The other side of Demosthenes

The friends of my friends are my friends, the saying goes. This implies that the enemies of my friends are my enemies. This automatically applies to Demosthenes since he was not a friend of Alexander’s and consequently not a friend of mine (see: Philip vs. Demosthenes, an ongoing business). Yet I keep encountering Demosthenes in many museums, even in the most unexpected corners. From Athens, Rome, Naples, and Florence, to Tirana, Copenhagen, Harvard, Malibu, and New York; Antalya, Cyrene, and Cologne to the Louvre; from the British Museum to the Hermitage, and many more that do not immediately spring to mind.

Demosthenes is known in history as a prominent statesman and orator of ancient Athens. Born in 384 BC, he delivered his first judicial plea at the age of twenty to secure his inheritance, and by the time he was thirty, he made his first public political speech. In those days, the power of Athens was waning, and Demosthenes was most determined to restore the city’s supremacy. Athens was still a democracy where people had the final say in all matters through the Assembly, which would address the issues and vote by a show of hands. Another essential component was the Boule or Council, which would set the agenda of the Assembly and serve as its advisor by meeting daily. Several men used their rhetorical skills to address the people, among which we find Demosthenes. His greatest adversary, however, was to become King Philip of Macedonia, Alexander’s father.

During the Third Sacred War, which lasted from 356 to 346 BC (see: End of the Third Sacred War and Peace with Athens), the Greeks allowed Philip to raise a vast number of soldiers, including forces from Thessaly or other allies. His enemies had underestimated his power, and by the time this war ended, they could no longer stop him.

Frictions started as early as 351 BC, at least when Demosthenes warned the Athenians about the threat of Philip’s expansion policy in the north. Demosthenes wrote his first open letter to the Macedonian king, the first of his so-called  Philippics. This word has become proverbial since it still today applies to any fiery speech aimed to condemn the person in question (in this case, Philip).

Demosthenes became highly influential in Athens’ decision to support Olynthus, their ally, against Philip. He wrote an extensive speech for each individual call for help, known as the three Olynthiacs. These were all delivered in 349 BC, the first one calling the Athenians to organize an expedition and send it on its way, the second one complaining that Athens did not budge, and the third one being aimed at Philip, calling him a barbarian and warning his fellow-citizens that the Macedonian king would quickly seize more and more of their colonies. In his last Olynthiac, Demosthenes pled for a military intervention to rescue the Olynthians and called for a large naval and military force to destroy Philip’s territory. The orator didn’t convince his public until it was too late.

It is important to note that Demosthenes (and probably most Athenians) did not realize that the days of Athens’ polis system were counted. It was clear that Philip could make his decisions and act upon them immediately, while the Athenian system was slow, meaning that by the time they reached a conclusion, the entire context had changed. Philip wanted a treaty of peace and an alliance in which he and the Athenians were equals, something that did not sink in with the Athenians. In any case, in early April 346 BC, an embassy of ten men was sent to Pella to discuss ‘peace and the common interests of Athens and Philip (cf. Demosthenes). This would be the first of four embassies.

This story is very well told by Mary Renault in her book Fire from Heaven, featuring young Alexander. Ten envoys traveled to Pella when Alexander was about ten years old. Among them were great men like Philocrates, Nausicles, Demosthenes, and Aeschines. Each had prepared his speech on the proposed alliance and peace. They had decided to speak in order of age, the youngest last, and this happened to be Demosthenes after Aeschines, who tells us that he began “in a voice dead with fright, and after a brief narration of earlier events suddenly fell silent and was at a loss for words, … Seeing the state he was in, Philip encouraged him to take heart and not to suppose that he had suffered a complete catastrophe. … But Demosthenes … was now unable to recover; he tried once more to speak, and the same thing happened.” What an appearance for such an orator! Having listened graciously to every ambassador, Philip summarized his idea: a bilateral agreement between him and his allies on one side and Athens and their allies on the other.

Demosthenes was terribly frustrated by his flop at the Macedonian court, making a fool of himself in the presence of both Philip and Alexander. This frustration soon turned to anger and even hatred towards his first audience during such an important mission! He must have resented both kings simply because they had witnessed how helpless he had been!

When the embassy left, Philip sent Antipater, Parmenion, and Eurylochus to Athens to repeat his peace terms and receive Athens’ consent in return. The news was buzzing in Athens’ Assembly, which initially was inclined to accept Philip’s proposal. Still, Demosthenes had to give his own twist to the story as usual and persuaded the Assembly to go for a Common Peace in which every state was free to join. Of course, Antipater refused this when he was called in the next day, for those were not his king’s terms. Ultimately, the Athenians and their allies swore their oaths to peace and alliance with Macedonia – not a happy day for Demosthenes.

