Who were the Parthians?

The name of the Parthians often raises questions, and their territory is hard to define. Scholars have established that the tribe of the Parthians may be closely linked to the Scythians who lived southeast of the Caspian Sea. 

The Parthians appeared in history after the death of Alexander the Great, when Seleucos inherited the largest portion of the lands he had conquered in the east, from the eastern Mediterranean to Bactria and India. Seleucos kept the existing Persian governing system of satraps in place, and at an early stage, Parthia became one of its satrapies. 

Seleucos founded the Seleucid Empire and soon discovered that ruling such a vast territory was a nearly impossible task. As the empire weakened, the Parthians revolted and established their independence. 

The first king of Parthia was Arsaces, who came to power in 247 BC. Not for long, as the Seleucid King Antiochus III managed to reconquer Parthia in 209 BC from Arsaces’ son, the new king Arsaces II. For some unknown reason, Antiochus did not want to kill his enemy and established him instead as satrap. This did not sit well with the Parthian nobility, and as soon as Antiochus left for Syria, they deposed Arsaces II and proclaimed Phriapatius as their new king in 191 BC. 

Meanwhile, the Romans subdued Antiochus III according to the Treaty of Apamea, signed in 188 BC. Now that the Seleucid King was no longer a threat, Phriapatius’ son, Phraates, took heart and conquered the territories between Hyrcania in the east and Media in the southwest. He created a solid base for his brother Mithridates, who succeeded him on the throne in 171 BC. 

At this point, Parthia started a new era. Mithridates conquered the Bactrian kingdom in 168 BC and then turned west. He took Media from Phraates in 151 BC and then focused on Mesopotamia. He captured the capital city of Seleucia, followed by Babylon in 141 BC, and Susa three years later. 

Phraates II, Mithridates’ son, continued the fight for power. A worthy successor to his father, but his power was short-lived as he soon died in an attempt to stop a Scythian mutiny. From then onward, Parthia would be torn by successive uprisings and battles. After the death of Phraates II, Parthia was ruled by his uncle, Artabanus I, who crushed several revolts in his short life. 

His son, Mithridates II, in turn, would become Parthia’s greatest ruler (124-91 BC). He strengthened his position in Bactria, Mesopotamia, Characene (on the Iran-Iraq border where Alexander had founded Alexandria-on-the-Tigris, modern Charax Spasinou), and the realm of Babylon. He also annexed the lands of Albania and Armenia, together with the vital Syrian city of Dura-Europos on the Euphrates. Roughly, the Parthian Empire now stretched from the Mediterranean all the way to China! 

No wonder Parthia was very much coveted by the rising Roman Empire and lost several territories, including Armenia. The tables were turned in 53 BC when Crassus invaded Parthia near Carrhae (see: Harran, better known under its Roman name Carrhae) and lost. Rome suffered a severe psychological blow. The situation worsened when Marc Antony was defeated in 32 BC in an effort to keep hold of Armenia. After decades of constant fighting, Emperor Augustus secured a peace agreement with King Phraates IV in 20 BC. Instead of fighting each other, both rulers agreed to unite their efforts against enemies outside their borders. 

No treaty lasted forever, and after several skirmishes back and forth, Emperor Trajan invaded Mesopotamia in 115 AD, looting the capital cities of Seleucia and Ctesiphon. At about the same time, Parthia was invaded on its eastern border by the Kushans, who established their empire in Bactria. 

However, two years later, Parthia, now ruled by Vologases IV, was invaded by Hadrian, Trajan’s successor. Lucius Verus, the adopted son of Marcus Aurelius, followed suit and sacked Seleucia and Ctesiphon once again. The Parthians managed somehow to expel the Romans, but like a Jack-in-the-Box, they returned in 198 AD. 

This time, Emperor Septimius Severus invaded Mesopotamia and marched down to take the Parthian-held cities of Seleucia, Babylon, and Ctesiphon. It makes one wonder how often cities are destroyed and rebuilt over the centuries. 

