We must begin with a few hard facts. First, all the monarchies were machines for extracting wealth from the population (mostly the peasants, but including artisans and merchants in the cities), and employing this wealth for the government: that is, for the king, the army, the bureaucracy. The wealth was extracted via taxation.50 It was this extracted wealth which, in turn, allowed the king to control the realm - funding the army that imposed order, funding the bureaucracy that both imposed order and extracted those taxes. Since in the vast dominions of the Ptolemies and the Seleucids, as well as in Greek kingdoms as far away as Bactria (Afghanistan), the king, the army, and the bureaucracy were made up overwhelmingly of Macedonians and Greeks, this meant that in the east monarchy acted as the agent of a Greco-Macedonian aristocracy which led a relatively good life based on the extraction of indigenous wealth - a ‘‘colonial’’ situation.51 This conformed to the view that the kings and their supporters based their privileged position on ‘‘spear-won land’’ - that is, successful military violence.52
There was certainly some upward mobility for hellenized indigenous people.53 But in Ptolemaic Egypt, the weakening at the top after 207 was enough to call forth a massive indigenous rebellion against Greek rule which lasted for over 20 years; and the Seleucids had little enthusiastic support from their own indigenous population.54 In parts of Asia Minor, and in Iran with the rise of the Arsacid Parthian empire (its territory won at the expense of the Seleucids), there grew up indigenous monarchies on the hellenistic model. But these regimes, too, were machines for extracting wealth in the form of taxes from the peasantry - this time to support indigenous masters. And even the indigenous kings in Asia Minor were aided by a large corps of privileged Greco-Macedonian experts.
This is a grim picture, somewhat mitigated by the fact that the kings managed to impose a good deal of internal order: the Seleucids suppressed bandits; the Ptolemies ran an elaborate system of courts which dealt fairly efficiently with property disputes. And if the monarchies had also managed to provide international peace in exchange for the wealth they extracted to support the structures of absolutist government, this would have mitigated the situation far more. But here the monarchies failed (see below).
Second, whatever the theory, the monarchies were at heart absolutist states in which the king did what he wished. Naturally, no monarch wished to be perceived as an ogre, and some men did try to live up to the ideals espoused both by intellectuals and by their own government propaganda.55 But when the monarch wished to depart from those ideals, there was nothing to stop him - and plenty of men did so. Thus, while philosophers mandated self-control for kings in regard to both alcohol and sex, the Antigonid king Demetrius the Besieger appropriated the Parthenon itself for the use of his personal harem (ca. 290 bc), and the lead float in the great procession of Ptolemy II in Alexandria in 271/270 was a penis 150 feet long with a 20-foot star coming out of its tip. Ptolemy IV ca. 225 bc was a notorious drunk, as was the Seleucid king Demetrius I (ca. 150), and even efficient men such as Philip V and Antiochus III behaved badly when they had been drinking.56 The ideal of dynastic unity was upheld by intellectuals, but in the real world the sons of Antiochus II fought a large-scale war for their father’s throne in the 240s, causing widespread damage in Asia; Philip V murdered his own son Demetrius in 180 on suspicion of plotting against him; the polygamous-incestuous marriage of Ptolemy VIII with his sister and his niece (both named Cleopatra) ended badly in 130 with civil war in Alexandria.57 And when Philip V launched surprise attacks on his own allies, or raped citizen women at Argos, or betrayed his promises to cities that surrendered to him on terms (selling their free Greek populations into slavery instead, in order to get money to finance his wars), many were outraged but no one could stop him.58 Monarchs might be worshipped as divine because of the power of their beneficence, but Plutarch’s judgment was that the adoption of the royal title ‘‘stimulated men’s pride and raised their ambitions, and made them arrogant in their style of living and obnoxious in their dealings with others’’ (Demetr. 18). Polybius’ judgment was similar: while kings frequently began their reigns with impulses toward treating people democratically, and a few kings did live up to the ideals of rulership, most kings eventually treated everyone not as allies and friends but as slaves (15.24.4).59
Third, and most important, is that the kings were almost always at war with each other.
