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI; XVIII, 5.4-5):

    After affairs in Mesopotamia had been brought to this pass, the Palace gang (sic. 1940 J.C. Rolfe’s English translation from the Latin original), chanting the old refrain with a view to our destruction, at last found an opportunity for injuring the most valiant of men (i.e. Ursicinus, of course), aided and abetted by the corps of eunuchs, who are always cruel and sour, and since they lack other offspring, embrace riches alone as their most dearly beloved daughters. So it was decided that Sabinianus, a cultivated man, it is true, and well to-do, but unfit for war, inefficient, and because of his obscurity still far removed from obtaining magisterial rank, should be sent to govern the eastern regions; but that Ursicinus should return to court to command the infantry and succeed Barbatio: to the end that by his presence there that eager inciter to revolution (as they persisted in calling him) might be open to the attacks of his bitter and formidable enemies.

    In short, according to Ammianus, his patron the magister equitum Ursicinus was recalled by Constantius II to Europe in order to take the post of the magister peditum Barbatio (who had operated in Gaul with Julian and later in Raetia against the Franks and Alamanni before being beheaded together with his wife for high treason due to a compromising letter, according to Ammianus). Ammianus clearly implies that this was a demotion (and to a certain point it was, as cavalry officers had seniority over the same ranks for the infantry), and that Ursicinus’ substitute as magister equitum in the East, Sabinianus, was incompetent for the task. As you can see, Ammianus didn’t even try to appear impartial in these lines. Ammianus continues his account by recalling how Antoninus was received in Šābuhr II’s court with open arms and how Sabinianus took over Ursicinus’ office, and the latter departed for Europe. And then Ammianus explains how the absence of (the greatly admired and feared by the Sasanians) Ursicinus emboldened the enemy to invade, as they despised his successor Sabinianus (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI; XVIII, 6.3-):

    We believe (and in fact there is no doubt of it) that Rumor flies swiftly through the paths of air, since it was through her circulation of the news of these events that the Persians held council as to their course of action. And after long debate to and fro it was decided, on the advice of Antoninus, that since Ursicinus was far away and the new commander was lightly regarded, they should give up the dangerous sieges of cities, pass the barrier of the Euphrates, and push on with the design of outstripping by speed the news of their coming and seizing upon the provinces, which in all previous wars (except in the time of Gallienus) had been untouched and had grown rich through long-continued peace; and Antoninus promised that with God’s favor he would be a most helpful leader in this enterprise. When this plan had been commended and approved by unanimous consent, all turned their attention to such things as must be amassed with speed; and so, the preparation of supplies, soldiers, weapons, and other equipment which the coming campaign required, went on all winter long.

    This is an important fragment, for according to Ammianus it was the deserter Antoninus who convinced Šābuhr II to change the strategy he had followed in previous campaigns: instead of attacking the fortified cities of Mesopotamia, the Sasanian king should bypass them and attack directly the “soft targets” of the Roman rearguard, in Syria and Anatolia. We will leave Ammianus’ account here, but in the next chapter, which will cover the 359 CE campaign and the siege of Amida, we will see that some modern scholars think that there is good reason to believe that Ammianus was sorely mistaken and that what Šābuhr II intended with his renewed war effort was not simply pillaging the rich Roman eastern possessions, but to conquer Mesopotamia once and for all, but that this time he would change his approach: instead of concentrating all his efforts against what was obviously the very well defended city of Nisibis, he would try to conquer first the outer ring of Roman fortresses that shielded Nisibis to the east and north, and only then, once his lines of communication with Ērānšahr were secure, would Šābuhr II try again his luck against Nisibis.
     
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    8.2 THE SIEGE OF AMIDA. THE APPROACH OF THE SASANIAN ARMY.
  • 8.2 THE SIEGE OF AMIDA. THE APPROACH OF THE SASANIAN ARMY.

    Finally, in 359 CE Šābuhr II invaded again the Roman Empire in force. This campaign is narrated with extraordinarily lavish detail by Ammianus Marcellinus, who took part in it personally and who according to his account narrowly escaped with his life on a couple of occasions. But despite this apparent trustworthiness of the source, I won’t follow Ammianus uncritically. For starters, Ammianus was not an impartial observer, and more often than not he acts as a cheerleader for his patron Ursicinus and allowed his bias (or even hatred) towards certain people to show, particularly emperor Constantius II and the Ursicinus’ rival commander Sabinianus. And let’s not forget that despite everything, Ammianus was never more than a mere guardsman, and he was not privy to the really important strategical military decisions. As we will see, more than once Ammianus shows a certain degree of overall ignorance and even naivety about the events of the campaign.

    Shapur-II-Bust-02.jpg

    Silver bust of a Sasanian king, thought to be Šābuhr II.

    According to Ammianus, when the news of the ongoing Sasanian invasion reached Constantius II, he immediately ordered the magister equitum Ursicinus, whom he had recalled to Europe and who had already reached Thrace, to turn back and return to Mesopotamia as fast as possible; according to Ammianus he was accompanying Ursicinus during this aborted trip (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI, XVIII, 6.5-7):

    We meanwhile lingered for a time on this side the Taurus, and then in accordance with our orders were hastening to the regions of Italy and had come to the vicinity of the river Hebrus (i.e. the modern Maritza River), which flows down from the mountains of the Odrysae; there we received the emperor’s dispatch, which without offering any excuse ordered us to return to Mesopotamia without any attendants and take charge of a perilous campaign, after all power had been transferred to another. This was devised by the mischievous molders of the empire with the idea that, if the Persians were baffled and returned to their own country, the glorious deed would be attributed to the ability of the new leader; but if Fortune proved unfavorable, Ursicinus would be accused as a traitor to his country. Accordingly, after careful consideration, and long hesitation, we returned, to find Sabinianus a man full of haughtiness, but of insignificant stature and small and narrow mind, barely able to endure the slight noise of a banquet without shameful apprehension, to say nothing of the din of battle.

    As you can see, Ursicinus and Sabinianus were expected to share the overall command of all the Roman forces in the eastern theater, and if we are to believe Ammianus’ account, the relations between both commanders were less than friendly. Of course, Ammianus doesn’t waste a single opportunity to insult and belittle Sabinianus, ignoring that he had been previously dux Mesopotamiae (and so he was an experienced military officer in the area) and that Constantius II until then had never appointed incompetent commanders to important posts (although he’d appointed some disloyal ones). Most importantly, Ammianus also omits a key bit of information: he says nothing about the command arrangements between Sabinianus and Ursicinus. As magister equitum, Ursicinus should’ve been the senior commander, but actually according to Ammianus’ report of the campaign he seems to have acted as the junior partner. Some authors like Syvänne state that when Constantius II recalled Ursicinus to Europe to take the post of the recently executed Barbatio, this must’ve been a de facto demotion, as Barbatio had been the magister peditum for the army of Gaul, and so with this appointment Ursicinus was being demoted from magister equitum to magister peditum. These scholars also think that Ursicinus’ removal from Mesopotamia must’ve also implied that Sabinianus was risen by Constantius II to the rank of magister equitum, but I’ve been unable to find any passage in Ammianus’ work where he wrote explicitly about this, so I’m unsure about where they base this assumption. Although this theory has the advantage that it helps to explain Ammianus’ extreme hostility towards Sabinianus and towards Constantius II; Ursicinus was his patron and mentor in the army, and any setback he suffered was automatically also a setback for Ammianus’ future career prospects.

    Based on the events of Ammianus’ account, John Harrel proposed that Sabinianus was the “senior” commander, and that he led a reduced Field Army of the East, perhaps 20,000 strong, probably with strict orders by Constantius II of not risking an open battle if the numbers and the terrain were not favorable to him. His main mission would have been to secure the passes of the Euphrates and avoid any Sasanian invasion of the rich provinces of Syria and Cilicia, while at the same time posing a potential menace against the Sasanian rearguard if Šābuhr II besieged Nisibis again, as the Romans thought he would, based on the previous campaigns.

    Roman-Meopotamia-337.png

    Map of the Roman defensive system in northern Mesopotamia, according to John Harrel (The Nisibis War: The Defense of the Roman East AD 337-363).

    And according to Harrel, Ursicinus as the “junior” commander would have been put in command of a smaller, more mobile army tasked with protecting the outer ring of fortresses that protected Roman Mesopotamia and harass the Sasanians if they decided to besiege Nisibis. For this task, Ursicinus was put in command of three Gallic legions that Constantius II had ordered the caesar Julian to transfer to the east in 358 CE:
    • Magnentiani
    • Decimani
    • Legio XXX Ulpia Victrix
    These were legions which had joined Magnentius’ usurpation and which were considered still somewhat “disloyal”, so transferring them to the East was mostly a political measure. To these forces, Ursicinus also added two units of Equites Illyricani, an elite unit of Comites Sagitarii (horse archers) and the two elite “light legions”) Superventores and Praeventores commanded by the comes Aelianus. All in all, a force of around 4,000 men. Harrel also thinks that Ursicinus would’ve commanded the limitanei forces posted in Mesopotamia and the regiones Transtigritanae, with authority over the Dux Mesopotamiae, an assumption that seems credible based on the fact that according to Ammianus’ account Ursicinus issued direct orders to this official. This implies that Ursicinus was directly responsible for the security of all the Roman fortresses in the area, and unenviable task, as these would probably be the primary objective of Šābuhr II.

    Ursicinus and Sabinianus led operations independently one from the other, perhaps due to different temperaments, different instructions from the emperor or different understandings of the strategic priorities. For Sabinianus, defense in depth was primordial, and he would not risk the field army under any circumstances (probably under direct orders of Constantius II), while Ursicinus was willing to tale risks and fight closer to the border. Sabinianus was willing to leave the defense of the fortresses to their garrisons, while Ursicinus wanted to take a more active role and support them by harassing the Sasanians as much as possible; which is understandable if indeed he was directly responsible for the defense of the fortresses.

    The account of Ammianus now becomes extremely lively, as he narrates some actions in which he personally took place, and which perhaps he used to embellish his accomplishments for his public. I will quote it here, but I will cut out the parts that are not relevant to our overall story (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI, XVIII, 6.8-15):

    Nevertheless, since scouts, and deserters agreeing with them, most persistently declared that the enemy were pushing all their preparations with hot haste, while the manikin (i.e. Sabinianus) yawned, we hastily marched to Nisibis, to prepare what was useful, lest the Persians, masking their design of a siege, might surprise the city when off its guard. And while within the walls the things that required haste were being pushed vigorously, smoke and gleaming fires constantly shone from the Tigris on past Castra Maurorum and Sisara and all the neighboring country as far as the city, in greater number than usual and in a continuous line, clearly showing that the enemy’s bands of plunderers had burst forth and crossed the river. Therefore, for fear that the roads might be blocked, we hastened on at full speed (…) For a tribune called Abdigildus was fleeing with his camp-servant, pursued by a troop of the enemy’s cavalry. And while the master made his escape, they caught the slave and asked him (just as I passed by at full gallop) who had been appointed governor. And when they heard that Ursicinus had entered the city a short time before and was now on his way to Mount Izala, they killed their informant and a great number, got together into one body, followed me with tireless speed. When through the fleetness of my mount I had outstripped them and come to Amudis, a weak fortress, I found our men lying about at their ease, while their horses had been turned out to graze. Extending my arm far forward and gathering up my cloak and waving it on high, I showed by the usual sign that the enemy were near and joining with them I was hurried along at their pace, although my horse was now growing tired. We were alarmed, moreover, by the fact that it was full moon at night and by the level stretch of plain, which (in case any pressing emergency surprised us) could offer no hiding places, since neither trees nor shrubs were to be seen, but nothing except short grass. Therefore we devised the plan of placing a lighted lantern on a single pack-animal, binding it fast, so that it should not fall off, and then turning loose the animal that carried the light and letting him go towards the left without a driver, while we made our way to the mountain heights lying on the right, in order that the Persians, supposing that a tallow torch was carried before the general as he went slowly on his way, should take that course rather than any other; and had it not been for this stratagem, we should have been surrounded and captured and come into the power of the enemy.

    Ursicinus and Ammianus crossed the Euphrates and hurried to Nisibis. This strongly fortified city was the key to the defensive system of Roman Mesopotamia, and thanks to its elevated position at the feet of the Tur Abdin mountains (Mons Izala to the Romans) it offered commanding views of the northern Mesopotamian plain all the way to the Jebel Sinjar to the south. They found the garrison of Nisibis was already reading the fortress for a siege, and that all due preparations were being undertaken.

    What Ammianus and Ursicinus could see when they looked to the Tigris (and thus to the border with the Sasanians) was a multitude of fires, a sign that the enemy vanguard, formed possibly mostly by light cavalry, had crossed the border and was laying waste to the countryside and trying to capture prisoners, gather intelligence and obstruct the movement of Roman troops. These vanguards had already penetrated deeply into Roman territory and had managed to get intelligence about Ursicinus’ intended move from Nisibis to the north (by capturing and torturing the slave of a Roman tribune near Nisibis), because as Ammianus (and Ursicinus) were leaving Nisibis towards the nearby Tur Abdin mountains, they were nearly captured by Sasanian horsemen, but they managed to escape narrowly thanks to a ruse. The adventures of Ammianus and his master did not end here, for next they captured a Roman deserter who had become a Sasanian spy (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI, XVIII, 6.16):

    Saved from this danger, we came to a wooded tract planted with vineyards and fruit-bearing orchards, called Meiacarire, so named from its cold springs. There all the inhabitants had decamped, but we found one soldier hiding in a remote spot. He, on being brought before the general, because of fear gave contradictory answers and so fell under suspicion. But influenced by threats made against him, he told the whole truth, saying that he was born at Paris in Gaul and served in a cavalry troop; but in fear of punishment for a fault that he had once committed he had deserted to the Persians. Then, being found to be of upright character, and to have married and reared children, he was sent as a spy to our territories and often brought back trustworthy news. But now he had been sent out by the grandees Tamsapor and Nohodares, who had led the bands of pillagers, and was returning to them, to report what he had learned. After this, having added what he knew about what the enemy were doing, he was put to death.

    Here we find a known name: Tamsapor (*Tahm-Šābuhr), the Sasanian commander of the border who accepted the Roman proposal for peace talks, who had led the constant low-scale raiding into Roman Mesopotamia during the “peace” years and who had arranged the defection of Antoninus. As we will see, he continued to have a very active part in the war against the Romans commanding important Sasanian forces, a sign of the favor he carried with the Šahān Šāh. Most probably, he was an expert in what today we would call “intelligence gathering”, raiding and cavalry warfare in general, for he seems to have been the commander of the Sasanian vanguard. As for the other “grandee”, Nohodares, less is known about him. Kaveh Farrokh and Katarzyna Maksymiuk proposed that (as is quite common in Latin and Greek writers) Ammianus confused one of his titles with his name, and that Nohodares would’ve been a Greek corruption of the Parthian *Naxvadār, meaning “holder of the primacy”; this was the title that received the title holder in a Parthian noble clan/house (from where the Armenian word naxarar, meaning “grandee” was derived). This Nohodares was the commander of the Sasanian coup de main against the city of Batnae during Gallus’ brief tenure as caesar in the East, and so he was also possibly a commander well suited to command an invading vanguard formed by cavalry tasked with gathering intelligence, pillaging and breaking down Roman communications as much as possible.

    After these two encounters, Ursicinus and his escort hastened to Amida, the main Roman fortress at the foot of the Tur Abdin mountains on the Tigris, and which commanded the main roads between the northern Mesopotamian plain, the Armenian Plateau and the accesses to Roman Cappadocia from the east. According to Ammianus, once they’d reached Amida they received an encrypted message sent by the notarius Procopius, who had been a member of Constantius II’s last and failed embassy to the Sasanian king, in which he informed Ursicinus that Šābuhr II had left Ctesiphon with a huge invasion army and had crossed the Anzaba River (the Greater Zab). He also informed them that, spurred on by the traitor Antoninus, Šābuhr II:

    (…) the king of the Persians had crossed the rivers Anzaba and Tigris, and, urged on by Antoninus, aspired to the rule of the entire Orient.

    As we will see, Ammianus gives an extreme importance to the role of Antoninus and gives him credit for almost directing the whole invasion, with Šābuhr II following his commands to the letter. Given what we’ve seen of Šābuhr II’s character, and the fact that by then he was a mature man who had been constantly at war un the west and east for more than thirty years, I find quite hard to believe that he would happily agree to follow slavishly the advice of a Roman defector (who was not even an experienced soldier himself, Antoninus had been a member of the protectores, but had been in charge of administrative affairs) in strategic matters. He probably listened to Antoninus’ advice, but in my opinion the Šahān Šāh took all the important decisions himself.

    Upon receiving this message, Ursicinus decided to send Ammianus to Corduene, one of the regiones Transtigritanae, to gather information about the approach of the main Sasanian army (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI, XVIII, 6.20-22):

    There was at that time in Corduene, which was subject to the Persian power, a satrap called Jovinianus on Roman soil, a youth who had secret sympathy with us for the reason that, having been detained in Syria as a hostage and allured by the charm of liberal studies, he felt a burning desire to return to our country. To him I was sent with a centurion of tried loyalty, for the purpose of getting better informed of what was going on; and I reached him over pathless mountains and through steep defiles. After he had seen and recognized me, and received me cordially, I confided to him alone the reason for my presence. Thereupon with one silent attendant who knew the country he sent me to some lofty cliffs a long distance from there, from which, unless one’s eyesight was impaired, even the smallest object was visible at a distance of fifty miles. There we stayed for two full days, and at dawn of the third day we saw below us the whole circuit of the lands filled with innumerable troops with the king leading the way, glittering in splendid attire. Close by him on the left went Grumbates, king of the Chionitae, a man of moderate strength, it is true, and with shriveled limbs, but of a certain greatness of mind and distinguished by the glory of many victories. On the right was the king of the Albani, of equal rank, high in honor. After them came various leaders, prominent in reputation and rank, followed by a multitude of every degree, chosen from the flower of the neighboring nations and taught to endure hardship by long continued training.

    This fragment of Ammianus’ work is filled with important information. He writes that Corduene, one of the regiones Transtigritanae ceded to Rome by the Treaty of Nisibis of 299 CE was “subjected to Persian power”, and that it was ruled by a certain Jovinianus, who despite his Roman name, receives the Iranian title of “satrap”, implying that he was a governor of the region in the name of the Sasanian king. This means that at some point between 299 and 359 CE, the Roman governor of Corduene had reached an agreement with the Sasanians by which he became the hereditary satrap of the region, and a subject of the Šahān Šāh.

    Despite this, this “young” Jovinianus had pro-Roman sympathies (or perhaps he was unsure of the outcome of the conflict and was trying to navigate in troubled waters) and facilitated Ammianus’ task by guiding him to a perfect spot to observe the marching Sasanian army. Šābuhr II marched in front of his troops, and was flanked by two allied kings: Grumbates, king of the Chionitae on his left and the king of the Albani (a kingdom in the eastern Caucasus) to his right. With typical exaggeration, Ammianus describes Šābuhr II’s army as “innumerable”, but what seems clear is that the invasion force was huge, much larger than anything the Romans could hope to assemble in the East as long as Constantius II and Julian were still busy in the Rhine and Danube. Syvänne and Harrel estimate the total invasion force (both the vanguard that had already crossed into Roman Mesopotamia and the main army led by the Šahān Šāh himself) at around 100,000 men, a truly gigantic army for the time. But we should keep in mind that not all this army was Iranian. As we will see further on, Šābuhr II’s army was divided into five main contingents:
    • The Chionitae, led by their king Grumbates, until very recently they had been Šābuhr II’s enemies and had waged war against him for ten years in Central Asia.
    • The Gelani, another Central Asian people about whom nothing is known; Ammianus does not describe them as being led by a king.
    • The Albani, a people of the eastern Caucasus (roughly corresponding to the modern state of Azerbaijan), led by their king.
    • The Segestanis (i.e. the Sakas) from eastern Iran; interestingly Ammianus describes them as forming their own separate contingent, separated from the “Persians” proper. And even more interestingly, Ammianus writes that the corps of elephants was included in the Segestani contingent. I will get into more detail about this force later in the chapter.
    • The “Persians” proper (meaning the Iranians, not only the soldiers from Pārs), under the direct command of Šābuhr II himself. During the bloody siege of Amida, this contingent was held in reserve by Šābuhr II, who used the other four contingents as cannon fodder during the assaults against the walls; so that the majority of the losses incurred by the besiegers were suffered by these “foreign” forces, leaving the Iranian core of the army as intact as possible.
    Ammianus continues his summary of his spying activities thus (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI, XVIII, 7.1-2):

    After the kings had passed by Nineveh, a great city of Adiabene, and after sacrificing victims in the middle of the bridge over the Anzaba (i.e. the Great Zab) and finding the omens favorable, had crossed full of joy, I judged that all the rest of the throng could hardly enter in three days; so I quickly returned to the satrap and rested, entertained with hospitable attentions. Then I returned, again passing through deserted and solitary places, more quickly than could be expected, led as I was by the great consolation of necessity, and cheered the spirits of those who were troubled because they were informed that the kings, without any detour, had crossed on a single bridge of boats.

    I find here something strange in Ammianus’ account. He writes that he went to Corduene to spy on the advancing enemy army, which was marching along the Tigris’ eastern bank northwards, but then he says that he observed the three kings crossing the Great Zab near Nineveh, in Adiabene. This is geographically correct, as ancient Nineveh lies near modern Mosul, which is located near the junction between the Great Zab and the Tigris. But the problem is that this tract of land is located quite to the south of Corduene, at least according to the maps that I have consulted, so something doesn’t add up, at least in my opinion. Nineveh was located exactly at the same latitude as the Roman fortress of Singara, and it was probably the point where Šābuhr II had begun all his previous invasions of Roman Mesopotamia.

    Tigris-River-Near-Mosul.jpg

    View of the Tigris River near modern Mosul (also near ancient Nineveh), where the main Sasanian army would have crossed the river into Roman territory.

    Ammianus returned immediately to bring the news to Ursicinus, who reacted by issuing a stream of commands to his subordinates and the military (dux Mesopotamiae) and civilian governors of the province (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI, XVIII, 7.3-6):

    Therefore at once swift horsemen were sent to Cassianus, commander in Mesopotamia, and to Euphronius, then governor of the province, to compel the peasants with their households and all their flocks to move to safer quarters, directing also that the city of Carrhae should quickly be abandoned, since the town was surrounded only by weak fortifications; and in addition that all the plains be set on fire, to prevent the enemy from getting fodder. These orders were executed without delay, and when the fires had been kindled, the mighty violence of that raging element consumed all the grain, which was filled out on the now yellowing stalk, and every kind of growing plant, so utterly that from the very banks of the Tigris all the way to the Euphrates not a green thing was to be seen (…).
    While the plains were burning (as was said), tribunes were sent with the guard and fortified the nearer bank of the Euphrates with towers, sharp stakes, and every kind of defense, planting hurling-engines in suitable places, where the river was not full of eddies.

    As you can see, Ursicinus reacted swiftly and took drastic measures: he ordered the military governor of the province Cassianus and the civilian one Euphronius to implement a ruthless scorched earth policy (to deny not only food to the Sasanian troops, but especially fodder for their horses), to compel by force every inhabitant of the province to take refuge in fortified places (leaving their houses, fields and crops behind to be looted and burnt by the invaders) and finally he sent tribunes with “the guard” to guard the Euphrates’ crossings. Scholars understand this sentence by Ammianus as a reference that Ursicinus detached his best troops, detachments of the elite units of the protectores domestici, to guard and fortify the Euphrates’ crossings. The more drastic measure was perhaps the complete abandonment of the city of Carrhae, as its walls were deemed too weak to withstand a Sasanian attack. If these measures were undertaken with the swiftness and ruthlessness that Ammianus implies, it’s a testament to the effectiveness and efficacy of the reformed late Roman administrative system set up by Diocletian and Constantine I. Ammianus’ text also leaves some things unsaid that can be guessed from the text. First, that the Romans intended to follow a purely defensive policy, and had no intention to oppose the crossing of the Tigris by Šābuhr II’s main army, and that they were disposed to take extreme measures to secure the defense in depth of the province: scorched earth, abandonment of non-defensible sites (including a major city) and forced evacuation of the civilian population, and that they were so worried about the danger posed by the Sasanian army that Ursicinus even sent his best troops to guard the Euphrates’ crossings, thus removing them from the first-line and effectively securing that they would see no action in the oncoming campaign and would just sit down in the rearguard doing nothing. Obviously, Ammianus did not waste the opportunity to attack Sabinianus, comparing his idleness to Ursicinus’ display of energy (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI, XVIII, 7.7):

    While these preparations were being hastened, Sabinianus, that splendid choice of a leader in a deadly war, when every moment should have been seized to avert the common dangers, amid the tombs of Edessa, as if he had nothing to fear when he had made his peace with the dead, and acting with the wantonness of a life free from care, in complete inaction was being entertained by his soldiers with a pyrrhic dance, in which music accompanied the gestures of the performers; conduct ominous both in itself and in its occasion, since we learn that these and similar things that are ill-omened in word and deed ought to be avoided by every good man as time goes on as foreboding coming troubles.

    The Pyrrhic dance was an ancient form of Greek war dance, of Spartan or Cretan origins, and although by the Roman era it had become a religious and public spectacle, it was still a form of military training. So, reading between Ammianus’ bitter lines, it’s probable that Sabinianus was drilling his field army at Edessa, as any responsible commander would do while he waited for the Sasanian intentions to become clearer. Also, given that Sabinianus was Ursicinus’ superior, I find it quite hard to believe that the latter would’ve been able to utter such drastic commands as the ones described by Ammianus without Sabinianus’ knowledge and approval. Furthermore, the choice of Edessa as a base for the Field Army of the East was a sound one, as it was a well-fortified city located midway between the Euphrates and Nisibis. If the Sasanian army chose to besiege Nisibis again, the Roman army would be well located to pose a menace for the Sasanian besiegers, if the Sasanians advanced directly towards Edessa, the Roman army could move swiftly behind the Euphrates destroying the bridges behind it, and if the Sasanians tried to head directly towards the Euphrates, the Roman army was well located to cross the river ahead of them and block the two main crossings in the area, Zeugma in the south (leading to Syria and Antioch) and Samosata to the north (leading to Melitene and Caesarea in Cappadocia). Considering Constantius II’s very cautious actions during previous invasions, when he had far more mobile troops available in the East, it’s quite possible that Sabinianus was under express orders from the emperor not to risk his army, because as long as Constantius II and Julian did not mop up operations in Europe, there would be no reinforcements available for Sabinianus; and a defeat against the overwhelmingly superior Sasanian army could have disastrous consequences. But, judging from Ammianus’ text, Ursicinus was a more aggressive commander who did not agree with such a cautious approach; it’s even possible that this was the reason why Constantius II had demoted him and appointed Sabinianus as his superior. Let’s retake Ammianus’ account (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI, XVIII, 7.8-11):

    Meanwhile the kings passed by Nisibis as an unimportant halting place, and since fires were spreading because of the variety of dry fuel, to avoid a scarcity of fodder were marching through the grassy valleys at the foot of the mountains. And now they had come to a hamlet called Bebase, from which as far as the town of Constantina, which is a hundred miles distant, everything is parched by constant drought except for a little water to be found in wells. There they hesitated for a long time what to do, and finally were planning to cross, being confident of the hardiness of their men, when they learned from a faithful scout that the Euphrates was swollen by the melted snows and overflowing in wide pools, and hence could not be forded anywhere. Therefore, being unexpectedly disappointed in the hope that they had conceived, they turned to embrace whatever the chance of fortune should offer; and on holding a council, with reference to the sudden urgent difficulties of their present situation, Antoninus, on being bidden to say what he thought, began by advising that they should turn their march to the right, in order to make a long detour through regions abounding in all sorts of supplies, and still untouched by the Romans in the belief that the enemy would march straight ahead, and that they should go under his guidance to the two garrison camps of Barzalo and Claudias: for there the river was shallow and narrow near its source, and as yet increased by no tributaries, and hence was fordable and easy to cross. When this proposition had been heard and its author commended and bidden to lead them by the way that he knew, the whole army changed its intended line of march and followed its guide.

    This is a key passage, for in it Ammianus attempts to guess the Sasanian king’s intentions for this invasion. According to John Harrel, based on the intelligence supplied by Ammianus, Ursicinus would have concluded that Šābuhr II planned to attack Nisibis as in previous invasions. The fact that he shifted his command post from Nisibis to Amida supports this conclusion. During the three previous sieges of the city, Constantius II had left the tactical defense of the city to a trusted subordinate, and this had allowed his praesentalis army to harass the Sasanian lines of communication and supply, forcing the Sasanian king to disperse his forces to protect his siege lines from Roman raids. Harrel concludes that in this case, Ursicinus probably planned to follow Constantius II’s example, and planned to use Amida as his base of operations against Šābuhr II’s lines of communications. At a steady rate of advance of fifteen miles a day, the main Sasanian army would’ve required ten days to reach the Khabur River from the Tigris crossings (on top of the three days needed to cross it, as calculated by Ammianus). This would’ve left around two weeks for Ursicinus and Sabinianus to take the defensive measures described above. Given that the fields and the crops still not collected were dry enough to be consumed by fire, Harrel guesses that it was late May or early June when Šābuhr II invaded Roman Mesopotamia.

    Map-campaign-359.png

    Map of the 359 CE campaign, according to John Harrel (The Nisibis War: The Defense of the Roman East AD 337-363).

    Following Harrel’s analysis of the campaign, Šābuhr II would’ve advanced along the Roman road from Singara to the base of the mountains in the vicinity of the town of Bebase, a twelve-day march from the Tigris (I’m trusting Harrel here; I’ve been unable to locate this place in the maps of the Romans Empire I’ve consulted). Here, the army paused while its scouts reconnoitered the routes to the Euphrates. According to Harrel, Bebase was near a major road junction on the Khabur River, located 260 km east of the bridge crossing the Euphrates at Zeugma and about 50 km southwest of Nisibis. Harrel states how from that location Šābuhr II had three available options:
    • His first option was to turn east and attack Nisibis, which was his standard campaign plan during the 340s. Ursicinus’ actions in burning the nearby fields rendered this option difficult. In any event, this option would not have resulted in a decisive defeat of the Roman eastern field army. It had not resulted in luring it into taking the field in the past and, even if the siege was successful, the Roman fortresses of Singara, Amida, Bezabde, and Castra Maurorum still commanded the lines of communication back to Ērānšahr.
    • The Sasanian king’s second option was to take the bridge over the Euphrates at Zeugma and invade Syria. Despite the flooding, Ammianus indicates that the bridge was still up; however, the Roman field army of the East blocked this route. Ursicinus had not yet ordered this bridge demolished. To capture the bridge, the Sasanians would have had to contend with the small Roman force at Zeugma on the west bank and the relatively small field army of the East at Edessa, but as I said before, it could have quickly withdrawn to Zeugma had Šābuhr II marched west. Capturing the bridge by surprise was unlikely since the Romans were on the alert due to the Sasanian raiders rampaging over the countryside. Harrel concludes that fighting to cross a major river was not the type of field battle that Šābuhr II was seeking, to which I would add that invading Syria contributed nothing towards his main goal: to retake the regiones Transtigritanae, Mesopotamia and Armenia from the Romans.
    • And finally, according to Harrel, the Šahān Šāh’s third option was to march north along the Roman road to Amida into the province of Cappadocia. Ammianus records that Šābuhr II chose this course of action when the scouts reported the Euphrates was in flood and impassable and that Antoninus, the traitor, with his insider knowledge, apparently advised him that this option would allow the Sasanians to march through regions that had not been burned which would provide sufficient supplies for an extended period. Harrel guesses that Ursicinus must not have deduced Šābuhr II’s change of course or his scouts failed to report the Sasanian army’s reaction to the flooded river. Harrel points out that Ammianus does not report where Ursicinus’ maneuver force was located before it “mysteriously” appeared at Amida, and he thinks that it is too much of a coincidence that five legions just happened to be in the vicinity of Amida, with a battle-hardened comes (Aelianus), when the Sasanian army unexpectedly turned north. Harrel finds this especially odd given that Ursicinus initially believed that Nisibis was Šābuhr II’s target, and he proposes that these five legions and three cavalry units were most likely massed at Amida to serve as a field army to harass the Sasanian siege of Nisibis and not as a reinforcement to Amida’s garrison.
    According to Ammianus, Ursicinus deployed the two Equites Illyriciani units as a screen along the Nisibis road to provide early warning and to block Sasanian raiding parties from using the Nisibis-Amida road, but as we will see these two cavalry units failed disastrously in their mission (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI, XIX, 1.1-14):

    When this was known through trustworthy scouts, we planned to hasten to Samosata, in order to cross the river from there and break down the bridges at Zeugma and Capersana, and so (if fortune should aid us at all) repel the enemy’s attacks. But there befell a terrible disgrace, which deserves to be buried in utter silence. For about seven hundred horsemen, belonging to two squadrons who had recently been sent to the aid of Mesopotamia from Illyricum, a spiritless and cowardly lot, were keeping guard in those parts. And dreading a night attack, they withdrew to a distance from the public roads at evening, when all the paths ought to be better guarded. This was observed by the Persians, and about twenty thousand of them, under the command of Tamsapor and Nohodares, passed by the horsemen unobserved, while these were overcome with wine and sleep, and hid themselves with arms behind some high mounds near Amida.
    And presently, when we were on the point of going to Samosata (as has been said) and were on our way while it was still twilight, from a high point our eyes caught the gleam of shining arms, and an excited cry was raised that the enemy were upon us; then the usual signal for summoning to battle was given and we halted in close order, thinking it prudent neither to take flight when our pursuers were already in sight, nor yet (through fear of certain death) to engage with a foe far superior in cavalry and in numbers. Finally, after it became absolutely necessary to resort to arms, while we were hesitating as to what ought to be done, some of our men ran forward rashly and were killed. And as both sides pressed forward, Antoninus, who was ostentatiously leading the troops, was recognized by Ursicinus and rated with chiding language; and after being called traitor and criminal, Antoninus took off the tiara which he wore on his head as a token of high honor, sprang from his horse, and bending his body so that he almost touched the ground with his face, he saluted Ursicinus, calling him patron and lord, clasping his hands together behind his back, which among the Assyrians is a gesture of supplication. Then, “Pardon me,” said he, “most illustrious Count, since it is from necessity and not voluntarily that I have descended to this conduct, which I know to be infamous. It was unjust duns, as you know, that drove me mad, whose avarice not even your lofty station, which tried to protect my wretchedness, could check.” As he said these words he withdrew from sight, not turning about, but respectfully walking backwards until he disappeared, and presenting his breast.
    While all this took place in the course of half an hour, our soldiers in the rear, who occupied the higher part of the hill, cry out that another force, of heavy-armed cavalry, was to be seen behind the others, and that they were approaching with all possible speed. And, as is usual in times of trouble, we were in doubt whom we should, or could, resist, and pushed onward by the weight of the vast throng, we all scattered here and there, wherever each saw the nearest way of escape; and while everyone was trying to save himself from the great danger, we were mingled in scattered groups with the enemy’s skirmishers. And so, now scorning any desire for life and fighting manfully, we were driven to the banks of the Tigris, which were high and steep. From these some hurled themselves headlong, but entangled by their weapons stuck fast in the shoals of the river; others were dragged down in the eddying pools and swallowed up; some engaged the enemy and fought with varying success; others, terrified by the dense array of hostile ranks, sought to reach the nearest elevations of Mount Taurus. Among these the commander himself was recognised and surrounded by a horde of warriors, but he was saved by the speed of his horse and got away, in company with Aiadalthes, a tribune, and a single groom.
    I myself, having taken a direction apart from that of my comrades, was looking around to see what to do, when Verennianus, one of the guard, came up with an arrow in his thigh; and while at the earnest request of my colleague I was trying to pull it out, finding myself surrounded on all sides by the foremost Persians, I moved ahead at breathless speed and aimed for the city, which from the point where we were attacked lay high up and could be approached only by a single very narrow ascent; and this was made still narrower by mills which had been built on the cliffs for the purpose of making the paths. Here, mingled with the Persians, who were rushing to the higher ground with the same effort as ourselves, we remained motionless until sunrise of the next day, so crowded together that the bodies of the slain, held upright by the throng, could nowhere find room to fall, and that in front of me a soldier with his head cut in two, and split into equal halves by a powerful sword stroke, was so pressed on all sides that he stood erect like a stump. And although showers of weapons from all kinds of artillery flew from the battlements, nevertheless the nearness of the walls saved us from that danger, and when I at last entered the city by a postern gate I found it crowded, since a throng of both sexes had flocked to it from the neighboring countryside. For, as it chanced, it was at that very time that the annual fair was held in the suburbs, and there was a throng of country folk in addition to the foreign traders. Meanwhile there was a confusion of varied cries, some bewailing their lost kindred, others wounded to the death, many calling upon loved ones from whom they were separated and could not see because of the press.

    This is a very long a dense fragment, in which Ammianus narrates yet another occasion in which he narrowly escaped death or capture at the hands of the Sasanian army. Reading again between the lines, it doesn’t leave Ursicinus and the Roman cavalry in a very good light. When news reached Ursicinus that the Sasanian main army had bypassed Nisibis and turned north, he left Amida towards Samosata (to the west of Amida) to cross the Euphrates and secure that the bridges over this river were destroyed. Ammianus says nothing about it, but it’s possible that Ursicinus was going to leave Amida not only with his escort, but also with his small field army. To prevent surprises, Ursicinus had deployed the two units of Illyrian cavalrymen of his force to watch the road that led to the south, but these cavalrymen failed to keep guard at night, and they allowed a Sasanian cavalry force of 20,000 men commanded by Tamsapor and Nohodares (i.e., the cavalry vanguard of Šābuhr II’s army which was leading the invasion) to slip by unnoticed at night; and after this, the Sasanian cavalry force proceeded to hid in the high ground to the west of Amida. This is a monumental failure, as at least for me it’s hard to understand how they could’ve failed to detect a force of 20,000 cavalrymen (larger than Ursicinus’ whole army) passing near them, unless the lot of them were blind and deaf. The consequence is that when the following day Ursicinus left Amida towards Samosata, he was intercepted by this Sasanian force. At first, the Romans believed that they were facing only a small light cavalry force and were willing to offer battle, but when they realized they were facing a large army including the dreaded Sasanian savārān, the Roman force was forced to back towards the steep bank of the Tigris, where it collapsed into a disorderly rout. Ursicinus, accompanied by a tribune and a single groom, managed to escape westwards (as we will see) and cross the Euphrates, but Ammianus, with most of the remaining Roman forces, was forced to seek refuge within the walls of Amida; from within the city the garrison hurled a rain of projectiles against the pursuing Sasanian cavalry that allowed the Roman survivors to enter the city, together with a throng of civilians, as an annual fair was being held in the suburbs of the city. Ursicinus had been now separated from his small field force, which was now trapped within Amida, which was surrounded by a Sasanian force of 20,000 force and cut away from the Roman rearguard, while the main Sasanian army with Šābuhr II in command was fast approaching from the south.

    Amida-from-Tigris.jpg

    View of Amida from the banks of the Tigris. This would have been the view of the fleeing Romans as they retreated towards the city to seek refuge within its walls.

    To which degree this was bad luck for the Romans and good fortune for the Sasanians, I’m not sure. Ammianus writes assuredly that Šābuhr II’s initial intention (following Antoninus’ advice) was to head towards Syria, but as I’ve said before, I see no practical benefit for Šābuhr II in doing so, other than trying to lure the Roman field army of the East into a pitched battle. By now the Sasanian king was a seasoned veteran and it’s quite probable that he had decided to change his tactics from the unsuccessful sieges of Nisibis that he undertook in the 340s CE at such high cost. It could be possible that what motivated Šābuhr II to change abruptly the direction of advance of his army was Sabinianus’ caution and his strong strategic position at Edessa. But this brings to the fore if Amida was then chosen deliberately by Šābuhr II as his secondary prize, or as if we will see (according to Ammianus) the Sasanians besieged the city “by accident”. I will say in advance that I find Ammianus’ explanation quite implausible. In my opinion, the Sasanian king was probably aware that Ursicinus’ force was posted at Amida, and this was what motivated his change of direction to the north: the objective was to capture Amida and destroy Ursicinus’ army. Unlike with Edessa, if the Sasanian cavalry moved swiftly enough (as it did), there was the possibility of cutting Amida from the Roman rearguard, isolating the Roman force; and if we are to believe Ammianus’ account, the Sasanians barely managed to do so, by a single day margin.

    comitatuscavalry15.jpg

    Late Roman cavalry, from the British reenactment group “Comitatus”.

    But once they had the Roman force trapped within Amida, it would have been foolish to bypass it towards the north. What would have Šābuhr II achieved by doing this? Pillage Cappadocia? That would not bring him nearer to his strategic goal of reannexing Mesopotamia and Armenia to Ērānšahr; the only thing he could’ve have realistically achieved for would have been an invasion of Armenia, which would’ve been quite a senseless step, given that the Sasanians could’ve invaded Armenia whenever they wanted from Media and Atropatene in the east without leaving strong enemy forces behind their lines. Instead, by capturing Amida he would destroy around a third part of the total field forces available to the Romans in the East, and he would also capture one of the outer ring of fortresses that surrounded Nisibis, thus preparing the way for a final, definitive attack against this city without encumbrances for his supply lines. An added advantage was that Amida controlled the communications between Nisibis and Armenia (and Cappadocia), and so in a future siege of Nisibis, this would complicate the sending of Armenian reinforcements (or Roman forces from Cappadocia and Pontus) to the south.
     
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    8.3 THE SIEGE OF AMIDA. THE SASANIAN ARMY INVESTS THE CITY.
  • 8.3 THE SIEGE OF AMIDA. THE SASANIAN ARMY INVESTS THE CITY.


    Ammianus offers a description of Amida and its garrison in his account (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI, XVIII, 2.1-4):

    This city was once very small, but Constantius, when he was still a Caesar, in order that the neighbors might have a secure place of refuge, at the same time that he built another city called Antinopolis, surrounded Amida with strong walls and towers; and by establishing there an armory of mural artillery, he made it a terror to the enemy and wished it to be called after his own name. Now, on the south side it is washed by the winding course of the Tigris, which rises near-by; where it faces the blasts of Eurus it looks down on Mesopotamia’s plains; where it is exposed to the north wind it is close to the river Nymphaeus and lies under the shadow of the peaks of Taurus, which separate the peoples beyond the Tigris from Armenia; opposite the breath of Zephyrus it borders on Gumathena, a region rich alike in fertility and in tillage, in which is the village called Abarne, famed for its warm baths of healing waters. Moreover, in the very heart of Amida, at the foot of the citadel, a bountiful spring gushes forth, drinkable indeed, but sometimes malodorous from hot vapors. Of this town the regular garrison was formed by the Fifth Legion, Parthica, along with a force of no mean size of natives. But at that time six additional legions, having outstripped the advancing horde of Persians by rapid marches, were drawn up upon its very strong walls. These were the soldiers of Magnentius and Decentius, whom, after finishing the campaigns of the civil wars, the emperor had forced, as being untrustworthy and turbulent, to come to the Orient, where none but foreign wars are to be feared; also the soldiers of the Thirtieth, and the Tenth, also called Fortenses, and the Superventores and Praeventores with Aelianus, who was then a count; these troops, when still raw recruits, at the urging of the same Aelianus, then one of the guard, had made a sally from Singara (as I have said) and slain great numbers of the Persians while they were buried in sleep. There were also in the town the greater part of the comites sagittarii (household archers), that is to say, a squadron of horsemen so named, in which all the freeborn foreigners serve who are conspicuous above the rest for their prowess in arms and their bodily strength.

    This fragment gives us a good idea of the garrison, although the description of the city itself is quite brief. As I wrote in a previous chapter, when war broke out between Šābuhr II and Constantine I in the late 330s, Constantius II was still caesar and had been appointed by his father as commander of the field army of the East. The invading Sasanian army, commanded by prince Narsē (perhaps a brother of Šābuhr II) took Amida easily, but was later completely defeated by Constantius at Narasara; after this victory Constantius retook Amida and surrounded it with strong walls; the new defenses included also a complete array of state-of-the-art defensive artillery which as we will see the proved itself very effective against the besiegers in 359 CE.

    Amida-walls-02.jpg

    One of the gates of the walls of the old city of Diyarbakir (ancient Amida). In their present state, they date to the reign of Valens in the late third of the IV century CE, with some minor additions and reinforcements added during the Middle Ages.

    Amida was a city located in a strong defensive position; puzzlingly enough it was a natural location far stronger than that of Nisibis, which makes its fall in 359 CE after a brief but bloody siege quite surprising. The ancient city of Amida is today the old city of Diyarbakir, in southeastern Turkey. It lies on a plateau located immediately adjacent to a bend of the Tigris river, so that its southern and southwestern side limit with a relatively steep cliff that overlooks the river; the other sides are easily approachable from the neighboring flat terrain. The environs of Amida are a hilly terrain, as the city is located north of the Tur Abdin mountains, on the southern escarpments of the Armenian Plateau to the north. Today, the old city of Diyarbakir is remarkable because it preserves intact its Roman walls. These walls are made of local basaltic stone (a volcanic rock of considerable hardness), but they are not the walls built by Constantius II; they date to the reign of Valens, later in the IV century CE. From what I’ve been able to gather, archaeologists and historians just assume that they were built on top of the previous walls, which were destroyed by the Sasanian army after taking the city, but no serious archaeological study has been undertaken in this respect.

    Amida-walls-11.jpg

    The walls of Amida seen from the Tigris; the terrain is steep but not as steep as to render it impassable.