I now better understand the significance of the Severan bridge I crossed many years ago on my way to Mount Nemrud. At that time, I wondered what could have been so important in this god-forsaken, steaming hot land to need a bridge! It crossed the Cedere River, a tributary of the Euphrates. It is possibly the second-largest still-existing Roman bridge, with a length of 120 meters and a span of 34 meters. Two Corinthian columns of 9-10 meters guard either side of the bridge. One set is erected in honor of Septimius Severus and his wife Julia Domna, and the other for their two sons, Caracalla and Geta.

 

The weakened Parthian Empire finally collapsed when it was overthrown by King Ardashir, the founder of the Sassanid Empire, in 224 AD. That is another story altogether (see: Sassanid reliefs tell a story of their own in Persia).

The concept of the caravanserai

It was in Turkey that I saw my very first caravanserai, probably the best example around, and it left an everlasting impression. It happened in the busy town of Kervansaray, halfway between Aksaray and Konya.

This was many years ago, and at the time, I was told that the Ottomans built hans (storage areas) and caravanserais (inns) to protect and accommodate the merchants moving on the busy caravan routes, like, for instance, the Silk Road. Large caravans of camels carrying silk and spices from China would make their way to Bursa, the then capital of the Ottoman Empire. These convenient stopovers were meant to stimulate business, of course. However, they also served as social gathering places and eventually led to further expansion of the Empire.

Later on, I discovered that these caravanserais could be found alongside the entire network of trade routes, mainly throughout southeastern Europe and Asia. Also, the very concept was not an Ottoman invention as I was led to believe initially, but existed already in Achaemenid Persia and even in Assyria.

All in all, I always found these caravanserais highly fascinating, but my encounter with the Sultan Han or Sultanhani in Kervansaray always remains my standard reference point. This quite impressive building covers a surface of 4,900 m2 and dates from 1226. It is much larger than a castle and is fortified similarly, with strong defense towers at the corners. It has a rectangular shape, much deeper than wide, with one single entrance gate to ensure security. This gate is decorated with lace brickwork, as seen on mosques, and gives access to a large open courtyard measuring 44 x 58 meters. At its center stands a square, two-story high kiosk-mosque, which is said to be the oldest example in Turkey.

Along the inner wall on the right runs a shady arcade in front of the merchants’ sleeping quarters. The opposite side is mainly occupied by a hamam where the tired traveler can relax. At the far end of this courtyard, there seems to be another gate, but this is the entrance to the area where the merchants could safely store their goods and shelter their horses, camels, and donkeys. This space with high vaults reminds me of a cathedral, ensuring warmth in winter and coolness in summer. High above the transept, a small octagonal windowed dome acts as a lantern, filtering the light. It strikes me as a comfortable, safe haven where the weary traveler could rest in peace. This important meeting point was also used to sell or swap their merchandise. This is so much more ingenious than one can imagine!

Another, very much commercialized caravanserai is the one in Ilhara in Cappadocia. This one has been heavily restored to be used for the entertainment of tourists.

A few years later, I visited the han of Alara-han on the road from Alanya to Antalya. This building is relatively small and measures only 34.5 x 45m. An inscription above the entrance gate tells us that it was built in 1231 by Alaeddin Keykubad I. It is said that it served the needs of the sultan when he traveled from Konya to his winter quarters in Alanya. Maybe that explains the size. Although this han is hailed for its construction technique, details, and proportions, I am not impressed. It has been converted into a true tourist attraction with the inevitable souvenir shops, restaurants, and gathering places of all kinds.

In Syria, I am confronted with the caravanserai of Qalaat al-Madiq, actually located at the foot of the ancient city of Apamea. This is a sizable building from the 16^th century displaying a fully paved courtyard. In the middle is a stairway that once led to the well, but it has now been sealed off. Overall, the caravanserai has not been tended with care, but interestingly, it houses a few select finds from Apamea. The best and most beautiful artifact is the Roman mosaic of Socrates and the Wise Men from the 3^rd century AD.  Unfortunately, I am not allowed to take pictures inside!

Iran, in turn, came with its own surprises of caravanserais. Here, they often stand in the middle of the desert, battered and withered by the wind and sand. Their lonely location is usually connected to the precious qanats that brought the much-needed water to the site (see: The qanats, one of the greatest inventions of mankind).