The Greco-Macedonian state system that arose in the late fourth century was the result of Alexander’s enormous conquests, followed by the terrible struggle for power among his marshals after 323. The system was a heavily militarized anarchy. There were a few informal norms of interstate conduct - such as maintaining good faith in sworn treaties - and they helped somewhat to ameliorate the prevailing harsh conditions; but these informal norms were not always obeyed, and there were no mechanisms for enforcing them. There were also numerous attempts at mediation and arbitration of disputes between the less powerful states - a considerable Greek effort toward resolving interstate problems peacefully. Yet no state of the first rank ever submitted itself to the process. This is true not only of the great monarchies, but also of the most powerful of the hellenistic city-states, such as Rhodes.60 For the great states, conflicts of interest were decided by might alone. Polybius is explicit that the primary cause of war in his world was the absence of enforceable international law (5.67.11-5.68.2).
This bleak picture has not always been the predominant view ofthe hellenistic state system.61 But the picture of hellenistic international relations held by many current students of the period is now more grim than previous scholarly opinion. Political scientists, led by Kenneth Waltz, have in general emphasized the negative impact of such anarchic and militarized state systems upon the behavior of all states within these systems, and conditions in the hellenistic world confirms the political scientists’ grimmest conclusions.6 Every state within the hellenistic world had to depend upon its own self-help in order to survive amid the disorder, which meant that every state had to be heavily militarized: ‘‘states must meet the demands of the political eco-system or court annihilation’’ (Sterling 1974: 336). The logic of selfhelp led to the maximizing of power: a state could be secure only by increasing its power and influence, thus gaining more control over its harsh surrounding environment. But since every hellenistic state was under this same pressure, and responded in the same harsh way, competition was unrestrained, and tensions persistently led to crises over real or perceived conflicts of interest.6 The primitive nature of ancient diplomacy during such crises - where diplomatic interactions consisted mostly of threats - was not conducive to their peaceful resolution, since ancient concepts of honor, and the necessity to maintain prestige, required resistance to threats.64
These factors almost led to warfare among hellenistic states, and because the units in conflict were large and the resources available to the most powerful states great, the damage done was often enormous.65 The devastation in the Greek world caused by the constant wars of the great monarchies becomes clearer the more inscriptions are discovered.66 The ravaging of city territory and the destruction of rural property was a common occurrence, while the great dynasties even employed pirates to attack enemy commercial shipping and raid coastal areas.67
It is notorious in ancient studies that the Roman Republic went to war almost every year; but this does not set the Romans apart from other hellenistic states.68 Rather, it was a typical response to the anarchy, as is shown by the fact that the great hellenistic kings went to war every year too. Men such as Seleucus II, Antiochus III, or Philip V spent every year of their reigns leading their troops into battle. For Antiochus, that meant 36 straight years in the field; for Philip V it was 42 straight years. Many kings were famous generals - and all of them tried to be. As we saw above, this was partly because successful violence was the fundamental justification for all these royal regimes; but it was also a necessity in a harsh interstate world. Monarchs took titles indicating their ferocity: ‘‘the Eagle,’’ ‘‘the Hawk,’’ ‘‘the Invincible Victor,’’ ‘‘the Glorious Victor’’; and hellenistic rulers were praised in official inscriptions for being ‘‘avid for battle.’’69 In sum, successful warfare was a necessity for hellenistic kings.70
This is why we have no statues of hellenistic kings in civilian attire. But, strikingly, we do have statues of kings posing in what is called ‘‘heroic masculine nudity,’’ showing off their muscles, and other things.71 Such men naturally boasted of their predatory masculinity. Philip V symbolized his insatiable sexual appetite on his coinage, by means of his famous helmet with goat’s horns; Ptolemy II ordered that float with the 150-foot penis.72 Images of sheer physical strength were also central: Lysimachus claimed to have fought a lion with his bare hands (and he had the scars to show it); Seleucus I, like Lysimachus a man of exceptional size, boasted of having subdued with his bare hands a raging bull in front of Alexander.73 And while kings decided foreign relations and grand strategy, they also led their forces into battle in person - as Alexander had done. Thus of the first 14 kings of the Seleucid dynasty, 12 died in battle or on campaign. As late as 146, Ptolemy VI died at the head of a cavalry charge while attempting to conquer Syria.74 King Hiero II of Syracuse (ca. 250 Bc) could boast of having killed many men in single combat (Justin 23.4.12); so could Pyrrhus, king of Epirus in 297-272.75 Attalus I of Pergamum often fought at the head of his forces (both on land and sea) - and was several times almost killed; Philip Vand Antiochus III were famous warriors in the battle-line. This was the definitional essence of kingship.