Yet Demosthenes was stubborn – or should we say determined? In 345 BC, he did all he could to sabotage the treaty with Philip, while Aeschines, on the other hand, tried by all means to keep it alive. As expected, Demosthenes had done his utmost to convince the Athenians that the peace treaty with Philip was worthless, using every trick in the book to manipulate his audience and distort Philip’s words. As a result, by 342/341 BC, the famous peace treaty collapsed entirely.

Meanwhile, as Philip was called to intervene in the Chersonese’s conflict with neighboring Cardia, he wrote many letters of complaint to Athens as they had violated their mutual peace treaty by attacking his allies and pirating the Macedonian merchant ships. Demosthenes, of course, took it personally, and his speeches ‘On the Chersonese’ and his next Philippic were wildly applauded and successful in Athens. The Athenians even went so far as to request support from the Persian King, who gave the ambassadors large sums of money, some of which eventually found its way into Demosthenes’ pocket. Philip was no fool and seized the Athenian corn fleet. Despite failing to secure the shipping route, Demosthenes was crowned for his services at the Theatre of Dionysus during the festival of 340 BC. The world of politics was as strange in antiquity as it is today!

Thebes was a constant headache, siding with Athens or Philip as they saw fit. In early 339 BC, they seized Nicaea at the entrance of the Pass of Thermopylae. By so doing, they blocked Philip’s access road to central Greece, not for long, though, for Philip immediately marched around Thermopylae, scaring the hell out of the Thebans and the Athenians. The situation escalated, eventually leading to the Battle of Chaeronea in August 338 BC. Demosthenes acted again and convinced the Athenians to join him in an alliance against Philip. It was one of his greatest diplomatic triumphs, although it came at a high cost, for there were many demands that Thebes required in exchange.

Demosthenes participated in the Battle of Chaeronea alongside his fellow Athenians. Still, as we know, Philip defeated them (with young Alexander in his left wing against the Theban Band!). Once the fight was over, Demosthenes barely escaped, and his glamorous orator career was over.

The next time Demosthenes comes to the foreground again is evidently after Philip’s death when he is said to have celebrated the king’s assassination. Aeschines tells us that at that time, Demosthenes was in the middle of a mourning ceremony for the death of his daughter. When he heard the news of Philip’s murder, he interrupted his mourning and instead put a garland on his head to make thank offerings to the gods – indeed, not the proper thing to do!

Despite such disrespectful behavior, the Athenians still admired Demosthenes and the orator Ctesiphon even suggested honoring his colleague for his services by presenting him with a golden crown! Lengthy debates followed and dragged on for at least six years since we know that in 330 BC, Aeschines prosecuted this same Ctesiphon for legal irregularities implying Demosthenes. The latter wrote his own defense, known to be his most brilliant speech, ‘On the Crown’ that inspired every statesman ever since. He successfully defended Ctesiphon and exploited the ruling feelings of frustrated patriotism, arguing that all he ever had done was for the honor of Athens and to prove his loyalty to his city.

While Alexander took care of the Thracian and Illyrian uprisings that erupted after his father’s death, Demosthenes spread the news that the young king and his army had been slaughtered. Thebes and Athens took their chances, and with money provided by the Persian King Darius, a new rebellion was financed (Demosthenes apparently received about 300 talents!). As soon as the news reached Alexander, he force-marched his army south and razed Thebes to the ground. He did not attack Athens but demanded that all the politicians openly against Macedonia be exiled, with Demosthenes on top of his list.  This never materialized, mainly because Alexander treated Athens with a privileged reverence.

But this is still not the end of Demosthenes’ grudge, for in 324 BC, he was only too happy to give refuge to the defecting Harpalos, one of Alexander’s companions who was in charge of the king’s treasury. The Athenian Assembly, following Demosthenes' advice, had decided not to allow him to enter the city primarily out of fear of Alexander’s possible reprisal since Harpalos clearly was an insurgent. Harpalos was taken in custody, and his treasure (well over 700 talents) was confiscated and entrusted to a special committee presided over by Demosthenes. Once the money was counted, the committee found only half the sum as declared by Harpalos. They decided not to make this fact public for the time being. However, when Harpalus escaped, they discovered that Demosthenes had mishandled twenty talents. During the trial that ensued, it transpired that there was a much larger deficit than these twenty talents and that Demosthenes had been bribed by Harpalos. Yet it remains unclear how much money Demosthenes had manipulated and for what purpose it was used. In the end, he was fined but refused to pay. For this reason, he was sent to prison but escaped in a manner not unlike Harpalos. From then onward, he lived in exile, first at Troezen and later at Aegina.

