Iran’s cultural heritage endangered

There should be a law to protect our cultural heritage from war. Well, yes, there is, but who is enforcing it?
 
After the barbaric destruction carried out for several years since 2014 by IS, the Islamic State, in countries like Syria, Iraq, and Libya, we are now seeing similar damage inflicted by our ‘civilized’ world on Iran. By the end of March 2026, 120 museums and heritage sites in Iran had been damaged, whether they were UNESCO World Heritage Sites or not.
 

I held my breath, fearing for sites like Susa, Hamadan, Persepolis, and Pasargadae, although there are no nearby towns or industrial plants to justify an attack. So far, I had not heard anything about bombing ancient sites in Iran until I came across this article, “Severed Spaces: Documenting Cultural Heritage at Risk in Iran,” published by The Ancient Near East Today (Neumann, K. 2026).

 

The article tells of destruction all over Iran, but I concentrated on the capital, Tehran, and on the world-renowned city of Isfahan. Yes, I am drifting away from Alexander, but after all, Iran remains part of his ambitious heritage!

 

The first picture after a panoramic view of Maidan Square in Isfahan is that of the shattered Hall of the Marble Throne in Golestan Palace, Tehran, whose unique mirror walls and ceilings I recognized immediately. 

Before

After [picture from ANEToday]

Mirrors with perfect reflection were invented by the Venetian artisans of Murano, who created clear glass backed with an amalgam of tin and mercury. They jealously kept their manufacturing secret until the 17^th century. This is exactly when the Golestan Palace was built, using tiny hand-cut mirror mosaics to create geometric and floral patterns. A most expensive work of art, now lying in shatters all over the floor.

Inside Ali Qapu Palace

The gem of Isfahan is Maidan Square (Naqsh-e Jahan Square), measuring 160 x 560 meters, that counts several unique buildings on the UNESCO World Heritage List that have been damaged by military strikes. 

They include the Royal Mosque, famous for its wonderful acoustics, and the Ali Qapu Palace, which occupies a commanding position in the middle of the long side of the square opposite the Lotfollah Mosque. All noteworthy buildings at the very heart of Isfahan.

Inside the Pavilion of 40 Columns

One block to the west lies the Chehel Sotou or Pavilion of 40 Columns, which has suffered damage from shockwaves as well.

 
Beyond the damage and destruction of buildings, there is the danger of looting once the walls of palaces, mosques, museums, and other public buildings have crumbled down. It is so easy to smuggle small(er) antiquities out of the city and out of the country over the roads of the black market. 

With the economic decline in a country at war, illegal trade is a simple way to survive. That is understandable, but it does not justify the means.

Weather conditions during Alexander’s march East

As I so often stated, the weather conditions are not important for historians. We find only a few examples in Alexander's campaigns, like the Monsoon in India and the flash flood in the Gedrosian Desert. Still, in reality, the weather did play a vital role in his campaign in the East.

Throughout their march from Greece to India, the Macedonians must have been plagued by recurrent earthquakes that disrupted their advance or their camp. Alexander could sacrifice to the gods, but he could not prevent or control these natural disasters. 

Speaking to one of the locals in Turkey, I remember him pointing out that he preferred to be “in the open” rather than inside any building when an earthquake occurred. Being outside, he would witness boulders rolling downhill and trees being shaken, but none of the rattlings would be as frightening as when sitting inside a house or shack.

It is easy to imagine how, in Alexander’s campsites, the army tents would collapse, banging up the occupants. Frightened horses and pack animals would try to run if they were not adequately secured by their attendants. When an earthquake hit the troops on the march, they could immediately react accordingly.

Another natural threat is the wind, which may not sound so dangerous, but the situation could be life-threatening when it creates a storm.

This idea occurred to me during my trip to Iran when I skirted the Zagros Mountains. In the winter of 330 BC, Alexander marched south using approximately the same route I was following a little later in the year, i.e., in April (see: The Zagros Mountains and the Persian Gates in Alexander’s footsteps).

I was plagued by a severe sandstorm that blew relentlessly during my three-day journey. Visibility was very low as the sands from the Mesopotamian Valley in modern Iraq were carried through the air. My clothes flapped around me as if they were to be torn away any moment, while the sand was stinging my face and hurting my body. The wind whistled through the lunch place, and the sand battered against the windows.