Nongobade exhibits an entire series of such vital stopovers. Well-preserved is the caravanserai from the Seljuk era, 13th century, followed by another one from Safavid times, i.e., 17th century. The old city of Na’in at the edge of Iran’s Central Desert seems to have grown around its caravanserai and nearby cistern, whose water supply was guaranteed by qanats. The adjacent wind towers added to the comfort of the caravans.

In Isfahan, the capital created and built by Shah Abbas in 1598, the Abbasi Hotel is worth a visit since it was initially another important caravanserai. Unlike the “modernization” of the Alara-han, this conversion into a luxurious hotel is a success story. The large central courtyard has been transformed into a lush garden with fountains and pleasant alleys. Knowing the world-famous Maidan Square, the size of this construction is not surprising. For Shah Abbas, big was better, and that idea has spread all over his city. The story goes that he built 999 of these caravanserais. True or not, in any case, Abbas thought that people would believe that number rather than if he rounded it to one thousand. PR avant la lettre, yes?

Last but not least, I have to mention Uzbekistan in Central Asia. We are well aware that Bukhara and Samarkand stand on the Silk Road, and it is obvious to find caravanserais in those cities. I may not have noticed all of them, but in Bukhara, for instance, I visited the Sayfiddin Caravanserai from the 19^th century, which is now one of the places selling carpets and other handicrafts.

On the road from Bukhara to Samarkand, I passed the Barboti Malik caravanserai from the 11^th century. The place is pretty isolated, more in the middle of nowhere than alongside a major route. This caravanserai is in a pretty poor state; only the façade has been re-erected, while all the other outer and inner walls are only reconstructed to a height of approximately one meter. It is easy to imagine what a safe haven such a place must have been to the traveler, considering the surrounding hostile lands. On the other side of the road is the ever-required water reservoir, a Sardova from the 14^th century. This is an impressive vaulted construction that protects the water from dust and pollution while offering a clean spot to drink and water the animals. To me, it is evident that this entire construction covers an old well that has been used over the centuries by local sheep and cattle herders, as well as by the merchants on this busy east-west road.

The sheer number of these hans and caravanserais is inevitably linked to the Silk Road that crisscrossed Eurasia in general (see: The Silk Road, some historical aspects of this trade route). 

For me, of course, the diversity and presence of these caravanserais give an insight into the welcome stops Alexander may have encountered on his desert crossings. It is impossible that they served the entire Macedonian army, but the proximity of water must have been a precious asset.

After all, Alexander followed the old Persian Roads whenever possible, and these were strung with such relay posts every 30 or 40 kilometers or so. The posts certainly could not provide fresh horses for an army. However, I secretly think that the king himself may have “borrowed” an animal or two during his wild pursuit of Darius in northeast Persia. In any case, he must have welcomed whatever comfort they offered and, in these vast deserts, water was a major commodity.

The art of creating purple dye

Purple dye made from the tiny murex shell pops up on a regular base throughout antiquity. It was an expensive coloring material reserved for royalty and other people of high rank who could afford it. With it, came the symbol of power and prestige which was particularly exploited by the Roman emperors and their ladies parading with their flashy robes.

The fashion seems to have started in ancient Phoenicia, where the shells were widely harvested. As these seafarers settled in new colonies around the Mediterranean, their craft and knowledge soon spread with Carthage at its center. The Romans eyed the wealth and prosperity of Carthage, and that included this much-coveted purple dye. It is not surprising that the emperors took control of this industry since the business was very lucrative. Petra was such a hub where purple cloth and other precious goods transited on their way between Arabia Felix (modern Yemen) and the Mediterranean. The Romans eventually took control of that trade route.

However, purple spread over the ancient world much earlier. The Macedonians, for instance, used purple fabric to wrap the cremated bones of their kings before placing them inside a precious larnax (see: The Tomb of King Philip II of Macedonia). It has been reported that Alexander himself wore purple for everyday use. If we look closely at the mosaic retrieved from the House of the Faun in Pompeii, we recognize the now faded purple-grey of his tunic that originally was deep purple (see: Alexander’s battle outfit).