Even after Alexander died in 323 BC, Demosthenes could not resist urging the Athenians to eliminate Macedonian supremacy. He returned to Athens and mingled in the Lamian War, from which Antipater (still regent at Pella) appeared victorious. Finally, Antipater had had enough and demanded Demosthenes be surrendered to him. The Athenian Assembly, in fact, condemned the city’s anti-Macedonian agitators to death, and that included Demosthenes. The orator escaped and found refuge at a sanctuary on the island of Poros, where Antipater eventually tracked him down. Feeling totally cornered, Demosthenes took his own life using poison. He was 62 years old.

Years later, and for reasons beyond logical comprehension, Athens erected a statue in honor of their able orator, a tradition that has apparently been perpetrated over many centuries – hence the many statues of Demosthenes we still find in the many museums today.

Pella, the birthplace of Alexander the Great

Pella became the capital of Macedonia in the early 4th century BC. The choice for the location is, as always, made with great care. Situated at the mouth of the Axios River, the city had direct access to the sea, although the harbor has not yet been located. That is not surprising, for today’s Pella lies 25 km inland, as over the past two thousand years, the river has silted up and has covered the remains of the settlement. The land was fertile, however, sloping up gently towards the mountains, which are now part of the Republic of Macedonia. Standing here, it is not difficult to mentally erase the houses and roads and imagine what it may have looked like in Alexander’s days with fields of barley, wheat, and oats, or rows of olive trees followed by fruit trees, mainly peaches and pomegranates – a garden of Eden.

Any first-time visitor to Pella will be struck by the American layout of the street plan, all house blocks of the same size, and all streets crossing each other at a right angle. The east-west roads were nine meters wide, while the north-south streets were a mere six meters. A wider ornamental road, 15 meters wide, ran through the city center to the Agora. Pella knew an excellent water supply, and a close look would reveal the underlying functional system, with at the crossroad a special earthen urn that collected the dirt and could easily be removed for cleaning. The city counted many wells and fountains, combined with an efficient drainage system.

Excavations are ongoing, with the ups and downs that typically go hand in hand with finances. When I was here the first time in 1973, there were only a few pebble mosaic floors amidst a handful of slender Ionic columns; the most precious mosaics leaned against a shack covered with a piece of roofing. Since then, the excavated surface has expanded steadily, and a first small museum housed the earlier exposed mosaics together with marble and terracotta statues, among which a head of Alexander as a young prince and a statue representing him as Pan. Most recently, a new museum has been built where many more artifacts have joined the collection, now exhibited in chronological order.

The true eye-catchers at the Archaeological Museum of Pella are, of course, the pebble mosaics: a Lion Hunt featuring Alexander and Craterus; Dionysus Seated on a Panther and Carrying the Thyrsus Staff; a Griffon Attacking a Deer; and a couple of centaurs. As always, I’m entirely taken by the Tanagra statuettes, among which are those of two ladies playing the lyre, a couple of playful cupids, and several heads with ladies showing all sorts of hairdos. From the potters’ quarters, there is a wide selection of pots, vases, and other vessels, very representative of their period in time. Striking are the ivory and bone elements from now perished wooden kline or couches that have partially been reconstructed. Further, several golden crowns, a wide choice of silver and gold coins, remains of a frescoed wall from the second century BC, a small marble horseman, although decapitated, still carrying a proud posture; a marble inlaid round table, etc.

The mosaics of Pella are quite unique since they are mainly made with pebbles of different sizes, ranging from white to grey to bluish-grey, collected from the nearby beach and arranged in patterns. Here and there, a touch of yellow or red is added to enhance the picture, and the contours are accentuated using bronze strips. The large mosaic of the Rape of Helena has remained in situ under a protective roof. Such dynamics with the horses in full gallop and the dashing dresses; the edges of the panel are trimmed with palmetto and acanthus motives. The next room is paved with a mosaic showing a Deer Hunt, also in full action. This house alone covers a surface of 3,000 m2. The private houses varied in size, and the rooms were arranged around a central courtyard, generally framed by colonnades. Many mosaics have been covered up with sand to protect them, an understandable precaution, but very sad to find them hidden from view.

The Agora, covering 700 m2 in the heart of Pella, underwent thorough restoration, making the layout easier to understand with the six-meter-wide surrounding Stoas that gave access to a wide array of workshops and shops selling food, pottery, jewelry, and more. On the north side, official buildings have been identified, like the Temple of Aphrodite and others supposedly serving the city’s administration. The southwestern side may have housed the archives since many seals used to secure the papyri have been retrieved. More houses were uncovered on the south side of the old main road, which now runs right through the middle of ancient Pella. It is here that the intriguing round Sanctuary of Darron has been identified, whose striking mosaic floor has been transferred to the Museum. 