    We can thus assume with relative certainty that the walls that existed in 359 CE were also made of basaltic stone and had a similar strength and overall design as the ones that can be seen today. The city had freshwater springs within its walls, and the basaltic soil meant that it was impossible for the besiegers to resort to mining (one of the preferred tactics of Sasanian engineers). But the city had also its weak spots: it had no moat, which means that the besiegers could approach the walls with war machines, ramps and scales unhindered, the cliff that surrounded it to the south and southwest was not steep enough to prevent enemy soldiers from climbing it, and it was surrounded by rich agricultural land which offered plenty of supplies to the besiegers (apparently, Ursicinus had not though it possible that the Sasanians would attack the city; this is the only explanation for the otherwise unexplainable negligence in applying here the policy of scorched earth that he had applied elsewhere in the province).

    Amida-walls-06.jpg

    Aerial view of the ancient city of Amida; the area between the city walls and the bend of the river Tigris covered with orchards is part of the 700 ha of cultivated farmland known as “Hevsel Gardens”, and together with the walls of the old city of Diyarbakir became a World Heritage Site in 2015.

    It’s also clear that the Roman forces trapped inside were an ad hoc force caught unprepared for the siege, even if Ammianus tries to hide this fact by saying that the six additional legions had reached the city “by means of forced marches” before the “Persian horde” surrounded it (notice how he implies that Ursicinus deliberately sent them there to reinforce the garrison without actually saying so). Thanks to this passage of Ammianus, we know that Amida’s regular garrison was formed by Legio V Parthica (a limitanei unit), supported by unnamed “native” auxiliaries. To this regular garrison, Ursicinus had added with his (willing or unwilling) deployment the following units:
    • Magnentiaci: a mobile western legion, that had taken part in Magnentius’ revolt (hence its name), and had been transferred to the East for political reasons
    • Decimani: same as the previous unit.
    • Legio XXX: Ammianus does not give us its nickname, scholars believe it could be the ancient Legio XXX Ulpia Victrix; it was probably a mobile legion detached from Sabinianus’ army.
    • Legio X Fortenses: a mobile legion; from other sources we know that it existed already in Diocletian’s time and probably earlier, and that it was considered back in the days of the Tetrarchy as a crack elite unit (hence its nickname, from Latin fortis, meaning “strong”). It had also probably been detached from Sabinianus’ eastern field army.
    • Superventores and Praeventores: we’ve already met these units before. They were two elite “light” legions that were probably used to “police” the regiones Transtigritanae and that had already showed their skill in defensive operations during Šābuhr II’s failed first siege of Singara in the 340s. They were still under the command of the same officer, the comes Aelianus.
    • And finally, Ammianus adds that there were also inside the city “the greater part of the comites sagittarii”, which was an elite unit of horse archers belonging to the household troops of Constantius II.
    John Harrel estimates that there must’ve been between 1,300 and 5,300 soldiers and 16,000 civilians within Amida when the Sasanian cavalry cut the approaches to the city. Most of it were elite troops, so the Romans had apparently a good chance of holding the city against the Sasanian king.

    Meanwhile, the main Sasanian army was approaching Amida from the south, led by the Šahān Šāh himself, who showed political astuteness in his actions during this approach march (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI, XVIII, 3.1-4):

    While the storm of the first attack was thus busied with unlooked-for undertakings, the king with his own people and the nations that he was leading turned his march to the right from the place called Bebase, as Antoninus had recommended, through Horre and Meiacarire and Charcha, as if he would pass by Amida; but when he had come near two fortresses of the Romans, of which one is called Reman and the other Busan, he learned from the information of deserters that the wealth of many people had been brought there and was kept in what were regarded as lofty and safe fortifications; and it was added that there was to be found there with a costly outfit a beautiful woman with her little daughter, the wife of a certain Craugasius of Nisibis, a man distinguished among the officials of his town for family, reputation, and influence. Accordingly the king, with a haste due to his greed for seizing others’ property, attacked the fortresses with fiery confidence, whereupon the defenders, overcome with sudden panic and dazzled by the variety of arms, surrendered themselves and all those who had taken refuge with the garrison; and when ordered to depart, they at once handed over the keys of the gates. When entrance was given, whatever was stored there was brought out, and the women, paralyzed with fear, were dragged forth with the children clinging to their mothers and experiencing grievous woes at the beginning of their tender years. And when the king by inquiring whose wife the lady was had found that her husband was Craugasius, he allowed her, fearing as she did that violence would be offered her, to approach nearer without apprehension; and when she had been reassured and covered as far as her very lips with a black veil, he courteously encouraged her with sure hope of regaining her husband and of keeping her honor unsullied. For hearing that her husband ardently loved her, he thought that at this price he might purchase the betrayal of Nisibis. Yet finding that there were others also who were maidens and consecrated to divine service according to the Christian custom, he ordered that they be kept uninjured and allowed to practice their religion in their wonted manner without any opposition; to be sure he made a pretense of mildness for the time, to the end that all whom he had heretofore terrified by his harshness and cruelty might lay aside their fear and come to him of their own volition, when they learned from recent instances that he now tempered the greatness of his fortune with kindliness and gracious deportment.

    In other words, knowing that he had (with good reason) a terrifying reputation among the civilian population of the province, Šābuhr II led a “PR” campaign to improve his image amongst it. Notice how here it’s revealed that Ammianus was not a Christian, and that Šābuhr II could be perfectly respectful towards Christians when it suited him (in other words, he did not have a problem with Christianity itself, but with it being a “Roman cult” and its followers being a potential Roman fifth column). His capture of the wife of Craugasius of Nisibis must also be understood as the securing of a hostage which could help him in a future attack against Nisibis, as Craugasius was evidently one of the most eminent citizens of this city. Finally, the Šahān Šāh reached Amida with his main army (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI, XIX, 1.1-6):

    The king, rejoicing in the wretched imprisonment of our men that had come to pass, and anticipating like successes, set forth from there, and slowly advancing, came to Amida on the third day. And when the first gleam of dawn appeared, everything so far as the eye could reach shone with glittering arms, and mail-clad cavalry filled hill and dale. The king himself, mounted upon a charger and overtopping the others, rode before the whole army, wearing in place of a diadem a golden image of a ram’s head set with precious stones, distinguished too by a great retinue of men of the highest rank and of various nations. But it was clear that he would merely try the effect of a conference on the defenders of the walls, since by the advice of Antoninus he was in haste to go elsewhere. However, the power of heaven, in order to compress the miseries of the whole Roman empire within the confines of a single region, had driven the king to an enormous degree of self-confidence, and to the belief that all the besieged would be paralyzed with fear at the mere sight of him, and would resort to suppliant prayers. So he rode up to the gates attended by his royal escort, and while with too great assurance he came so near that even his features could clearly be recognized, because of his conspicuous adornment he became the target of arrows and other missiles, and would have fallen, had not the dust hidden him from the sight of his assailants, so that after a part of his garment was torn by the stroke of a lance he escaped, to cause the death of thousands at a later time. In consequence of this attack he raged as if against sacrilegious violators of a temple, and declaring that the lord of so many kings and nations had been outraged, he pushed on with great effort every preparation for destroying the city; but when his most distinguished generals begged that he would not under stress of anger abandon his glorious enterprises, he was appeased by their soothing plea and decided that on the following day the defenders should again be warned to surrender.

    Okay, this is an important passage, and one in which I will have to stop the narrative of the siege and launch into a little excursus that will bring us back to the eastern reaches of Ērānšahr. According to Ammianus (who, let’s remember it again, was a direct eyewitness) Šābuhr II himself rode to the walls in his regalia to convince the garrison to surrender, because he was a vain tyrant blinded by his own pride, and had to retreat under a rain of missiles thrown by the defenders; this was followed according to Ammianus by one of Šābuhr II’s rages in which he wanted to attack and destroy the city immediately and had to be dissuaded by his generals. This of course, is probably nothing else but a topos of Graeco-Roman culture, which saw eastern kings as bloody despots with no self-control (just remember the report of the third siege of Nisibis by Julian some chapters earlier); Ammianus was an eyewitness but I doubt that he got to see and hear as far as Šābuhr II’s tent in his encampment. The interesting thing here is that the Sasanian king wanted to avoid yet another bloody siege, and so he tried to negotiate a peaceful surrender, to which the Romans refused, and with good reason: most of the sieges against Roman fortresses led by Šābuhr II had been bloody defeats for him. There was also an added reason for Šābuhr II’s attempt to negotiate: if you remember an earlier chapter, Harrel estimated that a large field army at the time could have carried rations for 90 days maximum (for men and animals) in its baggage train. Between the march from the Tigris to Bebase (15 days, in Harrel’s estimate) and from Bebase to Amida (a similar distance, so probably another 15 days) a month had already passed, which left him with only 60 days for taking the city. Considering that he needed to open trenches, assemble siege machines and probably start other major siege works that required major engineering labor, that left him with very little time. So, attempting to negotiate a bloodless surrender was worth the risk.

    Amida-tigris-02.jpg

    View of the Tigris Valley and the Hevsel Gardens from the walls of Amida. As you can see, the besieging army could hope to get plenty of supplies from this rich farmland.

    But apart from this, there is something in this passage that has called the attention of modern scholars; not of Classicists, but those versed in the story of Central Asia:

    The king himself, mounted upon a charger and overtopping the others, rode before the whole army, wearing in place of a diadem a golden image of a ram’s head set with precious stones, distinguished too by a great retinue of men of the highest rank and of various nations.

    Which has been linked with another passage set later, after the fall of the city (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI, XIX, 2-11):

    (…) the Persians called Sapor “saansaan” and “pirosen,” which being interpreted is “king of kings” and “victor in wars”.

    The second fragment is a bit surprising in that Ammianus translates correctly two Middle Persian terms: saansaan of course means “king of kings (MP Šahān Šāh) and he actually over-translates pirosen (MP Pērōz) which means just “victorious” (exactly like the Latin “Victor”) not “victor in wars”. How did Ammianus manage to translate Middle Persian into Latin? Knowledge of Old or Middle Persian is extremely rare in Graeco-Roman authors, so it’s in itself a remarkable passage.

    The real issue though is another. What irked scholars is the mention of the Sasanian king’s headgear: “a golden image of a ram’s head”. Headgear is extremely important in Sasanian iconography, and possibly it was also the case in Sasanian culture and the representation of the kings and nobles. In almost all of the existing royal images that can be attributed to Šābuhr II with complete certainty, he’s never wearing such a headgear, but a crenellated crown with a cloth korymbos on top of it (which he probably copied from his ancestor Šābuhr I). The diadem with a ram’s head is completely absent from his depiction in coins and reliefs.

    Bahram-2-Kushanshah-01.jpg

    Silver dish showing the image of an unknown Sasanian king wearing a crown/headgear with ram’s horns, exactly as the one described by Ammianus. Scholars are unsure about who this king could be; based on the similarity with the coins issued in name of Bahrām Kušān Šāh it’s been speculated that maybe it could be this king.

    But there are images of other kings wearing a crown/helmet exactly like the one described by Ammianus: the last two attested Kušān Šāhs in the numismatic record, Pērōz 2 and Bahrām. They are depicted consistently in coins (repeatedly, in several issues) and even in a silver vessel, wearing a headgear that includes a ram’s head or at least ram’s horns. This has caused a huge amount of speculation on the part of scholars, especially numismatists, across the last decades.

    If you remember my previous chapter about the appearance of the Huns in Central Asia, written evidence for the timeframe of the Hunnic invasions in this area is completely absent, so scholars have been forced to rely only on numismatics and archaeology, and every little bit of written evidence has been over-analyzed time and again. This passage of Ammianus is one of such bits of evidence. Numismatist Joe Cribb and historian Khodadad Rezakhani have launched the hypothesis that perhaps the royal figure riding in front of the walls of Amida was not Šābuhr II but the Kušān Šāh. The main problem with this hypothesis is immediately evident: Ammianus says nothing about the Kušān Šāh being present at the siege, especially when he described the advance of the Sasanian army along the Tigris.

    But there could be some numismatic clues reinforcing such a hypothesis. Rezakhani in fact proposed that what the victorious besieging soldiers were shouting after the fall of Amida were not the royal titles of Šābuhr II, but the full name and title of the Kušān Šāh, and that this king would’ve been the king of the eastern peoples present in the siege of Amida as Šābuhr II’s allies: the Chionites, Gelani and Segestani (which means that Grumbates would’ve been a vassal of this king). Although as Rezakhani admits, there are further problems with this hypothesis: according to what seems to be the definitive (at least for now) dating of the Kušān Šāhs by numismatists Jongeward and Cribb, the reign of Pērōz 2 Kušān Šāh would have ended in 330 CE, so that makes it impossible for him to have been present at Amida.

    Peroz-II-Kushanshah.jpg

    Copper coin of Pērōz 2 Kušān Šāh. It follows all the style traits of Sasanian coins (copper coinage always imitated the issues in silver and gold, but never the other way around). The king is shown fully bearded and wearing a crown (than in this case of this king never varied during the course of his reign) and a fire altar in the reverse, with legends in Pahlavi script on both sides.

    The numismatic evidence in this respect is suggestive, but quite problematic (and totally outside my very limited field of knowledge), I will try to summarize it here anyway.

    Traditionally, the Hunnic invasions in Central Asia were understood by scholars as a series of invasions, in which different Hunnic waves came one after another: Chionites, Kidarites and finally Hephthalites. The first serious problem with this view came when an important hoard of V century CE coins was discovered at the ruins of the Tepe Maranjan Buddhist monastery in the Kabul Basin in Afghanistan in the 1930s, and a detailed analysis of the coins led scholars to conclude that most of these coins belonged to a hitherto unknown Hunnic people/issuing authority who called themselves (clearly and without any reasonable doubt) as Alkhon Huns (later corrected to Alkhan Huns). This led some scholars to start doubting the traditional framework, until Étienne de la Vaissière published in the 2000s an article that seems to have settled the issue of the Hunnic migrations in Central Asia (at last for the time being): there was a single episode of mass migration in between 350 and 370 CE, and the different names that appear in the sources or in the coinage reflect either different tribes or ruling dynasties of a single conglomerate of peoples that called themselves Huns (Xwn, Xyōn, etc., see the previous chapter).

    With this new work hypothesis, scholars revisited the remaining material and literary evidence, and tried to reconstruct the sequence of events, with relative (or rather quite modest) success. Interpretation of the numismatic evidence is particularly tricky, and the different numismatists don’t agree much neither in timelines nor even in the general string of events. The timeline of the fall of the Sasanian vassal kingdom of Kušān Šāhr is particularly problematic. I will try to follow here the conclusions of British numismatist Joe Cribb, but beware that they’re not accepted by all the scholars (historians Étienne de la Vaissière and Frantz Grenet and numismatist Klaus Vondrovec have opposed many of them), but for the sake of keeping this thread intelligible given my limited abilities to deal with such an arcane subject, I will follow Cribb here unless I expressly write the opposite.

    The fall of Kušān Šāhr is problematic for numismatists because the Hunnic newcomers changed initially very little from the coinage issued by the Kušān Šāhs, to the point that it took them probably decades to start issuing coins stating clearly the change of regime. When the Sasanians conquered Ṭoḵārestān and Gandhāra from the Kušān Empire, they also kept issuing gold dinars very similar to those that had been issued by the Kušān kings, but both the legends in the coins and the portrait of the king can be easily perceived (not only by numismatists) as having changed from the previous era; there had been a change in ruling dynasty. But the same did not happen in the IV century CE.

    If we accept 330 CE as the year in which finished the reign of Pērōz 2 Kušān Šāh, this year also seems to mark an important change in the political and administrative structures in the eastern part of the Sasanian empire. Numismatists have found in Gandhāra examples of two series of copper coins issued there by what seem to be local satraps in the name of Šābuhr II Šahān Šāh dated to the 340s or 350s CE at the latest. This is interpreted by scholars as follows: due to unknown reasons, after the death of Pērōz 2 Kušān Šāh, Šābuhr II stripped his successor Bahrām from all the territories south of the Hindu Kush, which were then turned into regular Sasanian provinces ruled from the imperial court at Ctesiphon. The reasons for this sudden action are unknown, but some educated guesses can be made:
    • A rebellion from the Kušān Šāhs that Šābuhr II needed to punish.
    • A perceived incapacity of weakness by the Kušān Šāhs to defend their territories, which led to Šābuhr II assuming control of these territories in order to guarantee their defense. It’s unknown which sort of danger it might’ve been. Some scholars speculate that it could have been the beginnings of the Hunnic expansion, but there’s a chronological problem here, for Šābuhr II did not abandon his war against Rome in the west until 350 CE. To which I would add a logical one: if the Kušān Šāhs were failing against the Huns, the logical thing would have been for Šābuhr II to take control over their territories north of the Hindu Kush (i.e. Ṭoḵārestān), not south of them.
    So, in my opinion that means that the reason was either a punishment carried on by Šābuhr II or if it was done for defensive reasons, the danger must’ve come from the south (i.e. from India) not from the north. At this time, Chandragupta I and Samudragupta were busy creating and expanding the Gupta Empire in northern India, but we know nothing against the relationships between the Gupta and Sasanian empires.

    In turn, this leads to the interesting possibility that the troubles that Šābuhr II faced in the east after 350 CE could have involved a rebellion by Bahram Kušān Šāh against Šābuhr II, perhaps in alliance with the expanding northern tribes that had by then probably just reached Sogdiana. As we will see in a moment, numismatics provides strong hints at a relationship between this last Kušān Šāh and the Huns.

    The first Hunnic king/ruler who issued coins in his name, still influenced by Sasanian coins but making a clear break in key aspects in the iconography and in the legend, is a certain Kidara, whose existence is also confirmed by Chinese sources (the Weishu). From the name of this first Hunnic ruler who minted coinage, historians have called the political entity that replaced Kušān Šāhr in Ṭoḵārestān and Gandhāra as Kidarites (known also as Kidarite Huns, etc.). Cribb dated the first coins issued in the name of Kidara to before 375 CE in any case, and perhaps as early as 369 CE. But the story doesn’t end here, because as you can see both dates fall clearly after the siege of Amida. As was customary in Central Asian nomadic peoples (and also among the Sasanian and Arsacid royal houses and grandees), Kidara marked his coins and seals with a tamgha, and so did his successors. This is believed to be by scholars the sign or emblem of either the clan or Kidara or his tribe (tamghas were used in both capacities). But many of the coins issued in the name of Bahrām Kušān Šāh also bear the Kidarite tamgha, which has puzzled scholars to no end to this day. The intermingling of symbols and titles doesn’t end here though, because in his coinage Kidara identified himself as “Great Kušān King” and said nothing about his Hunnic ancestry, evidently trying to portray himself as the legitimate successor of the Kušān Šāhs and the Great Kušāns before them.

    The chronological sequence of late Kushano-Sasanian and early Kidarite coinage in Ṭoḵārestān and Gandhāra, as reconstructed by numismatist Joe Cribb, is as follows:
    • Coins issued in the name of Pērōz 2: in all of them the king is shown wearing a crown with bull horns. There are no distinctive sub-issues; his coinage is extremely stable throughout his reign and seems to have been under strict central control.
    • Coins issued in the name of Bahrām: here the picture changes drastically. In the first issues, the king is portrayed wearing a flat crown adorned with what seem either pearls in one case and lotus flowers in the other, without no tamgha or any other mark. But some time later, he starts to be depicted wearing a different crown with both pearls and lotus flowers, and a tamgha appears. After this phase, coins start to be issued in the name of Bahrām but wearing a headgear with ram’s horns, also showing a tamgha. In a fourth phase, the portrait of the ruler appears wearing a crown adorned with lotus flowers, which then changes into a crown adorned with double lotuses in a fifth stage, and in the sixth and final stage, the portrait of the ruler is depicted wearing a flat crown adorned with double lotuses and ribbons. All the coins issued from stages two to six show the Kidarite tamgha.
    Bahram-Kushansha-1.png

    Gold scyphate dinar issued in the name of Bahrām Kušān Šāh. It follows the iconography that the Kushano-Sasanian kings adopted from their defeated Kušān predecessors: the king standing in full armor in the obverse wearing a spear, and a religious figure in the reverse (usually the main Bactrian deity Oeso, sometimes identified with the Indian god Shiva; accompanied by the bull Nandi, a clear loan from Hinduist tradition). The king appears fully bearded and wears a crown adorned with two rows of florets. This is one of the rare coins of its time in which the mint is quoted in the coin: it was minted in Balkh. (According to Joe Cribb and A. Oddy in “The Kidarites, the Numismatic evidence”).

    Bahram-Kushansha-Kidarite-5.png

    Gold scyphate dinar issued in the name of Bahrām Kušān Šāh. At first sight, everything seems exactly as in the previous coin, except for two details. The crown of the king has changed and now he’s wearing one adorned with pearls and lotus petals, and more importantly: on the obverse, to the right of the standing king, you can see the Kidarite tamgha. Again, the mint is named in the coin: Balkh (According to Joe Cribb and A. Oddy in “The Kidarites, the Numismatic evidence”).

    Kidarite-Tamgha.png

    The Kidarite tamgha in detail, that would be displayed in all the coins of the Kidarite rulers that ruled in Ṭoḵārestān, Sogdiana and Gandhāra after Bahrām Kušān Šāh.

    Bahram-Kushansha-Kidarite-Rams-Horns-7.png

    Gold scyphate dinar issued in the name of Bahrām Kušān Šāh. The crown of the king has changed and now he’s wearing one with ram’s horns (as in the silver plate shown above and like in Ammianus’ text). Once more, on the obverse, to the right of the standing king, you can see the Kidarite tamgha. The mint is not quoted in the coin (According to Joe Cribb and A. Oddy in “The Kidarites, the Numismatic evidence”).

    Bahram-Kushansha-Kidarite-Ribbons-12.png

    Gold scyphate dinar issued in the name of Bahrām Kušān Šāh. This is the final stage in the evolution of Bahrām’s “Kidarite” coinage. The crown of the king has changed and now he’s wearing one with lotus petals and raised ribbons. Once more, on the obverse, to the right of the standing king, you can see the Kidarite tamgha. The mint is not quoted in the coin (According to Joe Cribb and A. Oddy in “The Kidarites, the Numismatic evidence”).
    • After these last issues in the name of Bahrām, the coinage minted locally in Ṭoḵārestān and Gandhāra is issued in the name of Kidara, who usually proclaims himself (sometimes in Middle Persian using Pahlavi script, other times in Bactrian using Bactrian script) as “Kidara, Great Kušān King”. The crown he wears in his first issues is exactly the same that appears in the last issues of Bahrām.
    Kidara-13.png

    Gold scyphate dinar issued in the name of Kidara. This is the earliest gold coin issued in the name of Kidara; as you can see it copies faithfully the iconography of the latest issues of Bahrām Kušān Šāh. The crown he wears is exactly the same as in the last coins of Bahrām Kušān Šāh, and the Bactrian legend in the coin proclaims him as “Kidara, Great Kušān King” (According to Joe Cribb and A. Oddy in “The Kidarites, the Numismatic evidence”).

    Traditionally the appearance of the first coins issued in the name of Kidara has been considered as the chronological border between Kushano-Sasanian rule and the rule of the Kidarite Huns. But Cribb and some other scholars like Khodadad Rezakhani have recently put this view into question, because as we have seen the Kidarite tamgha appear in the coins issued in the name of Bahrām for quite some time before the appearance of the first coins in Kidara’s name. And Cribb has refined things even more, because he has identified in the coinage several names of rulers who could be Kidarite predecessors of Kidara (in view of this, the name “Kidarite” for these subgroup of Huns is perhaps a bit confusing) in coins issued before his first “official” series; that is, during the rule of Bahrām. These names appear in several separate types of coins found in a land area that stretches between the Āmu Daryā and the Indus.

    As we saw in a previous chapter, at this time, the last two Kušān kings, Shaka and Kipunadha, were ruling the remaining Kušān territory which was probably located in the Punjab and perhaps Kashmir. Cribb identified that, at some point during the reign of these two kings, another authority who also used the Kidarite tamgha began minting gold coins very similar to the issues of the last two Kušān kings. In turn, Cribb also noticed that gold coins very similar to these “Kidarite” issues were minted in northwestern India in the name of “Samudra” and bearing inscriptions in Sanskrit using Brāhmī script. This “Samudra” is probably no other than the great Gupta emperor Samudragupta, whose death is securely dated to 375 CE; this provides a very secure terminus ante quem for the dating of these Kušān-imitation Kidarite coins. This means that before 375 CE (while Šābuhr II was still alive, as he died in 379 CE) the Kidarites had crossed the Hindu Kush and had conquered Gandhāra and probably also the last remaining territories of the last Kušān kings in western Punjab and Kashmir (at least those who were not annexed by Samudragupta into his empire). What’s even more interesting for us from a chronological point of view though is that there’s the possibility that the Kidarites had already reached India during the reign of Shaka, Kipunadha’s predecessor, as some of these Kidarite coins imitate Shaka’s coinage. There’s a great deal of uncertainty about the dates of his reign, but most sources place his death either in 340 CE, 350 CE or 360 CE. That pushes the presence of the Kidarites in India back to the 350s CE, and if they’d reached the south of the Hindu Kush by then, that means that previously they had managed to assert their control over Ṭoḵārestān at the expense of the Kušān Šāhs and over Gandhāra at the expense of Šābuhr II himself. The names of the (alleged) Kidarite rulers named in the legends of these Kidarite-Indian coins are (in no chronological order):
    • Kirada (careful, not to be confused with Kidara).
    • Hanaka.
    • Yasada.
    • Pērōz (the exact name in the coins is Peroysa).
    The chronological placement of these rulers (they could very well have been contemporaries and have ruled each over one or other faction of the Kidarite Huns that crossed the Hindu Kush) is unclear. Eventually, all these coins were succeeded, as in Ṭoḵārestān north of the Hindu Kush, by coins issued in the name of Kidara. As with the coins of the two last Kušān kings, the legends in these coins show a mix of degenerated, barely legible Bactrian, and Sanskrit or Prakrit using Brāhmī script. Hanaka calls himself Shaha (king), and Kirada, Yasada and Peroysa identify themselves with Gandhāra (Gadahara in the legends). Kidara, as in his “northern” coinage, calls himself “Kušān” in his coins, in several forms (the Kušān, the Kušān King, the Great Kušān King, etc.).

    Hanaka-26.png

    Kušān-style gold coin issued in northwestern India. The legend in Brāhmī reads “Hanaka Shahi” (King Hanaka) (According to Joe Cribb and A. Oddy in “The Kidarites, the Numismatic evidence”).

    Yasada-Gadahara-27.png

    Kušān-style gold coin issued in northwestern India. The legend in Brāhmī reads “Yasada Gadahara” (Yasada Gandhāra) (According to Joe Cribb and A. Oddy in “The Kidarites, the Numismatic evidence”).

    Kirada-Gadahara-28.png

    Kušān-style gold coin issued in northwestern India. The legend in Brāhmī reads “Kirada Gadahara” (Kirada Gandhāra) (According to Joe Cribb and A. Oddy in “The Kidarites, the Numismatic evidence”).

    Peroysa-Gadahara-36.png

    Kušān-style gold coin issued in northwestern India. The legend in Brāhmī reads “Peroysa Gadahara” (Pērōz Gandhāra) (According to Joe Cribb and A. Oddy in “The Kidarites, the Numismatic evidence”).

    Kidara-Kushana-39.png

    This is the final step in the evolution of these Kušān-imitation gold coins issued by Kidarite rulers. This gold coin was issued in northwestern India. The legend in Brāhmī reads “Kidara Kušāna” (Kidara the Kušān) (According to Joe Cribb and A. Oddy in “The Kidarites, the Numismatic evidence”).

    The other set of coins of interest to us in Cribb’s detailed analysis are the Sasanian-style silver coins issued in Ṭoḵārestān and Gandhāra bearing the Kidarite tamgha while being still ostensibly issued under the authority of Bahrām. These coins followed closely the pattern of the Sasanian silver drahm, and (the ones that were being issued at the time in the Sasanian empire) it was rare for coins to display the name or sign of the mint that issued name, which has been the source of endless frustration for scholars. Based on his study of the dies, specific gravity, iconography and stylistic aspects of the coins, Cribb concluded that they were issued at five different mints, which he named as A, B, C, D and E. He did not try to identify them with known geographical localities, but we can be quite sure that one of these mints must’ve been Balkh, which was probably the capital of Kušān Šāhr and the largest city in Ṭoḵārestān.

    At each mint, the earliest ruler represented on the coins seems to be the same person. At mints B, C and E he is identified by inscriptions as Pērōz (spelt Peroysa and Pilaca in Brāhmī, Pirozo in Bactrian and Pyrwcy in Pahlavi). He is shown with portraits wearing two different crowns, ram horns at mints B and C and a flat crown at mint E. The flat crown at mint E has the same shape as the Sasanian crown worn by the Kushano-Sasanian kings Pērōz 1, Pērōz 2 (with added bull’s horns) and Bahrām, and the Sasanian kings Narsē (first crown) and Šābuhr III. From these portraits, Cribb infers that the portrait at mint A wearing a ram horns crown accompanied by the Brāhmī letter pe is also the same Pērōz, even though the Pahlavi inscription names a king called “Bahrām, Kušān king”. The coins of the other mints do not name Pērōz, but the figure of the ruler portrayed in them is extremely similar to the ones where he is named as Pērōz. In every mint the Pērōz issues are followed by coins with the name Kidara or with associated crowns.

    Peroz-Rams-Horns-41.png

    Silver drahm presumably portraying Pērōz. The coin follows Sasanian iconography, with the ruler being fully bearded and shown with his bust and face in profile and bearing a crown with ram’s horns, and a fire altar with two attendants on the reverse. The Pahlavi inscription on the obverse reads “Kay Bahrām K… (ušān Šāh?)”. Issued by mint “A” (According to Joe Cribb and A. Oddy in “The Kidarites, the Numismatic evidence”).

    Peroz-Rams-Horns-43.png

    Silver drahm portraying Pērōz. The coin follows Sasanian iconography, with the ruler being fully bearded and shown with his bust and face in profile and bearing a crown with ram’s horns and ribbons, and a fire altar with two attendants on the reverse. The Pahlavi inscription on the obverse reads “Pērōz Šāh”. Issued by mint “B” (According to Joe Cribb and A. Oddy in “The Kidarites, the Numismatic evidence”).

    Peroz-Rams-Horns-47.png

    Silver drahm portraying Pērōz. The coin begins to break with standard Sasanian iconography; the ruler is still fully bearded but is shown in a frontal three quarters pose and bearing a crown with ram’s horns and ribbons. The fire altar with two attendants on the reverse remains the same. The Brāhmī inscription on the obverse reads “Peroysa Sha”. Issued by mint “C” (According to Joe Cribb and A. Oddy in “The Kidarites, the Numismatic evidence”).

    Kidara-Silver-49.png

    Silver drahm portraying Kidara. It follows the trend of the previous coin, with the ruler being depicted in a frontal three quarters pose; bearing a crown with triple florets and ribbons. For the first time, the king is portrayed beardless, as it was the custom among the Huns (they were either clean-shaven or wore a moustache, but not full beards). The legend in Brāhmī on the obverse reads “Kidara Kushana Sha” (Kušān King Kidara). Issued by mint “C”, after the issues of Pērōz shown above (According to Joe Cribb and A. Oddy in “The Kidarites, the Numismatic evidence”).

    Finally, there’s also a silver coinage found in Gandhāra and adjacent regions in northwestern India and associated with the Kidarites. This silver coinage, based on the Sasanian silver drahm and produced by at least four mints, begins with issues in the name of a ruler called Pērōz, who wears a ram horns crown. The crown has a crenellation at the front and a poppy-like crown ball above. The crenellation resembles the one used on the crown of the Sasanian Šahān Šāh Šābuhr II.

    And now, time for the conclusions and to end this long detour. What Joe Cribb and Khodadad Rezakhani point out (and they seem to have quite solid reasons for it, in my opinion) is that it’s a bit too much of a coincidence that a king bearing a “ram’s head crown” and which is called “Pērōz” by his troops was present at the siege of Amida as reported by Ammianus while at the same time there was a leader associated with the Kidarites in Ṭoḵārestān and Gandhāra who is depicted in coins on both sides of the Hindu Kush bearing such a crown/helmet/headgear and who is also called “Pērōz” in the legends present in the coins in several languages. Some scholars don’t hesitate in calling this ruler as “Pērōz 3” and considering him as the last of the Kušān Šāhs, but this seems to be quite a minority position.

    In the last two decades, a view had gained currency among scholars that the last Kušān Šāh Bahrām was probably for most of his reign little else than a puppet in the hands of the newly arrived Kidarite Huns. There’s also the possibility (hinted at by a minority of scholars) that the Huns were called as mercenaries or allies by Bahrām Kušān Šāh (probably in a rebellion against Šābuhr II) and he ended up as little more than a figurehead as these newcomers became more and more powerful and stripped him of any real authority. This would explain Ammianus’ reference that in 350 CE Šābuhr II had to leave for the eastern parts of his empire and that he remained there for nine years, fighting against the “Chionites and Euseni/Cuseni”. If the chronological and numismatic sequence proposed by Cribb is correct, it implies that in 359 CE Šābuhr II had not defeated the rebellion/invasion, but that he had just managed to reach an agreement with the puppet king Bahrām and his Hunnic masters.

    Cribb is quite sure that Bahrām Kušān Šāh of the early Kidarite gold coinage from Ṭoḵārestān and the Pērōz named in the silver coinage of Ṭoḵārestān and Gandhāra were different persons. He doesn’t explain who would this Pērōz had been: a Hunnic leader (with a Middle Persian name?) or a Kushano-Sasanian nobleman that had decided to join the Kidarites, as they seemed to be on the rise. The problem though is that in Middle Persian Pērōz can be both an adjective and a man’s name. It could just be an adjective functioning as a title of Bahram, or it could be indeed a person called Pērōz; precisely it’s in Kušān Šāhr where the usage of Pērōz as a masculine name is first attested, and later this onomastic innovation was adopted in Iran proper (almost a century later, judging by the written testimonies).

    So, if we follow Cribb and Rezakhani’s hypothesis, it’s possible that one of the kings/rulers present at Amida was this Pērōz of uncertain Sasanian/Kidarite allegiances, and that perhaps it was him the one who commanded the whole “eastern” contingent, with Grumbates being de facto his subordinate/vassal. The problem with this hypothesis, however suggestive, is obvious: Ammianus says nothing of the sort, and he was a direct eyewitness. But in turn we should perhaps ask ourselves about Ammianus’ reliability when dealing with the political structure of the Sasanian empire. Once more, let’s keep in mind that he was just a soldier; of an elite corps, but a soldier, nonetheless. He was not a diplomat, ambassador, minister or nothing of the sort, and so his understanding of such complex political realities and his worldview had to be quite limited in scope.

    Following this trend of speculation, we could also address the issue of the Segestani contingent. All scholars consider that Ammianus refers here to the troops of the sub-kingdom of Sakastān/Sagestān. But here we find another incongruence: as we’ve seen in a previous chapter, at the time Sagestān was ruled by Šābuhr II’s brother, Šābuhr Sakān Šāh, and it’s possible that his kingdom also included other eastern territories, like it had been the case when Narsē ruled them during the reigns of Šābuhr I, Bahrām I and Bahrām II (Makrān, Pāradān, Turān and Hind). This idea is perhaps supported that according to Ammianus’ account the Segestani contingent included the elephant corps, as could be expected if the army had been partly levied in India. But the problem with this identification can also be found in Ammianus’ account: where is Šābuhr Sakān Šāh? In a campaign of such importance, he should have been leading his army, and be given a position of importance and responsibility as Šābuhr II’s brother and a member of the House of Sāsān (which could not be said for any of the other rulers and kings present in the campaign). In fact, Rezakhani hints at the possibility that the “Segestani” contingent wasn’t Segestani at all, and that it was a force levied in Ṭoḵārestān, Gandhāra and perhaps other Indian territories that had already been overrun by the Kidarites (which would also explain the presence of the elephant corps).

    Although as you can see there’s a lot of unproved hypothesis and educated guesses in Cribb and Rezakhani’s theories, I think that there’s something in Ammianus’ report of the siege that could be explained by it: Šābuhr II employed all these “eastern” forces (Segestanis included) as cannon fodder against Amida, commanding them to launch frontal assaults against the walls armed only with ladders, without any sort of siege equipment. In the meantime, he kept his “Persians” in reserve, and possibly he only deployed them once the Sasanian war machines had been assembled and his engineers had built a huge siege ramp against the city. It’s almost as if he wanted these forces to suffer losses for the sake of it (he knew very well from experience how dangerous it was to assault a Roman fortress). I would not exclude some sort of Machiavellian plotting on Šābuhr II’s part in this campaign; it’s also worth noting that in the campaign of the following year Ammianus says nothing about eastern troops being present in the Sasanian army, which could perhaps be a consequence of the Kidarites’ discontent because of their high losses and Šābuhr II’s command of the campaign.

    Well, after this eastern detour (long and perhaps boring, but necessary in my opinion), we return now to Amida, and to Ammianus’ account (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI, XIX, 1.7-10; 2.1):

    And so, at the first dawn of day, Grumbates, king of the Chionitae, wishing to render courageous service to his lord, boldly advanced to the walls with a band of active attendants; but a skillful observer caught sight of him as soon as he chanced to come within range of his weapon, and discharging a ballista, pierced both cuirass and breast of Grumbates’ son, a youth just come to manhood, who was riding at his father’s side and was conspicuous among his companions for his height and his handsome person. Upon his fall all his countrymen scattered in flight, but presently returned in well-founded fear that his body might be carried off, and with harsh outcries roused numerous tribes to arms; and on their onset weapons flew from both sides like hail and a fierce fight ensued. After a murderous contest, protracted to the very end of the day, at nightfall the body, which had with difficulty been protected amid heaps of slain and streams of blood, was dragged off under cover of darkness (…). By this death the palace was saddened, and all the nobles, as well as the father, were stunned by the sudden calamity; accordingly, a truce was declared and the young man, honored for his high birth and beloved, was mourned after the fashion of his own nation. Accordingly, he was carried out, armed in his usual manner, and placed upon a large and lofty platform, and about him were spread ten couches bearing figures of dead men, so carefully made ready that the images were like bodies already in the tomb. For the space of seven days all men by communities and companies feasted (lamenting the young prince) with dances and the singing of certain sorrowful dirges (…).
    After the body had been burned and the ashes collected and placed in a silver urn, since the father had decided that they should be taken to his native land to be consigned to the earth, they debated what it was best to do; and it was resolved to propitiate the spirit of the slain youth by burning and destroying the city; for Grumbates would not allow them to go farther while the shade of his only son was unavenged.

    This is one of the most “popular” sections of Ammianus’ work; after the fiasco of the previous day Šābuhr II (or perhaps Bahrām Kušān Šāh or Pērōz, according to Cribb and Rezakhani’s hypothesis) sent his vassal/ally Grumbates, king of the Chionites, to try to negotiate the surrender of Amida. Once again they were met with hostility, and Grumbates’ son was killed by one of the artillery pieces that the Romans had placed on the walls of the city (a ballista, which fired large arrows, and whose missiles were more than enough to pierce the heavy armor worn by Sasanian heavy cavalrymen). After leaving the field in a panic, the Chionites returned to retrieve the body while the Roman defenders made a sally to contest it, but finally, upon cover of night, they managed to rescue the corpse of the fallen prince. That the Chionites were not ethnically Iranian is made clear by Ammianus’ mention of the prince being burnt in a pyre, which would’ve been an utter abomination for any self-respectful Zoroastrian (it would’ve been a pollution of fire, the most sacred of the elements) and at the time there would’ve been very few Iranian peoples who did not follow Zoroastrian custom in one way or another (perhaps some nomad tribes in the steppe, part of the Bactrians who were Buddhist and the pre-Pashtun peoples of Afghanistan, who would’ve been either Buddhist or would’ve followed pre-Zoroastrian Aryan religion).

    Ballista.jpg

    Reconstruction of a Roman ballista, of the type that would have been mounted on top of the walls of a fortress.

    According to Ammianus, it was this death that sealed the decision of the invading army to take and destroy the city. Once again, we’re faced here with an ancient author’s flair for drama and the irresistible temptation of drawing parallels with the classic works of Graeco-Roman culture (one of the two fragments I’ve edited out from the quote above has Ammianus waxing poetic comparing the death of Grumbates’ son and the fight for his corpse to passages from the Iliad). Perhaps I’m too cynical, but I find it hard to believe that Šābuhr II, who by now was a man of fifty years of age, and who had reigned personally for almost thirty-five of them, and who had shown time and again his ruthlessness, cunning and sharp eye for diplomacy and military command, would allow a campaign to be derailed like that by a vassal king (and one who had been a sworn enemy until recently). Several scholars believe that besieging and taking Amida (without bloodshed if possible) was Šābuhr II’s intention from the start, and that the Roman soldier who manned the ballista that killed Grumbates’ son actually did the Šahān Šāh a great favor, because this death cemented the resolve of his allies to take the city, and I agree with them. Ammianus’ account enters now into the siege of Amida proper, and his writing takes an epic flavor that I’m sure was much to the old soldier’s liking (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI, XIX, 2.2-5):

    Accordingly, after two days had been given to rest, a large force was sent to devastate the rich, cultivated fields, which were unprotected as in time of peace; then the city was surrounded by a fivefold line of shields, and on the morning of the third day gleaming bands of horsemen filled all places which the eye could reach, and the ranks, advancing at a quiet pace, took the places assigned them by lot. The Persians beset the whole circuit of the walls. The part which faced the east fell to the lot of the Chionitae, the place where the youth so fatal to us was slain, whose shade was destined to be appeased by the destruction of the city. The Gelani were assigned to the southern side, the Albani guarded the quarter to the north, and to the western gate were opposed the Segestani, the bravest warriors of all. With them, making a lofty show, slowly marched the lines of elephants, frightful with their wrinkled bodies and loaded with armed men, a hideous spectacle, dreadful beyond every form of horror, as I have often declared.
    Beholding such innumerable peoples, long got together to set fire to the Roman world and bent upon our destruction, we despaired of any hope of safety and henceforth strove to end our lives gloriously, which was now our sole desire. And so, from sunrise until the day’s end the battle lines stood fast. as though rooted in the same spot; no sound was heard, no neighing of horses; and they withdrew in the same order in which they had come, and then refreshed with food and sleep, when only a small part of the night remained, led by the trumpeters’ blast they surrounded the city with the same awful ring, as if it were soon to fall.
     
    8.4 THE SIEGE OF AMIDA. THE SASANIAN SIEGE AND THE FALL OF THE CITY.
  • 8.4 THE SIEGE OF AMIDA. THE SASANIAN SIEGE AND THE FALL OF THE CITY.


    In the XIX book of his Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI Ammianus gives a lengthy account of the siege, in which he gives free rein to his rhetorical urges. Quoting all of his account would be tiresome, so I will quote only some passages in order to offer a general idea of the siege as comprehensive as possible. The first fragment is this one (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI, XIX 2.6-10):

    And hardly had Grumbates hurled a bloodstained spear, following the usage of his country and the custom of our fetial priest, than the army with clashing weapons flew to the walls, and at once the lamentable tempest of war grew fiercer, the cavalry advancing at full speed as they hurried to the fight with general eagerness, while our men resisted with courage and determination.
    Then heads were shattered, as masses of stone, hurled from the scorpions, crushed many of the enemy; others were pierced by arrows, some were struck down by spears and the ground strewn with their bodies, while others that were only wounded retreated in headlong flight to their companions. No less was the grief and no fewer the deaths in the city, since a thick cloud of arrows in compact mass darkened the air, while the artillery which the Persians had acquired from the plunder of Singara inflicted still more wounds. For the defenders, recovering their strength and returning in relays to the contest they had abandoned, when wounded in their great ardor for defense fell with destructive results; or if only mangled, they overturned in their writhing those who stood next to them, or at any rate, so long as they remained alive kept calling for those who had the skill to pull out the arrows implanted in their bodies. Thus, slaughter was piled upon slaughter and prolonged to the very end of the day, nor was it lessened even by the darkness of evening, with such great determination did both sides fight.

    It's a curious detail to notice Grumbates’ symbolic throwing of a bloodstained spear in the direction of the walls as the start of the assault, because as Ammianus says, this was also an ancient Roman custom. In this first assault, the Sassanians and their allies seem to have assaulted the walls without help from siege towers, mines, ramps or a any other siege technique, but it’s interesting to note of Ammianus writes about the use of artillery captured by the Sasanians at Singara. This means that sometime before 359 CE, this Roman fortress was captured by the Sasanians, a feat about which we have no records left in the extant sources (it’s in instances such as this one when the lost of the first half of Ammianus’ work is most acutely felt). Needless to say, attacks like this one were doomed to fail against the strong walls of Amida, its defensive artillery and its determined garrison of mostly elite troops.

    Amida-besiegers.png

    Location of the different bodies of the Sasanian army during the siege of Amida, according to Ilkka Syvänne (Military History of Late Rome, 284-361).

    While these Sasanian assaults continued, in the Roman rearguard Ursicinus and Sabinianus quarreled about the feasibility of attempting to relieve the garrison (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI, XIX 3.1-3):

    While the fight was going on at Amida with such determination on both sides, Ursicinus, grieving because he was dependent upon the will of another, who was then of greater authority in the command of the soldiers, frequently admonished Sabinianus, who was still clinging to his graves, that, getting together all his skirmishers, he should hasten by secret paths along the foot of the mountains, so that with the help of these light-armed troops (if fortune was at all favorable) he might surprise the pickets and attack the night-watches of the enemy, who had surrounded the walls in wide extent, or by repeated assaults distract the attention of those who were stoutly persisting in the siege. These proposals Sabinianus opposed as dangerous, publicly offering as a pretext letters of the emperor, which expressly directed that whatever could be done should be effected without injury to the soldiers anywhere, but secretly in his inmost heart keeping in mind that he had often been instructed at court to cut off from his predecessor, because of his burning desire for glory, every means of gaining honor, even though it promised to turn out to the advantage of the state. Such great haste was made, even though attended with the destruction of the provinces, that this valiant warrior should not receive mention as author of, or participant in, any noteworthy action. Therefore, alarmed by this unhappy situation, Ursicinus often sent us scouts, although because of the strict guard no one could easily enter the town, and attempted many helpful things; but he obviously could accomplish nothing (…).