Inevitably, my mind drifted back to Alexander as he must have known days like this. Traveling in the comfort of my air-conditioned vehicle was hard enough. However, when I stepped outside of this protective shell, I had a taste of what he experienced – if not here, certainly in other locations.

Curtius seems to be the only one to write about Alexander’s expeditions into the interior of Persia some time in Spring 330 BC, where he was troubled by heavy rain and “almost intolerable weather.” He even was stopped by heavy snow that had frozen solid; not for long, though, as he immediately started making his way, breaking the ice with a mattock, an example that his men promptly followed (see: Alexander amidst the pomp and circumstance of Persepolis).

While we take bad weather as a mere inconvenience, we cannot underestimate its far-reaching impact. That became clear after reading The Road to Oxiana by Robert Byron. Byron traveled to Iran and Afghanistan in 1933, using whatever means of transportation available. The weather conditions commanded his advance to a degree I did not expect. The Macedonian army must have faced similar conditions that hampered their progress to the same extent.

Byron is hit by what he calls a burning dust-storm, a good one hundred miles east of Hamadan, ancient Ecbatana. Near Bisutun, he witnessed great spirals of dust, “dancing like demons over the desert,” stopping his car and choking the passengers. 

Wind, rain, and ice are Byron’s main challenges. He attempted to drive south from Tehran to Isfahan in early February but was stopped some ten miles out. The road turned into a sheet of ice that partly thawed and had frozen again. The scene must have been spectacular, for he writes, “At this moment the sun rose, a twinkle of fire lit the snowy plain, the white range of the Elbruz was suffused with blue and gold.” A beautiful picture, but a horrible travel condition.

A few days later, it rained for twenty-four hours. Byron was still stopped in Tehran by a “deluge of rain” in the last days of April. As he traveled further East via Damghan to Mashed, a route that approximately matches Alexander’s, “the rain fell like a bath-waste. For miles at a time the road was a river, the desert a flood, and every mountain a cataract.” The roads turned into fast-flowing rivers.

In Spring, Byron eventually reached Herat and continued due East to Kunduz. On his road to Balkh, where Alexander made camp and wintered in 328 BC (see: A view of the Karakum and Kyzylkum Deserts and Afrasiab, ancient Samarkand), Byron describes how “the rain came down in sheets. … every angle of the mountains was occupied by a cataract. … along that narrow ledge whence the red pinnacles rose into the clouds above, and whole ranges could be seen emerging from the clouds below…” A little further, he continues by saying that “the color of the landscape changed from lead to aluminum… The clumps of green trees, the fountain-shaped tufts of coarse cutting grass, stood out almost black against this mortal tint”.

Mazar-i-Sharif fared much better in the last days of May. He described how the clouds gathered on the mountains each afternoon, although summer should have set in six weeks before. People said they had never witnessed such conditions. The weather one hundred years ago was as unpredictable as today. The rain that fell before Byron’s arrival in the city was enough to close the road to Kabul for a whole month! An entire village had fallen down in a nearby gorge. Just picture Alexander having to cope with such extremes!

After Kunduz, Byron turned West, following the river of the same name to the plain of Bamyan, crossing the stream nine or ten times over wooden bridges. I doubt these bridges existed in Alexander’s days when the army had to find a way through the water. In June, Byron heard that a landslide had blocked the other side of the Shibar Pass. In fact, “heaps of liquid mud and pebbles concealing large rocks.” The travel conditions became increasingly drastic. “The crops below the road, already half destroyed by the rivers of mud, were now menaced by a further spate.”

Alexander probably took this same road in the fall of 327 BC when he left Bactria for India by the Shibar Pass (see: Alexander crosses the Hindu Kusha second time). Nobody mentions any landslides occurring, but they were undoubtedly recurrent because further down Byron’s road to Kabul, another dozen landslides prevented him from reaching the city. Was Alexander just lucky and under the protection of the gods, one wonders?

The crossings of the Hindu Kush, in turn, have been pictured very well by Steven Pressfield in his book The Afghan Campaign. He describes the pure horror and misery the army endured in their daily lives of survival (see: From Afghanistan into Bactria across the Hindu Kush). Arrian, of course, gives us the facts, but Pressfield, with his skills as a military writer, adds the human experience to the expedition.