The Royal Palace of Pella, where Prince Alexander grew up, is located further uphill to the north - still within reach of the city. The Palace alone covers an area of 6 ha and was divided into seven separate complexes, including, beside the living quarters, the necessary storage rooms, rooms reserved for entertainment, service rooms, and even a swimming pool and a palestra. These complexes were, of course, interconnected by corridors and staircases. The royal family must have occupied the most central part, with four large buildings around a large open courtyard. It would be interesting to figure out how close Philip’s wives lived to each other, how much space was occupied by the official administration and military management, where the many visiting delegations were lodged, which rooms the King used to receive his guests, etc. 

The Palace was supposed to open to the public in 2011, but at the last moment, it was decided to restart more archaeological work on the premises. I was not allowed inside, but I could at least walk all the way around it, taking in the view over the city of Pella and the sea beyond. Behind me, the Macedonian landscape was covered with bright spring flowers from the white chamomile and pink hollyhock to the deep red puppies and purple wild onions – an explosion of colors over the rolling hills. It felt like a homecoming, in an intoxicating excitement. The land is pleasantly green, cut through by refreshing, clear streams tumbling down from higher elevations under the blue sky filled with fleets of puffy clouds. This is truly the place where Alexander spent his youth!

Like other boys and young men his age, Alexander would have been hunting boar, foxes, and lions (who have long since gone), probably in the hills to the north. We have the abovementioned mosaic of the Lion Hunt with Craterus to illustrate the hunting parties and also the fresco above the Tomb of Philip at Aegae (modern Vergina). Hunting was a way to train for war and to develop physical and mental skills. Without his friends, Alexander would have had a rather lonely youth since his father was constantly fighting the neighboring tribes and cities in order to extend and stabilize Macedonia. The young prince grew up with the stories of his father’s campaigns that must have fueled his imagination; based on the legends of Troy, he treasured them all his life. Around age twelve, Philip invited Aristotle to teach the young prince and even found an appropriate location at the temple of the Nymphs in Mieza.  These probably were the years when Alexander learned the most in many fields, like literature, topography, biology, zoology, botany, ethics, and even meteorology – a knowledge he shared with his boyhood friends such as Hephaistion, Ptolemy, and Nearchus [see: Mieza, Alexander's schooling]. Alexander’s interest in medicine must have come from these days with Aristotle, a skill he used throughout his life to treat his sick friends.

Macedonia was not an isolated “Barbarian” country as so often stated, but the court had long been a center for culture where envoys, refugees, artists, actors, and delegates from all around the Mediterranean spent time. Alexander’s knowledge of the world extended thus far beyond his homeland, and he and his immediate neighbors must have had quite a broad insight into what was going on in other parts of the ancient world. Theopompus of Chios, who later on wrote a History of Philip, was one of the visitors. Envoys from Sparta, Thebes, Thessaly, and Phocis found their way to Pella. Athens sent several ambassadors to the capital to end the successive Sacred Wars, and we know that negotiators like Demosthenes, Aeschines, Philocrates, and Nausicles participated in these missions. More significant was the presence of Artabazus II, satrap of Hellespontine Phrygia, who revolted against Persian rule and found refuge at Philip’s court. He spent several years there with his wives and children, among which his eldest daughter Barsine. She was about seven years older than Alexander, and we know how they met again many years later when she became his mistress and even bore him a son, Heracles. 

When Philip appointed his 16-year-old son as Regent while he went fighting in the east, Alexander must have realized how much his father trusted him, and at the same time, he recognized him as the official heir to the throne. These feelings were stressed again two years later during the Battle of Chaironeia, where Alexander not only proved his leadership and capability in military matters at the head of the cavalry, but he also crushed the Sacred Band of Thebes, which was known to be invincible; this must have boosted his ego to an even higher level. Alexander must have felt ready to take command, not only of the army but maybe also of the kingdom. Realizing, however, that his father was “only” in his mid-forties and that he would have to wait a very long time to take over his tasks must have been hard to accept. He would have to live in the shadow of his powerful father for another twenty years at least.