On several occasions during his campaign in Persia, Alexander’s booty included purple cloth. In Susa alone, he collected more than 100 tons of the precious cloth (see: Alexander’s treasure at Kyinda). This is irrefutable proof that this expensive product was widely available among those who could afford it. In any case, there still was enough material available at the time Alexander organized the Grand Susa Wedding in 324 BC. It has been documented that the floor of his vast ceremonial tent was covered with purple carpets embroidered with gold.

The Persian Empire had amassed an unbelievable amount of wealth since the days of Cyrus the Great. This ruler’s tomb in Pasargadae, for instance, was carpeted with purple rugs. Also the mattress, on which Cyrus’ remains were resting, was colored purple. Median trousers and robes were dyed in a wide range of colors, the most prominent ones being hyacinth and purple.

Persepolis was another place rich with purple draperies and carpets. Diodorus states that the Persian wealth had even rubbed off onto the ordinary people who possessed “garments tainted with sea purple and embroidered with gold.”

The custom of wearing purple was perpetrated down to Seleucos I Nicator as seen on the rare mosaic from Apamea (see: The unique mosaic from Apamea), and to the Indian King Sopeithes, who ruled over a city on the Hydaspes River, tentatively identified as Bhera (see: The realm of King Sopeithes included modern Bhera?)  

This popularity of purple brings me to the next question: How exactly was this Tyrian or Phoenician dye made? The recipe has remained mostly secret until today as only a handful of people around the world knew the techniques involved.

The Archaeology News Network recently published a very revealing article about a man from Tunisia (to which Carthage belonged in antiquity) who started the long quest in search of the tricks of the trade. It is quite amazing to hear that neither archaeologists nor historians or experts in chemistry and dying technique know how to find and recuperate the dye from the murex shell. No historical document apparently provides any detailed information about the production method involved.

[Picture from Archaeology News Network (Credit: Fetih Belaid/AFP)]

Mohamed Ghassen Nouira, who runs a consulting company, had to start his investigation from scratch. Initially, he thought it would be enough to crush the whole shell in the hope of seeing how the concealed sea snail would release its fascinating color. He spent years on the project, confessing that he had to get used to the foul stench first. Who would have thought of that? In the end, he discovered that the dye is contained in the guts of the sea snail. The exact procedure is now a secret this Tunisian is carefully keeping to himself.

Artists, as well as researchers, are his main customers in the international market. Current prices range from $2,800 to $4,000 per gram, but our Tunisian man claims he sells his pure purple dye for less money. Well, considering that it takes 100 kg of murex shell to obtain one single gram of dye, it is not surprising that prices are sky-high.

As mentioned in the book The Macedonian War Machine by David Karunanithy, the final color could vary from rose-pink through bright red and blue to deep purple, depending on the strength of the dye used and its degree of exposure to sunlight. One seashell fits all, right?

It would be great if the wish of Mohamed Ghassen Nouira to have his work exhibited in the Tunisian museums would materialize. I think many other countries, especially around the Mediterranean Sea, should be interested as well. This ancient tradition truly deserves to be kept alive.

Alexandria on the Oxus is at Kampyr Tepe

As mentioned earlier in my blog About Alexandria on the Oxus, the Russian archaeologist Edvard Rtveladze has been digging at Kampyr-Tepe since 2015, a strategic location even today as it is situated on the border between Afghanistan and Uzbekistan.

[Picture from The Telegraph, Credit: Maximum Exposure]

So far, it had been established that Kampyr-Tepe was a Graeco-Macedonian fortress, raising the question of whether it had been founded by Alexander the Great and if this was his Alexandria on the Oxus or Alexandria Oxiana. Until now, that Alexandria was thought to be located at the confluence of the Kokcha River and the Oxus River, i.e., at Ai-Khanoum in Afghanistan. 