    Despite Ammianus’ obvious bias against Sabinianus and his favoritism for Ursicinus, this passage makes quite clear what were the overall instructions that Constantius II had given to Sabinianus: not to risk the army under any circumstances. And it’s clear also that Sabinianus had no intention of deviating an inch from these written orders. Despite Ammianus’ outburst, we should also keep in mind Sabinianus’ difficult position: Constantius II seems to have been in an increasingly suspicious frame of mind with his purge of the frumentarii and the execution of Barbatio (with good reason, as Julian’s actions in the oncoming months would show), and probably he did not want to give any reason for Constantius II to start suspecting about his loyalties. What Ursicinus proposed (if the number of troops for each army proposed by modern scholars are correct) was quite dangerous; for an attack against the Sasanian army, if it failed, would leave the Roman field army of the East at the mercy of an enemy much superior in cavalry which could turn its retreat into a disaster or even surround it with ease. Such ban attack would only have been feasible with any guarantees with Armenian help, for the Armenians did have a large cavalry army with even more experience than the Romans had in fighting the Sasanians, but the Armenians are conspicuously absent in this campaign, which is really strange taking into account that Amida was located literally next to the southwestern Armenian border.

    As if the situation was not dire enough for the defenders, an epidemic broke out inside the walls due to the “putrid air” (according to Ammianus). The plague though ended after a few days, when a light rain “cleaned the air” (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI, XIX 4.8):

    After we had been exhausted by this destructive plague and a few had succumbed to the excessive heat and still more from the crowded conditions, at last on the night following the tenth day the thick and gross exhalations were dispelled by light showers, and sound health of body was regained.

    But the Sasanian attacks were about to become more refined, and the defenders began to have problems of his own with the troops that had been transferred there from the west (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI, XIX 5.1-3):

    But meanwhile the restless Persian was surrounding the city with sheds and mantlets, and mounds began to be raised and towers were constructed; these last were lofty, with ironclad fronts, and on the top of each a ballista was placed, for the purpose of driving the defenders from the ramparts; yet not even for a moment did the skirmishing by the slingers and archers slacken. There were with us two Magnentian legions, recently brought from Gaul (as I have said) and composed of brave, active men, experienced in battle in the open field, but to the sort of warfare to which we were constrained they were not merely unsuited, but actually a great hindrance; for whereas they were of no help with the artillery or in the construction of fortifications, they would sometimes make reckless sallies and after fighting with the greatest confidence return with diminished numbers, accomplishing just as much as would the pouring of a single handful of water (as the saying is) upon a general conflagration. Finally, when the gates were very carefully barred, and their officers forbade them to go forth, they gnashed their teeth like wild beasts.

    So, after the predictable failure of the first wild assaults, the Sasanians began to set up proper siege works around Amida, and most worryingly they started to build siege towers (Ammianus doesn’t say how many of them) with ballistae placed on top of them, from where the besiegers has a vantage point to shoot down on the Roman defenders on top of the walls; as we saw in the three sieges of Nisibis, the Sasanians had deployed such devices before. And another interesting detail in this fragment is the behavior of the two Magnentian legions. Judging by their behavior (that is, their refusal to help with the artillery or in repairing or building fortifications) and their supposed skill only in open field combat, it’s quite possible that these two units were formed by Germanic recruits. According to Roman authors like Vegetius, Germanic soldiers in Roman service, if they were part of an exclusively Germanic unit, refused to partake in manual labor, as they saw it as unsuited to the status of a warrior and a free man. And of course, this stood in sharp contrast to what was expected and demanded from Roman legionaries since the times of Marius, and according to late Roman military treatises, this resulted in a sharp decline in the overall performance of the Roman army (for example, Roman armies were no longer building systematically fortified encampments while on the march as they would’ve done during Caesar’s lifetime).

    Amida-walls-04.jpg

    View of the walls of Amida at one of the points where the escarpment is steeper; at points like this none the Sasanian assaults would’ve been quite difficult and approaching the walls with siege devices would’ve been impossible.

    This was one of the unwanted consequences of the mass recruitment of Germanic auxiliaries into the Roman army in their own units that (according to many scholars) took place mainly during the reign of Constantine I. These units were of course unknown in the East, but quite abundant in the European armies of the late Roman empire, and when they were sent to the East, their shortcomings became painfully obvious; because in the circumstances of this siege their refusal to help in strengthening the fortifications and their preference for making unplanned sallies against an entrenched and hugely superior enemy was practically suicidal. Ammianus says nothing of the sort, but according to Vegetius and other authors, they had another serious shortcoming: their refused to carry the same weight while on the march as Roman legionaries had usually done, which included also body armor and helmets. When fighting in Europe against equally unarmored Germanic tribesmen, this was perhaps not much of a problem, but when confronted with an enemy that had plenty of heavily armored cavalry and infantry and which relied abundantly on archery, this was a recipe for disaster.

    In the case of Amida, the officers of the two Magnentian units had to resort to the extreme measure of blocking the gates to prevent these more useless costly sallies, at the price of increasing the frustration and discontent of their men. Next, the Sasanian besiegers surprised the defenders with an unexpected ruse (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI, XIX 4.4-8):

    (…) In a remote part of the walls on the southern side, which looks down on the river Tigris, there was a tower rising to a lofty height, beneath which yawned rocks so precipitous that one could not look down without shuddering dizziness. From these rocks subterranean arches had been hollowed out, and skillfully made steps led through the roots of the mountain as far as the plateau on which the city stood, in order that water might be brought secretly from the channel of the river, a device which I have seen in all the fortifications in those regions which border on streams. Through these dark passages, left unguarded because of their steepness, led by a deserter in the city who had gone over to the opposite side, seventy Persian bowmen from the king’s bodyguard who excelled in skill and bravery, protected by the silence of the remote spot, suddenly one by one in the middle of the night mounted to the third story of the tower and there concealed themselves; in the morning they displayed a cloak of red hue, which was the signal for beginning battle, and when they saw the city surrounded on all sides with the floods of their forces, emptying their quivers, and throwing them at their feet, with a conflagration of shouts and yells they sent their shafts in all directions with the utmost skill. And presently all the Persian forces in dense array attacked the city with far greater fury than before. We were perplexed and uncertain where first to offer resistance, whether to those who stood above us or to the throng mounting on scaling-ladders and already laying hold of the very battlements; so the work was divided among us and five of the lighter ballistae were moved and placed over against the tower, rapidly pouring forth wooden shafts, which sometimes pierced even two men at a time. Some of the enemy fell, severely wounded; others, through fear of the clanging engines, leaped off headlong and were dashed to pieces. This being so quickly accomplished, and the engines restored to their usual places, with a little greater confidence all ran together to defend the walls. And since the wicked deed of the deserter increased the soldiers’ wrath, as if they were entering a level ground in a sham fight they used such strength of arm as they hurled their various weapons, that as the day inclined towards noon the enemy were scattered in bitter defeat, and lamenting the death of many of their number, retreated to their tents through fear of wounds.

    The infiltration of the seventy elite Sasanian archers ended well for the Roman defenders thanks to the Roman defensive artillery that saved the day, as it had done so many times before in previous sieges. The next event in the siege according to Ammianus’ narrative was the night sally against the besiegers, made by the two Magnentian legions under menace of open mutiny against their officers (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI, XIX 6.5-11):

    We, at our wit’s end and in doubt what opposition ought to be made to the raging Gauls, at last chose this course as the best, to which they reluctantly consented: that since they could no longer be restrained, they should wait for a while and then be allowed to attack the enemy’s outposts, which were stationed not much farther than a bowshot away, with the understanding that if they broke through them, they might keep right on. For it was apparent that, if their request were granted, they would deal immense slaughter. While preparations for this were going on, the walls were being vigorously defended by various kinds of effort: by toil and watchfulness and by placing engines so as to scatter stones and darts in all directions. However, two lofty mounds were constructed by a troop of Persian infantry, and the storming of the city was being prepared with slowly built siege-works; and in opposition to these troops our soldiers also with extreme care were rearing earthworks of great height, equal in elevation to those of the enemy and capable of supporting the greatest possible weight of fighting men.
    Meanwhile the Gauls, impatient of delay, armed with axes and swords rushed out through an opened postern gate, taking advantage of a gloomy, moonless night and praying for the protection of heaven, that it might propitiously and willingly aid them. And holding their very breath when they had come near the enemy, they rushed violently upon them in close order, and having slain some of the outposts, they butchered the outer guards of the camp in their sleep (since they feared nothing of the kind), and secretly thought of a surprise attack even on the king’s quarters, if a favorable fortune smiled on them. But the sound of their cautious advance, slight though it was, and the groans of the dying were heard, and many of the enemy were roused from sleep and sprang up, while each for himself raised the call to arms. Our soldiers stood rooted to the spot, not daring to advance farther; for it no longer seemed prudent, when those against whom the surprise was directed were aroused, to rush into open danger, since now throngs of raging Persians were coming to battle from every side, fired with fury. But the Gauls faced them, relying on their strength of body and keeping their courage unshaken as long as they could, cut down their opponents with the sword, while a part of their own number was slain or wounded by the cloud of arrows flying from every side. But when they saw that the whole weight of peril and all the troops of the enemy were turned against one spot, although not one of them turned his back, they made haste to get away; and as if retreating to music, they were gradually forced out beyond the rampart, and being now unable to withstand the bands of foemen rushing upon them in close order, and excited by the blare of trumpets from the camp, they withdrew. And while many clarions sounded from the city, the gates were thrown open to admit our men, if they could succeed in getting so far, and the hurling-engines roared constantly, but without discharging any missiles, in order that since those in command of the outposts, after the death of their comrades were unaware of what was going on behind them, the men stationed before the walls of the city might abandon their unsafe position, and the brave men might be admitted through the gate without harm. By this device the Gauls entered the gate about daybreak in diminished numbers, a part severely others slightly wounded (the losses of that night were four hundred); and if a mightier fate had not prevented, they would have slain, not Rhesus nor the Thracians encamped before the walls of Troy, but the king of the Persians in his own tent, protected by a hundred thousand armed men. In honor of their officers, as leaders in these brave deeds, after the destruction of the city the emperor ordered statues in full armor to be made and set up in a frequented spot at Edessa, and they are preserved intact to the present time.

    So, finally the two Magnentian legions had their desired sally; it went better than it could’ve been expected thanks to the surprise attained under the cover of darkness, and apparently they even managed to get near to the tent of the Šahān Šāh himself, but finally they had to retreat under the weight of the superior numbers of the besiegers, and they were once more saved from total destruction by the Roman defensive artillery.

    Cornuti-Seniores.jpg

    Reenactors dressed in the garb of late Roman light infantrymen, without armor. They wear the shields of the Cornuti Seniores, a unit of auxilia palatina listed in the Notitia Dignitatum, and which were descended from the legio Cornuti, a unit which in 359 CE formed part of Julian’s army in Gaul. It was a legion that formed part of the field army of Gaul, and which was probably recruited locally amongst the neighboring Germanic tribes from the other side of the Rhine, which makes it a unit with a very similar background to the two Magnentian legions that were present at Amida.

    It was a futile and heroic action that brought glory to the soldiers of the two Magnentian units and nothing to the defense of the city. The Sasanians renewed the assaults after a three-day truce (as apparently the Gauls had managed to kill some “satraps” and grandees during their night sally), and now the intensity of the siege escalated (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI, XIX 7.2-8):

    And now through the zeal of all the preparations were completed, and as the morning star shone forth various kinds of siege-works were brought up, along with ironclad towers, on the high tops of which ballistae were placed, and drove off the defenders who were busy lower down. And day was now dawning, when mail-clad soldiers spread under the entire heaven, and the dense forces moved forward, not as before in disorder, but led by the slow notes of the trumpets and with no one running forward, protected too by pent-houses and holding before them wicker hurdles. But when their approach brought them within bowshot, though holding their shields before them the Persian infantry found it hard to avoid the arrows shot from the walls by the artillery, and took open order, and almost no kind of dart failed to find its mark; even the mail-clad horsemen were checked and gave ground, and thus increased the courage of our men. However, because the enemy’s ballistae, mounted as they were upon iron-clad towers, were effective from their higher place against those lower down, on account of their different position they had a different result and caused terrible carnage on our side; and when evening was already coming on and both sides rested, the greater part of the night was spent in trying to devise a remedy for this awful slaughter.
    And at last, after turning over many plans, we resolved upon a plan which speedy action made the safer, namely, to oppose four scorpions to those same ballistae; but while they were being moved exactly opposite and cautiously put in place (an act calling for the greatest skill) the most sorrowful of days dawned upon us, showing as it did formidable bands of Persians along with troops of elephants, than whose noise and huge bodies the human mind can conceive nothing more terrible. And while we were hard pressed on every side by weight of armed men, siege-works, and monsters, round stones hurled at intervals from the battlements by the iron arms of our scorpions shattered the joints of the towers, and threw down the ballistae and those who worked them in such headlong fashion, that some perished without injury from wounds, others were crushed to death by the great weight of debris. The elephants, too, were driven back with great violence, for they were surrounded by firebrands thrown at them from every side, and as soon as these touched their bodies, they turned tail and their drivers were unable to control them. But though after that the siege-works were burned up, there was no cessation from strife. For even the king of the Persians himself, who is never compelled to take part in battles, aroused by these storms of ill-fortune, rushed into the thick of the fight like a common soldier (a new thing, never before heard of) and because he was more conspicuous even to those who looked on from a distance because of the throng of his body-guard, he was the mark of many a missile; and when many of his attendants had been slain he withdrew, interchanging the tasks of his tractable forces, and at the end of the day, though terrified by the grim spectacle neither of the dead nor of the wounded he at last allowed a brief time to be given to rest.

    To me it seems as if now some commander with more calm and experience (maybe Šābuhr II himself?) took direct command of the siege after the initial ardor of the assaulters had been crushed by the steady defense of the Roman garrison. The new assault was conducted apparently in a more orderly fashion, with the Sasanian infantry initially advancing in close order against the walls, but when it was hit by the energetic missile fire from the walls, it adopted an open order formation, although according to Ammianus this did not cut its losses down. But what seems to have really made things difficult for the Roman defenders this time was the fire of the ballistae mounted on top of the siege towers. According to Ammianus these towers had been built with a cover or iron armor to make them invulnerable against arrows, incendiary missiles and ballista shots, but now the Romans resorted once more to their arsenal of defensive artillery, and opposed four scorpions to the Sasanian towers, one against each of them (so, the Sasanians must’ve built four towers in total). A scorpion is the same as a ballista, although as these ones could hurl stones, we can assume they were bigger and more powerful ones than usual. By hurling stones to the Sasanian towers, the Roman defenders finally managed to bring down all of the Sasanian towers; presumably the collapse of the upper parts of the towers under the shots of the scorpions left the innards of the towers open and exposed to Roman incendiary missiles, which the defenders then exploited to set the towers on fire. The assault ended in a costly defeat for the Sasanian besiegers. But of course, Šābuhr II (who apparently took part personally in this round of fighting according to Ammianus’ account) was not disheartened; he’d shown time and again that he was nothing and not obstinate and so the assaults against the city continued (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI, XIX 8.1-4):

    But night put an end to the conflict; and having taken a nap during the brief period of rest, the king, as soon as dawn appeared, boiling with wrath and resentment and closing his eyes to all right, aroused the barbarians against us, to win what he hoped for; and when the siege-works had been burned (as I have shown) they attempted battle over high mounds close to the walls, whereupon our men erected heaps of earth on the inside as well as they could with all their efforts, and under difficulties resisted with equal vigor.
    For a long time the sanguinary battle remained undecided, and not a man anywhere through fear of death gave up his ardor for defense; and the contest had reached a point when the fate of both parties was governed by some unavoidable hap, when that mound of ours, the result of long toil, fell forward as if shattered by an earthquake. Thus the gulf which yawned between the wall and the heap built up outside was made a level plain, as if by a causeway or a bridge built across it, and opened to the enemy a passage blocked by no obstacles, while the greater part of the soldiers that were thrown down ceased fighting, being either crushed or worn out. Nevertheless, others rushed to the spot from all sides, to avert so sudden a danger; but in their desire for haste they impeded one another, while the boldness of the enemy was increased by their very success. Accordingly, by the king’s command all the warriors were summoned and there was a hand-to-hand contest with drawn swords; blood streamed on all sides from the vast carnage; the trenches were blocked with bodies and so a broader path was furnished. And now the city was filled with the eager rush of the enemy’s forces, and since all hope of defense or of flight was cut off, armed and unarmed alike without distinction of sex were slaughtered like so many cattle.

    Finally, the Sasanians resorted to a sound and proven technique that both them and the Romans knew well (the Romans used it for example against Jerusalem in 70 CE and against Masada in 73-74 CE, and Šābuhr I used it against Dura Europos in the III century CE): assault ramps. of course, building them was a dangerous, costly and time-consuming task, which in this case had to be done under fire of the fearsome defensive artillery of Amida. Here, the Sasanians exploited one of Amida’s defensive weaknesses: the city had no moat, and one of the topographic characteristics of its emplacement: the most secure way to counter a siege ramp was to dig a mine under it, but at Amida the rocky basalt soil prevented the digging of mines.

    If the assault ramp reached the battlements, two things would happen: the attackers could reach the battlements directly and the defenders would lose the height advantage, and the weight of the earth of the ramp when it reached the wall could be enough to cause the collapse of the wall inwards. To fight the first (and sure) effect the more secure method was to rise the height of the walls (as it was done already by the defenders of Plataea against the Spartan besiegers during the V century BCE) and to counter the second (and less probable) effect, the defenders could build a ramp on the inside to improve the stability of the wall.

    Ammianus’ account is confusing in this point, but it seems to me that the Roman defenders made the mistake of building their own ramp inside the walls too fast, so that it reached the wall before the Sasanian siege ramp did, and that the effect was that the wall suddenly collapsed outwards, filling with its debris the gap that still existed between the wall and the besieger’s ramp.

    Amida-walls-08.jpg

    Aerial view of the walls of Amida from the northwest. The northern and western sides of the walls were not protected by the basaltic escarpment, and it would have been in these sectors where the Sasanians would have concentrated their assaults. What’s almost sure is that the Sasanians could only have deployed their siege towers and the siege ramp in these parts of the wall.

    This time, unlike at Nisibis, there was no morass of mud to impede a Sasanian assault, and Šābuhr II immediately launched all available forces at hand against the breach before the Romans could react. According to Ammianus, this time the Roman defenders could not form a phalanx formation, and the defensive fire from the standing fragments of the wall to both sides of the breach was not enough to stop the Sasanian assault, and the besiegers stormed the city and massacred everyone they encountered, as it usually happened when cities were taken by assault. Ammianus managed to evade death or capture by hiding and fleeing the city under cover of night; he managed to reach Melitene in Lesser Armenia and from there he went to Antioch.

    The fate of Amida, its citizens and the captured defenders though was grim (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI, XIX 9.1-2; 9):

    But the Persians, since the rapidly approaching end of autumn and the rising of the unfavorable constellation of the Kids prevented them from marching farther inland, were thinking of returning to their own country with their prisoners and their booty. But in the midst of the slaughter and pillage of the destroyed city Count Aelianus and the tribunes, by whose efficient service the walls had been so long defended and the losses of the Persians increased, were shamefully gibbeted; Jacobus and Caesius, paymasters of the commander of the cavalry, and other officers of the bodyguard, were led off with their hands bound behind their backs; and those who had come from across the Tigris were hunted down with extreme care and butchered to a man, highest and lowest without distinction (…).

    But the king, although making a show of ease of mind in his expression, and to all appearance seeming to exult in the destruction of the city, yet in the depths of his heart was greatly troubled, recalling that in unfortunate sieges he had often suffered sad losses, and had sacrificed far more men himself than he had taken alive of ours, or at any rate had killed in the various battles, as happened several times at Nisibis and at Singara; and in the same way, when he had invested Amida for seventy-three days with a great force of armed men, he lost 30,000 warriors, as was reckoned a little later by Discenes, a tribune and secretary, the more readily for this difference: that the corpses of our men soon after they are slain fall apart and waste away, to such a degree that the face of no dead man is recognizable after four days, but the bodies of the slain Persians dry up like tree-trunks, without their limbs wasting or becoming moist with corruption-a fact due to their more frugal life and the dry heat of their native country.

    The reason for Šābuhr II’s decision to return to Ērānšahr was probably the lateness of the season and the existence of several strong Roman garrisons at his back rather than astrology. Amida was not garrisoned by a Sasanian garrison (probably because it was located too deep behind Roman lines) but destroyed, and Šābuhr II displayed his characteristic ruthlessness when dealing with the defenders. The commander of the garrison, the comes Aelianus, and the tribunes of the legions that had garrisoned the city were all executed (let’s remember that Aelianus had already inflicted a humiliated defeat to Šābuhr II at Singara in the 340s), and the rest of captured officers (and probably also their men) were carried off to captivity into the Sasanian empire, with one exception: all the defenders who had been recruited at the regiones Transtigritanae were executed without mercy, common soldiers and officers alike (which included probably the bulk of the light legions Superventores and Praeventores; these units seem to have been usually posted in these territories, and could have been formed mostly by local recruits). Clearly, Šābuhr II considered these men to be traitors (from Ammianus’ account we know that this king proceeded without pity against deserters and traitors and also against their families).

    Masada.jpg

    View of the (partially rebuilt) remains of the gigantic siege ramp built by the Romans at Masada in 73-74 CE, perhaps the most famous example of this siege technique.

    But according to Ammianus, the siege also had a fearful cost for the besiegers: thirty thousand men, and this time Ammianus’ source seems to be an official one, as he even names it in detail: Discenes, a member of the imperial bureaucracy. Harrel and Syvänne think that a good part of these losses must’ve been due to supply problems: as we’ve seen in a previous post, Harrel calculated that a marching army at the time could’ve carried with it in carts or mules up to ninety days in rations for the men and beasts. If Harrel’s estimations are correct about the Sasanian army having spent about a month maneuvering before investing Amida, that would’ve left about sixty days of rations in the supply train, plus what could’ve been reaped locally by foraging; in this respect Amida was located in a rich agricultural valley where the Romans had not enacted the scorched earth policies that they had applies further to the south. The siege according to Ammianus lasted for seventy-three days, and then the Sasanian army would’ve needed to return to Ērānšahr; considering that most major roads were cut by Roman-controlled fortresses, this could not have been done in a straight line, so let’s add thirty more days to the campaign. This means that the Sasanian army “overstayed” for almost a month and a half further than they could judging from the capacity of its supply train. The losses though must’ve been not crippling in any way, for the following year the Sasanian army campaigned against the Romans once more, and with even more success than in 359 CE. By the way, as an interesting aside, notice the “peculiar” way the Romans had according to Ammianus to recognize Roman corpses from Sasanian ones once they had begun to waste away.

    Shapur-II-Silver-Plate-01.jpg

    Sasanian silver dish depicting Šābuhr II at hunt.

    The fall of Amida was for the Romans more of a prestige blow than anything else. The Sasanians after all did not occupy the siege. But it eroded away the defensive structure of Mesopotamia that had been built so carefully by Diocletian, and it also damaged Roman prestige in front of the Armenians and Arabs, as apart from Amida itself the Sasanians also captured and destroyed a series of minor forts along this sector of the limes. It had also supposed the complete loss of a sizeable number of mobile elite troops that it would take years for the Romans to reform again; as in all armies, new recruits were usually added to already existing units, in which veteran soldiers, NCOs and officers helped to turn them into seasoned fighters, but if all the veterans, NCOs and officers were lost like it happened at Amida, things became much more difficult; some estimates have guessed that forming a new elite unit from scratch could take the Romans up to ten years. In any case, the fall of Amida was evidently considered by Constantius II not serious enough to deserve his personal presence in the East, and he remained in Illyricum trying to wrap up his difficult campaign against the Sarmatians and dealing with the increasingly suspicious and rebellious actions of caesar Julian in Gaul (in this sense, the fall of Amida, if not such a great blow to Rome’s military position in the East, was an important blow to Constantius II’s personal prestige, which when added to Julian’s stream of successes in Gaul did not forebode well for the childless augustus). The real military blow would come next year, when during the campaign season of 360 CE Šābuhr II managed to capture Singara and Bezabde in short succession, tearing a huge gap in the Roman strategic defensive ring in Mesopotamia.

    Despite Ammianus’ spirited defense of the actions of his patron and commander Ursicinus, it seems clear (as Harrel points out) that this had not been his finest hour, as he’d failed utterly to anticipate the Sasanian sudden turn to the north that isolated Amida (although it should also be said that neither did his superior Sabinianus). When news of the fall of Amida reached Constantius II, he ordered an official investigation, to be conducted by the comes Arbitio and the magister officiorum Florentius. According to Ammianus, both men were so afraid of the chamberlain Eusebius (Sabinianus’ alleged patron at court) that they concentrated their questions on trivial matters with the result that Ursicinus lost his temper in front of them; he told them that they had no authority to decide on such important matters and that only the augustus himself could judge in this case. Upon receiving news of this outburst, Constantius II dismissed Ursicinus from his command and sent him into private life (by the way, this shows that Constantius II was not the cartoonish and bloodthirsty tyrant that some authors like Ammianus have portrayed).
     
    8.5 THE SASANIAN CAMPAIGN OF 360 CE.
  • 8.5 THE SASANIAN CAMPAIGN OF 360 CE.


    While Amida was besieged, or immediately after it fell to the Sasanians, Constantius II managed to finally settle the situation in the Danube by defeating the Sarmatian Limigantes. According to Ammianus, at this time the augustus unleashed a new wave of purges and trials for high treason, led by the imperial secretary Paulus. It’s noteworthy that all the high-ranking people that was investigated and either condemned or acquitted by Paulus were pagans; the most common accusation against them was that they had inquired the oracles about the death of the emperor and the future of the purple; which had been a crime of high treason since the reign of Augustus.

    My narrative will become a bit convoluted now, because the last months of 359 CE and 360 CE saw a rapid sequence of important events that are narrated by Ammianus with some degree of chronological confusion. After his victory against the Sarmatians, Constantius II wintered in Constantinople, and employed these winter months to strengthen his army (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI, XX, 8.1):

    These were the events of that year between the Tigris and the Euphrates. Constantius, learning of them through frequent reports and passing the winter in Constantinople for fear of a Parthian invasion, with particular care furnished the eastern frontier with all kinds of warlike equipment; he also got together arms and recruits, and by the addition of vigorous young men gave strength to the legions, whose steadiness in action had often been conspicuously successful in oriental campaigns. Besides this, he asked the Scythians for auxiliaries, either for pay or as a favor, intending in the late spring to set out from Thrace and at once occupy the points of danger.

    The reinforcements for the army came from local recruits (Thrace and Illyricum had been for more than a century the main providers of recruits for the Roman army) and also from the “Scythians”. Almost all scholars understand this archaic literary reference to “Scythians” to mean the Goths, probably the Tervingi. After their sound defeat by Constantine I and his magnanimous behavior towards them after his victory, they were linked by a personal foedus to the House of Constantine that they always honored. And one of the obligations of the foederati was to provide men for the Roman army when the ruling emperor requested it, and it seems that this time they complied without problems to Constantius II’s request. The Goths were particularly strong in cavalry (especially in heavy cavalry, armed with the long contus in the Sarmatian fashion) and Roman emperors had been using them in the East against the Arsacids and Sasanians for a long time, probably since the reign of Caracalla.

    These reinforcements could only have meant that Constantius II was actively preparing a campaign in the East. Syvänne seems sure that when Šābuhr II invaded again early in 360 CE the field army of the East had already been reinforced with forces sent from Europe and was gathered at Edessa, but I’ve been unable to locate any passage in Ammianus’ narrative supporting that view. What’s clear from Ammianus’ account is that Šābuhr II managed to take Singara and Bezabde in quick succession before Constantius II could react, and so when the Roman field army under the command of Constantius II in person began to move, Singara had been razed to the ground and Bezabde had been occupied by a Sasanian garrison that was able to resist the assault of his army.

    That same winter, very serious news reached Constantius II in the East from Gaul, where the caesar Julian had risen openly in revolt and had been proclaimed augustus “spontaneously” by his army at its winter headquarters in Lutetia Parisiorum (modern Paris). Ostensibly, the reason for the mutiny that led to Julian’s acclamatio was the news that Constantius II demanded the transfer of an important part of the army of Gaul to the East in preparation for his campaign against Šābuhr II. According to Ammianus, the Gallic soldiers refused to leave their homes and families, and so they hailed Julian as emperor. His narrative makes it sound very spontaneous and believable, but a careful analysis of the text and the actions of Julian (and the army of Gaul) before and after the uprising makes clear (at least to Syvänne, and I agree with his analysis) that this had been carefully orchestrated and arranged, as it was the case usually with these “pronunciamientos” in the Roman army.

    Julian had already concluded a foedus with the Salian Franks and had allowed them to settle on the Roman side of the Rhine, in what’s today Belgium and the southern Netherlands, a region that the Romans knew as Toxandria. We do not have contemporary accounts detailing this treaty, and so we don’t know if it was done by Julian with Constantius II’s agreement or not. Personally, given his behavior in the upper Rhine and Raetia against the Alamanni, I’m inclined to think that this was done at Julian’s own initiative, and given the nature of these treaties with Germanic peoples, it was a foedus that bound the Salian Franks to Julian in person (or in other words, he would have their support in any Roman civil war, even against Constantius II).

    During the previous campaign season, Julian had also campaigned in the upper Rhine and Danube (the old Agri Decumates) against the Alamanni and Iuthungi, ostensibly to finish up the war against these Germanic peoples after his victory at Argentorate (Strasbourg). But many of these tribes had already surrendered to Constantius II in previous years, and had honored the treaties, having done nothing to deserve the reprisals of Julian’s army. What Julian was doing was to cement his military reputation with his troops (who would’ve been eager to pillage the lands of these tribes after their own homeland had been raided by them), provide them with easy plunder to buy their loyalties, and to make sure that these tribes got the message that the Roman leader they needed to be loyal to was him, not Constantius II. This action in itself, which was duly reported by the Praetorian Prefect of Gaul Florentius to the emperor, should have been enough for Constantius II to dismiss Julian and execute him for high treason (he was attacking Roman allies for his own personal profit), but Constantius II was caught between a rock and a hard place.

    It was highly unadvisable for him to move against Julian quickly (as he had done against Magnentius) for two reasons. First, he was still childless, and Julian was the only male heir of the House of Constantine left alive. And many things depended on dynastic continuity: many of the foedi and treaties signed with the Germanic confederations would have been broken by these foreign peoples if the direct blood descendance from Constantine I was broken; also it was possible that, as both Julian and Constantius were descendants of Constantine I, these foreign peoples chose to side with Julian without being disloyal to their foedus with Rome (at least according to the “barbarian” custom). There was also the issue of another civil war igniting in the empire after Constantius II’s death should the heir lack legitimacy. And finally, there was the military problem: the army of Gaul was loyal to Julian and removing him from scene would probably mean a new civil war, a reenactment of the war against Magnentius. In order to defeat Magnentius quickly, Constantius II had recruited the help of the Franks, Alamanni and Sarmatians, and although Magnentius had been defeated in less than a year, expelling the “barbarian” invaders from Roman soil had taken Constantius II nearly a decade, and it had only been feasible thanks to the fact that Šābuhr II was distracted by the events in Central Asia. Now that the Sasanian king had settled the situation there and was again on the warpath, and after all the blood and treasury spent in the fight against the Sarmatians, Franks and Alamanni, it’s quite probable that Constantius II was very reluctant to fight a new civil war. And now, after Julian’s actions along the Rhine and upper Danube, the Franks and Alamanni would’ve probably sided with Julian rather than with Constantius II; the political and strategical position of the augustus within the empire was now much weaker than it had been in 350 CE.

    Julian-01.jpg

    Gold solidus of Julian during his tenure as caesar. On the obverse: D(ominus) N(oster) IVLIANVS NOB(ilissimus) CAES(ar). On the reverse: GLORIA REI PVBLICAE. Mint of Antioch.

    So, Constantius II acted differently from what he’d done a decade earlier. Scholars disagree about what did he want to achieve with his order to Julian to send him almost a third of the army of Gaul as reinforcement. Ostensibly, he wanted reinforcements for the Eastern war, and in this sense he was perfectly entitled to do so. Harrel also notes that despite Ammianus’ confused account, it seems that Constantius II didn’t demand the transfer of entire units to the East, but that the reinforcements should amount to one third of the total strength of the army of Gaul (probably by subtracting one third of the men in each unit, in detachments of about three hundred men), which would have been a sensible precaution in order to avoid weakening it too much, in view of the constant threat posed by the Franks and Alamanni. Apart from that, he also demanded the transfer of Julian’s four units of auxilia palatina (Heruli, Batavi, Celtae, and Petulantes). But it’s possible that Constantius II also had other motivations to demand this transfer, or at least Julian and his court could have read the transfer as an attempt by Constantius II to deliberately weaken Julian’s command. In turn, that would imply that the augustus suspected his caesar of being disloyal and was purposefully stripping him of troops in order to weaken his military position before he marched against him. This would’ve been reinforced by the fact that Constantius II had sent the imperial notary Decentius to handpick the men that had to be sent to the East and that he ordered the tribune Sintula to take also the best fighters of Julian’s two elite cavalry units of the Schola; it reeked of a carefully planned purge. And given Constantius II’s personal history, they would’ve been quite justified in thinking so: this is exactly what Constantius II had done some years earlier before executing Gallus (who had been Julian’s brother, so it would’ve been quite a frightening prospect).

    Constantius II probably received the news from his secret service and loyal officials in the West before an official letter from Julian arrived trying to “explain” his actions and attempting to negotiate with his cousin. Ammianus’ use of probably forged letters is of course a topos of ancient writers, but such a literary device lets us know that Julian conducted some sort of official diplomatic rapprochement towards his cousin during that winter and that it quickly came to nothing (as Julian probably intended). Ammianus’ chronology is very muddy in this part of his account, but he says that Julian’s envoys reached him at Caesarea in Cappadocia, halfway between Constantinople and Mesopotamia, and that Constantius II burst in ager when he read the letters of his cousin. That means that he had already abandoned his winter quarters at Constantinople with his army and that it must’ve been already the spring of 360 CE when Julian’s embassy reached him.

    According to Ammianus’ Julian refused to send the emperor any soldiers from the army of Gaul and refused to abdicate from the dignity of augustus which had been “spontaneously” bestowed upon him by the acclamatio of the army. He also let clear that all the military and civilian appointments within his “sphere of influence” would be done by him, not by the senior augustus, but (almost insultingly) added that he would keep sending Constantius II Spanish horses for his race chariots, he would send him some Laeti (defeated “barbarian” tribes deported into Roman territory) for his eastern campaign and would deign himself to let Constantius II to keep appointing Praetorian Prefects for Gaul (presumably only for show, as according to Ammianus, Julian let clear in his letter that the PP of Gaul would be stripped from any power of appointing of dismissing civilian officials). And according to Ammianus, Julian attached to this “open” letter another of a more private nature that his ambassadors delivered personally to Constantius II, and which was far more bitter, and personal.

    The Praetorian Prefect of Gaul Florentius, who was loyal to Constantius II, fled the West and rejoined Constantius II in the East, which means that in a matter of a few months or even weeks Julian had attained total control over both the military and civilian administration in all the Praetorian Prefecture of Gaul, which included Gaul, Britannia and Hispania, as well as the alliance of the powerful Germanic confederations of the Franks and the Alamanni (or at least he had cowered them into keeping quiet and behaving in the event that he had to move the army of Gaul to the East to fight a civil war against his cousin.

    According to Ammianus, Constantius II was now in a dilemma: should he keep advancing to the East against Šābuhr II or should he turn back to the West and deal with the usurper? Constantius II responded surprisingly in a very meek and conciliatory way: he sent an edict to his cousin ordering him to renounce the title of augustus and to return to his previous dignity of caesar; of course, when the edict reached him, Julian put up a show and read it on a military tribunal in front of the assembled army of Gaul, and the soldiers noisily refused to obey it.

    Constantius II’s response is not only out of character for him, but also for any other known Roman emperor, who always gave priority to crushing internal revolts over defeating foreign invasions. He was an experienced and shrewd ruler, and he should’ve been perfectly aware that Julian would refuse to obey, which was an open act of treason. But still, he decided to resume his advance to the East against the Sasanians, treating Julian’s usurpation, in Harrel’s words, as “some kind of joke”. Why did Constantius II react this way? In my opinion, he must’ve been desperate because of the dynastic conundrum, and he hoped to deal quickly with the alarming Sasanian invasion (which had rapidly become catastrophic for the Roman defenses in the East) and then turn back to the west to deal with Julian, hopefully with his back secure for a campaign season or two, or perhaps he even hoped that his spies and assassins (a weapon of the Roman emperors to which few historians have given due credit) could deal with the usurper without need for a full-scale civil war. In this, he made two fatal mistakes: he sold his Sasanian enemies short and he also did the same with Julian.

    According to Harrel, by late spring or early summer Constantius II had reached Edessa, on the eastern bank of the Euphrates (probably via Melitene and Samosata), and had probably joined forces with the reduced army of the east. Now the Romans had an army of maneuver strong enough to risk a field battle with the main assembled invasion army of Šābuhr II for the campaign of 360 CE.

    This campaign was to be very different from all the previous invasions of Roman Mesopotamia by Šābuhr II and shows that the Šahān Šāh had matured as a strategist and was finally able to outmaneuver completely his Roman opponent, who showed himself utterly incapable to stop the Sasanians from taking two of the most important fortresses in Mesopotamia, and unable also to recapture later the one that the Sasanians decided to garrison instead of destroying. To summarize: the 360 CE campaign was a complete and utter disaster for Constantius II. Sadly, the account for this campaign in Ammianus’ work is way shorter than the account for the previous year’s events, which is understandable given that this time Ammianus was not directly present at any of the engagements.

    We don’t know when did Šābuhr II start his 360 CE campaign; Ammianus described it in his account before the events that I’ve told before, but John Harrel thinks that the Šahān Šāh began his campaign at quite an advanced date, well into the summer. If that’s correct, then it probably started when Constantius II and his army had already reached their base of operations at Edessa, which makes the failure of the Roman reaction more glaring. Harrel’s time estimate for the start on the invasion is an educated guess. Šābuhr II managed to capture the two Roman main fortresses of Singara and Bezabde in quick succession, but as they were located near the Sasanian border, the approaching marches must’ve been short ones, and supplying the army would’ve not been a problem. But when Constantius II finally reacted and reached Bezabde (which had been occupied by a Sasanian garrison, while Singara had been razed to the ground) with his army, his assaults failed and had to retreat due to the lateness of the season. Harrel thinks that Šābuhr II attacked so late in the season precisely because of this, taking advantage of what was to reveal itself as the main strategic mistake of Constantius II: the Roman emperor expected his adversary to repeat his behavior of the 340s CE and attack Nisibis, and so he chose Edessa as his main base of operations. As I said in a previous chapter, Edessa was very suitably located for this sort of defense, as it was located halfway between Nisibis and the main fords across the Euphrates. But when Šābuhr II concentrated his attacks against the two Roman fortresses located in the extreme eastern and southeastern corners of Mesopotamia, the choice of Edessa as the Roman main base revealed itself as a mistake, as it left the Roman field army posted too far to the west from the two fortresses. And this time, there was no possibility of threatening the Sasanian extended lines of supply, as the two fortresses were located next to the border. When Bezabde fell and Šābuhr II’s field army retreated leaving a garrison behind him, Constantius II was left with too short of a time span to react, which would’ve been exactly what the Šahān Šāh had wanted to achieve (according to Harrel). But Syvänne doesn’t agree in this, and he implies that Šābuhr II enjoyed such a free hand in Mesopotamia because Constantius II had been delayed in Asia Minor due to the actions of Julian.

    In Ammianus’ account, there’s no mention to eastern allies in the Sasanian army for this campaign, so scholars assume that this time Šābuhr II’s dubious eastern subjects did not participate in it; the reason is unknown although it could be due to the fact that they had suffered high losses the previous year. If this assumption is correct, then this time the Sasanian army would’ve included mainly forces levied in Iran proper apart from Šābuhr II’s professional standing army. As we will see, this time the Sasanian army also seems to have taken with it significantly heavier siege equipment that helped to speed considerably the (always costly and risky) process of conquering the Roman fortresses. Let’s start with Ammianus’ account of the fall of Singara (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI, XX, 6.1-2):

    While these things were being vigorously carried out in Gaul, that savage king of the Persians, since the urgency of Antoninus was doubled by the coming of Craugasius, burned with the desire of gaining possession of Mesopotamia while Constantius was busy at a distance with his army. So, having increased his arms and his power and crossed the Tigris in due form, he proceeded to attack Singara, a town which, in the opinion of those who had charge of that region, was abundantly fortified with soldiers and with all necessities. The defenders of the city, as soon as they saw the enemy a long way off, quickly closed the gates and full of courage ran to the various towers and battlements, and got together stones and engines of war; then, when everything was prepared, they all stood fast under arms, ready to repulse the horde, in case it should try to come near the walls.

    I forgot to mention it before, but finally Craugasius of Nisibis deserted to the Sasanians in order to meet his captive wife, and Šābuhr II welcomed him with open arms and gave him an honored post at his court. As I explained in a previous post, Singara was located on the southern escarpments of the Jebel Sinjar range, and as it’s surrounded by completely flat terrain to the south it enjoys commanding views of all the venues of approach to the east and west. So, a Sasanian surprise attack was unlikely, and in effect the Roman garrison reacted in time to the approach of the enemy. Ammianus also states that the fortress was well garrisoned and had plenty of supplies and weapons in order to withstand a protracted siege, as it had done in the 340s CE. I also think that this passage of Ammianus seems to contradict Harrel’s estimates about the chronology of the invasion, as he writes that he wanted to take advantage of the absence of Constantius II and his army, which in my opinion seems to imply that the augustus had still not arrived to Mesopotamia when the invasion started. The start of the siege was similar to that of Amida the previous year, with the Sasanian king offering surrender terms to the Roman garrison (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI, XX, 6.3-4):

    Accordingly, the king on his arrival, through his grandees, who were allowed access, tried by peaceful mediation to bend the defenders to his will. Failing in this, he devoted the entire day to quiet, but at the coming of next morning’s light he gave the signal by raising the flame-colored banner, and the city was assailed on every side; some brought ladders, others set up engines of war; the greater part, protected by the interposition of penthouses and mantlets, tried to approach the walls and undermine their foundations. Against this onset the townsmen, standing upon their lofty battlements, from a distance with stones and all kinds of missile weapons tried to repel those who boldly strove to force an entrance.

    This went on until the Sasanians resorted to the use of a heavy battering ram (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI, XX, 6.5-9):

    The battle raged for several days with uncertain outcome, and on both sides many were killed and wounded. Finally, in the heat of the mighty conflict, just as evening was coming on, among many engines a ram of uncommon strength was brought up, which with rapidly repeated blows battered the round tower where (as we have related) the city was breached in the former siege. To this spot the people flocked, and the battle went on in dense array; from all sides flew firebrands with blazing torches and fiery darts to set fire to the great menace, while the showers of arrows and slingshots from both sides never ceased. But the sharp head of the ram overcame every attempt at defense, penetrating the joints of the new-laid stones, which were still moist and therefore weak. And while the combat still went on with fire and sword, the tower collapsed and a way was made into the city; the defenders, scattered by the great danger, abandoned the place; the Persian hordes, raising shouts and yells, rushed from all sides and without opposition filled every part of the city; and after a very few of the defenders had been slain here and there, all the rest were taken alive by Sapor’s order and transported to the remotest parts of Persia.
    This city was defended by two legions, the First Flavian and the First Parthian, as well as by a considerable number of natives, with the help of some horsemen who had hastily taken refuge there because of the sudden danger. All these (as I have said) were led off with hands bound, and none of our men could aid them. For the greater part of the army was in camp guarding Nisibis, which was a very long distance off; besides, even in former days no one had ever been able to aid Singara when in trouble, since all the surrounding country was dried up from lack of water. And although in early times a stronghold had been established there as a convenient place for learning in advance of sudden outbreaks of the enemy, yet this was a detriment to the Roman cause, since the place was several times taken with the loss of its defenders.

    The passage above is densely packed with information and deserves a detailed comment. The Sasanians managed to breach the walls of Singara with a giant ram, a siege technique that already Šābuhr I had employed the previous century when he took Antioch for the second time. Ammianus once again refers to a previous fall of Singara to Šābuhr II which has gone unrecorded in history and confirms the previous reference in his account during the siege of Amida. Singara is located in a very dry emplacement, at the northern fringe of the North Mesopotamian Desert, and the environs are completely devoid of trees (and in order to build such a large battering ram, large trees would have been needed); which means that the Sasanian army brought the ram from across the Tigris. Clearly, they were familiar with the layout of the defenses and went straight for the weakest spot, which is to be expected if they had already taken the fortress once.

    Singara-03.jpg

    Aerial photograph of the remains of Singara taken by Sir Aurel Stein’s archaeological expedition to Iraq in 1938.