Shortly afterward, some worrying situations developed. Philip married for the seventh time, this time with Cleopatra, the niece of one of his leading generals, Attalus, who, during the wedding feast, proclaimed that Macedonia would at last have a legitimate heir to the throne! Alexander’s mother was from Epirus, meaning Alexander was only half Macedonian. Alexander was enraged by Attalus’ remark and asked his father to reprimand his general. He did not, and Alexander promptly left the Macedonian court with his mother. He entrusted her to her brother’s care, Alexandros of Epirus, when he joined the Illyrians, making Philip worry about his earlier peace treaty with them. When the King sobered up, he realized that he had to recall his son, which he did through the intervention of Demaratus of Corinth, a common friend. He also had to make up with his brother-in-law to avoid a possible revolt in the neighboring Epirus. To this purpose, he offered his own daughter in marriage to his wife’s brother, meaning that Alexander’s sister was to marry her uncle. It was during this wedding feast that King Philip II of Macedonia was murdered. 

By the time Alexander celebrated his twentieth birthday, another drama unfolded at the Macedonian court. Philip was approached by Pixodarus of Caria for a marriage alliance. Philip put his eldest (half-witted) son Arrhidaeus forward to marry Ada, the younger daughter of Pixodarus. When Alexander heard the news, he felt overlooked and secretly sent the tragic actor Thettalus to renegotiate the deal, presenting himself instead of Arrhidaeus. When Philip got wind of this plot behind his back, it was his turn to be furious, for he was still King and ruler of Macedonia, not his son. As a punishment, he exiled a group of Alexander’s closest friends – among them Nearchus, Ptolemy, Harpalus, and Erigyius – and warned his son not to interfere in his plans ever again. It is known that Alexander rewarded his friends later on for their loyalty to high positions in his army. 

A few months later, the wedding of Cleopatra and Alexandros of Epirus was to be celebrated at Aegae in great pomp. This is when King Philip II was murdered. Alexander became the new king of Macedonia. This story will be tackled next under the title, Aegae, where Alexander's world changed forever.

End of the Third Sacred War and Peace with Athens - Macedonia forged by Philip II - 9

End of the Third Sacred War and Peace with Athens (346 BC)

An embassy of ten men was sent to Pella to discuss ‘peace and the common interests of Athens and Philip’ (see: Demosthenes). This would be the first of four embassies. Personally, I find this passage very exciting because of the vivid and captivating story told by Mary Renault in her book Fire from Heaven, featuring young Alexander.  The ten envoys traveled to Pella in March 346 BC, when Alexander was about ten years old. Among them were great names like Philocrates, Nausicles, Demosthenes, and Aeschines. Each had prepared his speech on the proposed alliance and peace, and they had decided to speak in order of age, the youngest last and this happened to be Demosthenes after Aeschines who tells us that he began “in a voice dead with fright, and after a brief narration of earlier events suddenly fell silent and was at a loss for words, … Seeing the state he was in, Philip encouraged him to take heart and not to suppose that he had suffered a complete catastrophe. … But Demosthenes … was now unable to recover; he tried once more to speak, and the same thing happened.” What an appearance for such an orator!

Having listened graciously to every ambassador, Philip told them that he recognized Athens’ claim to the Chersonese, their corn route to the Black Sea. On the subject of the Sacred War, he made believe through his usual confusing diplomacy that he would consider the protection of the Phocians but he needed Athens’ full guarantee to support him in this matter. In other words, he meant to exclude Phocis from the treaty. As to the Athenian prisoners taken at Olynthus in 348 BC, he would release them without ransom as soon as they had accepted his terms – a handy gesture to put their fate in Athens’ hands. In short, Philip’s idea was that of a bilateral agreement between him and his allies on one side and Athens and their allies on the other.

As soon as the embassy left, Philip set off to Thracia to clean up all their independent forts along the coastline, but not before he had sent Antipater, Parmenion, and Eurylochus to Athens to repeat his terms of peace and received Athens’ consent in return. The news was buzzing in Athens’ Assembly, which at first was inclined to accept Philip’s proposal but Demosthenes had to put his own twist as usual and persuaded the Assembly to go for a Common Peace in which every state was free to join. Of course, this was refused by Antipater when he was called in the next day for that were not his king’s terms. In the end, the Athenians and their allies swore their oaths to the peace and alliance to Macedonia.

The Macedonian envoys left Athens which prepared a second delegation with the same men to set off to Pella. Since Philip was still warring in Thracia, the Athenians sat there waiting for some time while Demosthenes filled his days with brooding schemes. After Philip gave his oath to peace, the company left and collected the oaths from the king’s allies on their way back to Athens. By this treaty, the war between Athens and Amphipolis finally came to an end.

Philip then played his own political maneuver with Thebes which in the end forced the Phocians to surrender, not to the Amphictyonic Council as they should, but to Philip. How that went down with the Athenians in 346 BC, I don’t know. They must have been relieved to learn that the Third Sacred War was now over and that Delphi finally was liberated – Apollo’s crowned soldiers had done their job!

