While a king might have many wives, he could have only one biological mother, so it is not hard to grasp the notion that the king’s mother held the highest place of authority among the court ladies (D7). This is true in successive eastern and western civilisations (on the title ‘king’s mother’ in its Near Eastern context see Brosius 1996: 22-4). Of equal prestige to her position as the monarch’s birth mother was her role in connecting two generations of rulers. In Persia, and the Near East generally, while the king’s mother was not expected to exercise official power, she might gain political clout through the careful maintenance of her son’s favour (by using flattery according to Plutarch, Moralia 174b) as a consequence of her own ambitions and personal skill. In other words, the king’s mother’s power was indirect. Nonetheless, she could influence her son in his policy-making. For instance, Amestris, the mother of Artaxerxes I, regularly intervened (not always for the best) in the bitter dynastic conflict between the king and her son-inlaw, Megabyzus (D8). Nevertheless, the actual power that the king’s mother could wield was limited and she acted only with the consent of the king, although strictly within the domestic sphere she may have been given carte blanche to take decisions on her own. Ctesias implies that the king’s mother had control over behaviour within the harem, policing its mores and punishing the treasonous crimes of family, eunuchs, court doctors, and other harem personnel (D9; see further Ctesias F15 §54; Llewellyn-Jones 2002: 38-9). However, a king’s mother sometimes acted without the consent of her son and her actions could even be treasonous (Ctesias F17 = Plutarch, Artaxerxes 2.3-3.6) but she suffered the consequences. Parysatis, Artaxerxes Il’s mother, infamously pursued a vendetta against her daughter-in-law, Stateira, to its bitter end, when she poisoned her at a private dinner and for this unorthodox behaviour Parysatis was exiled to her estates in Babylonia (E16; see a discussion in Chapter 5).
That the king’s mother could own private estates is significant in itself because it speaks of the land wealth an influential royal woman could amass as personal property, gifted by the crown (Plato Alcibiades 1.123b). Parysatis’ affluence became proverbial in the Greek-speaking world (Plutarch, Artaxerxes 4.1, 19.6; Xenophon, Anabasis 1.4.9, 2.4.27; Aelian, Historical Miscellany 12.1) and her wealth is also confirmed by numerous texts in the Babylonian Murasu archive, where detailed documents record some of the financial affairs of Parysatis’ estates in Mesopotamia and their careful administration by her estate managers and financial middle men; they provide clear evidence of this powerful woman’s economic independence and acumen (Stolper 1985).
Recent work on the Persepolis texts has identified a woman long known to scholars as the wealthy landowner Irdabama to be - in all probability - the mother of Darius I, a woman descended from a family of local Elamite dynasts (Henkelman 2010a: 693-7; Henkelman 2011a: 613). Economically active, and with the authority to issue commands to the administrative hierarchy at Persepolis, Irdabama is well attested in the texts overseeing her vast personal estates, receiving and distributing food supplies and commanding an entourage of puhu (‘servants’, ‘pages’) and kurtas (‘workers’) at Tirazzis (near Shiraz) and elsewhere (PFa 27, PF 737, PF 739). Irdabama is attested at the ceremonial cities of Persepolis and Susa, and even as far away from the Persian heartland as Borsippa in Babylonia (Brosius 1996: 130-41; Henkelman 2010a: 693-7). She clearly travelled widely around central Iran and Mesopotamia with her own courtly entourage and she and her court are often attested travelling independently of the Great King’s court; in this, the behaviour of the king’s mother shadows that of her son, who, as we have seen, toured the countryside as an element of his royal duty (see Chapter 3; Briant 2002: 191). As part of her personal progress through the Empire’s heartland, Irdabama (and no doubt other important royal ladies as well - see below) could deputise for the king in his absence. Interestingly, European monarchies of the middle ages and early modern periods employed much the same tradition and European queens and queen mothers frequently travelled with their own households, setting up courts in places often far from the king, but always rejoining the monarch’s court for religious festivals, state ceremonies, or family events (see, for instance, Starkey 2008: 39-58). Of more surprise, perhaps, is the fact that some of the highest-ranking women of the Mughal imperial harem operated the same system and traversed northern India in curtained palanquins surrounded by armies of courtiers - and all without breaching the very strictest form of Muslim purdah demanded by Mughal royal society (Lal 2005).
One of Irdabama’s servants, a man named Rasda, is well attested in the Persepolis texts (e. g. PF 800, 849); he was probably an important royal commissioner whose jobs included taking care of Irdabama’s workforce. His personal seal, an Elamite heirloom (PFS 77*; Lerner 2010: 157 fig. 14.5), represents an audience scene before an enthroned female protagonist - no coincidence perhaps, given the evident importance of Irdabama - and it is reasonable to envisage her holding audience ceremonies to mirror those of the Great King himself. As Henkelman postulates, ‘One may wonder whether Rasda purposely chose or was given this particular seal. Regardless of that question, however, the image is a powerful reminder that court protocol need not have been confined to the king and his satraps’ (Henkelman 2010a: 694). Irdabama’s conspicuous presence in the Persepolis texts and her obvious economic agency make a stark contrast to Atossa (Old Persian, Udusana), the wife of Darius and mother of Xerxes, who plays such an important role in Herodotus’ Histories, and whom he envisages as a significant political motivator. Atossa barely makes an appearance in the tablets (only twice in fact - PF 0162 and 0163) and in light of the Persepolis evidence we should perhaps modify the way we use Herodotus.
The Persepolis Fortification texts, their archival cognates, and their seal images are clearly of vital significance in expanding our knowledge of the duties, privileges, and powers of Achaemenid royal women and they suggest that those of the highest ranks enjoyed exceptional autonomy (Brosius 1996: 123-46), although we should not postulate this level of independence for all categories harem women. Spending power may have accrued political power, but access to high levels of wealth was nonetheless limited. Despite their ability to travel independently of the king, this in no way negates king’s mothers and other high-ranking royal females being part of the central harem: the structure of the royal hierarchy was maintained with or without their physical presence, and the wealthy women followed the principles of social and spatial separation no matter where they were.
World History