    It’s unclear if the Roman town was surrounded by a moat, and if it had water or not. Although the town stood basically in a desert, the site enjoys still today plenty of water due to the presence of several springs, to the point that archaeological excavations at the site have revealed that the Roman town had several drainage channels that led the excess water out of the walled precinct towards the desert to the south. So, it’s possible that the town could’ve been surrounded by a moat filled with water, possibly only during spring and early summer, but it’s possible that it could’ve been filled with water all year long. The defense seems to have been quite less spirited than at Amida, for once the wall was breached, the garrison just surrendered. This could be explained by the fact that Singara was garrisoned just by its peacetime garrison, which was formed by two limitanei units. Historians are unsure about what the numerical strength of these units was, because one of these units (Legio I Parthica) was an old model legion that had been first established during the Principate (by Septimius Severus in the 190s CE) and could perhaps had retained a larger amount of effectives than the smaller, new model legions. In any case, they did not display the same fighting resolve as the garrison of Amida had shown the previous year, and this could be due to a difference in training and fighting qualities between limitanei and mobile units (let’s remember that most of the Amida garrison was formed by mobile units), to low morale due to the fall of Amida the previous years, to a perceived hopelessness and abandonment by Constantius II’s army, which must’ve been located far away from Singara (at Edessa at the nearest), or to a combination of any of these factors. Ammianus doesn’t say it explicitly, but like it happened at Amida, probably the fall of Singara also meant the fall of other minor Roman fortresses and advanced posts in this sector, which tore a large gap in the Roman defensive system in Mesopotamia, and worst of all: just in the area that had served as the main avenue of approach in all of Šābuhr II’s invasions.

    Singara-01.png

    The Sasanian siege of Singara in 360 CE (according to Ilkka Syvänne, Military History of Late Rome, 284-361)

    Ammianus attributes the two falls of Singara to the remoteness of its location which according to him made very difficult to send reinforcement armies there due to the distance and the lack of water along the road there from Nisibis. But as scholars have noted, the Sasanian army would’ve suffered from the same problems in such a hostile environment, and the Romans had been able during the 340s CE to repulse two major Sasanian attacks against the fortress, one of them by the intervention of Constantius II’s field army that led to the battle of Eleia/Singara, and the second one due to a night sally by the light legions commanded by the comes Aelianus. The defenders were deported into Ērānšahr and Singara was razed to the ground; the quick fall of the town left Šābuhr II with enough time in the campaign season to turn to the northeast and attack Bezabde, another major Roman fortress located on the western shore of the Tigris and from which the Romans could control all movement northwards along this part of the valley and could project their control over the southern satrapies of the Regiones Transtigritanae (Amida had performed the same function for the northern satrapies). Bezabde put up a strong resistance, but it also fell to the armies of the Šahān Šāh (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI, XX, 7.1-4):

    After the destruction of the city (i.e. Singara) the king prudently turned aside from Nisibis, doubtless remembering what he had often suffered there, and marched to the right by side roads to Bezabde, which its early founders also called Phaenicha, hoping to gain entrance into the place by force or by winning the defenders with flattering promises. Bezabde was a very strong fortress, placed upon a hill of moderate height which sloped towards the banks of the Tigris, and where it was low and therefore exposed to danger it was fortified with a double wall. For the defense of the place three legions were assigned, the Second Flavian, the Second Armenian, and also the Second Parthian with a great number of bowmen of the Zabdiceni, on whose soil, at that time subject to us, this town was situated.
    On his first attack the king himself, with a troop of horsemen gleaming in full armor and himself towering above the rest, rode about the circuit of the camp, and with over-boldness advanced to the very edge of the trenches. But becoming the target of repeated missiles from the ballistae and of arrows, he was protected by a close array of shields placed side by side as in a tortoise-mantlet and got away unhurt. However, he suppressed his anger for the time being, and sending heralds in the usual manner, courteously urged the besieged, taking regard for their lives and their hope for the future, to put an end to the blockade by a timely surrender, unbar their gates and come forth, presenting themselves as suppliants to the conqueror of the nations. When these heralds dared to come close, the defenders of the walls spared them for the reason that they had brought in close company with them some freeborn men who had been taken prisoner at Singara and were recognized by the garrison. In pity for these men no one hurled a weapon; but to the offer of peace no answer was made.

    The exact site of Bezabde is unknown with absolute certainty. Most scholars assume that it stood in the site of a promontory located near the modern Turkish city of Cizre. Archaeological digs have never been conducted at the site, but it seems to correspond quite well with Ammianus’ account of the siege. It’s located in a place from which the Roman garrison could control a crossing point across the Tigris; near it stand to this day the remains of a bridge built during medieval times probably on top of an older Sasanian structure, although currently the ruins are located quite far from the river, due to changes in the riverbed. The site stands on top of a hill that commands the river valley, but it’s not a very steep hill and so it was not unapproachable by heavy siege engines. Ammianus’s account implies the existence of a moat, as the Sasanian attackers had to approach the walls carrying hurdles of branches which would’ve probably been used to fill the moat.

    Map-02.jpg

    Map of the Upper Tigris region in Late Antiquity, showing the locations of Singara and Bezabde, as well as the ancient roads. The other major Roman fortresses on the border were Cepha, Castra Maurorum (hypothetical location shown in the map) and Virta, whose location is unknown.

    As for the garrison, it was formed by two limitanei legions, one of which was also an old unit dating back to the Principate (Legio II Parthica, created by Septimius Severus in the 190s CE) while Legio II Armeniaca was raised by Diocletian. Legio II Flavia Virtutis though seems to have been a mobile legion raised by Constantius II. These three units were reinforced by native fighters, who fought as bowmen according to Ammianus. The total numbers of the garrison must’ve stood at 3,000 men as a minimum, and perhaps more. Šābuhr II in person (according to Ammianus) rode around the walls with his escort to survey the defense, and when he got too near to the walls he was (as usual) received with a rain of missiles. He sent a delegation of envoys next, and that this time they used Roman prisoners captured at Singara as human shields; but the defenders refused to accept Šābuhr II’s surrender terms (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI, XX, 7.5-9):

    Then a truce was granted for a whole day and night, but before the beginning of the next day the entire force of the Persians fiercely attacked the rampart, uttering cruel threats and roaring outcries; and when they had boldly advanced close up to the walls, they began to fight with the townsmen, who resisted with great vigor. And for this reason, a large number of the Parthians were wounded, because, some carrying scaling ladders, others holding hurdles of osiers before them, they all rushed within range as though blinded; and our men were not unscathed. For clouds of arrows flew thick and fast, and transfixed the defenders as they stood crowded together. After sunset the two parties separated with equal losses, but just before dawn of the following day, while the trumpets sounded on one side and the other, the struggle was renewed with much greater ardor than before, and on either side equally great heaps of dead were to be seen, since both parties fought most obstinately.
    But on the following day, which after manifold losses had by common consent been devoted to rest, since great terror encircled the walls and the Persians had no less grounds for fear, the chief priest of the sect of Christians indicated by signs and nods that he wished to go forth; and when a pledge had been given that he would be allowed to return in safety, he came as far as the king’s tent. There being given permission to say what he wished, with mild words he advised the Persians to return to their homes, declaring that after the lamentable losses on both sides it was to be feared that perhaps even greater ones might follow. But it was in vain that he persisted in making these and many similar pleas, opposed as they were by the frenzied rage of the king, who roundly swore that he would not leave the place until the fortress had been destroyed. But the bishop incurred the shadow of a suspicion, unfounded in my opinion, though circulated confidently by many, of having told Sapor in a secret conference what parts of the wall to attack, as being slight within and weak. And in the end there seemed to be ground for this, since after his visit the enemy’s engines deliberately battered those places which were tottering and insecure from decay, and that too with spiteful exultation, as if those who directed them were acquainted with conditions within.

    This fragment is quite an interesting one, for several reasons. First, it seems that this time the exchange of missiles between besiegers and defenders was not as one-sided as in Amida, and that the Roman defenders also sustained heavy losses to the Sasanian archery, to the point that Ammianus points out that both sides gad incurred equal losses. This was bad news for the Romans, as of course the besieging Sasanian army was much larger than the garrison, and at this rate the city would not be able to withstand the siege much longer. And so, after only two days of fighting the Romans sent an envoy to the Sasanian camp, and surprisingly the chosen envoy was the Christian bishop (which is another telltale sign that despite whatever Christian accounts say, this king was not as hostile to Christians as is commonly believed), who failed in his mission. But as the Sasanians would storm the city soon afterwards, suspicions arose among some in the Roman ranks that the bishop had betrayed the defenders by revealing to the Šahān Šāh the weak points in the wall where the attackers should concentrate the efforts of their siege machines, although Ammianus himself (who was not a Christian) dismissed this possibility. The dramatic fall of Bezabde happened soon afterwards (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI, XX, 7.10-15):

    And though the narrow footpaths yielded difficult access to the walls, and the rams that had been prepared were moved forward with difficulty, since the fear of stones thrown by hand and of arrows kept them off, yet neither the ballistae nor the scorpions ceased, the former to hurl darts, the latter showers of stones and with them blazing wicker baskets, smeared with pitch and bitumen. Because of the constant fall of these as they rolled down the slope, the engines were halted as though held fast by deep roots, and the constant shower of fiery darts and brands set them on fire.
    But in spite of all this, and though many fell on both sides, the besiegers were fired with the greater desire to destroy the town, defended though it was by its natural situation and by mighty works, before the winter season, believing that the king’s rage could not be quieted until that was done. Therefore, neither the great outpouring of blood nor the many mortal wounds that were suffered deterred the survivors from like boldness. But after a long and destructive struggle, they finally exposed themselves to extreme peril, and as the enemy pushed on the rams, huge stones coming thick from the walls, and varied devices for kindling fire, debarred them from going forward. However, one ram, higher than the rest, which was covered with wet bull’s hide and therefore less exposed to danger from fire or darts, having gone ahead of all the others, made its way with mighty efforts to the wall. There, digging into the joints of the stones with its huge beak, it weakened a tower and overthrew it. As this fell with a mighty roar, those also who stood upon it were thrown down by its sudden collapse and either dashed to pieces or buried. Thus, they perished by varied and unlooked-for forms of death, while the armed hordes of the enemy, finding the ascent safer, rushed into the town.
    Then, while the din of the yelling Persians thundered on all sides in the terrified ears of the overmatched townsmen, a hotter fight raged within the walls, as bands of our soldiers and of the enemy struggled hand to hand; and since they were crowded body to body and both sides fought with drawn swords, they spared none who came in their way. Finally, the besieged, after long resisting imminent destruction, were at last with great difficulty scattered in all directions by the weight of the huge throng. After that the swords of the infuriated enemy cut down all that they could find, children were torn from their mothers’ breasts and the mothers themselves were butchered, and no man racked what he did. Amid such scenes of horror that nation, greedier still for plunder, laden with spoils of every sort, and leading off a great throng of captives, returned in triumph to their tents.

    The storming of the walls was no easy feat, and Ammianus does not specify how much time it took the Sasanians to breach them (it could even have been a single day). Ammianus implies that the besiegers displayed an array of siege machines, and that despite the rugged terrain, they managed to move them closer to the walls. According to Ammianus’ description and to a visual examination of the supposed site of Bezabde, on the side where the city was more easily approachable the defenses were reinforced with a double wall so that any assault against this side had to manage to cross these two obstacles.

    Cizre-July2012-01.jpg

    Aerial view of the modern Turkish town of Cizre looking to the west. The presumed location of Bezabde is located on the upper left part of the picture, to the southwest of the modern town.

    The Romans responded to the approach of the Sasanian siege engines with the usual rain of stones, arrows and incendiary devices, which seem to have been quite effective as it happened at Amida and they managed to stop them all, except for a large ram (perhaps the same one that the attackers had used at Singara) that the Sasanian infantry managed to approach enough to a tower and breach it. As Ammianus says nothing about there being a double wall in this point, it’s possible that the tower stood at the point where the double wall ended, and hence the Sasanians had probably targeted this specific spot right from the start. Once the wall was breached, the Sasanian infantry poured inside the city and this time the Roman garrison put up a stout resistance until it was finally overwhelmed and the Sasanian soldiers embarked in the usual scene of looting, pillaging and murder that was the fate of cities taken by assault.

    Bezabde-02.jpg

    The Sasanian siege of Bezabde in 360 CE (according to Ilkka Syvänne, Military History of Late Rome, 284-361)

    Probably, the whole siege took between one and two weeks at most, and so in a matter of between one and two months Šābuhr II had managed to tear open a huge gap in the carefully designed protective screen of Roman Mesopotamia and had almost cut the Regiones Transtigritanae from the rest of Roman-controlled Mesopotamia. Now, during the next campaign season he could attack Nisibis once more, but this time without fearing for his supply lines, which means that if Constantius II’s field army did not challenge him in open battle, he could support a siege of the Roman capital city of Mesopotamia for much longer than in any of his previous attempts. Bezabde held a more important strategic position than Singara, and so the Sasanian king decided to occupy the city with a garrison and repair the walls before departing for winter quarters, before the inevitable Roman counterattack to retake the city happened (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI, XX, 7.16-18):

    The king, however, filled with arrogant joy, and having long burned with a desire of taking Phaenicha (i.e. Bezabde), since it was a very convenient stronghold, did not leave the place until he had firmly repaired the shattered parts of the walls, stored up an immense quantity of supplies, and stationed there an armed force of men distinguished for their high birth and renowned for their military skill. For he feared what actually happened, namely, that the Romans, taking to heart the loss of such a powerful stronghold, would strive with all their might to recover it.
    Then, filled with greater confidence and inspired with the hope of accomplishing whatever he might undertake, after capturing some insignificant strongholds, he prepared to attack Virta, a fortress of great antiquity, since it was believed to have been built by Alexander of Macedon; it was situated indeed on the outer frontier of Mesopotamia, but was girt by walls with salient and re-entrant angles and made difficult of access by manifold devices. But after resorting to every artifice, now tempting the defenders with promises, now threatening them with the cruelest punishments, sometimes preparing to build embankments and bringing up siege-engines, after suffering more losses than he inflicted, he at last gave up the vain attempt and departed.

    The failure of Šābuhr II against Virta was the only redeeming success for what had been otherwise an unmitigated disaster for Constantius II: of the outer ring of fortresses that had shielded Nisibis, now only Cepha, Virta and Castra Maurorum still remained in Roman hands, together with their associated sectors of limes, but all the rest (probably around a half or more of the total expanse) were now either destroyed of garrisoned by Sasanian troops. Now, the beleaguered Constantius II had to react, and quickly, in what remained of the campaign season, or else he risked the following year the loss of Nisibis and with it of almost all of Roman Mesopotamia. It’s also easy to imagine the damage that these defeats had on the public image of Constantius II within the empire, now that Julian had proclaimed himself as augustus in the West and showed no signs of wanting to return to the fold. If he wanted to keep the situation from spiraling out of control, both in the East against Šābuhr II and in the West against Julian, Constantius II needed to react fast and decisively.
     
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    8.6 THE ROMAN COUNTERATTACK OF 360 CE.
  • 8.6 THE ROMAN COUNTERATTACK OF 360 CE.


    The Sasanian summer campaigns of 359 and 360 CE had been a huge success; for the first time after decades of failed attempts Šābuhr II had managed to design and implement an offensive strategy that could realistically achieve his ultimate goal of recovering the Roman province of Mesopotamia. Instead of butting his head unfruitfully against the great fortified city of Nisibis, this time the Šahān Šāh chose a slower, indirect approach consisting of cracking open first the outer, more vulnerable ring of Roman border fortresses that shielded Nisibis from the south, east and north, and in two years he had destroyed two of these fortresses (Amida and Singara) and taken and garrisoned another one (Bezabde). Now, the Sasanian king could finally organize a proper attack against Nisibis without the constraints of time imposed by having major Roman garrisons on his back.

    Obviously, Constantius II and his ministers and generals were perfectly conscious that if they did not react in any way, the next year the Sasanian king would launch a direct attack against Nisibis and then the only way to stop him would be by risking an open battle on the flat plains of northern Mesopotamia, a terrain that historically had usually favored the cavalry-heavy Iranian armies. Of special significance in this context was the decision by Šābuhr II of installing a Sasanian garrison at Bezabde and repairing its walls. This fortress controlled one of the major crossing points across the Tigris, and so one of the major routes of invasion. Given that the Sasanian king had simply razed to the ground all the other captured Roman fortresses, this decision hinted at his intention of using Bezabde as the main launching point for next year’s campaign.

    The catastrophic outcome of the Sasanian invasion of 360 CE also presented another (and possibly, in Constantius II’s mind, more serious) danger: it damaged seriously the reputation of Constantius II as sole augustus of the Roman empire while his cousin Julian was leading a major rebellion in the West. And here lies the heart of the question, because the movements of Constantius II and his praesentalis army during the campaign of 360 CE depend on the chronology that we choose to follow, which is quite confused in Ammianus’ account. In turn, this is tied closely to Constantius II’s reactions to Julian’s moves and his crucial decision to prioritize the armed response against the Sasanians while trying to deal with his rebel cousin by political and diplomatic measures, a decision almost unparalleled in the history of the Roman empire. Where were Constantius II and his army while Šābuhr II took these two Roman fortresses?

    Constantinople-Golvin-02.jpg

    Constantinople was the main residence of Constantius II. View of the area occupied by the Hippodrome and the Great Palace, behind it, with terraced gardens that descended towards the Bosporus. Restitution by the architect and archaeologist Jean-Claude Golvin.

    In a long and convoluted narrative that I will not be posting here, Ammianus tells us that Constantius II spent the winter in Constantinople reinforcing his army, training it and gathering supplies and animals for a major campaign, while Julian consummated his usurpation in Gaul and sent envoys to his cousin to inform him officially of the fait accompli and that a solar eclipse happened in the East (together with a long and confused excursus about eclipses). Notice that in his account Ammianus seems to imply that all this happened while Constantius II was still in Constantinople.

    Ammianus doesn’t return to the details of Constantius II’s war against the Sasanians until this passage (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI, XX, 11.1-5):

    Such was the series of events in Gaul. While they were going on so successfully and so wisely, Constantius sent for Arsaces, king of Armenia, and after entertaining him with the greatest generosity forewarned and urged him to continue to be faithful and friendly to us. For he heard that he had often been worked upon by the Persian king with deception, with threats, and with guile, to induce him to give up his alliance with the Romans and involve himself in the Persian's designs. And the king, swearing with many an oath that he could sooner give up his life than his resolve, after receiving rewards returned to his kingdom with the retinue that he had brought with him; and after that he never dared to violate any of his promises, being bound to Constantius by many ties of gratitude, among which this was especially strong: that the emperor had given him to wife Olympias, daughter of Ablabius, a former praetorian prefect, and the betrothed of his brother Constans.
    After the king had been sent off from Cappadocia, Constantius going by way of Melitene (a town of Lesser Armenia), Lacotena, and Samosata, crossed the Euphrates and came to Edessa. There he lingered for a long time, while he was waiting for the troops of soldiers that were assembling from all sides and for plentiful supplies of provisions; after the autumnal equinox he set out on his way to Amida.
    When he came near the walls and surveyed only a heap of ashes, he wept and groaned aloud as he thought of the calamities the wretched city had endured. And Ursulus, the state-treasurer, who chanced to be there at the time, was filled with sorrow and cried: "Behold with what courage the cities are defended by our soldiers, for whose abundance of pay the wealth of the empire is already becoming insufficient." And this bitter remark the throng of soldiers recalled later at Chalcedon and conspired for his destruction.

    Securing his northern flank by ensuring the Armenian cooperation was a key precaution for Constantius II that shows once more that he was a sound strategist. And he did so with bribes or subsidies (that Ammianus diplomatically describes as “presents”. From Ammianus’ account, it can be surmised that Constantius II met the Armenian king in Cappadocia, where the Roman augustus had advanced with his army from Constantinople. The meeting could have taken place at Caesarea Mazaca, the provincial capital, or maybe in one of the legionary fortresses in the border. The former possibility seems to make sense considering that Julian’s letters reached Constantius II at Caesarea according to another passage of Ammianus, but the latter possibility also makes sense considering that the route that Constantius II took to reach Mesopotamia was not the usual one, via Tyana in Cappadocia, Tarsus in Cilicia and then Antioch in Syria. Instead, according to Ammianus he followed the upper course of the Euphrates via Melitene (modern Malatya in Turkey), Lacotena, and Samosata, and then crossed the Euphrates (there was a crossing point at Samosata) and reached Edessa which like in previous campaigns was to act as the Roman main base in this campaign.

    2019-11-17-ANOT.jpg

    Route of Constantius II’s army from Constantinople to Edessa (in red). I’ve underlined in yellow the main military road from the Bosporus to Antioch. Map from The Digital Atlas of the Roman Empire, by the University of Lund.

    Again, following Ammianus’ account, Constantius II seems to have remained for a long time in Edessa, and he only moved “after the autumn equinox”, that is on 21 September at the very earliest, which is quite late in the campaign season. And then he moved to the destroyed city of Amida in the upper course of the Tigris, which only makes sense if his intention from the start was to recover Bezabde. In other words: at this time, Šābuhr II had already concluded his destructive invasion and had been able to retreat back into Ērānšahr with impunity, while Constantius II reached Mesopotamia and remained in Edessa.

    The Roman army then marched directly from Amida to Edessa, following the course of the upper Tigris valley, and reached the city (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI, XX, 11.6-7):

    After this advancing in close order and coming to Bezabde, Constantius pitched his tents and encircled them with a palisade and with deeper trenches. Then, riding about the circuit of the fort at a distance, he learned from many sources that the parts which before had been weakened by age and neglect had been restored to greater strength than ever. And not wishing to leave anything undone that must be done before the heat of battle, he sent men of judgement and offered alternative conditions, urging the defenders of the walls either to give up the possessions of others without bloodshed and return to their own people, or to submit to the sway of Rome and receive increase of honors and rewards. And when with their native resolution they rejected these offers, being men of good birth and inured to perils and hardships, all the preparations for a siege were made.

    Constantius II inspected personally the state of the fortress and realized that not only had the Sasanian defenders repaired the breach caused by their siege ram, but they had also repaired any other weathered sections of the wall. In short: now the fortifications of Bezabde were even stronger than before the Sasanian conquest. As Constantius II was a seasoned warrior, upon seeing this he opened talks with the defenders, trying to arrange a negotiated surrender with them: either abandon the fortress and return to Ērānšahr unmolested or enter Roman service and be richly rewarded for it (in other words; he offered them bribes). Unsurprisingly, the defenders refused; as we will see, according to Ammianus’ account Šābuhr II dealt in an extremely harsh ways with traitors and their families. And considering the importance of Bezabde and the spirited defense that the garrison put up against the Roman siege, it’s evident that the Šahān Šāh left in there a garrison of elite troops, highly skilled and motivated.

    Sasanian-Spahbed-01.png

    British reenactor Nadeem Ahmad dressed in the full garb of a Sasanian Šahān Šāh or a high-ranking spāhbed. The battle axe was a personal combat weapon typical of eastern Iran and Central Asia, although it seems to have been less used in western Iran.

    The Romans then made their preparations and launched their assault, but as we will see in Ammianus’ account, the Romans fared no better than the Sasanians when assaulting a strong fortress with a determined and skilled garrison within it (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI, XX, 11.8-10):

    Then in close array and urged on by the trumpets the soldiers most vigorously attacked the town on every side, and with the legions gathered together into various tortoise formations and so advancing slowly and safely, they tried to undermine the fortifications; but since every sort of weapon was showered upon them as they came up, the connection of the shields was broken and they gave way, while the trumpets sounded the recall. Then, after a single day's truce, on the third day, with the soldiers more carefully protected and amid loud outcries everywhere, they attempted from every quarter to scale the walls; but although the defenders were hidden within behind hair-cloth stretched before them, in order that the enemy might not see them, yet whenever necessity required they would fearlessly thrust out their right arms and attack the besiegers with stones and weapons. But when the wicker mantlets went confidently on and were already close to the walls, great jars fell from above along with millstones and pieces of columns, by the excessive weight of which the assailants were overwhelmed; and since their devices for protection were rent asunder with great gaps, they made their escape with the greatest peril.

    It's almost as if we were reading the Sasanian sieges of Nisibis, Amida or Singara all over again. It’s interesting to see how, according to Ammianus’ description, the first tactic that the Roman soldiers employed was the classical testudo; clearly this formation had not gone out of fashion even if the Roman had long since abandoned the rectangular scutum in favor of lighter oval shield. In reliefs in Trajan’s Column in Rome more than two centuries earlier, legionaries can be seen doing exactly this while attacking a Dacian fort. It failed in face of what seems to have been a veritable deluge of projectiles from the Sasanian defenders, and when they tried to use wicket mantlets, the result was the same, as the defenders simply dropped heavier projectiles upon the attackers, tearing large gaps in the mantlets. What seems to me is that here the Romans pressed forward an improvised attack (probably due to the lateness of the season) to take to resolve things quickly, and they discovered the hard way that the Sasanians could defend a fortress as well as they did. So, the first three days of the assault ended in a Roman defeat, possibly with serious losses. Let’s see how the Romans renewed their assault (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI, XX, 11.11-15):

    Therefore on the tenth day after the beginning of the siege, when the waning hope of our men was causing general dejection, it was decided to bring into action a ram of great size, which the Persians, after formerly using it to raze Antioch, had brought back and left at Carrhae. The unlooked-for sight of this and the skillful manner in which it was put together would have daunted the besieged, who had already been almost reduced to seeking safety in surrender, had they not taken heart and prepared defenses against the menacing engine. And after this they lacked neither rash courage nor good judgement. For although the ram, which was old and had been taken apart for ready transportation, was being set up with all skill and every exertion of power, and was protected by the besiegers with a mantlet of great strength, yet the artillery and the showers of stones and sling-shots continued none the less to destroy great numbers on both sides. The massive mounds too were rising with rapid additions, the siege grew hotter every day, and many of our men fell for the reason that, fighting as they were under the emperor's eye, through the hope of rewards and wishing to be easily recognized they put off their helmets from their heads and so fell victims to the skill of the enemy's archers. After this, days and nights spent in wakefulness made both sides more cautious. The Persians, too, when the height of their mounds had already become great, stricken with horror at the huge ram, which other smaller ones followed, all strove with might and main to set fire to them, constantly hurling firebrands and blazing darts. But their efforts were vain, for the reason that the greater part of the timbers were covered with wetted hides and rags, while in other places they had been carefully coated with alum, so that the fire fell on them without effect. But these rams the Romans pushed forward with great courage, and although they had difficulty in protecting them, yet through their eagerness to take the town, they were led to scorn even imminent dangers. And on the other hand the defenders, when the huge ram was already drawing near to shake down a tower which stood in its way, by a subtle device entangled its projecting iron end (which in fact has the shape of a ram's head) on both sides with very long ropes, and held it so that it might not move back and gather new strength, nor be able with good aim to batter the walls with repeated lunges; and in the meantime they poured down scalding-hot pitch. And the engines which had been brought up stood for a long time exposed to the huge stones and to the missiles.

    The tides have turned here. Now it’s the Romans who have to resort to all sorts of elaborate siege techniques and absorb huge losses in their ranks while the defenders manage to counteract each and every one of their efforts. This is a long passage, that Ammianus managed to garble it considerably (either him or the scholars who have restored the text of the only mutilated manuscript that was rescued in the XV century and published in Florence), so careful reading is necessary. Also, some interesting bits of information appear in it.
    • First, that the Romans had to resort to an abandoned Sasanian siege ram in order to attack Bezabde. This seems to imply that, for all their preparations, the Romans had not brought with them equipment heavy enough for an all-out siege. Given the amount of time that Constantius II took to reach Mesopotamia, and then at Edessa, that’s quite surprising.
    • Second, that they resorted to an abandoned Sasanian ram, which suggest that at least in rams, the Sasanians had heavier equipment than the Romans. Obviously, this is the famous ram that Šābuhr I had used in the 250s against the walls of Antioch when he took the city a second time; 100 years later, it was again reassembled and brought to Bezabde from Carrhae (a heavy and time-consuming task in itself) to bring down the walls of this fortress.
    As Bezabde is located upon a steep hill, in order to allow heavy rams to approach the walls, the Romans needed to build huge ramps to allow the rams to be pushed next to the walls (the same that the Sasanians had done at Amida).

    Bezabde-01.jpg

    Remains of the walls of the (supposed) site of ancient Bezabde, near Cizre in southeastern Turkey. The river in the background is the Tigris.

    Following the standard practice of the time, the Romans protected this huge ram and other “smaller rams” so that the Sasanian incendiary devices could not set them on fire (like the Sasanians had done with their siege towers at Nisibis and Amida), but at the hour of truth, the defenders were able to use a “subtle device” with ropes that immobilized the head of the ram, while its crew lay exposed to a deluge of projectiles from the walls, Ammianus’ explanation is frustratingly vague, but in ancient and medieval times a common technique to counter rams was to grip its head with ropes or chains and then lift them upwards from the walls, rendering them useless. The siege now entered its bloodiest and most hardly fought period (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI, XX, 11.16-19):

    And now, when the mounds were raised still higher, the garrison, fearing that destruction would soon be upon them unless they should rouse themselves, resorted to utter recklessness. Making a sudden rush through the gates, they attacked the foremost of our men, with all their strength hurling upon the rams firebrands and baskets made of iron and filled with flames. But after fighting with shifting fortune the greater number were driven back from the walls without effecting anything. Then those same Persians, when they had taken their place on the bulwarks were assailed from the mounds, which the Romans had raised, with arrows, sling-shots, and fiery darts, which, however, though they flew through the coverings of the towers, for the most part fell without effect, since there were men at hand to put out the fires.
    And when the fighting men on both sides became fewer, and the Persians were driven to the last extremity unless some better plan should suggest itself, a carefully devised sally from the fortress was attempted. A vast throng made a sudden rush, with still greater numbers of men carrying material for setting fires drawn up among the armed soldiers; then iron baskets filled with flames and other things best suited for kindling fires. And because the pitch-black clouds of smoke made it impossible to see, the legions were roused to the fight by the clarion and in battle array advanced at rapid pace. Then, as their ardor for fighting gradually increased and they had come to hand-to‑hand conflict, on a sudden all the siege-engines were destroyed by the spreading flames, except the greater ram; this, after the ropes which had been thrown from the walls and entangled it had been broken, the valiant efforts of some brave men barely rescued in a half-burned condition.

    As usual with Ammianus, the text is full of dramatism; he was a soldier and had fought in similar engagements and knew well the dangers and fear to which the fighters were exposed in this sort of encounters. As we can see, the defenders did not hesitate to sally twice from the walls and engage the Roman legionaries in hand-to-hand combat. Let’s remember that this was Constantius II’s praesentalis army, the crème de la crème of the Roman mobile armies, so the fact that the Sasanian defenders were able, or even willing to come to grips with them is an indication that the Sasanians, or at least their elite forces, were perfectly able to fight in close fighting against the dreaded Roman infantry if necessary. Notice also that the Sasanians seem to have a considerable degree of familiarity with incendiary devices and employed such techniques with a considerable effectiveness against the Roman besiegers. As we will soon see, they kept using fire against the Romans during this siege with success. The second sally seems to have left the rams badly damaged, even the giant one, but the Roman army just redoubled its efforts against Bezabde. Clearly, Constantius II considered the control of Bezabde a vital matter (or he was desperate for a victory, given the political situation within the empire), and his army’s morale was high enough to endure it with its will to fight intact, a tribute to Constantius II’s thorough preparations and the respect his soldiers had for their augustus. Let’s continue to the next point in Ammianus’ tale (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI, XX, 11.20-23):

    But when the darkness of night put an end to the fighting, the rest which was allowed the soldiers was not for long. For after being refreshed with a little food and sleep, they were aroused at the call of their officers and moved the siege-engines to a distance from the wall, preparing to fight with greater ease on the lofty earthworks, which were now finished and overtopped the walls. And in order that those who would defend the ramparts might the more easily be kept back, on the very highest part of each mound two ballistae were placed, through fear of which it was believed that no one of the enemy would be able even to put out his head. When these preparations had been sufficiently made, just before dawn our men were drawn up in three divisions and tried an assault upon the walls, the cones of their helmets nodding in threatening wise and many carrying scaling-ladders. And now, while arms clashed and trumpets brayed, both sides fought with equal ardor and courage. And as the Romans extended their forces more widely and saw that the Persians were in hiding through fear of the engines placed upon the mounds, they attacked a tower with the ram; and in addition to mattocks, pickaxes, and crowbars the scaling-ladders also drew near, while missiles flew thick and fast from both sides. The Persians, however, were more sorely troubled by the various missiles sent from the ballistae, which as if along a tight rope rushed down the artificial slopes of the earthworks. Therefore, thinking that their fortunes were now at their lowest ebb, they rushed to meet certain death, and distributing the duties of their soldiers in the midst of their desperate crisis, they left some behind to hold the walls, while a strong force secretly opened a postern gate and rushed out, drawn sword in hand, followed by others who carried concealed fires. And while the Romans now pressed hard on those who gave way, and now met those who ventured to charge, the men who carried the fire-pans, stooping low and creeping along, pushed live coals into the joints of one of the mounds, which was built of the boughs of various kinds of trees, of rushes, and of bundles of cane. These, as soon as the dry fuel caught fire, at once burst into flame, and our soldiers only with extreme peril got away with their engines uninjured.

    Siege ramps could be built with earth (the surest but slower method) or with bundles of wood, as Ammianus says was the case here. And you can see what the risks were in this case: they were vulnerable to the incendiary attacks of the enemy. Once more, the Sasanians had made a huge gamble with a risky sally, and it had ended in success. After this, the siege petered out, as Constantius II decided to try to starve the garrison by hunger, which is quite puzzling given the lateness of the season (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI, XX, 11.24-32):

    But when the coming of evening put an end to the fighting, and both sides withdrew for a brief rest, the emperor, divided between various plans and pondering them (since pressing reasons urged a longer attempt to destroy Phaenicha, a fortress opposed as an almost unsurmountable barrier to the enemy's inroads; but the lateness of the season dissuaded him) finally decided to stay there, and to carry on light skirmishes, thinking that perhaps the Persians would yield through lack of supplies. But the result was not what he looked for. For when the fighting slackened, wet weather followed, dripping clouds with menacing darkness appeared, and the ground was so drenched with continual rains, that soft and sticky mud caused general trouble in that region of rich turf. And, besides all this, thunder and lightning with repeated crashes terrified the timorous minds of men.
    More than this, rainbows were constantly seen; and how that phenomenon is wont to occur, a brief explanation will show. (Note: Ammianus included here quite a long and absurd excursus that I’ve cut off; it’s typical of his writing style and many ancient authors to make sudden pointless digressions across their works)
    For these and similar reasons the emperor wavered between hope and fear, since the severity of winter was drawing near and attacks were to be looked for in that trackless region, while also he feared mutiny of the exasperated soldiers. Besides this, his anxious mind was tormented by the thought that when, so to speak, the door of a rich house was open before him, he was returning without success.
    Therefore, abandoning his fruitless attempt, he returned to Syria, purposing to winter in Antioch, having suffered severely and grievously; for the losses which the Persians had inflicted upon him were not slight but terrible and long to be lamented. For it had happened, as if some fateful constellation so controlled the several events, that when Constantius in person warred with the Persians, adverse fortune also attended him. Therefore, he wished to conquer at least through his generals, which, as we recall, did sometimes happen.

    In short: the last assaults were followed by the start of Fall rains and both fear of the discontent and mutiny among his troops if he carried on with the siege, and of the events happening in the West, forced him to lift the siege and retire back to Syria, where he set up his winter quarters in Antioch. The Roman siege of Bezabde had failed, and the road to Nisibis lay open for Šābuhr II.

    Solidus-Constantius-II-01.jpg

    Gold solidus of Constantius II. On the obverse, CONSTANTIVS AVG(ustus). On the reverse, GLORIA ROMANORVM. Mint of Antioch.
     
    8.7 THE DEATH OF CONSTANTIUS II AND THE PREPARATIONS AND PLANNING FOR JULIAN’S CAMPAIGN AGAINST ĒRĀNŠAHR.
  • 8.7 THE DEATH OF CONSTANTIUS II AND THE PREPARATIONS AND PLANNING FOR JULIAN’S CAMPAIGN AGAINST ĒRĀNŠAHR.


    After his failure against Bezabde, Constantius II found himself in an increasingly desperate situation. As soon as the weather conditions allowed for it, Šābuhr II would invade again, and this time with good chances of achieving his dreamed prize of Nisibis. But even more worryingly, in the West Julian launched that winter a swift campaign against Constantius II, ending the uneasy truce that had prevailed until then, with the intention of finishing Constantius II off now that he was weakened after his failure against Bezabde and two years of Sasanian successes.

    As usual, Ammianus narrative is convoluted and the chronology is unclear, but it seems that Constantius II had foreseen this, for he dispatched his trusted official Florentius (who had fled from Gaul) as Praetorian Prefect for Illyricum, and together with Taurus (the Praetorian Prefect for Italy) was appointed consul for the year 361CE, in a clear attempt to secure the loyalty of both men and reward them for past services. He also dispatched his secretary Gaudentius to Africa in order to secure it against any attempts of invasion from Gaul or Hispania.

    The beleaguered augustus though still had to deal with one last threat from the East. While he was in Antioch preparing to march against Julian, he received news that Šābuhr II had massed his army and was approaching the passes of the Tigris. Constantius II reacted in the same way, recalling his scattered forces that had wintered across Syria and gathering them at Antioch. From here, he crossed the Euphrates at Capersana (slightly north of Zeugma) and marched to his usual operations base at Edessa, where he encamped his army and waited for Šābuhr II’s actions.

    But then, instead of crossing the Tigris and invade, Šābuhr II remained in the eastern bank of the river, playing a waiting game with his rival. He was probably aware that due to Julian’s rebellion Constantius II could not remain inactive for long, so time played in the Šahān Šāh’s favor (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXXI, XXI, 13.1-5):

    While by these and similar means Julian, wavering between hope and fear, was planning new measures, Constantius at Edessa, troubled by the varying reports of his scouts, was hesitating between two different courses, now preparing his soldiers for battle in the field, now, if opportunity should offer, planning a second siege of Bezabde, with the prudent design of not leaving the flank of Mesopotamia unprotected when he was presently about to march to the north. But in this state of indecision he was kept back by many delays, since the Persian king was waiting on the other side of the Tigris until the signs from heaven should warrant a move; for if Sapor had crossed the river and found no one to oppose him, he could easily have penetrated to the Euphrates; besides this, since he was keeping his soldiers in condition for civil war, he feared to expose them to the dangers of an attack upon a walled city, knowing by experience the strength of its fortifications and the energy of its defenders.
    However, in order not to be wholly inactive, nor be criticized for slackness, he ordered Arbitio and Agilo, commanders of the cavalry and of the infantry, to sally forth promptly with strong forces, not with a view of provoking the Persians to battle, but to draw a cordon on our bank of the Tigris and be on the watch to see where the impetuous king might break through. Moreover, he often warned them by word of mouth and in writing that if the enemy's horde should begin to cross, they were to retreat quickly. Now, while these generals were guarding the frontiers assigned them, and the hidden purposes of that most deceitful nation were being observed, he himself with the stronger part of his army was attending to urgent affairs (getting ready for battle) and now and then sallying forth to protect the towns. But the scouts and deserters who appeared from time to time brought conflicting accounts, being uncertain what would happen, because among the Persians plans are communicated to none save the grandees, who are reticent and loyal, and with whom among their other gods Silence is honored. Moreover, the aforesaid generals kept sending for the emperor and begging that reinforcements be sent to them. For they declared that the attack of a most energetic king could not be met, unless all the forces were united at one point.

    But while Constantius II was encamped in Edessa waiting for Šābuhr II’s next move, events in the West took a frankly alarming turn for him: Julian invaded Illyricum and the local troops either were defeated or joined his side. The consuls and praetorian prefects of Illyricum and Italy Florentius and Taurus fled to the West and Italy also fell in Julian’s hands except for the strategic city of Aquileia, which remained loyal to Constantius II. Julian entered Sirmium and then proceeded directly against Constantinople. Upon knowing this, Constantius II abandoned Mesopotamia and recalled his advanced troops, gathering the whole army at Nicopolis (location unknown, probably in Syria or western Mesopotamia) where he addressed his troops telling them he would be marching now against the usurper.

    From there the army marched to Antioch, where it took the main military road across Anatolia to the Bosporus. While on the march, and after several omens (according to Ammianus), Constantius II died at Mobsucrenae in Cilicia at the foot of the Taurus mountains on October 5, 361 CE (Julian calendar) after a short illness. At this point, Constantius II’s death was a godsend for the Romans, as it avoided yet another bloody and destructive civil war and left Julian as the sole uncontested augustus of the Roman empire, as he was the sole male heir of Constantine I alive and in the five previous years had managed to gather enough personal military prestige with his campaigns against the Franks and Alamanni to be accepted by the army.

    After receiving the news of his cousin’s death, Julian advanced directly on Constantinople, which opened its gates to him. Julian entered the city of the Bosporus in triumph on December 11 361 CE (Julian calendar). A thorough purge of Constantius II’s loyalists in the civilian and military structures followed swiftly, with plenty of executions and exiles.

    Julian was a very different character from his cousin. He had been brought up in isolation and constantly fearing for his life, at the whim of Constantius II. Because of this, he’d turned to books and had become a very well-read young man, with an extensive knowledge of philosophy and history. And it’s from history books that he drew most of his inspiration for his campaigns, in the texts of Thucydides, Herodotus, Plutarch, Livius, Caesar, Arrian, etc. His service in Gaul gave him what he lacked: real experience with commanding an army in campaign. And here he showed that even when confronted with the harsh realities of war, he was still willing to emulate what he considered was the “proper way” of waging war, the one that had brought success and glory to Alexander the Great and the great Roman conquerors of old, through unrelenting offensive warfare.

    antioch-RIC-201-1.jpg

    Gold solidus of Julian. On the obverse: FL(avius) CL(audius) IVLIANVS P(ius) F(elix) AUG(ustus). On the reverse: VIRTVS EXERCITVS ROMANORVM (“The ‘virtus’ of the army of the Romans”). Mint of Antioch.

    In support of his plans of launching a large-scale invasion of the Sasanian empire following the steps of Trajan or Septimius Severus, he could argue that the defensive strategy conducted for the last twenty-five years by Constantius II had not stopped Šābuhr II’s attacks; on the contrary, the defensive system carefully designed and built by Diocletian in Mesopotamia had been finally breached, and the province was in serious risk of being lost, while it’s very possible that after the loss of Amida, Singara and Bezabde the satrapies beyond the Tigris (Regiones Transtigritanae) that the Treaty of Nisibis had ceded to Rome had already been lost by that time.

    And Julian wasted no time in organizing and launching his Expeditio Persica: he invaded Ērānšahr in March 363 CE, just eighteen months after becoming sole augustus of the Roman empire. It was a propitious moment for such an enterprise, as the European borders of the empire were secure after Julian and Constantius II’s strenuous efforts, while the Goths kept themselves loyal to their agreement with the House of Constantine and now as sole Roman augustus Julian could bring the full might of Rome against the Sasanians. This invasion has a special place in history because it was the last full-scale invasion of Ērānšahr by a Roman army until Heraclius’ one in the VII century CE, and the last one launched by a united Roman empire.

    John Harrel points out that Julian had enjoyed success in Gaul with a policy of confrontation, pursuit, and devastation against the Germanic confederations, while the twenty-five years of war had possibly convinced Julian that a decisive victory could not be achieved in the Northern Mesopotamian or Armenian theatres of war. Campaigning in these fortified zones resulted in costly, fruitless sieges and indecisive battles. Continuing with his argument, Harrel also points out that as evidenced by Constantius II’ protracted defensive stance, Julian was possibly also well aware that winning defensive battles did not lead to victory but, rather, a long war of attrition, and that as a scholar versed in classical history, Julian would have studied earlier attacks on the city of Ctesiphon and would have been well aware of the manpower and logistics requirements for such an endeavor. He would also have known that prior augusti had achieved victory by achieving two objectives: taking Ctesiphon and defeating any Arsacid or Sasanian army that tried to intervene. But according to Harrel, Julian seems to have had a third objective, one that had eluded all previous successful Roman leaders fighting the Iranian empires. To obtain a decisive victory, Julian had to break into the Iranian Plateau and/or replace Šābuhr II with a client king.

    Harrel continues by saying that while Julian’s intent to lead the attack against the Sasanian empire was understood by his contemporaries, his strategic goals were unclear. The sources disagree as to whether Julian’s intended operation was a larger version of his Gallic campaigns, which were actually raids across the Rhine against the Frankish and Alamannic tribes, or a serious attempt to overthrow Šābuhr II and subjugate Ērānšahr to Rome. In the V century CE, the Christian chronicler Socrates of Constantinople suggested that Julian actually believed he was Alexander reincarnated, destined to extend the empire to India. Harrel thinks that the fact that the Sasanian prince Hormazd was one of Julian’s commanders means that the option of replacing Šābuhr II, as Constantine the Great had planned in 337 CE, was seen as a viable course of action. There is a reference to Hormazd in a letter from Libanius implying that Julian planned to put the exiled prince on the Sasanian throne. So, according to Harrel, despite the wild claims of his Christian enemies, Julian had an achievable goal to end the war and that was to turn the western part of the Sasanian empire into a client kingdom under prince Hormazd, which for Harrel would have caused the wuzurgān to revolt and torn the eastern kingdom apart, thus destroying the Sasanian empire.

    Continuing his analysis, Harrel points out that in June 363 CE Julian’s army marched north to the Diyala (Douros in Greek) River, which would have allowed him an access route to advance toward the Persian heartland. The main Silk Road followed the Diyala River onto the Iranian Plateau and, by June, the passes in the Zagros Mountains should have been passable. This was the axis of advance that Muslim armies followed to break onto the Iranian Plateau and destroy the Sasanian empire in the VII century CE. And to Harrel, it’s no surprise that after Julian’s arrival at this strategic avenue of approach into the Iranian heartland, on or about 17 June 363 CE, the Sasanian and Roman main armies clashed on the banks of the Diyala River.

    diyala-basin-e1468169098243.jpg

    The Tigris River Basin. The Diyala River is the longest of its tributaries (445 km) and along history it has been the main land route between the Mesopotamian plain and the Iranian Plateau. It joins the Tigris very near the conurbation of Ctesiphon, and also very near the modern city of Baghdad.