At this stage, the punishment of Phocis had to be decided and the Athenians once more sent an embassy to Philip, without Demosthenes this time, who thought he could do more harm to Philip talking to the people of Athens… It is this delegation that attended the Amphictyonic Council instead of Athens. Several states wanted to impose the legal penalty for sacrilege, whereby all the Phocian males would be thrown from the Phaedriades cliffs of Delphi. Since Philip did not want to take sides for or against Phocis he managed to obtain a milder punishment, meaning that those who had participated in the occupation and robbery of Delphi would be cursed, their lands confiscated, their membership to the Council withdrawn, their weapons and horses taken away. Phocis itself would not be allowed to consult the oracle and the people couldn’t buy any horses until they had repaid the money stolen from Delphi’s treasury. The exact sum is not known but seems to vary between 1,622 and 3,244 talents, a considerable amount of money in any case.

To reward Philip for the liberation of Apollo’s treasury, Thessaly proposed to give Phocis two votes in the Council to Philip, who as Archon automatically held at least half of all the votes already. These two votes, however, were Philip’s in his own right, whereby he became an official member of the Amphictyonic Council  – no small achievement for a ‘barbarian’ king!

Click here to read the full story about Philip II from the beginning

The Immortal Alexander the Great. The Hermitage Museum in Amsterdam.

Just brace yourself, for the treasures from this exhibition will leave an everlasting impression on the visitor’s poor soul! In a way, the many artifacts are meant to convince the public that Alexander is indeed “immortal” if ever such a need existed. In my eyes and in the eyes of his many admirers over the centuries, this statement is redundant. Throughout history, the adulation of Alexander has regularly made the headlines. 

We all know how the Roman Emperors admired him, starting with Caesar, who allegedly was deeply moved when he visited Alexander’s Tomb in Alexandria. But even less valorous Emperors like Caligula and Caracalla liked to dress up like him, posing with his shield and helmet. During the Middle Ages, we saw the evolution of the Alexander Romance, a collection of the most fantastic stories based on actual facts. The Persians revived him as Iskander the Two-Horned with colorful miniatures in their delicate manuscripts. Closer to home, we find rulers like Catherine the Great of Russia and Louis XIV of France, who envied his name and achievements, and we owe them a true Alexander cult that erupted all over Europe.

In today’s world, we take a more analytical point of view when we look at Alexander’s life and heritage, where our critical eye leaves nearly no room for imagination or even appreciation. However, the outcome remains unchanged, for Alexander left an everlasting imprint on the lands and the peoples he conquered. He cannot have done this on purpose, for how could he have foreseen how deeply Hellenism would revolutionize the world then and now? Traces of his Hellenism may not be so evident, but they are still very much present in our daily lives. Look closer at our churches, cathedrals, villas, museums, palaces, etc. Often, their facades are embellished with Greek columns and pediments enhanced with Greek figures in their decorations. How many sculptors, jewelers, and potters from Europe to China to America have copied Hellenistic statues, jewels, and vases? How deeply have these influences touched our daily lives, time and again?

Useless to mention that my expectations are running high when I rush through the entrance gate of the Hermitage Museum as the very first visitor of the day. The Museum is in an old 17th-century building with a thoroughly modernized interior. The layout is well thought out with the latest technologies, and the friendly personnel are a pleasant bonus.

The exhibition starts on the first floor with The Myth of Alexander the Great, illustrated by 17th-century paintings of Alexander. I could have done without them, for the Alexander who is portrayed here gives, in my eyes, an exaggerated and deformed image. We find Pietro Antonio Rotari ‘s work of Alexander and Roxane; Sebastiano Ricci depicting Alexander’s court-painter Apelles while he is painting Campaspe; and Charles Le Brun, an excellent artist, no doubt, who knew how to please Louis XIV. But none of this meets my personal vision of Alexander, although the paintings themselves are excellent. On the opposite wall, we can admire panels by Antoine Marie Melotte (from nearby Liège in Belgium), who has translated Le Brun’s painting into wood carvings, and at the far end of this room, a magnificent tapestry made in Brussels (1661-1695) representing Alexander with the Family of King Darius. But my heart skips a few beats when I reach the Hellenistic and Roman statues in the second half of this room.