Patience and determination certainly paid off for Rtveladze, for after finding a sanctuary, a treasury, and a harbor with distinct Hellenistic characteristics, he finally unearthed the main gate this year. It is said to be identical to that of Sillyum in Pamphylia. If so, we can match it to the gates of Perge and Termessos in Turkey and that of Apamea in Syria as well. They all share this typical semi-oval shape on the inner side of the gate. To find that same pattern this far east can only have happened in the wake of Alexander. What a revelation!

Thanks to the discovery of a new coin depicting Apollo and analysis of other layers of Kampyr-Tepe, the foundation of Alexandria on the Oxus could be dated to the 320s BC, which matches Alexander’s campaign in Central Asia perfectly. This was not the case for Ai-Khanoum.

Later this autumn, Edvard Rtveladze will return to Kampyr-Tepe to further investigate the main gate. Besides the citadel and the upper city that were revealed earlier (see: About Alexandria on the Oxus), the main temple dedicated to Demeter has been located, as well as the river crossing.

Unfortunately, there is no picture available on the gate at Kampyr-Tepe yet.

Dating the foundation of Apamea

It has taken much time and in-depth study, but in the end, Prof. Marek T. Olszewski from the University of Warsaw has reached the conclusion that Apamea was founded in 320 BC by Antipater and his son Cassander.

The theory had been suggested earlier (see: New theory about the foundation of Apamea) upon examination of the photographs of sections of a large mosaic that was discovered and looted in 2011 (see: The unique mosaic from Apamea). As the mosaics disappeared through illegal channels, the scholars only had these pictures taken shortly after the artwork had been unearthed to go by.

[Credit: Anonymous photographer, image modified and sharpened by D. Zielinska]

It had been established that the mosaics were probably made in de 4^th century AD but the presence of Antipater and Cassander was still raising questions. Until now, archaeologists thought that Apamea had been founded around 330 BC by Alexander the Great as Pella. A closer examination led them to believe that Pella was a Macedonian fortress founded after Alexander died in 320 BC; or that it was built by Antigonus Monophthalmus between 307 and 304 BC.

The latest analysis, however, is leading to a different conclusion. The mosaics do indeed show the foundation of the city (apparently on top of the fortress of Pella) in 320 BC by Antipater, who was still Regent of Alexander’s Empire after his death, and Cassander, who was commanding the Macedonian cavalry.

Around 300 BC, Seleucos I Nicator took the city calling it Apamea, as he named it after his wife, Apame. As an exception, she is being shown in the picture as well (a rare and unique event) sitting behind the table on which gold and silver coins are piled up to be used for the (re)construction of the new city (see: More illegal mosaics from Apamea).

Based on their latest analysis, researchers now agree that the discovery of these mosaics is very important for the history of the Middle East in Hellenistic times. They also believe that these pictures are inspired by paintings and texts from that era that have not reached us.

Apamea remained a powerful military center under the Seleucids and beyond when it became part of the Roman Empire. In the 4^th century AD, when these mosaics were created, the city was promoted to the capital of the Roman province of Syria Secunda. As such, it survived till the Persians destroyed it in the 7^th century AD. Apamea was eventually rebuilt to be finally abandoned after the severe earthquake of 1152.

It is most unfortunate that so much of the archaeological site of Apamea has been destroyed by IS and looters since my visit in 2009, hardly two years before the outbreak of the civil war in Syria. It will take more time still before law and order are restored in that part of the world.

New theory about the foundation of Apamea

In an earlier blog (see: Apamea, heritage of Alexander), I mentioned how the Macedonian military camp of Pella may have been founded by Alexander when he returned from Egypt in 331 BC.

The Hellenistic mosaics of Apamea that surfaced after clandestine excavations in October 2011 (see: The unique mosaic of Apamea and More illegal mosaics from Apamea) have triggered a new interpretation of the city’s history.

An in-depth study made by Marek Titien Olszewski and Houmam Saad and published by Academia.eu establishes that the foundation of Pella took place shortly after the Treaty of Triparadeisus in 321 BC upon the initiative of Antipater and inspired by Cassander.

By 300 BC, Seleucos renamed the city Apamea after his wife, Apame. Under his rule, it was turned into a military base where he kept 500 elephants and an extensive stud of 30,000 mares and 300 stallions.