    I’ll keep on following Harrel’s detailed analysis of the campaign and Julian’s preparations and alleged objectives here. According to Harrel, whatever his strategic goals may have been, Julian’s operational plan was very similar to Constantine I’s plan in 337 CE. Two armies would attack along separate axes, each initially threatening a key Sasanian region and eventually converging on the enemy capital: Ctesiphon. His forces would then mass and capture the Sasanian capital. This opening phase would have led to the defeat in battle of the main Sasanian army commanded by the Šahān Šāh, and then the second phase would start with the Roman army breaking onto the Iranian Plateau, and ultimately replacing Šābuhr II. It was assumed that Julian’s Praesentalis Army alone or massed together with the secondary invasion army (that Harrel identifies with the field army of the East) would have a reasonable chance of defeating the Šābuhr II’s main army in open battle. The main effort, under Julian, would attack directly down the Euphrates River towards Ctesiphon. The supporting attack would cross the Tigris River, march through the Regiones Transtigritanae, re-establish Roman rule and alliances in them and then move into Ērānšahr proper, marching along the east bank of the Tigris, and south toward Ctesiphon.

    Harrel then moves on to make an educated guess about the size and composition of Julian’s invasion forces. The composition and size of Julian’s Praesentalis Army is unclear. Zosimus was the only historian to reference the size of the army noting that when Julian reviewed the army in March 363 CE it mustered 65,000. Gibbon accepted this figure and added the field army of the East’s 20,000 to 30,000 men to the force for a total of between 85,000 and 95,000 soldiers committed to the invasion. A number of historians subtract the forces of the field army of the East from Zosimus’ 65,000, reducing the Praesentalis Army to between 30,000 and 45,000, depending on which source they follow for the size of the field Army of the East. If these numbers were accurate, Julian’s army would have numbered between 35,000 and 47,000 in strength and would have been insufficient to accomplish the campaign objectives. As Harrel points out, the problem with this small figure for the praesentalis army is that most historians overlook the fact that 20,000 men from Julian’s army were engaged in manning and providing security for the supporting fleet, which would have left only 15,000 to 27,000 men for land operations.

    Harrel carries on with his analysis by stating that, assuming Vegetius’ ratio of one horseman to four infantrymen, the 65,000-man Praesentalis Army would have contained 13,000 cavalrymen and 52,000 infantrymen. The infantry consisted of Roman legions from Gaul, the Balkans, and the East, as well as auxilia units of “Gauls” and Germans from the Rhine River valley. The core of Julian’s infantry was his loyal auxilia from the Army of Gaul who had declared him augustus. Of the fourteen infantry units named by the sources, eight units were auxilia regiments from Gaul, four were elite legions (two from Gaul), one legio comitatense from an unknown home region (possibly Thrace), and one limitanei legion from the East.


    Harrel follows by pointing out that Julian’s cavalry consisted of regular Roman units supported by Goth and Saracen foederati, Armenian allies, and Iranians who had changed sides. Ammianus follows the Graeco-Roman literary convention of referring to the Goths as “Scythians”, which has been the cause of so much confusion. The only regular cavalry units named by the sources are the Promoti and Tertaci with the guard units Scutarii and Protectores Domestici. The exiled Sasanian prince Hormazd would have had a contingent of followers at least as a bodyguard if not a full cavalry unit. The Armenian general Zawray commanded 7,000 Armenian horsemen and Harrel guesses that he was probably present at the initial March 363 CE mustering of the invasion force.

    The next point touched by Harrel is the logistics of the campaign, pointing that Ammianus provides some details about the logistics build-up for the invasion but little analysis about the overall logistics plan for the invasion. According to this author, the cities of Roman Mesopotamia were transformed into massive supply depots. He also writes that a large fleet of over 1,000 supply boats and barges was built to support the main effort down the Euphrates River. These boats and barges carried the army’s siege train, replacement weapons, and armor, but most of them were loaded with the expedition’s rations. While vast quantities of sour wine and other foodstuffs were carried, the majority of the weight would have been grain, of which a large percentage would’ve been baked into biscuits for the army’s rations thus reducing the amount of wood needed for the campaign. Fifty war ships protected the fleet and fifty pontoon boats were also included to build bridges, which as we will see would be very necessary in this campaign.

    Northern-Mesopotamia-map.jpg

    Map of Northern Mesopotamia in Late Antiquity. The border between Rome and Ērānšahr on the Euphrates stood at Circesium. From there it followed the course of the Khabur river in a northeastern direction and the continued directly east along the Jebel Sinjar and reached the Tigris River to the north of Nineveh (very near modern Mosul).

    Following Ammianus’ account, Harrel points out that on land the army was supported by a massive baggage train that, while not mentioned by the sources, must have included a large herd of horses for cavalry remounts and cattle for rations. Mules were required to carry a contubernium’s daily camping equipment (tents, cooking utensils, entrenching tools, rations, etc.). It took 1,200 mules to support 5.000 men which could have been replaced by 350 ox wagons; 50,000 infantrymen would have required 12,000 mules or 3,500 wagons (pulled by 7,000 oxen). Light artillery and other equipment and supplies needed to establish a camp would have required wagons. According to Harrel, the exact number is impossible to calculate, but the supply train for an army of 60,000 would have been “massive”.

    And most importantly, Harrel also points out that the water requirements for this force dictated the Romans’ axis of advance and confined it to rivers or major canals. In the temperate climate of Europe, 2 liters of water per person were required per day. Cavalry mounts and pack animals required approximately 15 to 20 liters of water per day. Spring and summer operations in Mesopotamia doubled that requirement. So, according to Harrel, the daily water requirement for 60,000 men would have been 120,000 liters, and water for the army’s animals exceeded 600,000 liters. There was no way that the army could transport even one day’s water rations, and the location of a campsite with an adequate water source was a primary task for the Roman scouts and outriders. Harrel states that moving this massive force was difficult and that while well organized, the Romans “set no speed records”. When compared to march rates of early industrial armies the Romans made comparable daily marches. Both forces, centuries apart, averaged 20 km/day.

    As for Julian’s strategy, for Harrel it seems clear from Julian’s march down river that he did not plan to use the Euphrates as a supply line or even as a line of communication. He started the advance south in March 363 CE, three months before June harvest (in the area of Ctesiphon), and he bypassed key Sasanian fortresses guarding the Euphrates. These fortresses were no direct threat to his army but were a significant threat to any river traffic between the last major Roman fortress on the Euphrates (Circesium) and Julian’s army. For Harrel, these facts indicate that Julian intended to feed his army during its march southwards from the supplies on his riverboats supplemented from stores captured on the way to Ctesiphon, and that once it reached the enemy capital, the Roman army’s primary source of supply would be the region’s June harvest.

    Harrel states that this deployment put Šābuhr II in a strategic dilemma. Until the Praesentalis Army marched south of Circesium, it posed a double menace for the Sasanian monarch: should he protect the Iranian Plateau (where the military heart of the empire was located) or Ctesiphon and with it the provinces of Āsūrestān and Xūzestān (which provided the Sasanian crown with the lion’s share of its income). Until Julian marched south of Circesium, there was the possibility that he could have turned east along the Singara road directly to the Zagros passes into the Iranian homeland. But it would also have been novel (and very un-Roman, which for a devoted scholar of Roman history like Julian would’ve been completely out of character) if the Romans had marched onto the Iranian Plateau without first sacking Ctesiphon. Yet the Romans striking directly onto the Iranian Plateau would’ve been the most dangerous course of action. The only ancient source indicating Šābuhr II’s location in March 363 is Magnus of Carrhae, who placed the main Sasanian army in “Persian Armenia” and not near Ctesiphon (more about this later). Harrel thinks that Šābuhr II, who by now was a mature general, probably chose to place himself and his main army in a central position from which he could defend Bezabde and block the northern route onto the Iranian Plateau, or march southwards to support the garrison of Ctesiphon.

    Harrel gives a number for Šābuhr II’s army at the start of the campaign of 40,000 men. He doesn’t elaborate on the reason for this estimate, although I’d guess that he bases it on two points:

    • Šābuhr II’s army did not engage Julian’s army until the latter had reached Ctesiphon and it was more or less forced to give battle. And even then, the Romans prevailed despite the fact they had to cross a major water course to attack the Sasanian army; nevertheless, the latter was able to put up a spirited fight for almost a whole day and retreat in order after the battle. This could indicate that the army of the Šahān Šāh was smaller than the Roman one, but not so small as to turn any fight into a sure defeat for the Sasanians. Also, if the force of the Roman secondary invasion army was of 40,000 men, it must have been tailored to be a match to Šābuhr II’s army.
    • Julian attacked very early in the campaign season, in March. And this was probably deliberate on his part, because a substantial part of Šābuhr II’s army was formed by “feudal” levies from the Iranian Plateau (the private armies of the wuzurgān) and from contingents sent by his vassals and allies in Central Asia, Eastern Iran and India (like the armies of his brother Šābuhr Sakān Šāh and the ones of Bahrām Kušān Šāh, the possible “puppet king” of the Chionites in Ṭoḵārestān). These armies would take time to mobilize and travel the huge distances across the empire, which also involved crossing one or various mountain ranges. As for the range that all of them would need to cross, all the passes down to the Diyala Pass (that led directly from Hamadan to Ctesiphon) were blocked by snow until June, although the southern passes between Pārs and Xūzestān were passable, this increased considerably the length of the travel. In practice, this meant that by attacking early in March, Julian had numerical superiority guaranteed for three months. Here, the continued advantage of Rome’s professional army was fully exploited by the young augustus.

    640px-Iraq-A2003060-0750-500m.jpg

    Satellite view of Mesopotamia in winter, with the Zagros Mountains and the highlands of the Iranian Plateau covered in snow.

    Thus, in the absence of the armies of the Iranian magnates and his vassals and allies the Sasanian field army was smaller Julian’s and would have been formed by the professional forces that Šābuhr II paid directly from the Treasury with the income of the royal estates, tribute from vassals and the taxes he was able to levy across the empire (essentially on trade). it would have included among other contingents the elite forces of the royal guard and the royal corps of elephants. But apart from the field army of the Šahān Šāh, there were other Sasanian forces present in Mesopotamia in March 363 CE. Ancient sources (like Ammianus himself) describe many fortresses and fortified towns and cities dotting the land, all of them well garrisoned with royal troops, which would have been professional forces paid for by the king, with the main concentration happening in the great conurbation of Ctesiphon, where several large fortified cities stood very near to each other (of which Ctesiphon and Vēh-Ardaxšir were the most prominent).

    In addition to that, other sources like the Babylonian Talmud and Christian Syriac texts state that the citizens of large cities were also obliged by law to organize and arm themselves as militias to defend their cities in case of attack (the people responsible for this where the richest and most prominent members of the community: the richest merchants, the heads of religious communities, etc.). Although these militias were only useful when defending fortifications and by law they could not be forced to fight outside their cities, they nevertheless alleviated a lot of pressure from the defensive role of the royal army, whose effectives would have been stretched thin in order to cover the very dense network of fortresses and fortified cities in Mesopotamia.

    IMG-1676o.jpg

    Upper valley of the Diyala/Sirwan River in Iranian Kurdistan.

    Despite his youth, Julian was a staunch traditionalist in every way, and so he followed the old and beloved Roman custom of appointing two commanders for the Army of the East. He put it under the joint command of two people who couldn’t be more different in character and experience. The first one was his cousin on the maternal side Procopius, who (according to Ammianus) must have been then 37 years old and completely inexperienced in military matters (he’d been a civil servant and diplomat, and he’d been a member of the embassy that Constantius II sent to the Sasanian court in 358 CE). His only qualification for the post must have been then (according to Harrel) that he was loyal to Julian. The other commander was a very different character: Sebastianus, who had been Dux Aegypti under Constantius II, and who had been now raised to the rank of comes. Sebastianus is described by Ammianus as a “young man”, which for the Romans meant he was under 30; he also seems to have been a man without powerful patrons, and if at that age he had managed to reach such an important rank that means he must’ve been a very competent military leader to escalate the command ladder so quickly, without family connection and under such an experienced military commander as Constantius II had been (and indeed, later Valentinian I and Valens continued to appoint him for important commands). It seems quite clear that these two characters didn’t mix well, and indeed the performance of the Army of the East during this campaign was quite lackluster, as it failed to attain all of the goals that Julian had assigned to it. Quite obviously, either Julian didn’t trust Sebastianus and appointed his cousin Procopius as joint commander to ensure his loyalty or wanted to ensure that in case of success the imperial house could claim the credit for it, or both. To Harrel’s opinion, I would add that another reason for this strange appointment could have been Procopius’ diplomatic credentials, as the Army of the East was expected to collaborate and join forces with the army of king Arshak II of Armenia, and this kingdom, previously a staunch Roman ally, had been acting in an increasingly detached way under Šābuhr II’s relentless pressure.

    efg7supla35z.jpg

    The kingdom of Armenia in the IV century CE found itself in an increasingly precarious position sandwiched between two powerful empires that fought to assert their control over it. The consequence was a progressive weakening of the kingdom, as its unruly nobility became divided in pro-Roman and pro-Sassanian parties, which meant that Armenia spent most of the time either in civil war or fighting foreign invasions. To the southwest, marked in close green/red stripes, the satrapies ceded to Rome in the First Treaty of Nisibis in 299 CE. But this was only the beginning of the territorial disintegration of the kingdom: during the second half of the IV century it was forced to cede chunks of territory to Rome, Ērānšahr and even to its northern neighbors the kingdoms of Iberia and Albania.

    As noted above, the location of Šābuhr II’s main army is stated only in one of the surviving passages of Magnus of Carrhae (who’d been an officer in the Roman army and had taken part in the campaign):

    King [Šābuhr II], thinking Julian…was coming via [Nisibis], hastened against him with his whole force. Then he was informed that Julian…was behind him…and a large [Roman] force was coming against him from the front; realizing he was in the middle, he fled to [Persian Armenia].

    Harrel speculates that the assembly area for Šābuhr II’s army at the start of the 363 CE campaign remains unidentified but, based upon the timing of its appearance in the vicinity of Ctesiphon in June, it must have been in the vicinity of the junction of the Tigris and the Greater Zab rivers. This assembly area would have covered the Diyala Pass, the main pass across the Zagros, and it would have been near “Persian Armenia” and near Nineveh, thus covering also Bezabde and the southernmost of the Regiones Transtigritanae. Harrel quotes the above passage by Magnus of Carrhae in support of his hypothesis; according to it, Šābuhr II would’ve been surprised by the appearance of two Roman campaign armies, which is debatable (it would’ve been impossible to hide such preparations from the considerable (and well documented) network of spies that the Sasanians kept in the Roman East.

    What’s more credible though is that he was surprised by the early date at which the Romans began the invasion. It’s possible that the Šahān Šāh first adopted a passive stance behind the Tigris, in order to prevent its crossing by the Army of the East in order to reach the Zagros passes, or any attack against Bezabde (both options would have become a dangerous possibility if king Arshak II of Armenia joined his army with the Roman force led by Procopius and Sebastianus). Šābuhr II would have later abandoned it in favor of moving south to cover Ctesiphon from Julian’s advance. To Harrel it seems clear however, that the Sasanian king declined to cross the Tigris to engage the Army of the East and while he waited further developments and later began moving south towards Ctesiphon along the eastern bank of the Tigris he and left the opposition of Julian’s advance to his general, Surena, and his small border cavalry army.

    Ammianus names this general as “the Surena”, and there’s some controversy around this name. For some scholars (a minority, and no Iranologists amongst them), this was an official title, the second after the king. But the majority view sees in this person a nobleman, the head of the Sūrēn Pahlav family, the oldest and most prestigious family of the wuzurgān. In times of the Arsacids, the head of the House of Sūrēn held the hereditary title of Aspbed (“Commander of the Horse”), which was the highest commanding rank in the army, second only to the king. A certain Pērōz the Aspbed still appears at the ŠKZ under Šābuhr I, but this title disappears from the records afterwards. Still, many scholars are tempted to see in this “Surena” who acted as an independent commander of a large cavalry force (Harrel makes a guess for its strength between 3,000 and 5,000 cavalrymen) in such a key mission as covering Ctesiphon from the advance of the main Roman army and delaying it as much as possible, no other that the Aspbed of Ērānšahr, who must have been the head of the House of Sūrēn at the time.

    This force though was not formed exclusively by Iranian warriors. Ammianus wrote that it was also formed by a force of Arabs under the command of (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXXI, XXIV, 2.13):

    (…) the Malechus, Podosaces by name, phylarch of the Assanitic Saracens.

    Many scholars see in the ethnonym “Assanitic” a Latin corruption or maybe an early attestation of the Ghassanid Arab tribal confederation that would later become a long-standing ally of the Romans. “Phylarch” was a Greek title that the Roman authorities bestowed on Arab chieftains that they recognized as powerful enough to promote and keep diplomatic relations with. As for “Malechus”, there’s two disputed possibilities. One is that “Malechus” is the Latin corruption of the Arabic “Malik”, meaning “King”. Thus, he would have been “King Podosaces”. But some scholars don’t agree with this, noting that Ammianus wrote “Podosaces” in the genitive case, and so the correct translation should be “Malik, son of Podosaces”. This translation is also possible, as “Malik” has also been used as a male name in Arabic across centuries. Podosaces is the most difficult part of the name. Irfan Shahîd proposed that it could be a Latinization (via Greek) of the Arabic Fadawkas (meaning “little fox”), or perhaps a corruption of the Middle Persian title Bidaxš.
     
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    8.8 THE MARCH OF JULIAN’S ARMY TO CTESIPHON (363 CE).
  • 8.8 THE MARCH OF JULIAN’S ARMY TO CTESIPHON (363 CE).

    Julian’s eastern campaign is probably the best documented war amongst all the armed conflicts between Romans and Sasanians. Apart from Ammianus’ account (which, as we will see, is not entirely accurate) there’s also plenty of information to be found in other sources: Libanius (who was a personal friend of Julian), Zosimus, fragments of the lost chronicle of Magnus of Carrhae (who, like Ammianus, took part personally in the expedition), together with minor apports from other authors, mainly Christian ones (generally hostile to Julian).

    Despite all this wealth of testimonies, there’s some important gaps. First of all, obviously, the lack of Iranian sources. Clearly, Šābuhr II’s victory over Julian made a lasting impression, because it’s echoed in two very late works: those by Ferdowsī and Tabarī. But, as they are removed more than six hundred years from the events, and through unclear chains of transmission (perhaps even oral history), theirs reports are completely inaccurate and full of fantastic details; in the case of Ferdowsī, he even conflates the characters of Šābuhr I and Šābuhr II and narrates Valerian’s capture and defeat and Julian’s defeat and death as a single, continuous conflict.

    Although the general assessment of Julian’s campaign is clear to modern scholars (a Roman disaster, or at least a very heavy defeat), there are serious differences amongst them about what were Julian’s strategic objectives and also about the design of the Sasanian strategy of defense. As in previous chapters, in the analysis I follow mostly the works of John Harrel and Ilkka Syvänne, but in order to reconstruct the chronologic and geographical frame I’m going to follow the seminal work about the Roman-Sasanian wars: The Roman Eastern Frontier and the Persian Wars (AD226–363): A Documentary History by Michael H. Dodgeon & Samuel N.C. Lieu, in which they reconstruct the chronology of the invasion and provide the modern equivalents for the places mentioned by Ammianus. In this work, the reconstruction is mainly based on Ammianus (the main source, as he was a soldier who took part personally in the expedition) but also on the sources I mentioned above:
    • Libanius, who was also a contemporary of the events and a personal friend of Julian. He was also a pagan like Ammianus and a staunch supporter of Julian. Ammianus as a whole, though a pagan and an admirer of Julian, was not overly anti-Christian or overtly supportive of Julian’s internal policies as Libanius was, but this increased impartiality is overshadowed by two facts: Libanius writings are closer in time to the events than Ammianus’ ones (his work was probably published in Rome only in 391 CE at the earliest) and Libanius was a much better writer, had a superior education and a higher social status than Ammianus, meaning that he could have had access to better sources.
    • Zosimus, who wrote in Constantinople during the late V century CE (or very early VI century CE). He was a pagan and ardently anti-Christian and the part of his work that covers Julian’s campaign is based on the work of another pagan (and anti-Christian) historian, Eunapius of Sardes, who wrote during the late IV century CE or early V century CE, and was thus reasonably close to the events.
    • Fragments of the lost history of Magnus of Carrhae, who is supposed by scholars to have been also an officer in Julian’s expedition (a similar case to Ammianus).
    • And finally, fragments in a scattering of (generally extremely hostile to Julian) Christian authors. Despite the obvious bias of their authors, they can be useful when contrasted to the sources listed above.
    Although Julian’s expedition is extremely well covered in the ancient sources (a rare luxury), there are important disagreements between them, and in some cases it’s been proven that Ammianus’ account is wrong; whether deliberately or because of the distance between the events and the time when Ammianus put them in writing. I will try to explain and mention the discrepancies between them when pertinent. In the adequate parts of the narrative I will also mention the takes and analysis by Harrel and Syvänne about the events and decisions taken by commanders on both sides.

    Syvänne as usual, is quite unorthodox in his views and focuses on the whole political aspects of Julian’s reign, while Harrel restricts himself mostly to military events. Syvänne underlines that Julian’s political position was anything but secure, and that the nine months delay in launching the campaign was probably due to the necessity to consolidate minimally his hold on power and to conduct a purge of Constantius II’s loyalists in the army and the administration. He also points out that Julian’s anti-Christian policies must’ve caused considerable turmoil, as according to both Christian (Gregory of Nazianzus) and pagan (Libanius) authors most soldiers in the eastern armies were Christian by then. And on top of that, his winter stay in Antioch was a difficult one; as the behavior of the troops and of Julian himself (something that’s condemned even by Ammianus) did not endear him to the populace and probably did nothing to endear him to the army (as Antiochenes began to openly mock him in the streets and public events).

    They also disagree from the start about the role to be performed by the northern army led by Procopius and Sebastianus. To Syvänne, it’s clear that their army had not enough men to be able to lead independent action against Ērānšahr, and that only if it reunited with the Armenian army led by king Aršak could it pose a real menace. But according to Syvänne it was Julian who actually prevented this from happening; as Aršak’s army would’ve been larger than the Roman one, he would’ve been expected to command the invasion, something that (to Syvänne) would’ve been unacceptable to Julian. According Syvänne’s reading of the ancient sources, the purpose of these northern forces was to lead a secondary invasion of the Sasanian empire, with the Nisaean Plain around Ecbatana (modern Hamadān) in Media as their final objective; one of the richest parts of the western part of the Iranian Plateau, but the division of command imposed by Julian, his unclear orders and his refusal to allow the Armenian king to command the Roman force meant that the Roman army of Procopius and Sebastianus did absolutely nothing during the campaign, while king Aršak’s incursion achieved success and reached deep into Sasanian territory once Šābuhr II’s main army headed towards the south.

    The-Nisaean-plain-surrounding-Ecbatana-modern-Hamadan.jpg

    The Nisaean Plain, near ancient Ecbatana (modern Hamadān, in Iran).

    Julian left Antioch and headed to Hierapolis (modern Manbij, in Syria) via Litarbae (-el Athareb, Syria- 5 March) and Beroea (-Aleppo, Syria- 6 March). According to Ammianus (XXIII, 2, 6) a colonnade collapsed at Hierapolis (where arrived on March 9) and killed fifty soldiers of the army. Ammianus’ account (who was a direct eyewitness) of the campaign is peppered with such “ominous” events. Most scholars think that this is merely a literary device common in ancient pagan writers: with the benefit of hindsight, they interpreted such events (and in some cases even invented them outright) as “omens” from the pagan gods, which was a firmly held belief in classical pagan religion (Ammianus was pagan himself, and he wrote his work when he was retired in Rome, and his public would have the still mostly pagan senatorial upper class of the Urbs). But Syvänne, who as usual is rather unorthodox here (and who has a rather pointed dislike for “classicists”) choses to see in this events and in others that followed it something more “sinister”: that possibly there was, from the start of the campaign, an ongoing plot against Julian’s life, either from disaffected Christians or from loyalists of Constantius II who couldn’t accept the way Julian had seized power. This is something impossible to ascertain. Ammianus himself says nothing of the sort and doesn’t even hint at it. He was a pagan, and a fervent admirer of Julian since the time he served under his command in Gaul. After Julian’s death, rumors spread in the Roman army that he’d been killed by a Roman javelin and not by a Persian one and they were repeated by other sources, but Ammianus clearly and unequivocally dismisses them.

    Still, I sort of agree with Syvänne that it was strange that there were so many “accidents” threatening the life of Julian during the campaign. And that he’d certainly done much in the months between his rise to the purple and the start of the campaign to alienate vast swathes of the civilian and military elites of the empire, in his fiscal and religious policies, as well as in his purging of the administration and the army of the East of loyalists of Constantius II.

    He remained in Hierapolis for three days (according to Syvänne, Hierapolis would’ve been the concentration point for the army) and, after crossing the Euphrates, he reached Batnae (modern Suruç in Turkey) on 12 March. There another fifty soldiers were killed while foraging (Res Gestae Libri XXXI, XXIII, 2, 7–8):

    Then, uniting all his forces, he marched to Mesopotamia so rapidly that, since no report of his coming had preceded him (for he had carefully guarded against that), he came upon the Assyrians unawares. Finally, having crossed the Euphrates on a bridge of boats, he arrived with his army and his Scythian auxiliaries at Batnae, a town of Osrhoene, where he met with a sad portent. For when a great throng of ostlers, in order to get fodder as usual, had taken their place near a very high stack of chaff (such as are commonly constructed in that country), since many at once laid hold on what they wanted, the heap was broken and gave way, and fifty men at once met death by being buried under the huge mass that fell upon them.

    From there, Julian’s army arrived to Carrhae on 18 March after a forced march. According to Theodoret of Cyrrhus, he avoided Edessa because of its strong Christian connections. At Carrhae he divided his forces (Ammianus XXIII, 3, 4, corroborated by Zosimus and Sozomen) between the main army led by him and the secondary army led by Procopius and Sebastianus. He feigned a march towards the Tigris and at some point between Carrhae and Nisibis he turned sharply south towards Callinicum on the Euphrates, which he reached on 27 March (Ammianus XXIII, 3, 6–7, corroborated by Zosimus). The next day he received a delegation of “Saracen” chieftains who presented him with a gold crown (Ammianus XXIII, 3, 8.). Presumably, his army was joined here by the forces of the Roman Arab foederati led by these chieftains, who fought for the Romans as long as the Romans paid for their services. As we will see, later in the campaign Julian stopped paying “subsidies” to them, and they promptly deserted the Roman side. At Callinicum, he was also joined by the large transport fleet under the command of the comes Lucillianus (Ammianus XXIII, 3, 9, corroborated by Zosimus).

    Circesium.jpg

    Possible reconstruction of the perimeter of the Roman walls of Circesium, on the modern site of Buseyr, Syria. Located at the confluence of the Euphrates and Khabur rivers, this was the last Roman city on the Euphrates.

    Julian left Callinicum for Circesium (the last large Roman fortress on the Euphrates) where he crossed the river Khabur on a bridge of boats (Ammianus XXIII, 5, 1 and Zosimus III, 14, 2). At Circesium he received a letter from Sallustius (the Praetorian Prefect for Gaul) asking him to call off the campaign (Res Gestae Libri XXXI, XXIII, 5, 4):

    But while Julian was lingering at Cercusium (sic), to the end that his army with all its followers might cross the Abora (i.e. the Khabur) on a bridge of boats, he received a sorrowful letter from Sallustius, prefect of Gaul, begging that the campaign against the Parthians might be put off, and that Julian should not thus prematurely, without having yet prayed for the protection of the gods, expose himself to inevitable destruction.

    Once more, Ammianus treated this letter from Sallustius as yet another bad omen, but Syvänne thinks that what could have been prompted Sallustius’ letter was a renewed unrest among the Germanic peoples across the Rhine, as Julian had brought with him to the East most of the Army of Gaul, leaving the West largely undefended. To Syvänne, this could suggest that there was also some sort of opposition against the campaign among some of Julian’s pagan loyalists. After the crossing (which signaled the symbolic start of the invasion and the entry into Sasanian territory)

    Upon leaving Circesium, the army marched southwards along the western bank of the Euphrates and passed Zaitha (modern Qalat es-Salihiyah in Syria) on 4 April (Ammianus XXIII, 5, 7 and Zosimus III, 14, 2). At this point (just when the army was crossing the border), Julian was urged on by his theurgist/philosopher friends in his retinue to continue the campaign despite yet more adverse omens (Ammianus XXIII, 5, 10; Socrates III, 21, 6) and decided to address the troops in a speech (Ammianus XXIII, 5, 16–23; also Magnus of Carrhae F 2–5) and gave them a donativum of 130 silver coins per soldier, which suggests that there could’ve been a certain lack of enthusiasm among the troops, even among the Gallic forces (after all, they’d acclaimed him as augustus because he promised he would not send them to fight in the East). The army then entered the Sasanian province of Āsūrestān, and the army adopted a marching order appropriate for marching across hostile territory (Res Gestae Libri XXXI, XXIV, 1, 1-4):

    After thus testing the spirit of the soldiers, who with unanimous eagerness and the usual acclaim called God to witness that so successful a prince could not be vanquished, Julian, believing that their main purpose must speedily be accomplished, cut short the night's rest and ordered the trumpets to give the signal for the march. And having made every preparation which the difficulties of a dangerous war demanded, just as the clear light of day was appearing he passed the frontiers of Assyria (i.e. Āsūrestān), riding in a lofty spirit above all others from rank to rank, and firing every man with a desire to rival him in deeds of valor. And being a general trained by experience and study of the art of war, and fearing lest, being unacquainted with the terrain, he might be entrapped by hidden ambuscades, he began his march with his army in order of battle. He also arranged to have 1500 mounted scouts riding a little ahead of the army, who advancing with caution on both flanks, as well as in front, kept watch that no sudden attack be made. He himself in the center led the infantry, which formed the main strength of his entire force, and ordered Nevitta on the right with several legions to skirt the banks of the Euphrates. The left wing with the cavalry he put in charge of Arintheus and Ormisda, to be led in close order through the level fields and meadows. Dagalaifus and Victor brought up the rear, and last of all was Secundinus, military leader in Osdruena (i.e. Osrhoene).
    Then in order to fill the enemy (if they should burst out anywhere), even when they saw him from afar, with fear of a greater force than he had, by a loose order he so extended the ranks of horses and men, that the hindermost were nearly ten miles distant from the standard-bearers in the van. This is the wonderful device that Pyrrhus, the famous king of Epirus, is said often to have used; for he was most skillful in choosing suitable places for his camp, and able to disguise the look of his forces so that the enemy might think them greater or fewer as it suited him.
    His packs, servants, unarmed attendants, and every kind of baggage he placed between two divisions of the rank and file, in order that they might not be carried off (as often happens) by a sudden attack, if they were left unprotected. The fleet, although the river along which it went winds with many a bend, was not permitted to lag behind or get ahead.

    Harrel makes some comments about this passage by Ammianus. It might seem surprising that Ammianus wrote that Julian considered his army “small” and that he chose to arrange his army in an artificially extended column to make it seem bigger than it was. By all accounts, an army of 65,000 men was not small at all and would’ve been adequate for the task. But Harrel points out that the reason for this was probably the fact that approximately 20,000 men would’ve been needed to man the fleet, so the marching part of the army would’ve had about 45,000 men actually, which would have made advisable for Julian to try to cover this fact by unorthodox marching arrangements. A marching Roman army of 60-65,000 men would have occupied a march column ten Roman miles long. With only 40-45,000 men marching in the main body, with the infantry in two columns, the army would have occupied considerably less than ten miles. In this extended march formation, it would have taken three to four hours for the rear guard to close with the head of the column when the army stopped. Syvänne though makes no comments about this point, other than stating that in his opinion Julian’s army would have been formed by 65,000 men but that the 20,000 men manning the fleet wouldn’t have been included in this amount (or in other words, that Julian’s total strength would’ve reached 85,000 men).

    Marching-Arrangements.png

    Marching arrangements of Julian’s army for the 363 CE invasion, according to John Harrel (The Nisibis War: The Defence of the Roman East AD 337-363)

    Some of the officers mentioned by Ammianus in this passage had served under Julian in the Army of Gaul and in some cases had risen meteorically thanks to him, so they would’ve been diehard loyalists of the young augustus. Foremost among them was Nevitta, who had been appointed by Julian magister equitum in 361 AD and Roman consul the next year; Ammianus did not think highly of him: he considered him to be “of low extraction”, “boorish” and “cruel”. Judging by his name, he was probably of Germanic origin (maybe Frankish) and most scholars think he would’ve been a pagan (although I don’t know on which grounds, other than the fact he was trusted by Julian). Dagalaifus was a similar case. He was an officer from the Army of Gaul, pagan and of Germanic origins, who had been raised to the post of comes domesticorum (i.e. head of Julian’s personal guard), a post that showed that Julian trusted him completely. Unlike Nevitta, who disappears from the records after Julian’s death, Dagalaifus had a successful career as a military commander under Valentinian and Valens.

    Flavius Victor on the contrary seems to have been an officer who made his career in the East, and thus under Constantius II. Due to this and to his Christian faith, some historians consider him to have been opposed to Julian, or at least to some of his policies. But Julian’s acts seem to indicate otherwise, as he raised him to the rank of comes and to the post of magister equitum in Constantinople before the start of the campaign. He was also of “barbarian” origins (Sarmatian, in this case) and he also had a long and successful military career under Julian’s successors. Flavius Arinthaeus was a similar case to Victor. His rank was also that of comes. He also would enjoy a successful career under Julian’s successors. He was made magister peditum by Valens, and in 372 CE he was appointed as consul.

    Notice also that the army was marching along the eastern bank of the Euphrates, clearly in order to avoid having to stage a crossing later in the face of possible enemy resistance, although this also forced the army to guard its open eastern flank, which would have exposed to attacks by the Sasanian cavalry.

    The army passed in front of the ruins of Dura Europos (which stood on the opposite bank of the Euphrates) on 6 April. The army then reached the first Sasanian fortress on the river, Anatha (modern Anah in Iraq), which was captured on 11 April after a show of strength (Ammianus XXIV, 1, 6–10; Zosimus III, 14, 2–3; Libanius, Oration XVIII). Let’s review Ammianus’ narration of this event (Res Gestae Libri XXXI, XXIV, 1, 6-10):

    Then, after completing a leisurely march of four days, just as evening was coming on Count Lucillianus, with a thousand light-armed troops embarked in ships, was sent, by the emperor's order, to capture the fortress of Anatha, which, like many others, is girt by the waters of the Euphrates. The ships, according to orders, took suitable positions and blockaded the island, while a misty night hid the secret enterprise. But as soon as daylight appeared, a man who went out to fetch water, suddenly catching sight of the enemy, raised a loud outcry, and by his excited shouts called the defenders to arms. Then the emperor, who from an elevated point had been looking for a site for a camp, with all possible haste crossed the river, under the protection of two ships, followed by a great number of boats carrying siege-artillery. But on drawing near the walls he considered that a battle must be accompanied by many dangers, and accordingly, partly in mild terms, partly in harsh and threatening language, he urged the defenders to surrender. They asked for a conference with Ormizda and were induced by his promises and oaths to expect much from the mercy of the Romans. Finally, driving before them a garlanded ox, they came down in suppliant guise. At once the whole fortress was set on fire; Pusaeus, its commander, later a general in Egypt, was given the rank of tribune. As for the rest, they were treated kindly, and with their families and possessions were sent to Chalcis, a city of Syria. Among them was a soldier who, when in former times Maximianus (i.e. Galerius Maximianus) made an inroad into Persian territory, had been left in these parts because of illness; he was then a young man, whose beard was just beginning to grow. He had been given several wives (as he told us) according to the custom of the country and was on our arrival a bent old man with numerous offspring. He was overjoyed, having advised the surrender, and when taken to our camp, he called several to witness that he had known and declared long ago that he, when nearly a hundred years old, would find a grave on Roman soil. After this the Saracens, to the emperor's great delight, brought in some skirmishers belonging to a division of the enemy, and after receiving rewards were sent back to engage in like activities.

    Anatha was a riverine fortress located on an island in the middle of the Euphrates, and thus it could have opposed resistance. That the fortress surrendered so quickly after Hormazd’s mission seems to indicate that there was willingness from the defenders to collaborate. Most scholars think that the garrison could’ve been supporters of Hormazd against his brother Šābuhr II, but Ilkka Syvänne offers (and quite unsupported) theory. He suggests that among the “numerous offspring” of the old Roman soldier who lived in Anatha could’ve been Pusaeus himself, the commander of the garrison. Syvänne only has very slight circumstantial “evidence” to support his theory: “Pusaeus” is not an Iranian name, so he must’ve been a local Aramaean speaker and that he was later allowed to reach command posts in the Roman army (although this means little or nothing; at the time the Roman army was stuffed with foreign soldiers and officers). Against it there’s the obvious fact that Ammianus says nothing of the sort despite going at length to tell the old soldier’s story.

    001.jpg

    Map of Julian’s invasion of Ērānšahr, according to Ilkka Syvänne (Military History of Late Rome, 361-395). Compare the several possible locations of the Naarmalcha canal; I will post other maps in this chapter.

    Nevertheless, the garrison ran a huge risk with his desertion, because Ammianus tells us how did Šābuhr II deal with traitors: they were executed, along with their families. So, in this sense it’s logical that Julian resettled all of them with their families to Syria. The fact that they lived there with their families could imply also that they were local levies of limited combat value, and perhaps with a limited sense of loyalty towards the Sasanian monarchy; also as their families were with them they had little to fear in the way of reprisals from the Šahān Šāh.

    Presumably while it was still at Anatha (Ammianus doesn’t specify) Julian’s army was hit by a “hurricane” (presumably a sandstorm) that caused serious disorder and tore apart many tents. And the very same day, another disaster struck (Res Gestae Libri XXXI, XXIV, 1, 11):

    On that same day another equally dangerous thing happened. For the river suddenly overflowed its banks and some grain-ships were sunk, since the sluices built of masonry, which served to hold in or let out the water used for irrigating the fields, were broken through; but whether this was a device of the enemy or was due to the weight of the waters could not be learned.

    Both Harrel and Syvänne agree that this sudden flood was probably manmade, and that it could have been the Sasanian forces that manipulated the irrigation systems of the area to flood the way of the Roman army, something that Ammianus himself realized at the time. After these incidents, the army continued its advance and captured and burnt an unnamed city (Ammianus and the other sources offer no details).

    On March 13 (presumably, according to Dodgeon and Lieu), the Roman army reached the Sasanian fortress of Thilutha (which Dodgeon and Lieu identify with modern Telbes, a rocky islet 14 km. south of Ana). According to Ammianus, this was an almost impregnable fortress (Res Gestae Libri XXXI, XXIV, 2, 1-2):

    After these successful operations we reached a fortress called Thilutha, situated in the middle of the river, a place rising in a lofty peak and fortified by nature's power as if by the hand of man. Since the difficulty and the height of the place made it impregnable, an attempt was made with friendly words (as was fitting) to induce the inhabitants to surrender; but they insisted that such defection then would be untimely. But they went so far as to reply, that as soon as the Romans by further advance had got possession of the interior, they also would go over to the victors, as appendages of the kingdom. After this, as our ships went by under their very walls, they looked in respectful silence without making any move.

    In other words, the Romans bypassed the fortress, and the defenders made no attempt at attacking the Roman fleet while it sailed downriver under their walls. The attitude of the Sasanian defenders allowing the Roman fleet to sail under their walls unmolested is noteworthy, but their promise to remain neutral until the end of the campaign sounds quite dubious. As Syvänne and Harrel noticed, in bypassing Thilutha, Julian was acting like Šābuhr II in his campaigns against Roman Mesopotamia in the 340s: he was advancing directly against the main enemy base (then Nisibis, now Ctesiphon) leaving enemy garrisons behind him directly on his supply route. And now (like in the 340s) this meant that if the invading army failed to conquer its objective before it ran out of supplies, it would have to live off the land or retreat in haste with its troops going hungry and being harassed by the enemy (which is exactly what happened in the end). I haven’t seen any scholar make a hypothesis about the possible motivations behind the behavior of Thilutha’s garrison. Considering as it wasn’t a city but a purely military fortress, it’s possible that it was garrisoned by professional troops and not by a local militia, and so they should have acted more aggressively. Syvänne puts forward the opinion that it was part of a deliberate tactic by the Sasanians to drag the Romans deep into Ērānšahr while denying them to maintain open supply routes. It’s a possibility worth considering but given the size of the Roman army and the effectiveness they showed at siege warfare (as we will see soon enough when the army reached the key Sasanian fortified city of Pērōz-Šābuhr).

    This procedure was repeated at the next fortress the army encountered, Achaiacala. This is an unidentified place; Alois Musil referred to it in his 1927 work Arabia Deserta: A Topographical Itinerary as probably situated somewhere in the vicinity of modern Haditha, about 75 km downriver from Ana (or 45 km. in a straight line), which was also bypassed after the garrison “promised” Julian they wouldn’t intervene further in the war. Two days after this episode (it would’ve been mid-April according to Dodgeon and Lieu) the army crossed to the western bank of the Euphrates at a place that Ammianus called Baraxmalcha. Musil could not locate this place but he hypothesized it could be a corruption of the Arabic word for “ford” farad, which combined with the Arabic for “king” malek would mean “the royal crossing”. The army then entered the town of Diacira which had been abandoned by its inhabitants. Diacira was identified by Musil as modern Hit in Iraq, as he translated the name as “bitumen-giving”. After this, according to Dodgeon and Lieu the army passed by Sitha (neither Dodgeon and Lieu nor Musil offer any possible locations for this place) and must’ve then crossed back to the eastern bank of the Euphrates at Megia (these places only appear in Zosimus’ account, not in Ammianus’, and neither Dodgeon and Lieu nor Musil offer any hypothesis about their possible location).

    Around April 22, the army reached Ozogardana (named as Zaragardia in Zosimus’ account; identified by Musil with modern Sari-al-Hadd in Iraq); where the army rested for two days. Here, the Romans first encountered the cavalry force lead by Sūrēn who would shadow them constantly from this moment on; the renegade Sasanian prince Hormazd led a foraging/reconnaissance party that was ambushed by the cavalry force of Sūrēn and the Arab phylarch Podosaces, as narrated by Ammianus and Zosimus (Res Gestae Libri XXXI, XXIV, 2, 4-5):

    After burning this city also (i.e. Ozogardana), and taking two days' rest, towards the end of the night which followed the second day, the Surena, who among the Persians has won the highest rank after the king, and the Malechus, Podosaces by name, phylarch of the Assanitic Saracens, a notorious brigand, who with every kind of cruelty had long raided our territories, laid an ambuscade for Ormizda, who, as they had learned (one knew not from what source), was on the point of setting out to reconnoiter. But their attempt failed, because the river at that point is narrow and very deep, and hence could not be forded. At daybreak the enemy were already in sight, and we then saw them for the first time in their gleaming helmets and bristling with stiff coats of mail; but our soldiers rushed to battle at quick step and fell upon them most valiantly. And although the bows were bent with strong hand and the flashing gleam of steel added to the fear of the Romans, yet anger whetted their valor, and covered with a close array of shields they pressed the enemy so hard that they could not use their bows.

    Ammianus’ claim that this was an ambush seems improbable, because from his description of the encounter it seems clear that the Sasanian force was located across the Euphrates at a place where the river could not be forded, and so this would have been a very inept attempt at an ambush indeed. As Syvänne noted, it seems more probable that this was a fortuitous encounter. But it was to foreshadow things to come; from now on, the Roman column would need to be constantly on guard against surprise attacks, and foraging parties would need to be reinforced if they didn’t want to be annihilated by Sūrēn’s force, which as we will see, would show itself consistently superior to the Roman cavalry. In addition to the difficulties for foraging, this would also mean that from this moment on, Julian’s army would advance without being able to conduct a proper reconnaissance of what lay in its way.

    Thus, shadowed by enemy forces, the Roman army reached the town of Macepracta (thanks to the mention by Ammianus of the remains of a rampart at this location helped Musil to locate it near the beginning of an ancient rampart at modern Ummu-r-Rus in Iraq, which stretches from the north bank of the Euphrates northward as far as the Tigris), near the start of the Naarmalcha (also known as the “Royal Canal”) and crossed it to reach the heavily fortified city of Pirisabora. The crossing of the canal was not without difficulties (Res Gestae Libri XXXI, XXIV, 2, 6-8):

    Inspired by these first fruits of victory, our soldiers came to the village of Macepracta, where the half-destroyed traces of walls were seen; these in early times had a wide extent, it was said, and protected Assyria from hostile inroads. Here a part of the river is drawn off by large canals which take the water into the interior parts of Babylon, for the use of the fields and the neighboring cities; another part, Naarmalcha by name, which being interpreted means "the kings' river," flows past Ctesiphon. Where it begins, a tower of considerable height rises, like the Pharos. Over this arm of the river all the infantry crossed on carefully constructed bridges. But the cavalry with the pack-animals swam across in full armor where a bend in the river made it less deep and rapid; some of them were carried off by the current and drowned, others were assailed by the enemy with a sudden shower of arrows; but a troop of auxiliaries, very lightly equipped for running, sallied forth, followed hard on the backs of the flying foe, and like so many birds of prey, struck them down.