This section is about Alexander’s Reality. It starts with the world in which Alexander grew up in Macedonia, amidst his godly forefathers and mythical heroes. The eye-catchers are two huge statues, evidently Roman copies of Greek originals, one representing Heracles with the apples (2nd century) and the other Dionysus/Bacchus (2nd century, after an original from the 4th-3rd century BC). I prefer the smaller Herakles killing a Nemean lion (2nd-3rd century AD) in full action with tense muscles; very realistic. Next to it stands a relatively complete marble statue of young Eros ready to shoot his arrow from his drawn bow. This is a Roman copy, just like the identical statue I know from the Louvre in Paris. Nice to meet his brother here! At the far end, I met up with two names familiar to Alexander, Aeschines depicted on a marble medallion from 150 AD, and the head of Demosthenes, a Roman copy of 100-125 AD from a Greek original by Polyeuktes.

The showcases are filled with weapons and armament, a 16th-century steel breastplate covered with bone scales and lion masks, a pattern that goes back to antiquity. In contrast, there is a substantial Greek breastplate with a frightening-looking Medusa in its center, dating back to the 5th-4th century BC and found in the northern area of the Black Sea – something Alexander must have known.

The set would not be complete without a collection of Greek vases, mainly with a black background like the hydria from about 500 BC showing Achilles and Polyxena, or the volute-krater carrying a picture of offerings, dating from 340-330 BC, found in Apulia (Southern Italy). The heroic figure of Achilles occupies a central place in Alexander’s life and in the decoration of the various vases, so again on another black-figured hydria from Attica (510 BC), where Achilles is bending over the body of Hector – a very famous scene.

The central part of this section covers Alexander’s Journey, a word that apparently prevails over the appellation “conquests.” Visitors can follow the road of Alexander's entire expedition on the computer with interactive maps. Still, the images move too fast if you ask me, and I wonder if anyone who looks at Alexander’s route for the first time can follow his progress and realize his impact. I have my doubts.

Luckily, the exhibition continues chronologically, starting with Alexander’s crossing into Asia (today’s Turkey), his progress through Syria to Egypt, and from there to Persia and Babylonia, to reach Bactria (the northeastern part of today’s Afghanistan), and finally even India. Not only do we see what Alexander must have seen, but more so the imprints of what he left behind, i.e., the Greek influence on local art and the local way of life. It goes without saying that I have never seen most of these artifacts, not even in pictures, for they never or seldom leave the Hermitage in St Petersburg. I even wonder whether the tourists in St Petersburg will see all of this, for the Hermitage Palace is far too big and the visits, from what I have heard, are far too short.

Anyway, there are several striking pieces I want to highlight here. First, there is a small marble head of Alexander from the 1st century, evidently a Roman copy of a Greek original (most certainly by Lysippos). Although somewhat damaged, it is still very similar. Then, a portrait study of one of the Ptolemies from Egypt (3rd-1st century BC), illustrating the impact of Alexander’s general Ptolemy and his offspring on Egypt. There is also an impressive collection of cameos made of sardonyx. I particularly remember the one portraying Alexander hunting boar from the 1st century AD (from Italy), the one of Alexander-Helios, son of Cleopatra VII and Marc Anthony, depicted as Horus-Harpocrates from the 1st century BC (from Egypt); the twin portraits of Ptolemy II Philadelphos and Arsinoe II from the 3rd century BC, i.e., the so-called Gonzaga cameo (from Alexandria); the Triumph of Dionysos from the 1st century BC (also from Alexandria) and an excellent Zeus with brown curly hair from the 3rd century BC (again from Alexandria). Pictures of these precious pieces can be found under the Dutch tab Beeldmateriaal van de Hermitage (not available in English, unfortunately).

More thrilling items are luring from all sides! In the Egyptian showcase, and as a matter of course, I come across Cleopatra VII of Egypt, a delicate basalt statue from 51-30 BC with clear Hellenistic elements. This is the Cleopatra we all know as Queen of Egypt, although she unmistakably has Macedonian blood from the first Ptolemy running through her veins. New to me is to hear that besides Caesarion, her son with Caesar, she had three more children, this time with Marc Anthony: a son, Alexander-Helios (see above), and twins, a girl and a boy. After Cleopatra’s death, the children were raised by the sister of Octavian, the imperial victor, after which they entirely disappeared from history. I was unaware of this part of her life; I learned something new today. I’m also quite surprised by the bronze head of a “Hellenistic ruler with helmet” that looks Egyptian but is not. It probably originates from the Eastern Mediterranean and should belong to the 2nd-1st century BC. 

Then unexpectedly, I am walking among life-size heads, Roman copies, of course, like the marble bust of Achilles that somehow reminds me of Alexander and is copied from an original from 170-160 BC, and the head of Meleagros, also from a Greek original from 350-340 BC. Striking and obviously, Hellenistic is the marble head of Mithridates VI Eupator from Pergamon, dated 90-80 BC. The relief fragment from Iran also demands some attention: it represents a royal guard from about 500 BC belonging either to Xerxes or Darius. Lovely to see this at eye level.