Picking up Byron again, we read how on the road from Kabul to Ghazni – which Alexander traveled in the opposite direction to cross the Hindu Kush into Bactria – “two lorries were completely wrecked by the stream … the Kunduz ferry has overturned and sunk, drowning five women.”

Reading our history books, we are far from realizing that traveling or leading an army was a dangerous enterprise. Not only because of the enemies that had to be subdued but also because of the terrain and the weather conditions, which, as I said above, were seldom mentioned or recorded.

Exchange of antiquities between the Louvre and Iran’s National Museum

After Iran’s Presidential visit to France, an agreement was signed to renew cultural and scientific cooperation between the two countries. As a result, there will be exchanges of exhibitions, scientific visits, and training and, believe it or not, archaeological digs! That will be the day!

Details have not been disclosed, but it seems that, for a start, various pieces from the Louvre covering different eras in Iran will go on display at the National Museum in Tehran, and this could materialize as early as March. At a later date, certain artifacts will be sent to France in exchange. All expenses, including the insurance involved, will be paid by the Louvre – how kind!

In this early stage, 24 pieces from the Louvre have been selected from the heydays of Greece, Egypt, and Mesopotamia.

Alexander in hot pursuit of Darius

Talking or writing about Alexander is generally centered on his major battles, with a few rare exceptions for his generalship. What keeps fascinating me, however, are all the in-between stories that link his major achievements. At times, it feels like reading between the lines, while in fact, no moment of his life was ever dull or uneventful.

One such less-known but extremely exciting period in Alexander’s life is his chase after Darius. Fleeing from the Battle of Gaugamela, the Persian King had elected residence at Ecbatana, the Achaemenid summer capital. When Alexander was about three days' march from that city, he learned that Darius had left five days before heading for Bactria, taking with him the available treasure of 7,000 talents and a force of 6,000 infantry and 3,000 cavalry. Before starting his merciless pursuit, Alexander had to settle a few pressing matters, like dismissing the Greek allied contingent and the Thessalian cavalry that had finished playing its role in the League War. He also instructed Parmenion to transfer the treasuries from Persepolis and Pasargadae to Ecbatana.

Once that was taken care of, Alexander elected his Companions and the mercenary Cavalry, as well as the advanced scouts, the Macedonian heavy infantry, the archers, and the Agrianes to accompany him on this manhunt. Yet his advance was so rapid that many of them dropped out as they were unable to keep up the high pace; many horses were also worked to death, which makes me wonder about the number of horses he took as spares. But everything and everybody had to yield to Alexander’s determination, and he reached Rhagae in eleven days, a distance of some 390 km if he took the shortest route via Qazvin.

On the way, Alexander met many of Darius’ soldiers who had deserted and either returned to their homes or surrendered to him. Darius had passed Rhagae a while ago, and since Alexander could not catch up with him at this stage, he gave his troops a five-day rest. I don’t know much about horses, but I am aware that they cannot gallop for an entire day, and also that they need a rest after about four days of continuous riding. The break evidently was not a luxury stop but a mere requirement if he wanted to continue.

From Rhagae (modern Rey), it would have taken Alexander a full day to reach the (South) Caspian Gates, according to Arrian, but Donald Engels (see: Alexander the Great and the Logistics of the Macedonian Army) says that he stopped short of the gates proper. He is certain that Alexander chose for Airan Kief (modern Eyvanekey), some 13 km before the gates, because the nearby village of Aradan provided the only source of fresh water for his men and horses. His light infantry must have marched all night long till noon the next day, taking advantage of the long daylight hours of summer. At Aradan, Alexander met two important Persian leaders who had deserted their king. They reported that Darius had been seized and arrested by his own commander of cavalry, Nabarzanes, supported by Bessus, satrap of Bactria, and Barsaentes, satrap of Arachosia and Drangiana. The news rekindled Alexander’s resolution and he was in the saddle again, this time only escorted by his Companions, the advanced scouts, and a picked body of his toughest infantry. The remaining part of the army was put under Craterus’ command and was to follow on at their own pace. Alexander traveled extremely light; his men only carried their weapons and rations for two days.