    Here we see how the Roman cavalry failed in the attempt to force the crossing of the Naarmalcha, but the day was saved by the Roman auxilia, probably Julian’s veterans from the Army of Gaul, who were very adept in these sort of missions, as can be seen in Ammianus’ account of Julian’s campaign in Gaul. Pirisabora has been identified easily by modern scholars with Pērōz-Šābuhr, the ancient Misiche, which Šābuhr I renamed after is victory over Gordian I’s army a century earlier. After the Arab conquest of Mesopotamia, it was renamed as Anbar and under the Umayyads and Abbasids it still retained its importance as a main military base and one of the main arsenals of the Caliphs’ armies, under the name of al-Anbar. The ancient city has not been excavated because it lies today under the waters of the Euphrates. It was of essential importance to Julian’s invasion because it controlled the entry to the Naarmalcha from the Euphrates, and controlling it was necessary if the fleet was to follow the army to Ctesiphon. The city was taken by assault after a short and violent siege by the Roman army, as stated by Ammianus, Zosimus, Libanius and the Liber Suda. Ammianus’ account of the events (Res Gestae Libri XXXI, XXIV, 2, 9-22):

    When this undertaking also had been accomplished with glory, we came to the large and populous city of Pirisabora, surrounded on all sides by the river. The emperor, after riding up and inspecting the walls and the situation, began the siege with all caution, as if he wished by mere terror to take from the townsmen the desire for defense. But after they had been tried by many conferences, and not one could be moved either by promises or by threats, the siege was begun. The walls were surrounded by a triple line of armed men, and from dawn until nightfall they fought with missiles. Then the defenders, who were strong and full of courage, spread over the ramparts everywhere loose strips of haircloth to check the force of the missiles, and themselves protected by shields firmly woven of osier and covered with thick layers of rawhide, resisted most resolutely. They looked as if they were entirely of iron; for the plates exactly fitted the various parts of their bodies and fully protecting them, covered them from head to foot. And again, and again they earnestly demanded an interview with Ormizda, as a fellow countryman and of royal rank, but when he came near they assailed him with insults and abuse, as a traitor and a deserter. This tedious raillery used up the greater part of the day, but in the first stillness of night many kinds of siege-engines were brought to bear, and the deep trenches began to be filled up. When the defenders, who were watching intently, made this out by the still uncertain light, and besides, that a mighty blow of the ram had breached a corner tower, they abandoned the double walls of the city and took possession of the citadel connected with them, which stood on a precipitous plateau at the top of a rough mountain. The middle of this mountain rose to a lofty height, and its rounded circuit had the form of an Argolic shield, except that on the north side, where its roundness was broken, cliffs which descended into the current of the Euphrates still more strongly protected it. On this stronghold, battlements of walls rose high, and were built of bitumen and baked brick, a kind of structure (as is well known) than which nothing is safer. And now the soldiers with greater confidence rushed through the city, seeing it deserted, and fought fiercely with the inhabitants, who from the citadel showered upon them missiles of many kinds. For although those same defenders were hard pressed by our catapults and ballistae, they in turn set up on the height strongly stretched bows, whose wide curves extending on both sides were bent so pliably that when the strings were let go by the fingers, the iron-tipped arrows which they sent forth in violent thrusts crashed into the bodies exposed to them and transfixed them with deadly effect. Nevertheless, both armies fought with clouds of stones thrown by hand; neither side gave way, but the hot fight continued with great determination from dawn until nightfall and ended indecisively. Then, on the following day, they continued the battle most fiercely, many fell on both sides, and their equal strength held the victory in balance. Whereupon the emperor, hastening to try every lucky throw amid the mutual slaughter, surrounded by a band in wedge-formation, and protected from the fall of arrows by shields held closely together, in swift assault with a company of vigorous warriors, came near the enemy's gate, which was heavily overlaid with iron. And although he and those who shared in his peril were assailed with rocks, bullets from slings, and other missiles, nevertheless he often cheered on his men as they tried to break in the leaves of the folding gates, in order to effect an entrance, and he did not withdraw until he saw that he must soon be overwhelmed by the volleys which were being hurled down upon him. After all, he got back with all his men; a few were slightly wounded, he himself was unhurt, but bore a blush of shame upon his face. For he had read that Scipio Aemilianus, accompanied by the historian Polybius of Megalopolis in Arcadia and thirty soldiers, had undermined a gate of Carthage in a like attack. But the admitted credibility of the writers of old upholds the recent exploit. For Aemilianus had come close up to the gate, and it was protected by an arch of masonry, under which he was safely hidden while the enemy were trying to lift off the masses of stone; and he broke into the city when it was stripped of its defenders. But Julian attacked an exposed place and was forced to retreat only when the face of heaven was darkened by fragments of mountains and other missiles showered upon him, and then with difficulty.
    These actions went on in haste and confusion, and since it was evident that the construction of mantlet-sheds and mounds was greatly interfered with by other pressing matters, Julian gave orders that the engine called helepolis should quickly be built, by the use of which, as I have said above, King Demetrius overcame many cities and won the name of Poliorcetes. To this huge mass, which would rise above the battlements of the lofty towers, the defenders turned an attentive eye, and at the same time considering the resolution of the besiegers, they suddenly fell to their prayers, and standing on the towers and battlements, and with outstretched hands imploring the protection of the Romans, they craved pardon and life. And when they saw that the works were discontinued, and that those who were constructing them were attempting nothing further, which was a sure sign of peace, they asked that an opportunity be given them of conferring with Ormizda. When this was granted, and Mamersides, commander of the garrison, was let down on a rope and taken to the emperor, he obtained (as he besought) a sure promise of life and impunity for himself and his followers and was allowed to return. When he reported what he had accomplished, all the people of both sexes, since everything that they desired had been accepted, made peace with trustworthy religious rites. Then the gates were thrown open and they came out, shouting that a potent protecting angel had appeared to them in the person of a Caesar great and merciful. The prisoners numbered only 2500; for the rest of the population, in anticipation of a siege, had crossed the river in small boats and made off. In this citadel there was found a great abundance of arms and provisions; of these the victors took what they needed and burned the rest along with the place itself.

    The fall of Pērōz-Šābuhr was an important blow to the Sasanian defensive system, as according to Ammianus it controlled access to the Naarmalcha (meaning “the Royal Canal”) canal. The exact location and course of the Naarmalcha has been the subject of quite a lot of confusion and misgivings even in modern accounts of the campaign, in part because the ancient sources themselves offer contradictory information about this watercourse. While writing these chapters about the events in the Late Antique Near East I check whenever possible the places and locations where events took place in the Barrington Atlas of the Greek and Roman World, which is perhaps the most complete compilation published of the Classical world geography-wise. And when I reached this point in the campaign, I noticed that this scholarly work situated the start of the Naarmalcha a long wat downriver from Pērōz-Šābuhr, which goes against all the accounts of Julian’s campaign; this surprised me. And then I checked other modern resources and noticed a similar state of confusion (the Digital Atlas of the Roman Empire, an online resource supported by the University of Lund in Sweden, does not even draw it clearly on the ground).

    Le-Naarmalcha.jpg

    The Naarmalcha canal, according to François Paschoud.

    Finally, I found a paper that seemed to settle the subject, in a clear and precise way. And once more to my surprise though, this was not exactly a new research at all. In 1978, the French scholar François Paschoud wrote a detailed paper about this ancient canal which pretty much solved my doubts about its location and history (Le Naarmalcha: à propos du tracé d’un canal en Mésopotamie Moyenne). I’ll be following Paschoud’s paper here. basically, the Naarmalcha was a canal that took water from the Euphrates and the flowed on a south-east direction, following the natural incline of the middle Mesopotamian plain. Its main function was to act as a irrigation channel, but it also allowed the navigation by riverine vessels. According to Paschoud, its main branch did not reach the Tigris; after reaching its environs some kilometers south of Seleucia-Ctesiphon, it followed roughly a parallel course to the Tigris until all its water was distributed in lateral irrigation channels. But according to Paschoud, when comparing the ancient sources (Ammianus, Zosimus, Libanius and Cassius Dio -when describing Trajan’s 116-117 CE Parthian campaign-) in this last sector of the Naarmalcha there was a side channel that connected the Naarmalcha with the Tigris upstream from Ctesiphon and Vēh-Ardaxšīr (this is important, because for example it disagrees with Harrel’s reconstruction of the campaign, but not with Syvänne’s) which was known to Graeco-Roman authors as “Trajan’s Canal”, despite the fact that Cassius Dio makes clear that Trajan found this canal already in existence, and so it wasn’t built by him). We’ll return to this point later.

    It’s noteworthy how the Roman army managed to storm so quickly the walls of the city; the mention of a helepolis (perhaps the most elaborate and costly siege engine in Antiquity) makes clear that Julian army was well equipped for sieges, and that Julian and/or his generals knew how to use them. Nevertheless, it’s clear that by now Julian (used to his “commando-like” operations in Gaul and in Germanic lands) was getting impatient, as he chose to arrange a negotiated surrender with the defenders of the citadel. About the issue of the surrender of Pērōz-Šābuhr though there’s a very important difference between the accounts of Ammianus (see above) and Zosimus (New History, 3.18.4):

    It was therefore agreed that, upon surrendering the citadel to the emperor, all the Persians in the place should pass without molestation through the midst of the Roman army and should each receive a sum of money and a garment. About five thousand men were suffered to depart, besides those who had escaped in boats over the river.

    First, Zosimus says there were five thousand defenders, not two thousand and five hundred. And he adds the very important details that Julian actually bought them off, which was always a very unpopular measure with Roman soldiers and officers. in order to resort to it, Julian must have thought that time was really of the essence. Possibly because of this, Julian thought it to be advisable to distribute money among his troops (Zosimus, New History, 3.18.5-7):

    The soldiers, upon searching the citadel, discovered a vast quantity of corn, arms and military engines of all kinds, and household furniture and provisions in abundance. Of all these they disposed as they chose, except that the greater part of the corn was put on board ships for the maintenance of the soldiers, the remainder being divided between them in addition to their usual allowance.
    The weapons that were calculated for the use of Romans were distributed to the soldiers. Those that were adapted only to the Persian manner of fighting were either burnt or thrown into the river.
    By this action the renown of the Romans was considerably augmented; so great a city, being next to Ctesiphon the most important in Assyria, and so strongly fortified, being taken by assault in two days. For this reason, the emperor highly commended the soldiers, and treated them with great kindness, distributing to each man a hundred pieces of silver.

    According to Syvänne, Julian’s profligacy would have serious consequences later on. The distribution of money among the Roman soldiers is also noted by Ammianus, although in less favorable terms to the emperor (Res Gestae Libri XXXI, XXIV, 3, 3):

    Then, after the city was burned (as has been told), Julian mounted a tribunal erected for the purpose and thanked the assembled army, urging them all to act in the same way in the future, and promised each man a hundred pieces of silver. But when he perceived that the smallness of the promised sum excited a mutinous uproar, he was roused to deep indignation and spoke as follows (…)

    On the day after the fall of Pērōz-Šābuhr, a Roman reconnaissance party was ambushed and routed by the cavalry led by Sūrēn. Its commanders were relieved of their command by Julian (Ammianus XXIV, 3, 1–2, Zosimus III, 19,1–2 and Libanius, oration XVIII, 229). The army marched along the canal past Phissenia (identified by Musil with modern ‘Akar an-Na Jeli, lying about two kilometers from the Euphrates on the left bank of the canal) but the advance was slowed by the Sasanians who breached the dams and turned the low ground into marshland (Ammianus XXIV, 3, 10–11, Zosimus III, 19, 3–421 and Libanius, Oration XVIII, 222–6 and 232–4). Ammianus is quite confusing in this part of his account, because he doesn’t state clearly where did the army start to follow the Naarmalcha towards Ctesiphon. As we’ve seen above, he explicitly states it bifurcated from the Euphrates at Pērōz-Šābuhr, but later on he writes as if the army kept on following the Euphrates downriver from this city, hence the confusion among scholars.

    At this point the Euphrates was divided into many small streams (Ammianus XXIV, 3, 14). In this district they found an abandoned Jewish settlement (Ammianus XXIV, 4, 1). The Jewish settlement was probably Nehardea, the great center of Jewish rabbinical learning in “Babylonia”.

    Julian headed the bridging operation and led his army to Bithra (a problematic location; Musil identified it tentatively with Ibrahim al-Halil, about 25 km. south-east of Phissenia) where they found the ruins of a palace (Zosimus III, 19, 49). Maiozamalcha (The name in Aramaic means “royal fort” or “royal port”, so called because of its position on the Naarmalcha. Musil noticed a ruin mound -modern Han az-Zad- about 18 km. west of Ctesiphon; The “ma’oz” part of the name could be perhaps derived from “Mahoza”, the name given by Jews and Christians to Vēh-Ardaxšīr), a well-fortified city, was taken after a laborious siege (probably on 10–13 May 363 CE) as related in Ammianus XXIV, 4, 2–30, Zosimus III, 20, 2–22, 7 and Libanius, Orations XVIII, 235–42. The storming of Maiozamalcha was another outstanding achievement by the Roman army in siege warfare (Res Gestae Libri XXXI, XXIV, 4, 2-30):

    And when he had come to Maiozamalcha, a great city surrounded by strong walls, he pitched his tents and took anxious precautions that the camp might not be disturbed by a sudden onset of the Persian cavalry, whose valor in the open field was enormously feared by all peoples. After making this provision, attended by a few light-armed soldiers and himself also marching on foot, Julian planned to make a careful examination of the position of the city; but he fell into a dangerous ambush, from which he escaped only with difficulty and at the risk of his life. For through a secret gate of the town ten armed Persians came out, and after crossing the lower slopes on bended knees made a sudden onslaught on our men. Two with drawn swords attacked the emperor, whose bearing made him conspicuous, but he met their strokes by lifting up his shield. Thus protected, with great and lofty courage he plunged his sword into the side of one assailant, while his followers with many a stroke cut down the other. The rest, of whom some were wounded, fled in all directions. After stripping the two of their arms, Julian returned to camp with the spoils, bringing back his companions uninjured, and was received by all with great joy (…).
    On the following day bridges were built and the army led across, and a camp was measured off in another and more advantageous place and girt by a double palisade, since (as I have said) Julian feared the open plains. Then he began the siege of the town, thinking that it would be dangerous to advance farther, and leave behind him an enemy whom he feared.
    While great preparations were being made for the siege, the Surena, who was in command of the enemy, made an attack on the pack-animals, which were grazing in the palm-groves; but he was met by our scouting-cohorts, and after loss of a few of the men, was baffled by our forces and withdrew the inhabitants of two cities, which were on islands made by the winding river, alarmed and distrustful of their strength, tried to make their way to the walls of Ctesiphon; some of them slipped off through the thick woods, others crossed the neighboring pools in their boats made from hollowed trees, thinking this their only hope and the best means for making the long journey which confronted them, if they were to reach that distant land. Some of them, who offered resistance, were slain by our troops, who also rushed about everywhere in skiffs and boats and from time to time brought in others as prisoners. For Julian had provided with balanced care, that while the infantry were besieging the town, the cavalry forces, divided into detachments, should give their attention to driving off booty; and through this arrangement the soldiers, without burdening the provincials at all, fed upon the vitals of the enemy.
    And now the emperor, having surrounded, with a triple line of shields, the town, which had a double wall about it, assailed it with all his might, in the hope of gaining his end. But necessary as the attack was, so was it very difficult to bring it to a successful issue. For on every side the approaches were surrounded by high and precipitous cliffs and many windings made them doubly perilous and the town inaccessible, especially since the towers, formidable for both their number and their height, rose to the same elevation as the eminence of natural rock which formed the citadel, while the sloping plateau overlooking the river was fortified with strong battlements. Added to this was an equally serious disadvantage, in that the large and carefully chosen force of the besieged could not by any enticements be led to surrender but resisted as though resolved either to be victorious or to die amid the ashes of their native city. But our soldiers could with difficulty kept from the attack, mutinously pressing on and demanding a pitched battle even in the open field; and when the trumpet sounded the recall, they continually tormented themselves with spirited attempts to assail the enemy.
    However, the judgement of our leaders overcame their extreme violence; the work was divided, and each man undertook with all speed the task assigned him. For here lofty embankments were being raised, there others were filling up the deep ditches; elsewhere long passages were being constructed in the bowels of the earth, and those in charge of the artillery were setting up their hurling engines, soon to break out with deadly roar. Nevitta and Dagalaifus had charge of the mines and mantlets; the opening of the attack, and the protection of the artillery from fire or sallies was undertaken by the emperor in person.
    And when all the preparations for destroying the city had been completed with much painful toil and the soldiers demanded battle, the general named Victor, who had reconnoitered the roads as far as Ctesiphon, returned and reported that he had found no obstacles. Upon this all the soldiers were wild with joy and aroused to greater confidence awaited under arms the signal for battle.
    And now, as the trumpets sounded their martial note, both sides raised a loud shout. The Romans were the first with repeated onslaughts and threatening roars to attack the foe, who were covered with plates of iron as if by a thin layer of feathers, and were full of confidence since the arrows flew back as they struck the folds of the hard iron; but at times the covering of joined shields, with which our men skillfully covered themselves as if by the protection of irregularly shaped arches, because of their continual movements yawned apart. The Persians, on the other hand, obstinately clinging to their walls, tried with every possible effort to avoid and baffle the death-dealing attacks. But when the besiegers, carrying before them hurdles of wicker work, were already threatening the walls, the enemy's slingers and archers, others even rolling down huge stones, with torches and fiery shafts tried to keep them at a distance; then ballistae adapted for wooden arrows were bent and plied with screaming sound, sending forth showers of missiles; and scorpions, hauled to various places by skilled hands hurled round stones. But after the renewed and repeated contests, as the heat increased towards the middle of the day and the sun burnt like fire, both sides, though intent upon the preparation of the siege-works and eager for battle, were forced to retire worn out and drenched with sweat.
    With the same fixity of purpose, the contending parties on the following day also carried on the battle persistently with contests of various kinds and separated on equal terms and with indecisive result. But in the face of every danger, the emperor, in closest company with combatants, urged on the destruction of the city, lest by lingering too long about its walls, he should be forced to abandon his greater projects. But in case of dire necessity nothing is so trifling that it may not at times, even contrary to expectation, tip the balance in some great undertaking. For when, as often, the combatants were on the point of separating and the fighting slackened, a more violent blow from a ram which had shortly before been brought up shattered a tower which was higher than all the rest and strongly built of kiln-dried brick; and in its fall it carried with it amid a tremendous crash the adjacent side of the wall. Thereupon, according to changes of the situation, the vigor of the besiegers and in turn the energy of the besieged was shown by splendid deeds. For nothing seemed too hard for our soldiers, inflamed as they were with wrath and resentment, nothing was formidable or terrible in the eyes of the defenders as they joined issue for their lives. For it was not until the fight had raged for a long time without result and blood had been shed in much slaughter on both sides, that the close of the day brought it to an end and the combatants then yielded to fatigue.
    While this was going on in the light of day and before the eyes of all, it was reported to the emperor, who kept a watchful eye on everything, that the legionary soldiers to whom the laying of the mines had been assigned, having completed their underground passages and supported them by beams, had made their way to the bottom of the foundations of the walls, and were ready to sally out when he himself should give the word. Therefore, although the night was far advanced, the trumpets sounded, and at the given signal for entering battle they rushed to arms. And, as had been planned, the fronts of the wall were attacked on two sides in order that while the defenders were rushing here and there to avert the danger, the clink of the iron of tools digging at the parts close by might not be heard, and that with no hindrance from within, the band of sappers might suddenly make its appearance. When these matters were arranged as had been determined, and the defenders were fully occupied, the mines were opened and Exsuperius, a soldier of a cohort of the Victores, leaped out; next came Magnus, a tribune and Jovianus, a notary, followed by the whole daring band. They first slew those who were found in the room through which they had come into daylight; then advancing on tiptoe they cut down all the watch, who, according to the custom of the race, were loudly praising in song the justice and good fortune of their king. It was thought that Mars himself (if it is lawful for the majesty of the gods to mingle with mortals) had been with Luscinus, when he stormed the camp of the Lucanians; and this was believed because in the heat of battle an armed warrior of formidable size was seen carrying scaling-ladders, and on the following day, when the army was reviewed, could not be found, although he was sought for with particular care; whereas, if he had been a soldier, from consciousness of a memorable exploit he would have presented himself of his own accord. But although then the doer of that noble deed was wholly unknown, on the present occasion those who had fought valiantly were made conspicuous by gifts of siege-crowns, and according to the ancient custom were commended in the presence of the assembled army.
    At last the city, stripped of its defenders, laid open with many breaches and on the point of falling, was entered, and the violence of the enraged soldiers destroyed whatever they found in their way, without distinction of age or sex; others, in fear of imminent death, being threatened on one side by fire, on the other by the sword, shedding their last tears voluntarily hurled themselves headlong from the walls, and with all their limbs shattered endured for a time a life more awful than death, until they were put out of their misery. Nabdates, however, the commandant of the garrison, with eighty followers, was dragged out alive, and when he was brought before the emperor, who was happy and inclined to mercy, orders were given that he be spared unharmed with the others and kept in custody.
    Then when the booty was divided according to the estimate of merit and hard service, the emperor, being content with little, took only a dumb boy who was offered to him, who was acquainted with sign-language and explained many things in which he was skilled by most graceful gestures, was valued at three pieces of gold; and this he considered a reward for the victory that he had won that was both agreeable and deserving of gratitude. But as to the maidens who were taken prisoners (and they were beautiful, as is usual in Persia, where the women excel in that respect) he refused to touch a single one or even to look on her, following the example of Alexander and Africanus, worth avoided such conduct, lest those who showed themselves unwearied by hardships should be unnerved by passion.
    In the course of these contests a builder on our side, whose name I do not recall, happened to be standing behind a scorpion, when a stone which one of the gunners had fitted insecurely to the sling was hurled backward. The unfortunate man was thrown on his back with his breast crushed and killed; and his limbs were so torn asunder that not even parts of his whole body could be identified.
    The emperor was on the point of leaving the spot, when a trustworthy informant reported that in some dark and hidden pits near the walls of the destroyed city, such as are numerous in those parts, a band of the enemy was treacherously lying in wait, intending to rush out unexpectedly and attack the rear of our army. At once a band of foot soldiers of tried valor was sent to dislodge them, and when they could neither force an entrance through the openings nor lure to battle those hidden within, they gathered straw and faggots and piled them before the entrances of the caves. The smoke from this, becoming thicker the narrower the space which it penetrated, killed some by suffocation; others scorched by the blast of fires, were forced to come out and met a swift death; and so, when all had fallen victims to steel or flame, our men quickly returned to their standards. Thus, a great and populous city, destroyed by Roman strength and valor, was reduced to dust and ruins.

    I’d like to comment on two points of Ammianus’ account. First, that obviously the Roman army had launched its invasion very well provided with siege machinery and that like at Pērōz-Šābuhr it was employed here to devastating effect (even better here, perhaps because of the lack of a citadel, which is strange, as it’s a common feature in practically all excavated Sasanian cities, whether in the eastern or the western part of the empire). The second point is an ominous one for the Romans: Ammianus mentions that Sūrēn’s cavalry attacked the pack animals of the army. As we will see, this would later have consequences, and I’m inclined to agree with Syvänne who thinks this attack was part of a planned strategy by the Sasanian defenders.

    Iraq-i-Figure-1.jpg

    Map of Sasanian Iraq (provinces of Āsūrestān and Nodšēragān in 363 CE). The irrigated plains began south of the Naarmalcha canal.
     
    8.9 FROM THE BATTLE OF CTESIPHON TO THE BEGINING OF THE RETREAT.
  • 8.9 FROM THE BATTLE OF CTESIPHON TO THE BEGINING OF THE RETREAT.

    After the fall of Maiozamalcha, the Roman army crossed a series of canals, and an attempt to stop them by the Sasanians was foiled (Ammianus XXIV, 4, 31). The relative ease with which the Roman army reached the outskirts of Ctesiphon is briefly mentioned in many other sources, like Libanius’ Epistle 1402, 2–3, Eutropius X, 16, 1; Festus, Breviarium, 28, p. 67. 18–19; Gregory of Nazianzus, Oration V,9; Socrates, III, 21, 3, Sozomenus VI, 1, 4, Malalas, XIII, pp. 329, 23–330 and Zonaras, XIII, 13, 1.

    At this point, the Roman army reached the western bank of the Tigris, the location of the twin cities of Vēh-Ardaxšīr (called Coche or Kōḵē in Syriac Christian texts, or Māhōzē in the Babylonian Talmud, and still called anachronistically “Seleucia” by Greek and Latin authors like Libanius or Ammianus)on the western bank of the river and Ctesiphon (Middle Persian Ṭīsfūn) on its eastern bank. Ctesiphon has never been excavated, and Vēh-Ardaxšīr was only excavated briefly in the late 1920s by an American team and later in 1964 by an Italian one which managed to draw a map of the southwestern quarter of the city.

    Karte-Seleucia-Ktesiphon.png

    Reconstruction of the surroundings of Ctesiphon / Vēh-Ardaxšīr in Late Antiquity. The riverbed of the Tigris has changed significantly across the centuries. The westernmost course is the one that existed from the III century BCE to the I century CE, and as you can see, it reached the Hellenistic foundation of Seleucia; while Ctesiphon (founded by the Arsacids in the II century CE stood quite far removed on the eastern bank of the river. Vologesias / Walagašapat was founded by the Arsacid king Vologases I (Walagaš in Parthian, Walāxš in Middle Persian and Balāš in New Persian and Arabic) in he second half of the I century CE, probably after the Tigris changed course and left Seleucia without its river port. Vēh-Ardaxšīr was founded by the first Sasanian Šahān Šāh Ardaxšīr I in 230 CE just opposite the river from Ctesiphon, since then the Tigris has again changed course and now its riverbed crosses almost straight through the center of the ancient city. The irregular pink shape in the map is the excavated area of the old city, and the thick black line the part of the ancient wall that has been discovered (and which has led archaeologists to believe it was a “round city” as many other Arsacid and Sasanian foundations.

    Based on the Italian excavations, Vēh-Ardaxšīr was a typical Sasanian city, built on a round plan and was heavily fortified, with circular walls studded with semicircular towers at regular intervals of 35 meters. The wall was very thick (10 meters wide at the foundations) and was protected by a wide moat, probably filled by water and built in mudbrick; all in all strikingly similar to the fortifications of better-known Central Asian cities that were also part of the Sasanian empire (permanently or temporarily) like Merv or Balḵ. From Christian and Jewish texts, we also know that the city had a citadel (known in Middle Persian as Grondagan or Garondagan, and as Aqra d’Kōḵē in Syriac) where the Sasanian governor, functionaries and garrison resided. The city lodged also one of the royal mints of the empire (Ctesiphon had another).

    According to Tabarī, two bridges united Vēh-Ardaxšīr with Ctesiphon (one of them built by Šābuhr II early on his reign). Nothing is known for sure about Ctesiphon proper, as the German excavations before the WWI and the American ones in the 1920s only covered the Aspanbar area south of Ctesiphon proper, where in the VI century Khusrō I and his successors built the great palace of which still stands the throne hall, as well as pleasure gardens, walled hunting grounds, and where the members of the Sasanian court also built their private palaces near the royal residence. But all this did not exist yet in 363 CE, Ctesiphon proper is supposed to have been another walled city built on a round plan as was typical of Arsacid and Sasanian foundations, following the Central Asian custom. Inside the walls stood the “White Palace”, the palace of the Sasanian kings, which was still standing when the Arabs took the city in the VII century CE. We know also, according to Jewish and Christian texts, that most of the population of Vēh-Ardaxšīr was Christian or Jewish, and that the city was the see of a bishopric. In both cities, the majority of the population would have been formed by native Syriac speakers, with a small group of Iranian speakers forming the administrative, clerical and military elite.

    Mesopotamia is flat, but that doesn’t mean that the environs of Ctesiphon were open terrain suited for army maneuvering. Apart from the large obstacle of the river Tigris, the terrain was crisscrossed by a dense network of irrigation canals, some of which (like the Naarmalcha canal) were large obstacles for troop movements (as François Paschoud showed in the paper I mentioned in the last chapter, due to hydraulic reasons and to the incline of the terrain, a major canal like the Naarmalcha must’ve had its water surface risen several meters above the surrounding terrain, and it was flanked by major earth dams). This would have been a problem for both armies; the Sasanian cavalry would’ve been denied the sort of open, flat terrain that its cavalry needed, but the Romans also found their advance encumbered by frequent ambushes and by floods caused by the Sasanian defenders who tried to delay their advance by opening locks and floodgates whenever possible. On top of it all, the whole area was densely settled and built up, and other than the “twin cities” there were multiple palaces, villages, country estates and smaller fortified towns and cities.

    As I said in the previous chapter, there’s still a lack of understanding among scholars about the exact layout of the Naarmalcha, and this has been the cause for different interpretations of the arrival of the Roman army to Ctesiphon. Let’s see the different accounts by Ammianus, Zosimus, Libanius and we’ll also take a look at Cassius Dio’s account of Trajan’s campaign in 116-117 CE.

    Ammianus Marcellinus (Res Gestae Libri XXXI, XXIV, 6, 1):

    Then we came to an artificial river, by name Naarmalcha, meaning "the kings' river", which at that time was dried up. Here in days gone by Trajan, and after him Severus, had with immense effort caused the accumulated earth to be dug out, and had made a great canal, in order to let in the water from the Euphrates and give boats and ships access to the Tigris. It seemed to Julian in all respects safest to clean out the same canal, which formerly the Persians, when in fear of a similar invasion, had blocked with a huge dam of stones. As soon as the canal was cleared, the dams were swept away by the great flow of water, and the fleet in safety covered thirty stadia and was carried into the channel of the Tigris. Thereupon bridges were at once made, and the army crossed and pushed on towards Coche (i.e. Vēh-Ardaxšīr). Then, so that a timely rest might follow the wearisome toil, we encamped in a rich territory, abounding in orchards, vineyards, and green cypress groves. In its midst is a pleasant and shady dwelling, displaying in every part of the house, after the custom of that nation, paintings representing the king killing wild beasts in various kinds of hunting; for nothing in their country is painted or sculptured except slaughter in diverse forms and scenes of war.

    Zosimus (New History, III ,24, 2):

    They advanced to a very broad sluice or channel, said by the country people to have been cut by Trajan, when he made an expedition into Persia. In this channel runs the river Narmalaches and discharges itself into the Tigris. The emperor caused it to be cleansed, in order to enable his vessels to pass through it into the Tigris, and constructed bridges over it for the passage of his army.

    Libanius (Oration XVIII, 244-247)

    Doing things of this sort, they at length arrive at the cities, so long objects of their desire, the which, in place of Babylon, adorn the land of the Babylonians. Through the midst of these runs the river Tigris, and after passing by them some little distance, unites with the Euphrates. At this point, what was to be done could not be discovered; for if the soldiers should pass along in the flotilla it was impossible to approach the towns; whilst if they attacked the towns, their boats would be useless to them, and if they should sail up the Tigris, the labor would be excessive, and they would have to pass in the middle between the cities. Who then solved the difficulty? It was not a Calchas, nor a Tiresias, nor any one of the diviners; the emperor seized some prisoners out of those dwelling in the neighborhood, and made inquiry about a navigable canal (this too from his books) constructed by the ancient kings, and leading from the Tigris into the Euphrates, at some distance from the two cities (i.e. Ctesiphon and Vēh-Ardaxšīr). Of these prisoners, the youthfulness of the one was entirely unsuspicious of his design in putting the question, whilst the one of advanced age told the truth because there was no help for it (for he perceived that the emperor was as exactly informed about the locality as anyone of the natives, so much had he, though distant, got a view of the place in books). The elder prisoner therefore tells, both where the canal is, and in what way it is closed up, and that it had been filled up with earth, and sowed over with corn at the part next its opening. At the nod of the commander all the obstruction was taken out, and of the two streams the one is seen drained dry; the other bore along the flotilla which kept side by side with the army; whilst the Tigris coming down upon those in the cities greater than before, inasmuch as it had received the waters of the Euphrates, occasioned them great alarm, in the belief that it would not spare their walls.


    Cassius Dio (Roman History, Book LXVIII, 28, 1-2)

    Trajan had planned to conduct the Euphrates through a canal into the Tigris, in order that he might take his boats down by this route and use them to make a bridge. But learning that this river has a much higher elevation than the Tigris, he did not do so, fearing that the water might rush down in a flood and render the Euphrates unnavigable. So, he used hauling-engines to drag the boats across the very narrow space that separates the two rivers (the whole stream of the Euphrates empties into a marsh and from there somehow joins the Tigris); then he crossed the Tigris and entered Ctesiphon.

    If we take the three parallel narratives about this part of Julian’s expedition, Paschoud remarks that the less reliable one in this case is Ammianus, even if he accompanied it and was a direct eyewitness (let’s remember that he wrote his work almost thirty years later after he’d retired from the army and settled in Rome). For starters, a comparison with the other two accounts shows clearly that in this passage he’s confusing the Naarmalcha with the so-called “Canal of Trajan”. And on top of it, he’s obviously forgotten that he’d already written about the Naarmalcha in a previous passage (quoted in the previous chapter). Zosimus’ account is more precise, but it only specifies in a very indirect way that the Canal of Trajan was dry when Julian reached it. Of the three accounts, Libanius’ is the most helpful with geographical details in this case. In his account, he specifies that the Naarmalcha only reached the Tigris downstream from Seleucia (a deserted city by now) and Ctesiphon, but that another canal built by an ancient emperor (evidently, the Canal of Trajan) branched off from the Naarmalcha and reached the Tigris upstream from Ctesiphon.

    Paschoud carries on with his study by pointing out that Cassius Dio’s text lets us know that the topography of the region had not changed much in two centuries, and that what IV century authors called “the Canal of Trajan” had not been made by that emperor. Dio’s passage has only arrived to us in an abbreviated form (through John Xiphilinus’ epitome) but it seems that Trajan did not seek to build a new canal, but that he merely repaired an existing one that was dry by then, as it happened again in 363 CE. Paschoud hypothesizes that this canal must’ve been much older, perhaps related to the foundation of the Hellenistic settlement of Seleucia on the Tigris; after the foundation of this city it would have become necessary to build a waterway that allowed shipping to reach its city docks without having to sail up the Tigris stream (the Naarmalcha reached the Tigris south of Seleucia’s location, same as with Ctesiphon and Vēh-Ardaxšīr).

    Notice also how Dio’s text also show how the Romans were well aware of the difference in topographical levels between the Euphrates and Tigris. And two of the three narratives from the IV century attest to these effects: Ammianus describes that after reopening this blocked canal, it filled up quickly and the current was swift; Libanius also describes a brusque rise of the level of the waters of the Tigris between “Seleucia” (probably Vēh-Ardaxšīr) and Ctesiphon after Julian had this old canal repaired.

    The Naarmalcha main role would have been as the principal irrigation canal in this region, and as irrigation was done by gravity, it was necessary for its water level to be higher than that of the surrounding land. The higher the level compared to that of its surrounding fields, the further the secondary irrigation channels that branched out could carry their water, and more land could be brought into cultivation. Today’s landscape in central and southern Iraq is thus still crisscrossed by these ancient canals (now dry) with their dams that lie well above the surrounding countryside; this practice was facilitated by the abundant amounts of alluvial sand and other deposits carried by the Euphrates, that meant that in its initial stages it was the water itself that brought the construction materials for the canals (although this also implied that later they would have needed constant dredging to keep their beds in working order).

    Paschoud’s reconstruction (which I find personally convincing) goes against the reconstructions by Dodgeon & Lieu, as well as by Syvänne, according to whom the Roman supply fleet reached the Tigris directly through the Naarmalcha downstream of Ctesiphon, while Paschoud (reading correctly the ancient sources as we’ve seen above, especially Libanius) stated that the Roman fleet reached the Tigris via the so-called “Canal of Trajan” upstream of Ctesiphon. This will be important for later, when we will consider Julian’s decision to burn the fleet.

    Map-Ctesiphon.jpg

    Julian’s attack on Ctesiphon according to Dodgeon & Lieu (from “The Roman Eastern Frontier and the Persian Wars (AD226–363): A Documentary History”)

    The Romans came upon a palace built in Roman style and left it untouched (probably on 15 May), and they also found Šābuhr II’s hunt reserve well stocked with game (Ammianus XXIV, 5, 1–2, Zosimus III, 23, 1–2 and Libanius, orations XVII, 20 and XVIII, 243). At the site of the ruins of the ancient Hellenistic city of Seleucia (west of Vēh-Ardaxšīr, which was used by the Sasanian kings as a site for public executions, as stated in Christian Syriac martyrs’ acts) Julian saw the impaled bodies of the relatives of the Persian commander who surrendered Pērōz-Šābuhr (Ammianus XXIV, 5, 4). Here Nabdates, the former Persian commander of Maiozamalcha, who had surrendered to the Romans and was their prisoner but had “grown insolent”, was burnt alive with 80 of his men (Ammianus XXIV, 5, 4). A strong fortress nearby was captured by the Romans (probably on 16 May: Ammianus XXIV, 5, 6–11). This could be the Meinas Sabath (identified variously as either the Arsacid settlement of Vologesias/Walagašapat or as a suburb of Vēh-Ardaxšīr) mentioned in Zosimus III, 23, 3. The fleet then sailed down the Naarmalcha and the army reached the walls of Vēh-Ardaxšīr. (Ammianus XXIV, 6, 1–2, Zosimus III, 24, 2, Libanius, Oration XVIII, 245–7 and Malalas, XII, 10–16 -identical to Magnus of Carrhae’s Fragment 7).

    This is a key moment in the narrative. Notice that according to some scholars (like Paschoud) the fleet reached the Tigris upstream from Ctesiphon / Vēh-Ardaxšīr (opening the locks of the so-called “Canal of Trajan”; hence the flooding in Vēh-Ardaxšīr recorded by Libanius) while according to others like Syvänne and Dodgeon & Lieu, the fleet reached the Tigris downstream from the twin cities.

    Ctesiphon-Plaster.jpg

    This stucco panel (dated tentatively to the VI century CE) found near the great palace of Khusrō I in the Aspanbar area is thought to have belonged to the private palace of one of the high-ranking members o the Sasanian court. It’s one of the very few excavated artifacts from Sasanian Ctesiphon. Interiors of Sasanian palaces and temples were usually intricately covered with stucco decoration, which was later painted, either applied in situ or “prefabricated” and later fixed to the inner walls of the building (like this case). Two identical panels have been preserved, one in the Met in New York and the other at the Museum für Islamische Kunst in Berlin. According to Aboulala Soudavar, the Pahlavi inscription reads as “afzun” which can be translated into English as “to increase”, while the pearl roundel and the open wings are symbols for the ancient Iranian concept of “farr” (“divine” or “kingly” glory).

    In his Oration V, the Christian author (contemporary of the events) Gregory of Nazianzus stated that both cities were “strongly defended”. As we’ve seen, archaeological digs in Vēh-Ardaxšīr confirm this, and the same is assumed to be true by scholars with respect to Ctesiphon on the other bank of the Tigris. The Babylonian Talmud also informs us that the civilians of Māhōzē were organized in a militia that was mobilized in case of a military emergency; so the Romans had to contend with two very large and populous cities that were very well fortified and defended, and which couldn’t be cut off from the outside world, unless they were both besieged at the same time (as they were united by bridges) and the besiegers cut the Tigris both upstream and upstream from the cities. And on top of it all, the Romans would have needed to do this without having defeated before the main Sasanian army led by the Šahān Šāh, which as we will see was about to arrive in scene. For the sake of comparison, in the VII century CE it took the Muslim Arab conquerors a year to besiege and conquer both cities, and only because they’d destroyed previously the main Sasanian field army at al-Qadisiyyah and a defected Sasanian engineer built eight catapults for them. Julian did not have that amount of time available, and probably he’d planned the invasion of Ērānšahr in the same way he’d planned his commando raids against the Franks and Alamanni in the Rhine. But this enemy was different.

    Julian partially unloaded the fleet and used the boats to ferry soldiers across the Tigris against a strong Sasanian defense; a bitter battle was fought before the gates of Ctesiphon and won by the Romans, but (according to Ammianus) they were unable to exploit the victory because of a lack of discipline. Let’s see the different accounts:

    Ammianus Marcellinus: Res Gestae Libri XXXI, 6, 4-15:

    Since thus far everything had resulted as he desired, the Augustus now with greater confidence strode on to meet all dangers, hoping for so much from a fortune which had never failed him that he often dared many enterprises bordering upon rashness. He unloaded the stronger ships of those which carried provisions and artillery, and manned them each with eight hundred armed soldiers; then keeping by him the stronger part of the fleet, which he had formed into three divisions, in the first quiet of night he sent one part under comes Victor with orders speedily to cross the river and take possession of the enemy's side of the stream. His generals in great alarm with unanimous entreaties tried to prevent him from taking this step but could not shake the emperor's determination. The flag was raised according to his orders, and five ships immediately vanished from sight. But no sooner had they reached the opposite bank than they were assailed so persistently with firebrands and every kind of inflammable material, that ships and soldiers would have been consumed, had not the emperor, carried away by the keen vigor of his spirit, cried out that our soldiers had, as directed, raised the signal that they were already in possession of the shore, and ordered the entire fleet to hasten to the spot with all the speed of their oars. The result was that the ships were saved uninjured, and the surviving soldiers, although assailed from above with stones and every kind of missiles, after a fierce struggle scaled the high, precipitous banks and held their positions unyieldingly. History acclaims Sertorius for swimming across the Rhine with arms and cuirass; but on this occasion some panic-stricken soldiers, fearing to remain behind after the signal had been given, lying on their shields, which are broad and curved, and clinging fast to them, though they showed little skill in guiding them, kept up with the swift ships across the eddying stream.
    The Persians opposed to us serried bands of mail-called horsemen in such close order that the gleam of moving bodies covered with densely fitting plates of iron dazzled the eyes of those who looked upon them, while the whole throng of horse was protected by coverings of leather. The cavalry was backed up by companies of infantry, who, protected by oblong, curved shields covered with wickerwork and raw hides, advanced in very close order. Behind these were elephants, looking like walking hills, and, by the movements of their enormous bodies, they threatened destruction to all who came near them, dreaded as they were from past experience.
    Hereupon the emperor, following Homeric tactics, filled the space between the lines with the weakest of the infantry, fearing that if they formed part of the van and shamefully gave way, they might carry off all the rest with them; or if they were posted in the rear behind all the centuries, they might run off at will with no one to check them. He himself with the light-armed auxiliaries hastened now to the front, and now to the rear.
    So, when both sides were near enough to look each other in the face, the Romans, gleaming in their crested helmets and swinging their shields as if to the rhythm of the anapaestic foot, advanced slowly; and the light-armed skirmishers opened the battle by hurling their javelins, while the earth everywhere was turned to dust by both sides and swept away in a swift whirlwind. And when the battle-cry was raised in the usual manner by both sides and the trumpets' blare increased the ardor of the men, here and there they fought hand-to‑hand with spears and drawn swords; and the soldiers were freer from the danger of the arrows the more quickly they forced their way into the enemy's ranks. Meanwhile Julian was busily engaged in giving support to those who gave way and in spurring on the laggards, playing the part both of a valiant fellow-soldier and of a commander. Finally, the first battle-line of the Persians began to waver, and at first slowly, then at quick step, turned back and made for the neighboring city with their armor well heated up. Our soldiers pursued them, wearied though they also were after fighting on the scorching plains from sunrise to the end of the day, and following close at their heels and hacking at their legs and backs, drove the whole force with Pigranes, the Surena, and Narseus, their most distinguished generals, in headlong flight to the very walls of Ctesiphon. And they would have pressed in through the gates of the city, mingled with the throng of fugitives, had not the general called Victor, who had himself received a flesh-wound in the shoulder from an arrow, raising his hand and shouting, restrained them; for he feared that the excited soldiers, if they rashly entered the circuit of the walls and could find no way out, might be overcome by weight of numbers (…).
    After their fear was past, trampling on the overthrown bodies of their foes, our soldiers, still dripping with blood righteously shed, gathered at their emperor's tent, rendering him praise and thanks because he had won so glorious a victory, everywhere without recognition whether he was leader or soldier, and considering the welfare of others rather than his own. For as many as 2,500 Persians had been slain, with the loss of only seventy of our men. Julian addressed many of them by name, whose heroic deeds performed with unshaken courage he himself had witnessed, and rewarded them with naval, civic, and camp crowns.

    Festus, Breviarium 28:

    Having pitched his camp opposite to Ctesiphon on the bank where the Tigris joins the Euphrates, he spent the day in athletic contests to relieve the enemy of their watchfulness. In the middle of the night he embarked his soldiers and suddenly carried them across to the far bank. They struggled over the escarpment, where the ascent would have been difficult even in daytime when no one was trying to stop them. They threw the Persians into confusion by the unexpected terror and the armies of their entire nation were turned to flight. The soldiers would have victoriously entered the open gates of Ctesiphon if the opportunity for booty had not been greater than their concern for victory.

    Gregory of Nazianzus, Oration V, 9-10:

    Now, the first steps in his (i.e. Julian’s) enterprise, excessively audacious and much celebrated by those of his own party, were as follows. The entire region of Assyria that the Euphrates flows through, and skirting Persia, there unites itself with the Tigris; all this he took and ravaged, and captured some of the fortified towns, in the total absence of anyone to hinder him, whether he had taken the Persians unawares by the rapidity of his advance, or whether he was outgeneraled by them and drawn on by degrees further and further into the snare (for both stories are told); at any rate, advancing in this way, with his army marching along the river’s bank and his flotilla upon the river supplying provisions and carrying the baggage, after a considerable interval he reached Ctesiphon, a place which, even to be near, was thought by him half the victory, by reason of his longing for it.
    From this point, however, like sand slipping from beneath the feet, or a great storm bursting upon a ship, things began to go black for him; for Ctesiphon is a strongly fortified town, hard to take, and very well secured by a wall of burnt brick, a deep ditch, and the swamps coming from the river. It is rendered yet more secure by another strong place, the name of which is Coche, furnished with equal defenses as far as regards garrison and artificial protection, so closely united with it that they appeared to be one city, the river separating both between them. For it was neither possible to take the place by general assault, nor to reduce it by siege, nor even to force a way through by means of the fleet principally, for he would run the risk of destruction; being exposed to missiles from higher ground on both sides, he left the place in his rear, and did so in this manner. He diverted a not inconsiderable part of the river Euphrates, the greatest of rivers, and rendered it navigable for vessels, by means of a canal, of which ancient vestiges are said to be visible; and thus joining the Tigris a little in front of Ctesiphon, he saved his boats from one river by means of the other river, in all security; in this way he escaped the danger that menaced him from the two garrisons. But, as he advanced, a Persian army suddenly started up, and continually received fresh reinforcements, but did not think it advisable to stand in front and fight it out, without the greatest necessity (although it was in their power to conquer, from their superior numbers); but from the tops of the hills and narrow passes they shot arrows and threw darts, whenever opportunity served, and thus readily prevented his further progress. Hence he is reduced to great perplexity, and, not knowing to what side to turn, he finds out an unlucky solution for the difficulty.