A Census carried out in the year 6 AD, established that the population of Apamea reached at least 130,000 people – maybe even 500,000. All in all, a major city worthy of Alexander and his Successors!

More illegal mosaics from Apamea

When I wrote my previous blog, The unique mosaic from Apamea, I was not aware that there was more of the kind to follow. There is a much larger mosaic estimated to cover at least 19 m2 that is also high on INTERPOL’s list of illegal digs at Apamea in Syria.

Besides the panel discussed previously showing the foundation of Apamea by Seleucos I with his son Antiochus I, there are three more panels coming from the same source. Because of their size and magnificence, this entire mosaic is assumed to belong to a large room from a wealthy Roman residence. The top one depicts the foundation of Pella (as Apamea was called previously) by the legendary Archippos. The bottom panels illustrate the construction of a fortification wall around the city that holds monumental public buildings.

Based on the clandestine photographs of this floor, it seems that the very lower part and half of the central zone are missing. What remains is, however, of the highest quality and has been compared to the paintings from the tomb of Agios Athanasios (see: The Macedonian Tomb of Agios Athanasios in Thessaloniki) – not without ground.

The top mosaic portraying the religious foundation of Pella shows five Macedonian cavalrymen with their horses, shields, and spears on the right-hand side and five figures making cult offerings in the left corner. Three of these men have been identified as their names are inscribed in Greek. We read Archippos as the legendary founder of the city sacrificing a bull, flanked by Antipater and his son Cassander – all richly dressed in their best tunic and cloak and wearing a diadem.

The central part of the mosaic depicts the key moment of the foundation of Apamea, where Seleucos holds the ktistes, an architectural measuring instrument symbolizing him as being the founder. Around a large table filled with silver and gold coins, we find once again Archippos and Antiochus I, together with Antipater and Cassander, and most importantly, Seleucos’ wife Apame, who contributed lavishly to the construction of the city. All these figures are dressed in the same sumptuous outfits as mentioned above.

I fail, however, to understand the presence of old Antipater in the company of his not-so-beloved son Cassander. We will remember that Antipater named Polyperchon as his successor and not Cassander, so why would he have dragged his son along to Pella/Apamea? And for what reason would they both be present in Pella/Apamea in the first place? The article published in Popular Archaeology seems to place the entire scene around 321-319 BC when Antipater was regent and Cassander was the commander of the Macedonian cavalry in Pella/Apamea. Still, I wonder what their contribution was to the foundation of Apamea. The Roman vision of history in the 4^th century AD, some seven centuries after the facts, appears to be shrouded in mystery.

The background of this mosaic is, however, as exciting as the figures in the foreground, to say the least. We see huge defense walls encircling the city. Inside those walls, there is a large roofed temple with a high pediment supported by five columns. This temple is flanked by several other smaller and roofed buildings. Also recognizable is the large hippodrome or Roman circus, not unlike the one that has been unearthed in nearby Gerasa (which was founded about the same time) with a central spina delimited by little turrets. The figures on the left bottom part of that section are less obvious. They seem to be men working on the fortification wall, and a large ox is pulling something heavy.

The very bottom of the mosaic depicts a more idyllic suburban scene with, on the right-hand side, a lovely Roman Bath. Two distinct entrances can be seen, one probably leading to the cloakroom used by two women with small children and the other opening up above a ramp from which children are sliding down into the pool below. Very important, however, is the large noria (waterwheel) depicted on the left of this section. Until now, it was generally accepted that the oldest norias dated from the 5^th century AD, but this picture confirms that they were used already one full century earlier! Norias are still standing along the Orontes River in Hama (see: Hama and its norias), where in the 5^th century, some one hundred of them were still functioning. This makes you wonder how many of them were aligned along that same river here in Apamea!

All in all, these mosaic scenes are very revealing while, at the same time, they rise many new questions. It is not surprising to find them among the most valuable objects wanted by INTERPOL. It would be great if these masterpieces could be recovered someday, enabling professionals to examine them more closely.

[Pictures of the mosaics from Popular Archaeology]