They galloped all through the night till noon the next day, when they took a brief rest. Soon, they all mounted again for a second all-night march, and at first daylight, they reached the camp mentioned by one of the defectors Alexander had met a few days earlier. The place, probably southwest of Samnan, was deserted; the enemy had moved on. The locals confirmed the defector’s story. They also mentioned that Darius had been put in a covered wagon and that Bessus, since he was related to Darius, had proclaimed himself to be the new king.

Without any further delay, Alexander threw himself again into this hot pursuit. His men and their horses were very much exhausted by the demanding marches, but Alexander drove them on nonetheless. I wonder how many times he and his men had to change horses to keep up this high pace. After yet another night and morning march, they reached a village where Darius and his captors had stayed the previous day. His advanced intelligence informed Alexander that there was a shortcut, which, unlike the main road from Samnan to Ahuvan, avoided the mountain pass; it ran, however, through uninhabited territory and was totally lacking water. This was not going to stop Alexander, of course, and he ordered the locals to guide him through the stretch of desert.

Being aware that his pace was beyond that of his infantry, Alexander decided to dismount some 500 cavalrymen and replace them with the toughest and fittest officers of his infantry and other units. They were to keep their own arms and equipment. The remainder of his troops were to follow the road Bessus and his followers had taken.

Alexander set off at dusk, riding through the desert at raging speed, covering some 68 km overnight, and finally caught up with the Persians near Damghan at dawn. Most were struggling along unarmed and fled as soon as they saw that Alexander in person was on their tail; a few attempted to fight but soon gave up since any resistance was useless. Bessus and his friends were not inclined to abandon Darius so quickly, but when Alexander was nearly on top of them, Nabarzanes and Barsaentes struck him down without any reverence and made their escape. Darius died shortly afterward.

This is the pursuit based mainly on Arrian, as Curtius spent more ink describing the corruption and conniving at Darius’ court. Curtius also provides more details about the murder of Darius and how the wagon with his body was found off the main road. A Macedonian, driven by thirst, stopped at the nearby river where he found the wagon with the wounded horses still harnessed. Wondering why the animals had been stabbed, he came closer and heard the groans of a dying man, who turned out to be the King of Persia. It remains uncertain whether Alexander found him still alive or not. In any case, he is said to have shed many tears, taking off his own cloak to cover the body of Darius and ordering it to be taken to Persepolis for a proper burial. 

The Macedonians had covered almost 350 km in six days over difficult desert terrain, meaning that they rode at an average speed of 53 km a day in hot mid-summer temperatures through a country that was largely desert. Much of the riding was done at night, and the horses could easily trip over loose rocks and step into unavoidable pits, for how much visibility was there, if any? How alert were the riders still after a night and a morning on their unsaddled horses? And look at that last 68-km run to Damghan, which was covered between dusk and dawn! I wonder whether such achievements were ever repeated in history.

It is quite striking to discover that when following Alexander’s pursuit on the map of Iran, his route coincides entirely with the modern road linking Tehran to Damghan, which runs in the shadow of the Elbruz Mountains along the very edge of the Great Salt Desert or Dasht-i-Kavir. Yet this is also the layout of the ancient Persian Military road and would explain, at least in part, why Alexander was able to move at such a high speed. Unfortunately, the caravanserai that dotted this route every 40 km or so cannot have been of great help for him and his men, as I doubt they would have the hundreds of spare horses that were needed. This route was later known as part of the Silk Road.

Alexander definitely wrote history here, nothing short of any of his celebrated battles or other exploits. This is, however, one of the details often overlooked by historians or by the general Alexander public.

Alexander’s Prison?

Walking through the narrow streets of Yazd (Iran), I was surprised to find a signpost pointing towards Alexander’s Prison. What does it mean? Alexander never was in Yazd as far as I know, but he may, of course, have sent one of his generals here with explicit orders; this would make the connection with Alexander plausible – but still.

The formal explanation I received from the local guide is that during the reign of Alexander, a number of Persian nobles resisting his domination started a revolt in Rhagae, near modern Tehran. Alexander had them arrested, and on his way to Yazd, he imprisoned them in this fortress with a deep well in its courtyard.