    Sozomenus, Ecclesiastical History, VI, 5-8:

    As he was journeying up the Euphrates, he arrived at Ctesiphon, a very large city, whither the Persian monarchs had now transferred their residence from Babylon. The Tigris flows near this spot. As he was prevented from reaching the city with his ships, by a part of the land which separated it from the river, he judged that either he must pursue his journey by water, or quit his ships and go to Ctesiphon by land; and he interrogated the prisoners on the subject. Having ascertained from them that there was a canal which had been blocked up in the course of time, he caused it to be cleared out, and, having thus effected a communication between the Euphrates and the Tigris, he proceeded towards the city, his ships floating along by the side of his army. But the Persians appeared on the banks of the Tigris with a formidable display of horse and many armed troops, of elephants, and of horses; and Julian became conscious that his army was besieged between two great rivers, and was in danger of perishing, either by remaining in its present position, or by retreating through the cities and villages which he had so utterly devastated that no provisions were obtainable; therefore he summoned the soldiers to see horse-races, and proposed rewards to the fleetest racers. In the meantime he commanded the officers of the ships to throw over the provisions and baggage of the army, so that the soldiers, I suppose, seeing themselves in danger by the lack of necessary provisions, might turn about boldly and fight their enemies more desperately. After supper he sent for the generals and tribunes and commanded the embarkation of the troops. They sailed along the Tigris during the night and came at once to the opposite banks and disembarked; but their departure was perceived by some of the Persians, who defended themselves and encouraged one another, but those still asleep the Romans readily overcame. At daybreak, the two armies engaged in battle; and after much bloodshed on both sides, the Romans returned by the river, and encamped near Ctesiphon.

    Zosimus, New History, III, 24-25:

    Soon after his execution, the army marched to Arintheus, and searching all the marshes found in them many people whom they made prisoners. Here it was that the Persians first collected their forces and attacked the advanced party of the Roman army. They were however routed and preserved their lives by flying to a neighboring city. The Persians on the other side of the river attacked the slaves who had the care of the beasts of burden, and those who guarded them; they killed part of them and made the rest prisoners. This being the first loss which the Romans had sustained occasioned some consternation in the army.
    They advanced to a very broad sluice or channel, said by the country people to have been cut by Trajan, when he made an expedition into Persia. In this channel runs the river Narmalaches and discharges itself into the Tigris. The emperor caused it to be cleansed, in order to enable his vessels to pass through it into the Tigris, and constructed bridges over it for the passage of his army.
    While this was in agitation, a great force of Persians, both horse and foot, was collected on the opposite bank, to prevent their passage should it be attempted. The emperor, discerning these preparations of the enemy, was anxious to cross over to them, and hastily commanded his troops to go on board the vessels.
    Perceiving, however, the opposite bank to be unusually lofty, and a kind of fence at the top of it, which formerly served as an enclosure to the king's garden, but at this time was a rampart, they exclaimed that they were afraid of the fire-balls and darts that were thrown down. The emperor, however, being very resolute, two barges crossed over full of foot soldiers, which the Persians immediately set on fire by throwing down on them a great number of flaming darts.
    This so increased the terror of the army, that the emperor was obliged to conceal his error by a feint, saying, "They are landed and have rendered themselves masters of the bank. I know it by the fire in their ships, which I ordered them to make as a signal of victory."
    He had no sooner said this, than without further preparations they embarked in the ships and crossed over, until they arrived where they could ford the river, and then leaping into the water, they engaged the Persians so fiercely, that they not only gained possession of the bank, but recovered the two ships which came over first, and were now half burnt, and saved all the men who were left in them.
    The armies then attacked each other with such fury, that the battle continued from midnight to noon of the next day. The Persians at length gave way, and fled with all the speed they could use, their commanders being the first who began to fly. Those were Pigraxes, a person of the highest birth and rank next to the king, Anareus, and Surena.
    The Romans and Goths pursued them, and killed a great number, from whom they took a vast quantity of gold and silver, besides ornaments of all kinds for men and horses, with silver beds and tables, and whatever was left by the officers on the ramparts.
    It is computed, that in this battle there fell of the Persians two thousand five hundred, and of the Romans not more than seventy-five. The joy of the army for this victory was lessened by Victor having received a wound from an engine.

    The accounts by Ammianus and Zosimus are the most complete ones, and they mostly agree on broad terms. What they describe is a bold crossing of the Tigris by the Roman army in successive assault waves against a Sasanian army massed on the opposite bank, and deployed in a classic Sasanian battle order: a first line formed by heavy cavalry (savārān) a second line of infantry massed in closed ranks and lastly a line of war elephants (presumably to act as regrouping points for the infantry if it was routed by the Romans, to cover a retreat if necessary and to offer a good shooting platform to Sasanian bowmen given the height advantage offered by these animals; and finally perhaps also to ensure the infantry kept up its fighting spirit, or else).

    As it was a purely frontal battle without any possibility for maneuvering, this was the sort of combat in which the Roman infantry excelled, and it’s noteworthy that the Sasanian forces were able to put up such a long fight. Notice that this was still not Šābuhr II’s main army, but merely the cavalry screen of Sūrēn (one of the Sasanian commanders in the battle) alongside with local forces, probably drawn from the garrisons of the twin cities. Nothing is known about the other two Sasanian commanders, Pigranes (“Pigraxes” in Zosimus) and Narseus (“Anareus” in Zosimus; Middle Persian Narsē); who were perhaps the military governors (marzbānan) of the twin cities. This time, Julian’s audacity and boldness (and sheer luck) served him well, and his night amphibious assault was victorious, although his strategic situation had not improved in the slightest.

    Eu-T-13-Spahbed-On-Horse-Kontos.jpg

    The British reenactor Nadeem Ahmad from the reenacting group “Eran ud Turan” in the full garb of a Sasanian spāhbed.

    It’s now when Julian had to cope with the reality of his strategic position: he’d won several tactical victories but he still found himself in a position that could at the very best be described as a strategic stalemate, and which was bound to worsen with every passing day. The army encamped, but apparently Julian didn’t even consider seriously to start a formal siege of Ctesiphon, instead he took a decision that all the ancient sources criticize strongly, and which according to them was the reason for the final failure of the campaign. Some of the sources (mostly Christian ones) attribute it to Julian being fooled by a devious “Persian” trick (a common place when dealing with easterners in classical authors: they were deceitful, devious, etc.). According to Libanius (Oration XVIII, 257-259) and Socrates of Constantinople (Ecclesiastical History, III, 21, 4–8) Julian rejected peace overtures from Šābuhr II. Ammianus says nothing of the sort; he only wrote that a council of war was held (at a place called Abuzatha by Zosimus; scholars have been unable to find this location, judging from the context of the narrative, it must’ve been located east of Ctesiphon) and a decision to march inland was made (probably on 5 June). These are the sources:

    Ammianus Marcellinus: Res Gestae Libri XXXI, XXIV, 7, 1–3:

    Having held council with his most distinguished generals about the siege of Ctesiphon, the opinion of some was adopted, who felt sure that the undertaking was rash and untimely, since the city, impregnable by its situation alone, was well defended; and, besides, it was believed that the king would soon appear with a formidable force. So the better opinion prevailed, and the most careful of emperors, recognizing its advantage, sent Arintheus with a band of light-armed infantry, to lay waste the surrounding country, which was rich in herds and crops; Arintheus was also bidden, with equal energy to pursue the enemy, who had been lately scattered and concealed by impenetrable by-paths and their familiar hiding-places. But Julian, ever driven on by his eager ambitions, made light of words of warning, and upbraiding his generals for urging him through cowardice and love of ease to lose his hold on the Persian kingdom, which he had already all but won; with the river on his left and with ill-omened guides leading the way, resolved to march rapidly into the interior.

    Zosimus: New History, III, 26, 1:

    Upon the following day the emperor sent his army over the Tigris without difficulty, and the third day after the action he himself with his guards followed them. Arriving at a place by the Persians termed Abuzatha, he halted there five days.

    Libanius, Oration XVIII, 261:

    Nevertheless, this man (i.e. Julian) though invited to peace, went up to the walls (of Ctesiphon) and challenged the besieged to battle, saying that what they were doing was fit for women, but what they shunned for men. On their replying that he must seek out the king, and show himself to him, he was anxious to see and pass through Arbela, either without a battle, or after fighting a battle; so that in company with Alexander's victory at that place his own might become the theme of song. His intention was to traverse all the land which the Persian empire comprises; even more, the adjacent regions also; but he retreated because no reinforcements came to him, neither of his own side, nor from his ally: the latter through the false play of the prince of that nation; whilst the second army, according to report, because some of their men had been shot at the very beginning whilst bathing in the Tigris, had thought it better worth their while to wage war on the natives. Add to this, the quarrelling of the generals with one another had bred cowardice in those under their command; for whenever the one leader was gaining victories, the other, by recommending inaction, gave advice that pleased his men.
    This state of things, however, did not discourage the emperor; he did not approve of their being absent, yet he proceeded as he had planned to do if they had joined him, and extended his views as far as Hyrcania and the rivers of India.

    Eunapius of Sardes, fragments 22.3 and 27:

    (He says) that the war against the Persians reached its peak under Julian and that either by invoking the gods or by calculation he comprehended from afar the disturbances of the Scythians, like waves on a smooth sea. Thereupon he says to someone in a letter, ‘The Scythians are now lying quiet, equally, they will not do so in the future’. His forethought for the future extended over such a period that he knew in advance that they would remain
    quiet only for his own time.
    (He says) that Julian, having previously revealed the plain before Ctesiphon as an orchestra for war, as Epaminondas said, now paraded it as a stage for Dionysus, providing relaxation and amusement for the troops.
    (He says) that there was such an abundance of the provisions in the suburbs of Ctesiphon that the overriding danger faced by the troops was that of being destroyed by luxury.
    (He says) that mankind, besides, seems generally inclined towards and readily given over to envy. And since the troops have no means of taking sides fairly about what is done, “From the tower”, they say, “they judged the Achaeans”, each one of them desirous of being versed in military matters and possessed of more than usual good sense. To some, then, any matter was the subject of foolishness, but he who followed the arguments right from the beginning went back to his own domain (…).


    There is an oracle which was given to him while he was waiting at Ctesiphon: Zeus, the all-wise, once destroyed a race of Earth-born giants most hateful to the blessed ones who dwell in the Olympian halls. Julian the godlike, Emperor of the Romans, contending for the cities and long walls of the Persians, fighting hand-to-hand, destroyed them with fire and the valiant sword, subdued without pause their cities and many races. Seizing also, with heavy fighting, the German soil of those people of the west he laid waste their land.

    John Zonaras, Extracts of History, XIII, 13, 10:

    Some, therefore, say that Julian was deceived in this way. Others say he gave up the siege of Ctesiphon because of its strength and, since the army was running out of necessities, he considered returning (…)

    Notice that for the first time Ammianus mentions the fear that Šābuhr II was approaching with the main Sasanian army. At this moment, Julian took the controversial decision of burning his transport fleet (Dodgeon and Lieu date it to the timeframe between 11–15 June). These are the sources reporting on Julian’s decision:

    Ammianus Marcellinus: Res Gestae Libri XXXI, XXIV, 7, 3–5:

    But Julian, ever driven on by his eager ambitions, made light of words of warning, and upbraiding his generals for urging him through cowardice and love of ease to lose his hold on the Persian kingdom, which he had already all but won; with the river on his left and with ill-omened guides leading the way, resolved to march rapidly into the interior. And it seemed as if Bellona herself lighted the fire with fatal torch, when he gave orders that all the ships should be burned, with the exception of twelve of the smaller ones, which he decided to transport on wagons as helpful for making bridges. And he thought that this plan had the advantage that the fleet, if abandoned, could not be used by the enemy, or at any rate, that nearly 20,000 soldiers would not be employed in transporting and guiding the ships, as had been the case since the beginning of the campaign.

    Zosimus: New History, III; 26, 2–3:

    Meanwhile he consulted about his journey forward and found that it was better to march further into the country than to lead his army by the side of the river. There being now no necessity to proceed by water. Having considered this, he imparted it to his army, whom he commanded to burn the ships, which accordingly were all consumed, except eighteen Roman and four Persian vessels, which were carried along in wagons, to be used upon occasion. Their route now lying a little above the river, when they arrived at a place called Noorda they halted, and there killed and took a great number of Persians.

    Libanius: Oration XVIII, 262–3:

    But when the army was already on the move in that direction, and part was actually marching off, the other part collecting the baggage, some god diverts him from his first scheme, and, as the poet hath it, "warned him to think of his return." The flotilla, according to his original design, had been given for prey to the flames; for better so than to the enemy. The same thing would probably have been done, even though the former plan (of advancing) had never been contemplated; but that of returning had carried the day; because the Tigris, swift and strong, running counter to the prows of the boats, forced them to require a vast number of hands (to tow them up the stream); and it was necessary for those engaged in towing to be more than half the army; this meant that the fighting men were to be beaten, and after them everything else was gained by the enemy without fighting for it. Besides all this, the burning of the fleet removed every encouragement to laziness, for whoever wished to do nothing, by feigning sickness obtained conveyance in a boat; but when there were no vessels, every man was under arms. Since therefore it was impossible, however much they wished it, to keep so many vessels, it was decided not to be expedient even to retain those that had been saved (they were fifteen in number, reserved for making bridges); for the stream being too violent for the skill of the boatmen, and the multitude of hands, used to carry the boat with those embarked therein into the hands of the enemy; so that if it behooves the side that is injured to complain of the conflagration, it will be the Persian that has to grumble; and full often, they say, he did complain.

    Ephraim the Syrian: Hymns against Julian, III, 15:

    The king saw that the sons of the East had come and deceived
    him,
    the unlearned (had deceived) the wise man, the simple the
    soohsayer.
    They whom he had called, wrapped up in his robe,
    had, through unlearned men, mastered his wisdom.
    He commanded and burned his victorious ships,
    and his idols and diviners were bound through the one deceit
    .

    Gregory of Nazianzus: Oration V, 11–12:

    A Persian of considerable standing, following the example of that Zopyrus employed by Cyrus in the case of Babylon, then pretended that he had had some quarrel, or rather a very great one and for a very great cause, with his king, and was on that account very hostile to the Persian cause, and well-disposed towards the Romans. He gained the emperor’s confidence through his pretense as follows: “Your Highness, what means all this, why are there so many shortcomings in so important an enterprise? What need is there of this provision fleet, this superfluous burden; a mere incentive to cowardice; for nothing is so unfit for fighting, and fond of laziness, as a full belly, and the having the means of saving oneself in one’s own hands? But if you will listen to me, you will burn this flotilla: what a relief to this fine army will be the result! You yourself will take another route, better supplied and safer than this; along which I will be your guide (being acquainted with the country as well as any man living), and will cause you to enter into the heart of the enemy’s country, where you can obtain whatever you please, and so make your way home; and me you shall then recompense, when you have actually ascertained my good will and sound advice”.
    And when he had said this and gained credence to his story (for rashness is credulous, especially when God goads it on), everything went wrong at once. The boats became the prey of the flames. They were low on victuals.
    Everywhere there was ridicule, and the whole venture resembled a suicide attempt. Hope vanished when the guide disappeared along with his promises. They were surrounded by the enemy and battle waged on all sides. It was difficult to advance and provisions were not easy to procure. In despair, the army became disenchanted with their commander. There was no hope for safety left, but one wish alone, as was natural under the circumstances, the ridding themselves of bad government and bad generalship.

    Sozomenus: Ecclesiastical History, VI, 1, 9:

    The emperor, being no longer desirous of proceeding further but wishing only to return to the (i.e. Roman) empire, burnt his vessels, as he considered that they required too many soldiers to guard them; and he then commenced his retreat along the Tigris, which was to his left. The prisoners, who acted as guides to the Romans, led them to a fertile country where at first they found an abundance of provisions.

    Theodoret of Cyrrhus: Ecclesiastical History, III, 25, 1,

    Julian’s folly was yet more clearly manifested by his death. He crossed the river that separates the Roman Empire from the Persian, brought over his army, and then forthwith burnt his boats, so making his men fight not in willing, but in forced obedience.

    Festus: Breviarium 28:

    After winning such great glory, when he received a warning from his retinue concerning the return, he put greater trust in his own purpose and burnt his fleet. He was misled by a deserter who had surrendered for the purpose of leading him astray and was induced to follow a direct route to Madaeana (perhaps Media?).

    John Zonaras: Extracts of History, XIII, 13, 2–9:

    Then suddenly affairs turned to the worse for him and he and the majority of his army perished. For the Persians in despair decided to rush headlong into destruction in order to do something really terrible to the Romans. Therefore, two men in the guise of deserters hurried to the Emperor and promised him victory over the Persians if he followed them. They advised him to leave the river and burn the galleys he had brought along with the other cargo vessels, so that the enemy could not use them, while they would lead his army to safety through a different way. It would quickly and safely reach the inner parts of Persia and conquer it with ease. The wicked man in his derangement believed them although many told him, and even Hormisdas himself, that it was a trap. But he set fire to his ships and burnt them all except twelve. There were seven hundred galleys and four hundred cargo vessels. After they had been completely burnt, when many of the tribunes objected that what was said by the deserters was a trap and a trick, he reluctantly agreed to examine the false deserters. Questioned under torture, they disclosed their conspiracy.

    Some ancient sources put forward the theory that Julian was led astray by one or more Sasanian double agents (Gregory of Nazianzus, Ephraim the Syrian, Festus, Socrates of Constantinople, Sozomenus, Philostorgius, John Malalas, the anonymous Passion of Artemius, and John Zonaras). But in my opinion it’s unnecessary to resort to such novelesque tales to explain Julian’s decision. If he was marching “inland” and possibly along the Diyala River, the fleet would’ve been useless. But even in case of a retreat to the north, the fleet would’ve been mostly an encumbrance due to a simple reason: upstream from Ctesiphon (near present-day Baghdad), the topographical incline of the Tigris riverbed becomes too steep to allow navigation if it’s not with engine-propelled boats or by pulling the boats from the banks (as Libanius correctly stated). Considering that by now a good part of the supplies carried by the fleet would’ve been consumed anyway, at least part of the boats would’ve been empty and so pulling them would’ve been completely useless. And in the case that (as Syvänne and Dodgeon & Lieu assume), the Roman fleet had reached the Tigris downstream from Ctesiphon / Vēh-Ardaxšīr, pulling it past the twin cities would’ve been simply impossible. Still, as almost all the sources (even Ammianus, who was present there) sharply criticize Julian’s decision, it’s to be assumed that the fleet still carried supplies, that now would have to be carried by the pack animals of the army. It’s now when the reason for the attacks of Suren’s cavalry against the pack animals of the army and against its foraging parties became sharply evident: the army simply lacked enough pack animals to carry all the supplies. And possibly it would have also lacked enough of them to pull the fleet upstream, unless Julian used part of his manpower to pull the boats (indeed, both Ammianus and Libanius name this as the reason for Julian’s decision).

    A second council of war was held (at Noorda according to Zosimus, perhaps modern Djsir Nahrawan near the
    river Tamarra) and the decision to head for Corduene (roughly modern Iraqi Kurdistan) rather than to return via Āsūrestān was agreed upon (or imposed by Julian). The army struck camp on 16 June and marched due north towards the river Douros (considered by most scholars to be the Diyala River). Let’s see Ammianus’ account:

    Ammianus Marcellinus (Res Gestae Libri XXXI, XXIV, 8, 2-6):

    After these words the prisoners were led away, and a council was held to discuss the situation. And after much interchange of opinion, the inexperienced mob crying that we must return by the way we had come, and the emperor steadfastly opposing them, while he and many others pointed out that it was out of the question to go back through a flat country of wide extent where all the fodder and crops had been destroyed, and where what remained of the burnt villages was hideous from the utmost destitution; moreover, since the frosts of winter were now melting the whole soil was soaked, and the streams had passed the bounds of their banks and becoming raging torrents. Still another difficulty faced the undertaking, in that in those lands heated by the sun's rays, every place is filled with such swarms of flies and gnats that their flight hides the light of day and the sight of the stars that twinkle at night. And since human wisdom availed nothing, after long wavering and hesitation we built altars and slew victims, in order to learn the purpose of the gods, whether they advised us to return through Assyria, or to march slowly along the foot of the mountains and unexpectedly lay waste Chiliocomum, situated near Corduena; but on inspection of the organs it was announced that neither course would suit the signs. Nevertheless, it was decided, since all hope of anything better was cut off, to seize upon Corduena. Accordingly, on the sixteenth day of June, camp was broken, and the emperor was on his way at break of day, when smoke or a great whirling cloud of dust was seen; so that one was led to think that it was herds of wild asses, of which there is a countless number in those regions, and that they were travelling together so that pressed body to body they might foil the fierce attacks of lions. Some believed that Arsaces (i.e. the Armenian king) and our generals (i.e. Sebastianus and Procopius) were coming at last, aroused by the reports that the emperor was besieging Ctesiphon with great forces; and some declared that the Persians had waylaid us.

    Notice the chronology, as reconstructed by Dodgeon & Lieu: the Roman army started its invasion (crossing of the Khabur river) on April 4, and the battle of Ctesiphon happened shortly after May 16. In a month and a half, the Roman army had conducted a “lightning” invasion, took two major fortified Sasanian towns/cities (Pērōz-Šābuhr and Maiozamalcha) and reached the enemy capital. But then, this rapid pace of events stagnates; by June 5 Julian decides to “march inland” and between June 11-15 the Roman fleet is burnt and the army departs the environs of Ctesiphon. It seems, according to Ammianus’ account (and the same is suggested by some of the other accounts too) that Julian and his generals really didn’t know what to do. Harrel proposed that Julian’s decision to follow the Diyala River upstream (if that’s in effect the Douros of the classical sources) was an attempt to invade the Iranian Plateau itself: the valley of this river is the main pass across the Zagros, and it leads directly to Ecbatana / Hamadān. This would be a move beyond rash even for a commander given to bold moves like Julian; and Harrel suggests that it was perhaps a way to try to force a decisive field battle against Šābuhr II’s main army. Syvänne, although very critical of Julian’s abilities as a commander, thinks that this was a move merely dictated by geography and that Julian intended indeed to retreat northwards as swiftly as possible. This is also perfectly reasonable: if we look at a map, we can see that the Diyala River joins the Tigris a few km. upstream from Ctesiphon, and so if the Roman army was retreating north along the eastern bank of the Tigris, it would need to find a bridge or a ford to cross it; that justifies perfectly following the river upstream until some crossing point was found.

    The decision to retreat along the eastern bank of the Tigris is also a rational one and resorting to elaborate conspiracy theories is unnecessary to explain Julian’s decision. As Libanius points out, the route the army had followed from the Roman border couldn’t be followed now, as the invaders had destroyed all the fields and harvests. Upstream from Ctesiphon, the western bank of the Tigris is mostly barren land (steppe or desert) as it can’t be irrigated by gravity, but the eastern bank is crossed by several rivers that descend from the Zagros Mountains (the Diyala, the Greater Zab and the Little Zab) that allow for the existence of irrigated agriculture, and most importantly: its fields and orchards had not been devastated still by the invading army.

    Iraq-i-Figure-1.jpg

    Map of Sasanian Mesopotamia. Notice the course of the Diyala River and its confluence with the Tigris upstream from Ctesiphon.

    Another factor that could have influenced Julian’s decision is the possibility to join forces with the Roman army of Sebastianus and Procopius (which should’ve invaded Media or at least Adiabene / Nodšēragān but which had done nothing at all) or the Armenian army, which apparently had managed to invade Media; that could’ve been a factor in the initial march upstream the Diyala River towards Media (Chiliocomum was the classical name for the Nisaean Plain around Ecbatana / Hamadān). But, for one reason or another, neither of these armies joined forces with Julian.

    And anyway, between Julian’s army and them (and a safe passage back towards Roman territory) now stood Šābuhr II with his main army, blocking his way.
     
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    8.10 THE ROMAN RETREAT, THE DEATH OF JULIAN AND THE SECOND PEACE OF NISIBIS.
  • 8.10 THE ROMAN RETREAT, THE DEATH OF JULIAN AND THE SECOND PEACE OF NISIBIS.


    (NOTE: I forgot to specify in previous chapters that all the dates provided by Ammianus follow the Julian calendar.)

    We can’t know for sure what did Julian imagine when he ordered his retreat / march up the Diyala River, but he must’ve soon realized that the Šahān Šāh was not going to make things easy for him. The Roman army was now isolated deep into enemy territory, with supplies running dangerously low, and with three rivers (plus the Tigris) between it and the safety of the fortresses of Roman Mesopotamia. All the sources (even those favorable to Julian) agree that the retreat became a veritable Via Crucis for the Roman forces, hampered by heat (it was now late June in Mesopotamia), hunger (the Sasanians had begun to apply a scorched earth policy), thirst and constant attacks by the Sasanian cavalry. The Roman army managed to cross the Douros against strong Sasanian opposition. These are the sources:

    Ammianus Marcellinus: Res Gestae Libri XXXI, XXV,1, 1–3:
    Now this night, which was lighted by the gleam of no stars, we passed as is usual in difficult and doubtful circumstances, as fear prevented anyone from daring to sit down or to close his eyes in sleep. But no sooner had the first light of day appeared, than the glittering coats of mail, girt with bands of steel, and the gleaming cuirasses, seen from afar, showed that the king's forces were at hand. Our soldiers, inflamed by this sight, since only a small stream separated them from the enemy, were in haste to attack them, but the emperor restrained them; however, a fierce fight took place not far from our very rampart between our outposts and those of the Persians, in which Machameus, general of one of our battalions, fell. His brother Maurus, later a general in Phoenicia, tried to protect him, and after cutting down the man who had killed his brother, he terrified all who came in his way, and although he was himself partly disabled by an arrow through his shoulder, by main strength he succeeded in bringing off Machameus, already pale with approaching death, from the fray.
    And when, because of the almost unendurable heat and the repeated attacks, both sides were growing weary, finally the enemy's troops were utterly routed and fled in all directions. As we withdrew from the spot, the Saracens followed us for some distance but were forced to retreat through fear of our infantry; a little later they joined with the main body of the Persians and attacked with greater safety, hoping to carry off the Romans' baggage; but on seeing the emperor they returned to the cavalry held in reserve.


    Zosimus: New History, III, 26, 4–5:
    Advancing thence to the river Durus (sic), they constructed a bridge over it for their passage. The Persians had burnt up all the forage of the country, so that the cattle of the Romans were ready to perish with hunger. They were collected into several parties awaiting the Romans, whom they imagined to be but a small number, and presently afterward uniting into one body they proceeded towards the river.
    Here, while the advanced guard engaged with a party of Persians, an enterprising man, named Macanaeus, entered among them and killed four of them. For that bold action they all fell upon him and struck him down. His brother, Maurus, upon seeing this, attempted to rescue at least his dead body from the Persians, and killed the man who had given him the first wound; nor did he desist, though frequently shot at, until he had brought off his brother and delivered him to the army still alive.

    Libanius: Oration XVIII, 264:
    In this way they marched on, drinking of the waters of the Tigris, and keeping that river on the left hand, whilst they were passing through a country more fertile than the former, so that they added to the captives whom they already had, with all confidence. But when they were at the end of the planted land, and in the middle of that bare of trees, though no less fertile, proclamation is made that they must load themselves with provisions for twenty days; for thus long was the march to the noble city which, at the same time, is the boundary of our empire. Then for the first time is beheld the battle-array of the Persians: no disorderly multitude; abundance of gold upon their armor. But when one or two of our vanguard had fallen, and when all had joined battle, neither horseman nor foot-soldier stood the shields on our side, but turned and fled, being inferior in this one branch of warfare.

    Notice that curiously, Libanius doesn’t mention the crossing of the Douros River, Zosimus mentions it and Ammianus describes it as “a small stream” (which has caused many scholars to believe this could be the Diyala River). But all three accounts agree that for the first time the Roman army clashed now with the main Sasanian army. The Roman infantry prevailed, but as it was to be expected, the Sasanian cavalry could retreat with impunity, as it usually happened in such clashes. Mention is also made by Ammianus of the “Saracen” allies of the Sasanians also joining in the harassment of the Roman army; as their forces too were formed by cavalry, they could also employ “hit and run” tactics with impunity.

    Syvänne’s description of this encounter follows closely Ammianus’ account. following Dodgeon & Lieu’s chronological restitution, he dates the encounter to June 17. The two armies were deployed with the “small stream” between them, and although the Roman soldiers wanted to attack, Julian wisely restrained them; an attack across the river could have disorganized the Roman formation and have made it vulnerable to a charge of the Sasanian savārān. Or the Sasanian cavalry could have retreated, forcing the Romans into a pursuit under the heat of the day, and then counterattack suddenly once the Roman infantry was tired enough. The roman “outposts” (the excursatores) though approached the Sasanian army to harass it and then became locked in a fierce fight that ended in a Roman defeat; all the while the main Roman force remained static, and Syvänne thinks it was probably formed in a hollow square formation, the most advisable formation for a infantry-heavy army when faced by an enemy much superior in cavalry. This inaction by the Romans finally forced the Sasanian army to attack; which (according to Syvänne) would have consisted in the standard Iranian tactic of combining “waves” of heavy cavalry and mounted archers, that would only have pressed the attack home if the Roman formation showed signs of disorder. As Ammianus says nothing of the sort, Syvänne thinks that the Roman infantry resisted the rain of arrows steadfastly and that the Sasanian forces finally abandoned the fight due to the exhaustion of men and horses combined with the heat of the day; but that the attack was then resumed by the Sasanian Arab allies, in two episodes, the second of which needed the personal presence of Julian (and his elite guard units) to force the enemy into retreat.

    Eu-T-10-Shahan-Shah.jpg

    British reenactor Nadeem Ahmad wearing the garb of a Sasanian Šahān Šāh, with a crown very similar to the one worn by Šābuhr II in his coinage.

    If we look back to the start of the invasion, we’ll see that before leaving Roman territory, Rome’s Arab foederati joined forces with Julian’s army, but later they disappear from Ammianus’ account. Syvänne thinks that they probably deserted Julian because the emperor stopped paying them subsidies, and he proposes that a reason for this stop could be Julian’s profligacy at Pērōz-Šābuhr, where he not only bribed the Sasanian defenders, but he also had to appease his troops with a second donativum (he had already handed out a first one at the crossing of the Khabur). It’s an interesting (if completely unsupported by the sources) hypothesis; the absence of the Arab foederati became painfully obvious during the Roman retreat, and if Julian did indeed make such a fragrant mistake, it’s the sort of thing that his admirers (like Ammianus, Libanius and Zosimus) would try to discard as discreetly as possible. But against it, it can also be said that the sources hostile to Julian (and there are many of them) would not have let such a shiny opportunity to drag Julian’s reputation go to waste.

    After crossing the Douros, the army kept marching eastwards (according to Dodgeon & Lieu) in the direction of Barsaphtas; the location of Hucumbra (or Symbra, identified by Ernst Herzfeld in 1948 with ‘Ukbara, about 50 km north of Baghdad; it was a city founded by Šābuhr II with the name of Wuzurg-Šābuhr) was reached on June 17. as usual, the sources are Ammianus and Zosimus, but Libanius’ account (his Oration XVIII, known as the Funeral Oration for Julian) becomes very vague after the battle on the Douros and mentions only frequent skirmishes, giving no specific details):


    Ammianus Marcellinus, Res Gestae Libri XXXI, XXV, 1, 4:
    Leaving this region we came to an estate called Hucumbra, where contrary to our expectation we refreshed ourselves for two days, procuring everything that was useful and an abundance of grain; then we moved on after immediately burning everything except such things as time allowed us to carry off.

    Zosimus, New History, III, 27, 1-2:
    Afterwards, arriving at the city of Barsaphtas, they found the forage as before burnt up by the barbarians. Perceiving a party of Persians and Saracens, who dared not even look at the Roman army, but immediately fled, the Romans were unable to judge their design, until the Persians, by collecting together into a considerable body, shewed that they had a design upon the beasts of burden.
    Upon which the emperor, who immediately armed himself, proceeded with greater expedition against them than the rest of the army. The Persians, unable to sustain the force of his charge, fled to places with which they were well acquainted. The emperor then continued his march to Symbra, which lies between two towns named Nisbara and Nishanadalba (…)

    The two accounts differ considerably; and for once Zosimus is more informative. According to Ammianus, when the Roman army reached Hucumbra, they found supplies in there (i.e. for some reason the Sasanians had not implemented scorched earth policies in this location) and the Roman army stopped in there for two days to rest and (presumably) to forage. Zosimus tells us that after reaching Barsaphtas they found supplies left unburned by the enemy, but that the beasts of burden of the Roman army were attacked by the enemy cavalry; which confirms, as Syvänne points out, that the repeated attacks similar to this one against the Roman pack animals since before the battle of Ctesiphon were part of a deliberate Sasanian strategy. Again, the Sasanian attackers dispersed once the Romans counterattacked.

    On June 20, the army resumed its march; at this point, the Romans began to suffer from shortage of supplies as the effects of the scorched earth policy of the Sasanians were becoming apparent:

    Ammianus Marcellinus, Res Gestae Libri XXXI, XXV, 1, 10:
    We then advanced for seventy stadia, while every kind of supplies grew less, since the grass and grain had been burned and every man had to snatch from the very flames whatever produce and fodder he could carry.

    Zosimus, New History, III, 26, 4:
    Advancing thence to the river Durus (sic), they constructed a bridge over it for their passage. The Persians had burnt up all the forage of the country, so that the cattle of the Romans were ready to perish with hunger. They were collected into several parties awaiting the Romans, whom they imagined to be but a small number, and presently afterward uniting into one body they proceeded towards the river.

    John Chrysostom, Homily upon Saint Babylas against Julian and the Heathens XXII/122:
    For in fact Julian, at the head of an army whose numbers had never been surpassed under any previous emperor, was fully expecting to overrun the whole of Persia on the spur of the moment, as it were, and without any effort. However, he fared as wretchedly and pitiably as if he was accompanied by an army of women and young children rather than men. For one thing, he brought them to such a pitch of desperation through shortage of provisions that they were reduced to consuming some of their cavalry horses and slaughtering others as they wasted away of hunger and thirst. You would have thought Julian was in league with the Persians, anxious not to defeat them but to surrender his own forces, for he had led them into such a barren and inhospitable region that he in fact surrendered without being defeated.

    Theodoret of Cyrrhus, Ecclesiastical History, III, 25, 4:
    His soldiers had not enough to eat and drink; they were without guides; they were marching astray in a desert land. Thus, they saw the folly of their most wise emperor.

    John Zonaras, Extracts of History, XIII, 13, 13–14:
    However, the Romans were hard-pressed by lack of necessities, so Julian, uncertain as to what he should do and from where he ought to return, chose to make the journey through the mountains.

    Libanius however in his Oration XVIII said nothing about the Roman army suffering from a scarcity of supplies. The army continued its march up the right bank of the Tigris, passing Danabe, Synce and Accete (all three unidentified locations). In between Danabe and Synce the Sasanians raided the Roman column and lost Adaces (or Daces, according to Zosimus), a distinguished “satrap”, in the combat. Sources:


    Ammianus Marcellinus, Res Gestae Libri XXXI, XXV, 1, 5–6:
    On the following day, as the army was advancing more quietly, the Persians unexpectedly attacked the last division, which on that day chanced to have the duty of bringing up the rear, and would have slain them with little trouble, had not our cavalry, who were nearby, quickly noticed this, and, spreading widely over the open valleys, prevented so great a disaster, inflicting wounds on those who came up with them. In this battle Adaces, a distinguished satrap, fell; he had once been sent as an envoy to the emperor Constantius and kindly received. The man who killed him brought his armor to Julianus and received the reward which he deserved.

    Zosimus, New History, III, 27, 4:
    From thence they proceeded to a place between the cities of Danabe and Synca, where the Persians attacked the rear of the army and killed a great number. Their own loss, however, greatly exceeding that of the Romans, and having the disadvantage from many causes, they fled. In this engagement, Daces, a great satrap, was killed. He had formerly been sent on an embassy to the emperor Constantius with proposals of peace.

    Although both Ammianus and Zosimus give only a very brief account of this encounter, Syvänne thinks it was a serious attack, as both sources state clearly that the Roman rearguard was almost overwhelmed, and only the intervention of the Roman cavalry prevented a rout of this part of the Roman column. According to Ammianus, Julian proceeded to punish a cavalry unit, the Numerus Tertiaci, for having been the first to flee in front of the Sasanian attack, endangering the whole rearguard. He had their cavalry lances broken and their standards taken from them and ordered the men to follow on foot with the servants of the camp. The only one scathed was its tribune, whom Julian considered to have fought valiantly. On June 20, the Roman army reached Accete (location unknown) and it again found all the crops burnt:

    Zosimus, New History, III, 28, 1:
    The enemy, upon seeing that the Romans approached a town called Accete, burnt all the produce of the country; but the Romans hastened and, extinguishing the fire, took what they could save for their own use.

    On May 22, as the Roman column passed through a district called Maranga (or Maronsa according to Zosimus; identified by Ernst Herzfeld in 1948 with Tell-Hir in Iraq, about 54 km from the modern city of Samarra.), the Sasanian army attacked again the Roman column, but once more the Romans managed to repeal the attack:

    Ammianus Marcellinus, Res Gestae Libri XXXI, XXV, 1, 11–19:
    Leaving this place as well, the whole army had come to a district called Maranga, when near daybreak a huge force of Persians appeared with Merena, general of their cavalry, two sons of the king, and many other magnates. Moreover, all the companies were clad in iron, and all parts of their bodies were covered with thick plates, so fitted that the stiff joints conformed with those of their limbs; and the forms of human faces were so skillfully fitted to their heads, that, since their entire bodies were plated with metal, arrows that fell upon them could lodge only where they could see a little through tiny openings fitted to the circle of the eye, or where through the tips of their noses they were able to get a little breath. Of these some, who were armed with pikes, stood so motionless that you would think them held fast by clamps of bronze. Hard by, the archers (for that nation has especially trusted in this art from the very cradle) were bending their flexible bows with such wide-stretched arms that the strings touched their right breasts, while the arrow-points were close to their left hands; and by a highly skillful stroke of the fingers the arrows flew hissing forth and brought with them deadly wounds. Behind them the gleaming elephants, with their awful figures and savage, gaping mouths could scarcely be endured by the faint-hearted; and their trumpeting, their odor, and their strange aspect alarmed the horses still more. Seated upon these, their drivers carried knives with handles bound to their right hands, remembering the disaster suffered at Nisibis; and if the strength of the driver proved no match for the excited brute, that he might not turn upon his own people (as happened then) and crush masses of them to the ground, he would with a mighty stroke cut through the vertebra which separates the head from the neck. For long ago Hasdrubal, brother of Hannibal, discovered that in that way brutes of this kind could quickly be killed. Although these sights caused no little fear, the emperor, guarded by troops of armed men and with his trustworthy generals, full of confidence, as the great and dangerous power of the enemy demanded, drew up his soldiers in the form of a crescent with curving wings to meet the enemy. And in order that the onset of the bowmen might not throw our ranks into confusion, he advanced at a swift pace, and so ruined the effectiveness of the arrows. Then the usual signal for battle was given, and the Roman infantry in close order with mighty effort drove the serried ranks of the enemy before them. And in the heat of the combat that followed, the clash of shields, the shouts of the men, and the doleful sound of the whirring arrows continued without intermission. The plains were covered with blood and dead bodies, but the Persian losses were greater; for they often lacked endurance in battle and could with difficulty maintain a close contest man to man, since they were accustomed to fight bravely at long range, but if they perceived that their forces were giving way, as they retreated they would shoot their arrows back like a shower of rain and keep the enemy from a bold pursuit. So by the weight of great strength the Parthians were driven back, and when the signal for retreat was given in the usual manner, our soldiers, long wearied by the fiery course of the sun, returned to their tents, encouraged to dare greater deeds of valor in the future.
    In this battle (as was said) the loss of the Persians was clearly the greater, while that of our men was very slight. But noteworthy among the various calamities of the combats was the death of Vetranio, a valiant fighter, who commanded the legion of the Zianni.

    Zosimus, New History, III, 28, 2:
    In their march from this place they came to a town called Maronsa, where the Persians again attacked the rear-guard, and killed amongst others Vetranio, the captain of a troop, and a brave soldier. They also took several ships, which fell into their power by being considerably behind the army.

    As we can see by Ammianus’ description, this was clearly the most serious attack the Roman army had endured to this point. It happened on June 23 (the day after the Romans reached Accete), and Syvänne attempts a reconstruction of the battle according to Ammianus’ account. First, Syvänne assumes that the Sasanian force was blocking the Roman retreat, and that this was what forced Julian to attack (which goes contrary to Zosimus’ account; according to whom the Sasanians attacked again the rearguard). The Sasanian commander according to Syvänne would’ve been the Ērān-spāhbed (the higher rank in the army after the king), with Merena being a corruption of the Middle Persian Mihrān, which was one of the great families of the Iranian wuzurgān. He was accompanied according to Ammianus by two of the sons of the Šahān Šāh, and his army was formed entirely by an elite force of armored cavalry (savārān) and elephants. According to Ammianus, these armored cavalrymen were partly armed with cavalry lances (“pikes”) and partly with bows, with the cavalry in front of the elephants, in a classical Sasanian battle array. I have no idea where he gets this idea, but Syvänne thinks that the Sasanian army would’ve been organized in five corps of 6,000 men each (it’s a formation that exists in later Arabic and New Persian treatises and which is described as “having been used by the ancient Persians” but I’ve found nothing in Ammianus or in Zosimus to suggest that it was being used in this battle). Despite its lack of support in the sources, Syvänne’s reconstruction makes sense if we consider Julian’s actions. A cavalry army of 30,000 men deployed in a line would’ve been long enough to outflank easily the Roman army if it had attacked in a phalanx or linear formation, so Julian, showing he was a good tactician, deployed his army in a convex formation to deny the wings of his army to the Sasanian cavalry (and probably posting the Roman cavalry at both ends of the convex semicircle for good measure and attacked the Sasanian battle array at a quick pace, to shorten the time his soldiers would’ve been exposed to the superior Sasanian archery, forcing the Sasanians into the sorts of hand-to-hand close combat the Romans preferred. Julian’s tactics worked, and according to Ammianus the Romans won the encounter with light losses.

    MARANGA.jpg

    Reconstruction of the battle of Maranga according to Ilkka Syvänne (Military History of Late Rome 361-395).

    Despite this success, Zosimus furnishes an important detail: the Sasanians managed to capture some of the boats that the Romans still kept, as they were lagging behind the army. This was probably due to the fact that they had to be towed against the current of the river (quite strong in this part of its course), but it was a small disaster for the Romans, who were already desperately short of supplies and beasts of burden. A truce of three days was agreed upon after the battle, while the Roman army’s supply situation worsened:

    Ammianus Marcellinus, Res Gestae Libri XXXI, XXV, 2, 1:
    After this three days were devoted to a truce, while each man gave attention to his own wound or his neighbor’s, but since we were without supplies we were tormented by hunger that was already unendurable; and because grain and fodder had everywhere been burned, and both men and animals experienced extreme danger, a great part of the food which the pack-animals of the tribunes and generals carried was distributed even to the lowest soldiers, who were in dire want.

    The Romans continued their march northwards along the eastern bank of the Tigris, and on June 25 reached Toummara (according to Ammianus; location unidentified, although François Paschoud located it “not far south of Samarra”) after an exhausting march, during which the Romans regretted the earlier decision to burn the fleet:

    Zosimus, New History, III, 28, 3:
    The Romans from thence passed hastily along by some villages and arrived at a place called Tummara (sic). Here they regretted the burning of their ships; for the cattle were so exhausted with the fatigue of travelling in an enemy's country, that they were not able to carry all the necessaries; and the Persians collected all the provender they could, and stored it in their strongest fortresses that it might not fall into the hands of the Romans. When they were thus situated they perceived the Persian army, with which they engaged, and having considerably the advantage, they killed a great number of Persians.