The bellicosity and constant warfare characteristic of monarchies also held for second-tier states such as the Achaean League or the Aetolian League, and even for small hellenistic city-states, which pursued their own local military rivalries and miniimperialisms. This was all part of - and a response to - the prevailing anarchy.76 But Leveque calculates that in the 163 years between Alexander’s death in 323 BC and 160 BC, the eastern Mediterranean was without war involving one or more of the three great monarchies in only four years. This prevalence of war is to be explained, Leveque argues, primarily because war was the natural way in which the natural antagonisms among these great hellenistic states was regulated. Yes, there was an amount of interstate diplomacy, and the creation of alliances (including via marriage among the dynasties). But at its heart, in hellenistic interstate relations ‘‘la guerre est le recours essential’’; and - in a phrase reminiscent of Kenneth Waltz’s general hypothesis regarding the life of states under anarchic international systems - ‘‘la guerre est... le recours norma/.’’77
In such a world, even the largest states were at great risk if they showed any weakness. Polybius provides us with an example of the ruthless nature of hellenistic politics and the kings who dominated it in his discussion of what occurred when Ptolemy IV died prematurely in 204, leaving the throne at Alexandria to a son who was only six years old:
When Ptolemy [IV] died, leaving an infant son whom it was the natural duty of Philip [V] and Antiochus [III] as kings to maintain in possession of his realm, they hastened instead to divide the child's kingdom between themselves, plotting to destroy the orphan. Nor did they, as tyrants do, even attempt to provide themselves with some flimsy pretext for the shameful deed. Who can look at their treaty [of alliance to destroy young Ptolemy V] and not see the image of all impiety towards the gods, all savagery towards men, and the unbounded greed of these two kings?78
Doubts have been cast, wrongly, in my opinion, about the historicity of this pact between Philip and Antiochus to destroy the Ptolemaic realm;79 but the point is that Polybius, writing for an audience of Greek statesmen, expected his readers to believe that such utterly ruthless conduct was possible - indeed, usual - among the great monarchies (Austin 1986: 458).
The same realities of power determined royal relations with the Greek cities. True, the kings were often anxious to gain for themselves the public support of ‘‘free’’ poleis, and they did it via benevolence: exemption from taxes; the granting of local autonomy; the funding of public buildings and public education; the providing of economic subsidies or military protection in times of need. Relations were usually conducted in a rhetoric of effusive politeness on both sides, and we have seen above how such polite rhetoric might even work a bit to mitigate the impact of the real imbalance of power. Moreover, kings - beset on all sides by threats - might well need the military-political support of cities: Smyrna could even describe itself as a benefactor of King Seleucus II, because of its help to him during wars in the 240s (OGIS 229).80 And local goodwill was in general important to procure the efficient running of an empire under premodern conditions, because the projection of coercive military power overland was difficult and expensive. Thus the balance of power was not totally on the side of the kings (Shipley 2000: 74).
But the people of the city of Abydus on the Hellespont preferred in 200 bc to commit mass suicide rather than be under the control of a monarch - and they win Polybius’ approbation (16.30-4). One should not speak of any ‘‘parity’’ between the cities and the king; the power imbalance was too large.82 Indeed, monarchical ‘‘violence’’ was implicit in the very scale of the gifts which kings could give (autonomy, exemption from taxes): these gifts were assertions of royal superiority, while to the ancients the accepting of such large benefactions constituted in itself a definite (even shameful) sign of inequality. When in the 180s King Eumenes II of Pergamum politely offered to subsidize the functioning of the council of the Achaean League, he was harshly refused, because the Achaeans, a proudly independent and indeed quite powerful state, did not wish to be, or be seen to be, so beholden to a king (Polyb. 22.8). But many cities were.
Thus the enormous military power concentrated at the royal center, and the enormous wealth available for distribution, remained the heart of the situation forced upon the cities by the rise of the kings. They could adapt to it, and manipulate the ideology of ideal kingship to their own advantage and to moderate the impact of royal hegemony. But it was the imbalance of power - not the politeness of the language on honorific inscriptions - that determined the real relations between the cities and the kings. A final example: the great city-state of Rhodes had withstood the attack of Demetrius the Besieger in 304 bc, but a century later was unable to deal with the threatening might of Philip V and Antiochus the Great - and so the Rhodians were forced to join with several other states in calling upon Rome to intervene and save them. This action opened up another chapter in the story of imperial power in the Mediterranean.83
World History