Who knows what really happened, but it is a strange story since Alexander marched from Persepolis past Isfahan to Ecbatana, and from there via Qazvin to Raghae. Yazd is, however, located some 300 km east of his route Persepolis-Isfahan, which contradicts the local story that he was on his way from Raghae (Tehran) to Yazd in the south. In any case, the so-called Prison of Alexander in Yazd is still standing and has been converted into a school.

The Lonely Planet relates a story similar to that of my guide but mentions that it might have emerged from a poem by Hafez, who, together with Saadi, is one of the greatest poets Iran has ever known. Today, Hafez is still the most popular poet in Iran, and everyone can sing or recite one of his poems.

Whatever truth is hidden behind this tale, I never heard of this prison in Yazd or of its connection with Alexander, but then the same story or fable is told about Balkh in Afghanistan, whose origin would also be a prison established by Alexander. One thing is certain: the King of Asia is still very much alive in those parts of the world. There are many other examples like the one about the Alexander Fort at Nurata, the ancient city of Nur, which he founded in 327 BC. Uzbek sources relate that Alexander instructed one of his generals, a certain Farhangi-Sarhang, to build a fort that even he could not take, and he was successful at that! (see: Sogdian Rocks and Alexander’s Fort near Nurata). Another of those legends is about the Alexander River (Iskander Darya) that flows out of an Alexander Lake (Iskander Kül), also in Uzbekistan. It is believed that he built a golden dam to create the lake and that gold particles can still be panned further downstream. Another story tells how Alexander and his trusted horse Bucephalus rise from this lake every full moon to cross the sky (see: March to Maracanda).

These are all fascinating anecdotes that are being told over and over, keeping the name and the memory of Alexander the Great alive.

The Zagros Mountains and the Persian Gates in Alexander’s footsteps

Upon arrival in Tehran, my first thought was: can I see the Elburz Mountains from here? Tehran is known to be rather polluted, hence my question. But I was very lucky because on this early spring morning, the wind had swept the skies clean, and from a vantage point near the Azadi Tower or Freedom Tower, I was widely rewarded with a magnificent panorama of the snow-capped Elburz Mountains. This is what Alexander must have seen and I could almost feel his yearning to cross this barrier to discovering the lands on the other side.

A while ago, I read the book, The Road to Oxiana, in which Robert Byron describes how refreshing that part of the country was after having traveled for weeks in a row through dust and desert. He compares it to Austria till the rolling hills turn into the marshy reed fields around the Caspian Sea. I was itching to see all this for myself, but my itinerary was to take me south.

I picked up Alexander’s route in Susa, which he reached in 331 BC on his way from Babylon to Persepolis, a distance of some 800 km. Somewhere south of Susa, the Macedonian army crossed the Pasitigris River, known today as the Karun River, which was and still is navigable all the way down to its confluence with the Tigris River, which in turn empties into the Persian Gulf. I feel quite excited when spending the night in the city of Ahwaz, I can see this river from my room. By magic and in spite of all the oil plants and other polluting industries on its banks, this river in my imagination returns to its “natural” setting from antiquity.

We all know that Alexander was unstoppable, but being here makes me realize the huge distances he had to cover with his entire army and the inevitable baggage train - an exploit by itself. Traveling here in the comfort of an air-conditioned bus for three long days is hard enough, but it is only when I get out of this protective shell that I can taste a little of what he had experienced. On this journey, we were hit by a heavy sandstorm for a full day. Visibility was very low; the sands from the Mesopotamian Valley in modern Iran were carried through the air and hit my face and body. My clothes flapped around me as if they were to be torn away any moment; the wind whistled through the lunch place, and the sand battered the windows. Alexander must have known days like this, but weather conditions are not a topic for a history book.

Like Alexander, I was skirting the Zagros Mountains as the modern road generally follows his route, and I just can’t get enough of it! These mountains are very rugged and barren, hostile if compared to the Taurus Mountains, for instance. When the road bends away, it is not uncommon to see the snow on the highest peaks; driving through these foothills, I see lots of loose rocks ready to be rolled down on the enemy in the canyons below, as mentioned by our writers from antiquity. I was truly moving through history!