    At Toummara, the Roman army was again attacked by the main Sasanian army, and although once more the Romans were able to repeal the attack, the Sasanian assault almost succeeded, and more importantly: Julian was mortally wounded in the fight and died shortly afterwards. The sources report it thus:

    Ammianus Marcellinus, Res Gestae Libri XXXI, XXV, 3:
    When we marched on from this place, the Persians, since their frequent losses made them dread regular battles with the infantry, laid ambuscades, and secretly attended us, from the high hills on both sides watching our companies as they marched, so that the soldiers, suspicious of this, all day long neither raised a palisade nor fortified themselves with stakes. And while the flanks were strongly protected and the army, as the nature of the ground made necessary, advanced in square formation, but with the battalions in open order, it was reported to the emperor, who even then unarmed had gone forward to reconnoiter, that the rear guard had suddenly been attacked from behind. Excited by the misfortune, he forgot his coat-of‑mail, and merely caught up a shield in the confusion; but as he was hastening to bring aid to those in the rear, he was recalled by another danger: the news that the van, which he had just left, was just as badly off. While he was hastening to restore order there without regard to his own peril, a Parthian band of mailed cavalry on another side attacked the center companies, and quickly overflowed the left wing, which gave way, since our men could hardly endure the smell and trumpeting of the elephants, they were trying to end the battle with pikes and volleys of arrows. But while the emperor rushed hither and thither amid the foremost ranks of the combatants, and as the Persians turned in flight, they hacked at their legs and backs, and those of the elephants. Julianus, careless of his own safety, shouting and raising his hands tried to make it clear to his men that the enemy had fled in disorder, and, to rouse them to a still more furious pursuit, rushed boldly into the fight. His guards, who had scattered in their alarm, were crying to him from all sides to get clear of the mass of fugitives, as dangerous as the fall of a badly built roof, when suddenly (no one knows whence) a cavalryman's spear grazed the skin of his arm, pierced his ribs, and lodged in the lower lobe of his liver. While he was trying to pluck this out with his right hand, he felt that the sinews of his fingers were cut through on both sides by the sharp steel. Then he fell from his horse, all present hastened to the spot, he was taken to camp and given medical treatment. And soon, as the pain diminished somewhat, he ceased to fear, and fighting with great spirit against death, he called for his arms and his horse in order by his return to the fight to restore the confidence of his men, and troubling nothing about himself, to show that he was filled with great anxiety for the safety of the others; with the same vigor, though under different conditions, with which the famous leader Epaminondas, when mortally wounded at Mantinea and carried from the field, took particular care to ask for his shield. And when he saw it near him, he died of his terrible wound, happy; for he who gave up his life without fear dreaded the loss of his shield. But since Julianus's strength was not equal to his will, and he was weakened by great loss of blood, he lay still, having lost all hope for his life because, on inquiry, he learned that the place where he had fallen was called Phrygia. For he had heard that it was fate's decree that he should die there. But when the emperor had been taken to his tent, the soldiers, burning with wrath and grief, with incredible vigor rushed to avenge him, clashing their spears against their shields, resolved even to die if it should be the will of fate. And although the high clouds of dust blinded the eyes, and the burning heat weakened the activity of their limbs, yet as though discharged by the loss of their leader, without sparing themselves, they rushed upon the swords of the enemy. On the other hand, the exulting Persians sent forth such a shower of arrows that they prevented their opponents from seeing the bowmen. Before them slowly marched the elephants, which with their huge size of body and horrifying crests, struck terror into horses and men. Further off, the trampling of the combatants, the groans of the falling, the panting of the horses, and the ring of arms were heard, until finally both parties were weary of inflicting wounds and the darkness of night ended the battle. On that day fifty Persian grandees and satraps fell, besides a great number of common soldiers, and among them the distinguished generals Merena and Nohodares were slain. The boastfulness of antiquity may view with amazement the twenty battles of Marcellus in various places; it may add Sicinius Dentatus, honored with a multitude of military crowns; it may besides admire Sergius, who (they say) was wounded twenty-three times in different battles, and whose last descendant Catiline tarnished the glorious renown of these victories with an indelible stain. Yet the joy in our success was marred by sorrow. For while the fight went on everywhere after the withdrawal of the leader, the right wing of the army was exhausted, and Anatolius, at that time chief marshal of the court, was killed. Salutius, the prefect, was in extreme danger, but was saved by the help of his adjutant, and by a fortunate chance escaped death, while Phosphorius, a counselor who chanced to be at his side, was lost. Some of the court officials and soldiers, amid many dangers, took refuge in a neighboring fortress, and were able to rejoin the army only after three days.
    While all this was going on, Julianus, lying in his tent, addressed his disconsolate and sorrowful companions as follows: "Most opportunely, friends, has the time now come for me to leave this life, which I rejoice to return to Nature, at her demand, like an honorable debtor, not (as some might think) bowed down with sorrow, but having learned from the general conviction of philosophers how much happier the soul is than the body, and bearing in mind that whenever a better condition is severed from a worse, one should rejoice rather than grieve. Thinking also of this, that the gods of heaven themselves have given death to some men of the greatest virtue as their supreme reward. But this gift, I know well, was given to me, that I might not yield to great difficulties, nor ever bow down and humiliate myself; for experience teaches me that all sorrows overcome only weaklings but yield to the steadfast. I do not regret what I have done, nor does the recollection of any grave misdeed torment me; either when I was consigned to the shade and obscurity, or after I attained the Principate, I have preserved my soul, as taking its origin from relationship with the gods, stainless (in my opinion), conducting civil affairs with moderation, and making and repelling wars only after mature deliberation. And yet success and well-laid plans do not always go hand in hand, since higher powers claim for themselves the outcome of all enterprises. Considering, then, that the aim of a just rule is the welfare and security of its subjects, I was always, as you know, more inclined to peaceful measures, excluding from my conduct all license, the corrupter of deeds and of character. On the other hand, I depart rejoicing that, so often as the state, like an imperious parent, has exposed me deliberately to dangers, I have stood four-square, accustomed as I am to tread underfoot the storms of fate. And I shall not be ashamed to admit, that I learned long ago through the words of trustworthy prophecy, that I should perish by the sword. And therefore I thank the eternal power that I meet my end, not from secret plots, nor from the pain of a tedious illness, nor by the fate of a criminal, but that in the mid-career of glorious renown I have been found worthy of so noble a departure from this world. For he is justly regarded as equally weak and cowardly who desires to die when he ought not, or he who seeks to avoid death when his time has come. So much it will be enough to say, since my vital strength is failing. But as to the choice of an emperor, I am prudently silent, lest I pass over some worthy person through ignorance, or if I name some of whom I consider suitable, and perhaps another is preferred, I may expose him to extreme danger. But as an honorable foster-child of our country, I wish that a good ruler may be found to succeed me”.
    After having spoken these words in a calm tone, wishing to distribute his private property to his closer friends, as if with the last stroke of his pen, he called for Anatolius, his chief court-marshal. And when the prefect Salutius replied "He has been happy," he understood that he had been slain, and he who recently with such courage had been indifferent to his own fate, grieved deeply over that of a friend. Meanwhile, all who were present wept, whereupon even then maintaining his authority, he chided them, saying that it was unworthy to mourn for a prince who was called to union with heaven and the stars. As this made them all silent, he himself engaged with the philosophers Maximus and Priscus in an intricate discussion about the nobility of the soul. Suddenly the wound in his pierced side opened wide, the pressure of the blood checked his breath, and after a draught of cold water for which he had asked, in the gloom of midnight he passed quietly away in the thirty-second year of his age. Born in Constantinople, he was left alone in childhood by the death both of his father Constantius (who, after the decease of his brother Constantinus, met his end with many others in the strife for the succession to the throne) and of his mother Basilina, who came from an old and noble family.

    Zosimus, New History, III, 28, 4–29, 1:
    Upon the following day, about noon, the Persians drew up in a large body, and once more attacked the rear of the Roman army. The Romans, being at that time out of their ranks, were surprised and alarmed at the suddenness of the attack yet made a stout and spirited defense. The emperor, according to his custom, went around the army, encouraging them to fight with ardor.
    When by this means all were engaged, the emperor, who sometimes rode to the commanders and tribunes, and was at other times among the private soldiers, received a wound in the heat of the engagement, and was borne on a shield to his tent. He survived only till midnight. He then expired, after having nearly subverted the Persian Empire.

    Libanius, Oration XVIII, 268–74:
    Up to this point he was advancing in his career of victory, and it is a pleasure to me to speak, but thenceforth, O ye gods and genii and vicissitudes of fortune! to what a tale am I compelled! Do you wish that I should hold my tongue, and end the history with its more auspicious part? It would be to you much comfort, instead of a source of lamentation. What, then, is your decision: must we shut up, or proceed? You appear to me to be sorrow-stricken by the fact, but to crave the account of it. It is indeed necessary I should speak out and put an end to the false reports current concerning his end. For when the Persian was already reduced to despair, having been manifestly conquered, and in fear lest our troops should occupy the best places in his kingdom, and winter there; when he was choosing envoys, was counting out presents (amongst which was a crown), and intending, it is said, to send them on the following day, together with a supplication for peace, and to leave him (i.e. Julian) the arbiter of the terms: a part of the army is separated from the rest, from some troops having to resist an attack, and the others going on without perceiving it, and a brisk breeze at the same time stirring up the dust and producing a cloud, and giving cover to those who wished to commit the crime, the emperor hastened up with one attendant for the purpose of uniting the broken line, when a horseman's spear cast at him, being without armor (for he, on account, I suppose, of his being so much the stronger, did not even arm himself), passed through his arm and entered into his side. The hero fell, and seeing the blood pouring forth, but wishing to conceal the disaster, remounted his horse, when, as the blood betrayed the wound, he kept crying out to those he successively met "not to be alarmed at his hurt, for that it was not mortal". He said this, but at the same time was sinking under the danger; and is carried to the tent, to the black bed, the lion's hide, and mattress, for such was his couch. And when the surgeons pronounced there was no hope of life, the army receiving the news of his death all set up a wail, all beat the breast, by all was the around moistened with tears; their weapons escaped from their hands, and were thrown away; for they thought that not even one to carry the tidings would return from thence home. The Persian king dedicated to the gods his saviors, those gifts which he ought to have sent to him; and had customary table set up before him, having before that made the earth serve in its place; he decorated his head according to custom, which had been neglected all the time of his danger; and all things that he would have done if his adversaries had been swallowed up root and branch by the earth opening her mouth, the same way did he behave because a single young man was come to his end. Both sides, therefore, gave their vote that the existence of the Romans was locked up in him, the one as they mourned, the other as they exulted; the one as they deemed they were lost, the other as they believed they had already conquered. One may discern his excellence even from his dying words; for when all who stood round him had fallen a-weeping, and not even the masters of philosophy could master their feelings, he rebuked the others, and especially the latter persons, because "when his past life was bringing him to the islands of the Blessed, they wept for him as though he had spent his life so as to deserve Tartarus”. The scene was like the prison that contained Socrates; those present resembled those that were present with that philosopher; the wound the cup of poison; the words his words; whilst the circumstance that Socrates shed not a tear was paralleled by our hero's doing the same. But when his friends besought him to name a successor to the empire, inasmuch as he saw nobody like himself at hand, he referred the election to the army; and him he urges to do his best to save the troops, for that he in preserving them had endured every toil.

    Eunapius of Sardes, fragments 20 and 26:
    When the troop of mounted cataphracts over and above four hundred rushed down upon the rear-guard.

    [Concerning the end of Julian, the Apostate and Soldier, the reply of the oracle was as follows]
    But when that time comes when you shall tame the Persian blood with your scepter and bring them beneath your rule, driven back as far as Seleucia by your sword, then indeed a chariot bright as fire leads you to Olympus, a chariot swallowed up in the turmoil of whirlwinds and lightning, leaving behind the wretched distress of human limbs. And you shall come to the ancestral halls of the ethereal light, whence you came, led astray to take the form of a human body.


    Inspired by such eloquent words as these, and even more by prophecies, they say he was most agreeably exalted above mortal destruction …

    There is an oracle which was given to him while he was waiting at Ctesiphon: “Zeus, the all-wise, once destroyed a race of Earth-born giants most hateful to the blessed ones who dwell in the Olympian halls. Julian the godlike, Emperor of the Romans, contending for the cities and long walls of the Persians, fighting hand-to-hand, destroyed them with fire and the valiant sword, subdued without pause their cities and many races. Seizing also, with heavy fighting, the German soil of those people of the west he laid waste their land”.

    Festus, Breviarium, 28:
    Retracing his route upstream along the Tigris (with the river on his right), he exposed the flank of his troops. When he wandered along the column too incautiously, after the dust was stirred up and he lost sight of his own men, he was pierced through the abdomen as far as the groin by the lance of an enemy horseman. Amidst the excessive loss of blood, when in spite of having been wounded he had restored the ranks of his army, and after a long address to his companions, he breathed forth his lingering life.

    Ephraim the Syrian, Hymns against Julian, III, 16:
    When he saw that his gods were refuted and exposed,
    and that he was unable to conquer and unable to escape,
    he was prostrated and torn between fear and shame.
    Death he chose so that he might escape in Sheol
    and cunningly he took off his armor in order to be wounded
    so that he might die without the Galileans seeing his shame.

    Gregory of Nazianzus, Oration V, 13–14:
    Up to this point, such is the universal account; but thence-forward, one and the same story is not told by all, but different accounts are reported and made up by different people, both those present at the battle, and those not present; for some say that he was hit by a dart from the Persians, when engaged in a disorderly skirmish, as he was running hither and thither in his consternation; and the same fate befell him as it did to Cyrus, son of Parysatis, who went up with the Ten Thousand against his brother Artaxerxes, and by fighting inconsiderately threw away the victory through his rashness. Others, however, tell some such story as this respecting his end: that he had gone up upon a lofty hill to take a view of his army and ascertain how much was left him for carrying on the war; and that, when he saw the number considerable and superior to his expectation, he exclaimed: “What a dreadful thing if we shall bring back all these fellows to the land of the Romans!” as though he begrudged them a safe return. Whereupon one of his officers, being indignant and not able to repress his rage, ran him through the bowels, without caring for his own life. Others tell that the deed was done by a barbarian jester, such as follow the camp, “for the purpose of driving away ill humor and for amusing the men when they are drinking”. Some give this honor to one of the Saracens. At any rate, he received a wound truly seasonable (or mortal) and salutary for the whole world, and by a single cut from his executioner he pays the penalty for the many entrails of victims to which he has trusted (to his own destruction); but what surprises me, is how the vain man, that fancied he learned the future from that means, knew nothing of the wound about to be inflicted on his own entrails! The concluding reflection is for once very appropriate: the liver of the victim was the approved means for reading the future, and it was precisely in that organ that the arch-diviner received the fatal thrust.

    John Chrysostom, Homily upon Saint Babylas against Julian and the Heathens, XXII/123:
    Even those who were eyewitnesses or forced to experience the many disasters which befell the campaign could hardly begin to describe the full picture, for it defies description. To come to the gist of the matter, Julian died disgracefully and without honor, for some say that he was mortally wounded by one of his own baggage-bearers, out of resentment at the appalling predicament of the army. Another version says that he died at the hands of an unknown assassin, recounting only that he was struck down and that he requested that he should be buried in Cilicia, where his body remains to this day.

    Socrates of Constantinople, Ecclesiastical History, III, 21, 9–18:
    Wherefore the latter, convinced of the uselessness of them, was constrained to prepare for conflict, and therefore on the next day after the rejection of his embassy, he drew out in order of battle all the forces he had. The Romans indeed censured their prince for not avoiding an engagement when he might have done so with advantage: nevertheless, they attacked those who opposed them, and again put the enemy to flight. The emperor was present on horseback and encouraged his soldiers in battle; but confiding simply in his hope of success, he wore no armor. In this defenseless state, a javelin was thrown at him unexpectedly and pierced his arm and entered his side. In consequence of this wound he died, and the identity of the killer was unknown. Some say that a certain Persian deserter hurled the javelin; others assert that one of his own men was the author of the deed, which indeed is the best corroborated report. But Callistus, one of his bodyguards, who celebrated this emperors’ deeds in heroic verse, says, in narrating the particulars of this war, that the wound of which he died was inflicted by a demon. This is possibly a mere poetical fiction, or perhaps it was really the fact; for vengeful furies have indeed destroyed many persons. Be the case however as it may, this is certain, that the ardor of his natural temperament rendered him incautious, his learning made him vain, and his affectation of clemency exposed him to contempt. Thus, Julian ended his life in Persia, as we have said, in his fourth consulate, which he bore with Sallust his colleague. This event occurred on the 26th of June, in the third year of his reign, and the seventh from his having been created Caesar by Constantius, being at that time in the thirty first year of his age.

    Sozomenus, Ecclesiastical History, VI, 1, 13–16:
    In the heat of the conflict which ensued, a violent wind arose; and the sky and the sun were totally concealed by the clouds, while the air was at the same time mixed with dust. During the darkness which was thus produced, a horseman, riding at full gallop, directed his lance against the emperor, and wounded him mortally. After throwing Julian from his horse, the unknown assailant secretly went away. Some conjectured that he was a Persian; others, that he was a Saracen. There are those who insist that he who struck the blow was a Roman soldier, who was indignant at the imprudence and temerity which the emperor had manifested in exposing his army to such peril …


    Theodoret of Cyrrhus, Ecclesiastical History, III, 25, 5–7,
    In the midst of their murmuring and grumbling, they suddenly found him who had struggled in mad rage against his Maker wounded to death. Ares who raises the war-din had never come to help him as he promised; Loxias had given lying divination; he who rejoices in the thunderbolts had hurled no bolt on the man who dealt the fatal blow; the boasting of his threats was dashed to the ground. The name of the man who dealt that righteous stroke no one knows to this day. Some say that he was wounded by an invisible being, others by one of the Nomads who were called Ishmaelites; others by a trooper who could not endure the pains of famine in the wilderness.

    Philostorgius, Ecclesiastical History, VII, 15:
    The apostate Julian undertook an expedition against the Persians, relying upon the prophecies of the heathen oracles in different quarters, that his might would prove irresistible. But a certain old man, one of those who had long since been discharged from the Persian service, approached the Apostate as he was making war in Persia. And when he had brought the Romans into the greatest straits by leading them into a pathless desert, in which a very great portion of the army perished, he gave the enemy, like the prey of a hunter, into the hands of his countrymen. For the Persians rushed upon the Romans, having joined to their forces as allies some Saracen horsemen who were armed with spears. One of them thrust a spear at Julian, which struck him forcefully on the thigh near the groin; and when the spear was drawn out, it was followed by a quantity of bile and blood also. Subsequently, one of the bodyguards of the emperor immediately attacked the Saracen who had wounded the king and cut off his head: while the Romans immediately placed the mortally wounded Julian on a shield and carried him off into a tent. Many even thought that the fatal blow was struck by Julian’s own friends, so sudden and unexpected was it, and so much at a loss were they to know where it came from. But the wretched Julian took up in his hands the blood which flowed from his wound, and cast it up towards the sun, exclaiming in a clear voice, “Take thy fill!” and he added curses upon the other gods as villains and destroyers. In his train was a most distinguished physician, one Oribasius, a native of the Lydian city, Sardis. But the wound was far beyond all medical art, and carried Julian off after three days of suffering, after he had enjoyed the dignity of Caesar for five years, and the imperial throne two years and a half from the death of Constantius. Philostorgius in this passage writes that Julian sprinkled his blood towards the sun and cursed his gods. But most historians write that he used this act as an expression of hatred against our Lord and only true God, Jesus Christ.

    John Malalas, Chronographia, XIII, 21–333:
    On the next day, the twenty-sixth of June, he brought out the Persians who had misled him and examined them. They confessed with the words “For the sake of our country and our king, that he might be saved, we gave ourselves to death and deceived you. Now, as your slaves, we die”. He believed them and did not kill them but gave them his promise if they would lead the army out of the desert area.
    About the second hour of the same day, the Emperor Julian was walking among the army and urging them not to behave in an undisciplined manner when he was wounded by someone unknown. He went into his tent and died during the night as Magnus (i.e. Magnus of Carrhae), whom we referred to earlier, relates. However, Eutychianus, the historian from Cappadocia, who was a soldier and a vicarius of his unit of the Primoarmeniaci (Legio I Armeniaca?), and who was himself present in the war, wrote that the Emperor Julian entered Persian territory by way of the Euphrates for fifteen days’ marching. There he was victorious and conquered and took everything as far as the city called Ctesiphon which was the seat of the Persian king. The latter fled to the territory of the Persarmenians, while Julian decided with his Council and his army to set out for Babylon on the next day and to take it by night. While he slept he saw in a dream an adult man, wearing a cuirass, approaching him in his tent near the city of Ctesiphon, in a city called Asia and smiting him with a spear. Distraught, he awoke and cried out. The eunuchs of the bedchamber and the bodyguard and the unit who guarded the tent arose and came to him with royal torches. When the Emperor Julian realized that he had been fatally wounded in the armpit, he asked them, “What is the name of the village where my tent is?”, and they told him that it was called Asia. Then he immediately cried out, “O Sun, you have slain Julian”, and having lost blood, he died at the fifth hour of the night in the year 411 of the era of Antiochus the Great.

    Passion of Artemis, 69:
    But immediately, in this state of distress, they encountered against their will the army of the Persians. A battle occurred and while Julian himself was rushing here and there and organizing his men, he fell to the spear, so it is said, of a soldier; but, as others record, to the spear of a Saracen serving with the Persians. But in the true Christian version, which is ours, the spear belonged to the Lord Christ who was ranged against him. For suddenly a bow from the skies stretched taut and launched a missile at him as at a target and it pierced through his side and wounded him in the abdomen. And he wailed deeply and woefully and thought that our Lord Jesus Christ was standing before him and exulting over him. But he, filled with darkness and madness, received his own blood in his hands and sprinkled it into the air, and when he became breathless shouted out, saying: “You have won, Christ. Take your fill, Galilean!” Thus, he ended his life in a most fearful and hateful manner after many reproaches had been heaped upon his own gods.

    Quite obviously, the most detailed and reliable account is Ammianus’ one. This time, the Sasanian attack was well-coordinated, with successive attacks against different parts of the Roman column to try to overwhelm the defenders. Syvänne guesses (he calls it an “educated guess”, for he has no documentary proof in this respect) that the marching order of the Roman army was the same one followed during the first part of the invasion, when it was advancing along the Euphrates. This time, the army would have been marching northwards with the Tigris on its left, but far from the river (as Ammianus describes that the army was attacked from both flanks). The infantry would be deployed in a hollow square, with the baggage train in its center. The cavalry would be distributed along the flanks of the army, with a vanguard and a rearguard also formed by cavalry. The cavalry rearguard would’ve been commanded by Secundinus and the cavalry vanguard by Julian himself, and it would’ve been formed by the elite scholae units.

    SUMERE.jpg

    Reconstruction of the battle of Toummara (or “Sumara”) according to Ilkka Syvänne (Military History of Late Rome 361-395).

    The Sasanian attack was well planned; as it seems to have been a sudden attack and to have proceeded very quickly, Syvänne assumes that only the Sasanian cavalry and elephants were involved (and indeed Ammianus does not mention the Sasanian infantry at any point). First, a Sasanian force attacked the Roman rearguard, causing it to stop.

    When Julian received the news, he immediately turned back with his elite cavalry vanguard to go in the rearguard’s help, most probably by crossing through the hollow interior of the square. The attack was so sudden that Julian, who was not wearing armor (remember it was summer in Mesopotamia) just had time to pick up a shield before rushing to the danger point. But when he was hurrying to the rearguard, he received news that the vanguard was under attack too, and so he turned back and managed to restore the situation, at great personal risk. Syvänne states (and I agree with him) that the Sasanian plan was to force the Roman column to stretch out and to stop, weakening its flanks as the Romans sent help to both the rearguard and the vanguard. Because effectively, it was at this moment when the Sasanians attacked both flanks of the Roman column. The most dangerous attack was the one against its left flank (for some reason, the Romans were marching inland, and this flank was not protected by the Tigris), commanded by Nevitta. Here, a unit of “Parthian” cavalry (Syvänne assumes that Ammianus meant here “Parthians from the region of Parthia” as opposed to an antiquated use of the term instead of the then common term of “Persians”; in a previous part of his work Ammianus had referred to the “Parthians” as the elite of the Sasanian heavy cavalry) supported by elephants attacked the Roman cavalry screen and dispersed it quickly (yet another show of the inferiority of Roman cavalry vs. its Sasanian counterparts) and then proceeded to subject the infantry of the Roman left flank to a deadly attack with its kontoi and arrows that threatened to cause the Roman lines to break.

    Julian and his escort rushed to the spot and succeeded in causing the enemy to flee; Julian’s guardsmen then proceeded to pursue the retreating enemy, and Julian joined them; it was at this moment that he was struck by a cavalry hasta (equestris hasta) that grazed his arm and lodged in his liver. He fell from his horse and his guards immediately took him back inside the square. Ammianus states explicitly that Julian was not killed by Roman conspirators, although his use of the expression equestris hasta is surprising, because this was a Roman cavalry thrusting weapon; the Latin term for “javelin” in Ammianus’ time was lancea, and the heavy and very long Sasanian cavalry pike was called contus in Latin. If you read the above sources, there are almost as many theories about the identity of Julian’s killer as authors: a disaffected Roman, a Sasanian cavalryman, an Arab in Sasanian service, an Arab in Roman service, a demon, the pagan gods / Fate or even Jesus Christ Himself.

    Column-Julian.jpg

    The so-called Column of Julian in Ankara (ancient Ancyra, Turkey). It’s been traditionally assumed to have been built in occasion of Julian’s visit to this city in 362 CE, but some scholars think it was built a century or more later.

    Upon seeing this, the Sasanian retreating forces regrouped and attacked again the left flank, where the fight would continue until the late afternoon. As this happened in the left flank, the right flank under Hormisdas (and perhaps also Arintheus, if the command arrangements were the same as during the first part of the invasion) also came under attack and here the Sasanian attackers were very successful; the cavalry screen was also overwhelmed and the attackers were able to break through the infantry lines and enter the hollow center of the square, where they killed many of the court officials that had accompanied the expedition, like the Magister Officiorum Anatolius, and the Praetorian Prefect of the East Salutius escaped death narrowly when his horse was killed (his secretary Phosphorius was also killed near him).

    As Syvänne states, it’s unclear how did the Romans manage to escape complete disaster and force the Sasanians to retreat, because all the sources concentrate on narrating Julian’s death, but they managed to do so, inflicting heavy casualties on their enemy, among them their commander the (supposed) Ērān-Spāhbed Mihrān, the Romans’ old enemy Nohodares, as well as many other high-ranking nobles and officers. Following Ammianus’ account, the following day (June 27) the commanders of the army called to a meeting all the commanders of legions and cavalry turmae (which according to Syvänne meant all the leaders of units stronger than 512 men on paper, plus the officers and supernumeraries) to elect a new emperor. As was to be expected, the officers were divided in two blocks: one led by Arintheus, Victor and other old members of Constantius II’s staff, and were mainly officers of the eastern army; the western or “Gallic” block was formed by officers who had served (and risen in the ranks) in Gaul under Julian and was led by Nevitta and Dagalaifus. In the end, they agreed to elect the Praetorian Prefect of the East Salutius as new augustus: he was the only member of the “high command” present at the site who was a Roman by birth, and he was a pagan who had refused to prosecute Christians, which made him a good consensus choice. But Salutius refused to accept on the grounds of his advanced age and poor health. This caused a real problem, as there were no Romans of high enough rank left for the post.

    It was at this moment that some “hotheads” (in Ammianus’ words) chose Jovian, an officer of the Domestici (primicerius domesticorum) as the new augustus. His sole recommendation for the post was the reputation his recently retired father Varronianus, who had been commander of the Domestici (comes domesticorum). According to Ammianus, Jovian was elected by the camp-followers, but it’s difficult to accept his claim, he was probably acclaimed as augustus by his companions of the Protectores Domestici, who dressed him in purple robes in his tent and then presented him to the troops, and the troops acclaimed him as their new emperor without even knowing who he was. Syvänne suggests that the reason for Ammianus’ strange claim that the Domestici had nothing to do with this strange event is that he himself was an officer of this corps, and did want to hide or at least obscure his own role in what was essentially a (bloodless) coup.

    The following day (June 27) the signifer (standard bearer) of the Legio Ioviani, who had been commanded by Varronianus and who was a mortal enemy of both Jovian and his father, deserted immediately to the Sasanians after hearing the news of Jovian’s rise to the purple. He informed Šābuhr II that Julian had been killed and that “a weak man” had been chosen as successor, and the Šahān Šāh immediately ordered a new attack against the Roman army, which took place the following day, as recorded in the sources:

    Ammianus Marcellinus, Res Gestae Libri XXXI, XXV, 6, 2–3:
    But when we accordingly were just beginning to leave, the Persians attacked us, with the elephants in front. By the unapproachable and frightful stench of these brutes, horses and men were at first thrown into confusion, but the Ioviani and Herculiani, after killing a few of the beasts, bravely resisted the mail-clad horsemen. Then the legions of the Iovii and the Victores came to the aid of their struggling companions and slew two elephants, along with a considerable number of the enemy. On our left wing some valiant warriors fell, Iulianus, Macrobius and Maximus, tribunes of the legions which then held first place in our army.

    Zosimus, New History, III, 30, 2–4:
    When Jovian had assumed the purple and the diadem, he directed his course homewards with all possible speed. Arriving at the castle of Suma, he was attacked by the Persian cavalry, accompanied by a great number of elephants, which committed great devastation in the right wing of the army, in which were placed the Ioviani and Herculiani. These were the appellations of two legions, so named from Diocletian and Maximian, the former of whom assumed the surname of Jupiter, and the latter that of Hercules.
    Although at first they were unable to sustain the shock of the elephants, yet when the Persians with their horses and elephants in one body approached them, and happened to arrive at a rising ground, on which were the carriages of the Romans and those who had the care of them, they availed themselves of the advantage to throw darts from above upon the Persians, with which they wounded the elephants. Upon feeling the smart of their wounds, the elephants, in their usual manner, immediately fled, breaking the line of the cavalry. The soldiers were thus enabled to kill the elephants in their flight, and numbers of the enemy.
    There fell also on the Roman side, three tribunes, Iulianus, Maximianus, and Macrobius. They then marched forward four days, continually harassed by the enemy, who followed them when they were proceeding, but fled when the Romans offered any resistance. At length, having gained some distance of the enemy, they resolved to cross the Tigris.

    Ioviani-Seniores-02.jpg

    Reenactors from the group Legio Iovani Seniores in historical garb; the design on their shields is the one that appears in the Notitia Dignitatum.

    The Romans were thus able to repulse yet another Sasanian attack, in which the Sasanians had put their elephants in front of their cavalry in the hope of being able to break the Roman formation. But despite their victory, the loss of three legionary tribunes (the title that the commander of a legion received during the IV century CE) seems to indicate that the Romans also suffered important losses. Zosimus’ account, which this time is more detailed than Ammianus’, also informs us that the Sasanian harassment continued for the next four days while the Romans kept retreating. A few days later the army found refuge at Charcha (identified by Ernst Herzfeld in 1948 with Karkh Fairuz in Iraq, about 11 km north of Samarra; according to Dodgeon and Lieu, this would’ve happened around June 29-30) and on July 1 it reached Dura (not Dura Europos; identified by Ernst Herzfeld with Dur Arabaya, about 5 km north of Charcha), where they were delayed for four days by Sasanian attacks:

    Ammianus Marcellinus, Res Gestae Libri XXXI, XXV, 6, 9–11:
    And from here, having completed a march of thirty stadia, on the first of July we reached a city called Dura. Our horses were tired, and their riders, who marched on foot and fell to the rear, were surrounded by a throng of Saracens, and would at once have perished, had not some squadrons of our light-armed cavalry brought help to them in their distress. We found these Saracens hostile for the reason that they had been prevented by Julian's order from receiving pay and numerous gifts, as in times past, and when they complained to him, had received the simple reply that a warlike and watchful emperor had steel and not gold. In this place the persistence of the Persians delayed us for four days. For when we began to march, they followed us, and by frequent onsets forced us to turn back; if we halted to do battle with them, they little by little retired and harassed us by continual delays. But now (since to those who are in fear of the worst even false reports are commonly welcome) the rumor was circulated that the frontiers of our possessions were not far distant; whereupon the army, with mutinous bluster, demanded that they be allowed to cross the Tigris.

    Notice Ammianus’ remark about the “Saracens” that seems to confirm Syvänne’s hypothesis about the desertion of the Roman Arab allies because Julian had not been paying them. The Romans seized a bridgehead on the opposite bank of the Tigris by a daring raid, but the strong current prevented the Tigris from being successfully bridged:

    Ammianus Marcellinus, Res Gestae Libri XXXI, XXV, 6, 11 – 7, 4:
    In this place the persistence of the Persians delayed us for four days. For when we began to march, they followed us, and by frequent onsets forced us to turn back; if we halted to do battle with them, they little by little retired and harassed us by continual delays. But now (since to those who are in fear of the worst even false reports are commonly welcome) the rumor was circulated that the frontiers of our possessions were not far distant; whereupon the army, with mutinous bluster, demanded that they be allowed to cross the Tigris. The emperor, as well as the generals, opposed them, and pointing to the river, which was in flood, since the dog-star had already risen, begged them not to trust themselves to the dangerous currents, declaring that very many could not swim, and adding that the scattered bands of the enemy had beset the banks of the swollen stream in various places. But when these warnings, though several times repeated, had no effect, and the loud shouts of the excited soldiers threatened violence, Jovian reluctantly consented that the Gauls, mingled with the northern Germans, should enter the river first of all, to the end that if these were swept away by the force of the stream, the obstinacy of the rest might be broken down; or if they accomplished their purpose without harm, the rest might try to cross with greater confidence. For this attempt the most skillful men were chosen, who from early childhood were taught in their native lands to cross the greatest of all river, and as soon as the quiet of night gave an opportunity for concealment, as if starting all together in a race, they gained the opposite bank more quickly than could have been expected, and after trampling under foot and killing a great number of the Persians, who had been posted to guard the places, but from a feeling of security were buried in quiet sleep, they raised their hands and waved their mantles, to show that their bold attempt had succeeded. 15 When this was seen from afar, the soldiers, now eager to cross, were delayed only by the promise of the pontoon builders to make bridges of bladders from the hides of slain animals.
    While these vain attempts were being made, King Sapor, both when far away and when he had come near, learned from the true accounts of scouts and deserters of the brave deeds of our men and the shameful defeats of his army, accompanied by a greater loss of elephants than he had ever known in his reign; also that the Roman army, inured to constant hardship after the loss of their glorious leader, were looking out (as they said), not for their safety, but for revenge, and would end the difficulties of their situation by either a decisive victory or a glorious death. This news filled his mind with fear for many reasons: for he knew by experience that the troops scattered in great numbers through the provinces could easily be assembled by one little ticket, and he was aware that his own subjects, after the loss of so many men were in a state of extreme panic, and, besides, that in Mesopotamia a Roman army had been left which was not much smaller. More than all, it dulled his anxious mind that five hundred men together in one swim had crossed unharmed the swollen river, had slain his guards, and had roused their comrades who had remained behind to similar boldness.
    Meanwhile our men, since the raging waters prevented bridges from being made, and everything edible had been used up, passed two days in wretchedness, deprived of everything useful; excited by hunger and wrath, they were in a state of frenzy and eager to lose their lives by the sword rather than by starvation, the most shameful kind of death.

    Zosimus, New History, III, 30, 4–5:
    There fell also on the Roman side, three tribunes, Iulianus, Maximianus, and Macrobius. They then marched forward four days, continually harassed by the enemy, who followed them when they were proceeding, but fled when the Romans offered any resistance. At length, having gained some distance of the enemy, they resolved to cross the Tigris.
    For this purpose, they fastened skins together, and floated over. When the greater part had gained the opposite bank, the commanders crossed over in safety with the remainder. The Persians, however, still accompanied them, and followed them with a large army so assiduously, that the Romans were in perpetual danger, both from the unfavorable circumstances in which they were placed, and from the want, of provisions.

    Ammianus embellishes his tale as much as possible by praising the bravery of the Roman army and the cowardice of the “Persians”, but the truth is that the Roman army was trapped without supplies on the eastern bank of the Tigris and virtually surrounded. a small vanguard of “Gauls and Germans” who had experience in commando operations and river crossings (like Julian’s campaign in Gaul had showed) had managed to seize a bridgehead on the western bank, but the rest of the army could not cross due to the strong current. In this hopeless situation, Jovian and the top officers of the army accepted the peace terms offered by Šābuhr II, who then allowed the Roman army to retreat unhindered. The sources tell it thus:


    Ammianus Marcellinus, Res Gestae Libri XXXI, XXV, 7, 5–14:
    However, the eternal power of God in heaven was on our side, and the Persians, beyond our hopes, took the first step and sent as envoys for securing peace the Surena and another magistrate, being themselves also low in their minds, which the fact that the Roman side was superior in almost every battle shook more and more every day. Nevertheless, they offered conditions which were difficult and involved, for they pretended that from feelings of humanity the most merciful of kings would allow the remnants of the army to return, if the emperor and his most distinguished generals would comply with his demands. In reply to this, Arintheus was sent to him with the prefect Salutius, but, while a deliberate discussion was going on as to what ought to be determined, four days passed by, full of torments from hunger and worse than any death. If the emperor, before letting these envoys go, had used this space of time to withdraw gradually from the enemy's territories, he could surely have reached the protection of Corduena, a rich region belonging to us, and distant only a hundred miles from the spot where all this took place. Now, the king obstinately demanded the lands which (he said) were his and had been taken from him long ago by Maximianus; but, in fact, as the negotiations showed, he required as our ransom five provinces on the far side of the Tigris: Arzanena, Moxoëna, and Zabdicena, as well as Rehimena and Corduena with fifteen fortresses, besides Nisibis, Singara and Castra Maurorum, a very important stronghold. And whereas it would have been better to fight ten battles than give up any one of these, the band of flatterers pressed upon the timid emperor, harping upon the dreaded name of Procopius, and declaring that if he returned on learning of the death of Julianus, he would with the fresh troops under his command easily and without opposition make himself emperor. Jovian, inflamed by these dangerous hints too continually repeated, without delay surrendered all that was asked, except that with difficulty he succeeded in bringing it about that Nisibis and Singara should pass into control of the Persians without their inhabitants, and that the Romans in the fortresses that were to be taken from us should be allowed to return to our protection. To these conditions there was added another which was destructive and impious, namely, that after the completion of these agreements, Arsaces, our steadfast and faithful friend should never, if he asked it, be given help against the Persians. This was contrived with a double purpose, that a man who at the emperor's order had devastated Chiliocomum might be punished, and that the opportunity might be left of presently invading Armenia without opposition. The result was that later this same Arsaces was taken alive, and that the Parthians amid various dissensions and disturbances seized a great tract of Armenia bordering on Media, along with Artaxata.
    When this treaty was concluded, lest anything contrary to the agreements should be done during the truce, distinguished men were given on both sides as hostages: from our side Nemota, Victor, and Bellovaedius, tribunes of famous corps, and from the opposite party Bineses, one of the distinguished magnates, and three satraps besides of no obscure name. And so, a peace of thirty years was made and consecrated by the sanctity of oaths; but we returned by other routes, and since the places near the river were avoided as rough and uneven, we suffered from lack of water and food.

    Zosimus, New History, III, 31, 1–2:
    Although the Roman army was in this condition, the Persians were willing to treat for peace, and for that purpose sent Surena with other officers to the Roman camp. Jovian, upon hearing this, sent to them Sallustius, prefect of the court, together with Aristaeus, who, after some discussion, agreed on a truce for thirty years. The conditions were, that the Romans should give up to the Persians the country of the Zabdiceni, and that of the Gordyeni, Rhemeni, and Zaleni, besides fifteen castles in those provinces, with the inhabitants, lands, cattle, and all their property; that Nisibis should be surrendered without its inhabitants, who were to be transplanted into whatever colony the Romans pleased.
    The Persians also deprived the Romans of great part of Armenia, leaving them but a very small part of it. The truce having been concluded on these conditions, and ratified on both sides, the Romans had an opportunity of returning home unmolested, neither party offering or sustaining any injury, either by open force, or secret machination.

    Chronicle of the Pseudo-Joshua the Stylite, 7:
    In the year 609 (297–298 CE) the Greeks got possession of the city of Nisibis, and it remained under their sway for sixty-five years. After the death of Julian in Persia which took place in the year 674 (362–363 CE), Jovian, who reigned over the Greeks after him, preferred peace above everything, and for the sake of this he allowed the Persians to take possession of Nisibis for one hundred and twenty years, after which they were to restore it to its (former) masters.

    John Malalas, Chronographia, XIII:
    Jovian himself and his army left the desert for the fertile land of Persia and he pondered anxiously how he might leave Persia. When Sabbourarsakios (i.e. Šābuhr II), the Persian king, learnt of the death of the emperor Julian, he was distressed by a great anxiety. From the country of Persarmenia he dispatched as envoy one of his highest nobility called Suren to the Roman emperor, with a request and plea for peace. The holy Emperor Jovian gladly received him and consented to receive his embassy for peace, stating that he was also sending an ambassador to the Persian king. When Suren, the Persian ambassador, heard this, he asked the Emperor Jovian to sign a peace treaty immediately and forthwith. And Jovian gave the appointment to a senator of his, the patrician Arintheus, and entrusted the entire negotiations to him. He agreed to stick to what was sanctioned by him or was signed. The emperor disdained in person to make a peace treaty with a man of senatorial rank, albeit a Persian envoy. A relaxation of hostilities for three days was granted for the deliberations about peace. An agreement was struck between the Roman patrician Arintheus and Suren, the Persian senator and ambassador; the Romans would give to the Persians all the so-called province of Mygdonia (i.e. Roman Mesopotamia) and its chief city called Nisibis, empty and with only its walls, without its inhabitants. And when this was settled and a peace was put into writing, the Emperor Jovian took with him one of the satraps, a Persian in the company of the ambassador and called Junius. The purpose of this was to safeguard him and his expedition out of Persian territory and (for the Persians) to take over the province and its main city.

    John Zonaras, Extracts of History, XIII, 14, 4, 6:
    He (i.e. Jovian) accepted the title of emperor and made a treaty with the Persians which was hardly honorable, but necessary at the time. He conceded two famous cities to them, Nisibis and Singara, and transferred the inhabitants of them elsewhere, who, stressed by the violence of grief, spoke to him in terms far removed from the respect which they owed him. He abandoned to them (i.e. the Sasanians) some provinces and rights which had belonged to the Romans for a long time. When the hostages had been handed over from one side to the other, the Romans left to return to their country; but they suffered great discomfort throughout their whole journey, and were extremely hard pressed by hunger and thirst.

    In this peace, Šābuhr II got practically all that he wanted:
    • The satrapies “beyond the Tigris”.
    • Most of Roman Mesopotamia, including its capital, Nisibis.
    • A compromise by the Romans to not help the Armenian king against him.
    Apart from Ammianus’ account, the other most interesting one is the one by John Malalas, because he basically copied the lost chronicle of Magnus of Carrhae, who like Ammianus had been an officer in the Roman army during the ill-fated expedition. For example, he informs us that the Sasanian ambassador who negotiated with Jovian and his staff was Surēn, one of the greatest among the wuzurgān and who had commanded the cavalry force that had shadowed Julian’s advance to Ctesiphon. Ammianus (and other authors) considered the peace to have been dishonorable and that Jovian had covered the name of Rome with shame, and later in his account he expressly blamed Jovian for not breaking the peace treaty as soon as he’s reached the nearest Roman fortress. He expressly accused Jovian of caring more about securing his throne than about keeping the Roman borders intact; he probably was right in this (after all, all the Roman augusti had acted in the same way) because Julian’s cousin and presumptive heir Procopius was in the area commanding another sizeable army; most probably Jovian’s first worry would have been to reach Constantinople before Procopius in order to secure his throne.

    julian-final-lg.jpg

    Map showing Julian’s invasion of Ērānšahr and the retreat begun by him and ended by Jovian. The borders in this map are the ones after the Second Peace of Nisibis.

    Scholars are not sure why Šābuhr II agreed to leave the westernmost part of northern Mesopotamia in Roman hands, but if he did so willingly, he showed political vision, because this border would last until the last Roman-Sasanian war in the VII century CE. With Nisibis, the Sasanian king managed to gain a bulwark against Roman invasions, that would have it much more difficult now to reach Ctesiphon or to menace the Zagros passes, and at the same time he allowed the Romans to retain a screen of fortified cities east of the Euphrates (Carrhae, Edessa, and even Amida) that offered a minimum of protection for Syria, Cilicia and Cappadocia against a Sasanian invasion.

    Due to the symbolism of Nisibis, this treaty is known as the Second Treaty of Nisibis (or the Second Peace of Nisibis), even if (as we have seen) it was signed nowhere near this city. After the loyalty that the population of this city had showed to the Roman cause, Šābuhr II had enforced in the treaty that the city would be delivered to him empty of its inhabitants, who were offered three days to leave the city with whatever material possessions they could carry; most of them would be resettled by the Roman authorities in Edessa (the famed theological school of Nisibis would thus become the school of Edessa for some time), and according to Tabarī, the Šahān Šāh settled in this city 12,000 Persians “of good families” from Staķr in Pārs (the cradle of the House of Sāsān).

    Arbayistan.png

    A more detailed map showing the new trace of the Roman-Sasanian border in upper Mesopotamia (the Armenian border to the north of the Tur Abdin mountains is not correct and would not be in place until the 430s CE).

    To Ammianus, the most shameful parts of this peace were the treason to the citizens of Nisibis and the abandonment of Rome’s loyal Armenian allies to the revenge of Šābuhr II. This king, at the age of 54, had reached the goal he’d been pursuing since the beginning of his personal reign and had restored the western borders of Ērānšahr to what they had been before Narsē’s shameful defeat against Galerius. This was to be the zenith of Šābuhr II’s reign, for until his death in 379 CE his rule would know more failures than successes. This peace would also signal the beginning of a long period of more or less peaceful coexistence between the Roman and Sasanian empire in the Middle East. There would still be some minor wars in the following decades until the 430s CE, when both empires reached a definitive settlement for the “Armenian question” and from then until 502 CE (the start of the “Anastasian War” both empires would be fully at peace.

    The main reason for this sudden penchant for pacifism was not to be found in political or ideological changes in either of these empires, but the appearance of new and very dangerous enemies in each case. In 376 CE, the Goths and other “barbarian” peoples crossed the lower Danube seeking refuge within the Roman empire against the onslaught of the “European” Huns. And in Central Asia, the Sasanians would have to cope with the raise of new powerful dynasties of nomadic origin (probably Hunnic too in this case); the Kidarites and Hephthalites, who would pose a worse danger for Ērānšahr than any of the Roman emperors to date. The remainder of the IV century CE and all of the V century CE would be a time of survival struggle for the Sasanians against these new and dangerous enemies from the East.

    Shapur-II-Met.jpg

    This is perhaps the most famous portrait of Šābuhr II that has arrived to our days; sculpture made in silver and preserved at the Met in New York.
     
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