Scattered among these statues and statuettes, I’m enchanted to find a collection of coins from all corners of Alexander’s Empire. First, there are coins of Alexander himself with ram’s horns, lion head, or elephant skin, and of Alexander’s successors in similar attire. The gold stater with Alexander from Macedonia is an inevitable eye-catcher, and the Bactrian coin where the ruler wears a kind of sun helmet looks very familiar too. Initially, only gods and goddesses were depicted on these coins, and I noticed a remarkable silver one with the profile of Zeus, whose hair is made of oak leaves. Take a good, close look, for this is really something unique.

Nike, the goddess of Victory, was also very popular, not only on coins (there is a wonderful golden one on display here) but also in jewelry like the golden-winged earrings from the mid-4th century BC, in a typical Greek representation, which is believed to be a reduced copy from a monumental statue. Most charming are the earrings set with a dove pendant sitting on a small swing that must go back and forth with each move of the wearer’s head. The dove is dressed in colored glass and hessonite (cinnamon-colored quartz). This jewel was made in Alexandria in the 2nd century BC. 

Athena is also present, of course, and the seal ring of Athena Nikeforos really deserves some attention. This ring is pure Greek from the 4th century BC and was found in the Northern Black Sea region. Such craftsmanship in those days! While talking about gold, I’d like to mention a few rare items. There is, for instance, a remarkably well-preserved golden bowl with handles in the shape of animals from Persia dating from the 5th-4th century BC; a golden quiver (gorytos) with action scenes from the life of Achilles from the Northern Black Sea area dated 350-325 BC; and finally the many golden Greek olive crowns from the same region, mid-4th century BC – there must have been lots of them for they keep turning up so often in so many different sites. And finally, a gorgeous golden choker from East Iran, dated 5^th-3^rd century BC.

Finally, there are miscellaneous objects, among which are striking bronze and silver bowls and beakers. I admire an excellent silver drinking cup (kylix) with Helios's figure in his carriage at the bottom and a bronze Hellenistic head used as a decorative element on a chariot - both from the 3^rd century BC. Here, I come face to face with the silver-gilded Phaleras, larger than I imagined them, showing scenes of fighting elephants in a straightforward mixture of Greek and Asiatic elements, dated 3^rd-2^nd century BC, and found in East Iran. All in all, too much to make a complete list, but they deserve our attention. I can’t get enough of it, of course!

The exhibition now continues on the second floor. This part is only about Alexander’s Legacy, but I have to admit I expected more convincing material. A few papyri were written in Greek to prove that this language was still used after the Arabs conquered the Middle East. From here, it is only a short step to the Middle-Age concoction of the Alexander Romance and the miniature illustrations of Iskander in the Persian literature of the 15th and 16th centuries. I’m not too impressed with these exhibits, for they are far from Alexander's “Greek” image.

Last but not least, we reach the pomp and circumstance of the Russian Court, which I think is exaggerated like the Alexander statue cut at the end of the 18th century from walrus bones – a meager figure on horseback. A more rewarding result has been achieved with the vast bronze clock from the end of the 19th century, where Alexander is (very idealistically) depicted while reading. The story goes that Alexander wanted to avoid falling asleep at any cost, so he held an iron ball in one hand. If his attention lapsed or he was about to fall asleep, the ball would slip from his hand and fall into the bowl underneath with a loud rattle. He would be sure to resume his reading after that. A charming tale, but we are looking at an elegant, attractive, and handsome Alexander. Pictures and photographs show only his face, which is a pity, for I’m taken by his entire posture, delicate sandals, and elegant chair with his weapons leaning against it – not to mention the fine relief that runs all around the base of the clock.

To prove that Alexander the Great is still a topical figure in our times, there is a reference to the movie Oliver Stone made in 2004. And I say “luckily” because the film has been rejected by many audiences and historians. These critics, in my mind, do him wrong and are definitely without foundation. The old movie with Richard Burton never got such criticism, far from it, and that movie is absolutely horrible to watch.

Well, that’s it. In the wide corridor on the way downstairs, you can stop at four monumental pictures by Erwin Olaf, who made a photographic interpretation of Alexander. This man, at least, understood what was expected of him when he was asked to combine objects from this exhibition with life figures. This is great art, and it pays off to take a moment to watch these superb creations. For your information, one of his photos is shown on the billboards for this exhibition. Had he lived, Alexander would undoubtedly have been flattered!

In short, this exhibition does credit to its name: The Immortal Alexander the Great. Alexander has defied the centuries, and 2,300 years after his death, he still lives on in our imagination. If that does not mean being “immortal,” what does?