When still preparing for this trip, I got rather confused between Arrian’s description of Alexander’s crossing the Zagros at the Persian Gates as opposed to what is told by Diodorus and Curtius, making me wonder if there were three separate skirmishes in these canyons. Since these stories are vague, I wondered how I could figure this out. Apparently, I was not the first to be taken by surprise here, and I am grateful to A.B. Bosworth (see:”Conquest and Empire. The Reign of Alexander the Great”) for having tackled the problem. He is certain there were three separate encounters with the Persians in the Zagros Mountains.

Once Alexander had crossed the Pasitigris, he entered the territory of the Uxians. Their lower fertile lands were occupied by agriculturalists and were governed by a satrap, a relative of Darius, to keep matters in the family. The mountainlands, mainly grazing fields for cattle, did not fall under Persian rule, except that the Great King would pay a passage fee when he crossed this territory. Alexander first encountered the lowlands’ satrap blocking the highway. He attacked these forces head-on while a detachment of his army circumvented the enemy using a side path, leading them to a higher position above the enemy. The satrap withdrew to a fortress from where he negotiated terms involving Queen Mother Sisygambis to mediate – successfully so.

Alexander next encountered the mountain people who demanded money for his passage through their lands. He invited them to meet him at the canyon entrance, but unknown to his enemy, he force-marched his troops to sack and loot the nearest Uxian villages. At the same time, Alexander himself occupied the canyon entrance before the Uxians could man it; Craterus with his men held the heights above the pass. The Uxians were trapped on all sides, and the majority of them were killed; the survivors were condemned to pay a heavy annual tribute of livestock to Alexander.

This tactic against the mountain Uxians is indeed the very same as applied by Alexander when forcing the Persian Gates further south. I cannot take my eyes off the road and the landscape, fully aware that Alexander and his troops must have marched around here.

Parmenion, with the heavier units and the baggage train, took the long paved road around the mountains and must have followed the natural terrain of the modern road to reach Persepolis. Alexander, in a hurry to reach the capital before the treasury was looted by the satrap of the province of Persia, took a shortcut through these mountains, a passage known as the Persian Gates. At some point, and certainly not exactly where Alexander turned off the highway, my road enters the Zagros Mountains through deep cuts between the narrow, towering walls. When the walls recede, the hillside is strewn with heavy, loose rocks at times only held in place by precarious bushes that could easily be cut or uprooted. In my mind, I am in the thick of the fight!

But let’s go back to our history books that give a far more detailed description of the king’s strategy at the Persian Gates than during his fights with the Uxians, if only because the stakes were much, much higher in the case of Persepolis?

The ruling satrap Alexander had to face was Ariobarzanes, who had already built a defense wall across the pass and manned it accordingly. Alexander tried to assault the pass but had to give up because the place was too well defended, and he lost too many of his men. From his prisoners-of-war, he learned of another way round – a mere track, rough and narrow, but that’s all Alexander needed. Craterus remained behind with instructions to attack after receiving the trumpet signal from Alexander when he was safely around. For the king and his troops, this must have been quite an exploit, scrambling over this terrain at night (seeing it by daylight is bad enough!). At a certain point, he directed Philotas over a different road towards the Persian defenses to lead the second assault. Ptolemy was left to the north of the passage to deal with stragglers trying to evade Alexander. The master plan worked to perfection. Alexander led the front attack, destroying two advance fortifications and forcing the Persians to retreat behind the third one on the mountainside. He then directed his attention towards the Persian camp proper while trumpeting Craterus into action from the other side. The Persians were caught between the two armies and tried to flee to the south, but this is where Philotas was waiting for them. Ptolemy swept up the remnants of the Persians, although Ariobarzanes managed to escape with a small party seeking refuge at Persepolis. The city’s garrison refused to let him enter and eventually, he was killed by the advancing Macedonians.

To me, all these canyons look alike, and for many years, scholars discussed the possible location of these Persian Gates without much success. Until Jona Lendering was finally able in 2004 to confirm that Alexander had actually fought through the Tang-e Meyran Pass, not too far from Yasuj, based on earlier reconnoitering carried out by Henri Speck.

Most travelers will find this long drive along the Zagros Mountains rather boring and very dusty, but for me, it brought Alexander’s genial attack to life when he outwitted and annihilated the Persian forces who were supposed to defend Persepolis.

[Click here to watch all pictures of the Zagros Mountains]

Alexander amidst the pomp and circumstance of Persepolis.

From our history books, we often get the impression that Alexander rushed to Persepolis, set the place ablaze, and left right away for his next destination. Nothing is less accurate. Alexander arrived at Persepolis about the first week of February 330 BC, and Tiridates, its commander, must have received him with the appropriate protocol and deference. Alexander spent about four months in Persepolis, which he left by late May or early June 330 BC, and it was evident he did not sit there idly.

Curtius seems to be the only one to write about Alexander's expeditions into the interior of Persia at some time in April, where he was troubled by heavy rain and "almost intolerable weather" (hard to imagine since I was troubled by a severe heat wave that same time of the year). He was even stopped by heavy snow that had frozen solid; not for long, though, as he immediately started making his way, breaking the ice with a mattock, an example that was promptly followed by his men. The frightened inhabitants he encountered in these pathless forests cannot have offered much booty, which the soldiers had to find in the villages further down across the valley floor. Then Alexander reached the Mardi, a warlike people who lived off their flocks in the mountains. Curtius mentions that on the thirteenth day after setting out from Persepolis, the king returned to share his trophies with his friends and those who had merited them.

In Persepolis, Alexander held games in honor of his victories and performed lavish sacrifices to the appropriate gods. Still, he must also have received couriers from home and delegations from far and abroad, although I find no such record in history. The appropriate place to welcome his guests was evidently the Apadana, the Audience Palace, the most imposing building of Persepolis, and one that defies our most daring imagination. With its approximately 100x100m, it was by far the largest palace on the plateau and widely surpassed and outshone all others. It could hold as many as 10,000 guests!

It was an extremely rich building, but somewhat tricky to figure out today. The Apadana lies three meters above the rest of the plateau, hence the two stately staircases, one on the eastern side and one on the northern side. They are both identical, as far as the north side is generally a mirror of the east side, meaning that the figures' profiles on the reliefs are shown in reverse.

The main hall of the Apadana is a central square of 60x60m and has six rows of six columns, totaling 36 splendidly fluted columns resting on a square base and crowned with the ever-present floral decorations just underneath the double-headed bulls that supported the ceiling. At the main hall's western, northern, and eastern sides, huge double-leaved doors in the 5.32 meters-thick wall led into a rectangular portico with twelve columns set in two rows of six. Together with the columns of the main hall, the Apadana totaled 72 columns, thirteen of which are still standing 19 meters high. The ceiling was made of wood, probably cedar from Lebanon, although cypress may have also been used. On the southern side of the main hall lay several small chambers used for storage or connecting to the adjacent Palace of Darius.

The wall of the main hall was made of individual mud bricks of standard size of 33x33x13cm joined together with a lime-and-clay mortar and covered with a greenish stucco made of gypsum and clay as used all over Persepolis. The guests and delegates would enter through the north-eastern door, ushered by a Persian or Median guard posted at the Gate of Nations, from where they had an unobstructed view of the Apadana; the gift-bearers, however, would have entered separately through the north-western door.

Alexander and the Persian Kings before him would enter the Audience Hall through a small corridor in the most southerly corner linked to the Palace of Darius. Obviously, in this ostentatious setting, he could not appear in his Macedonian clothes. Anyone with some sense of etiquette could see that it demanded a statelier outfit, but his victorious troops were convinced that only their laws and customs applied. Not so for Alexander, who showed respect for the newly conquered land and lords. We ignore, however, what the Persians thought of Alexander's "adjusted" Persian dress. It would be interesting to travel back in time.

A sturdy tower had been erected at each corner of the Apadana, a square construction with a three-meter-thick outer wall, while the inner walls measured 2.5 meters. The towers were four stories high, i.e., 22 meters. It was here that the gold and silver foundation inscriptions written in Babylonian, Old Persian, and Elamite were buried in an adequate box by Darius the Great. Two of these boxes have been retrieved intact (two others were looted in antiquity). One set is now safely exhibited at the National Museum of Tehran, and the other pair was eventually transferred to the Azadi Museum in Tehran. Based on Darius' details about the extent of his empire, the construction of the Apadana can be dated to about 515 BC.  

Today's visitor is immediately drawn to the lavishly decorated stairways leading into the inner Apadana. The eastern stairway is being sheltered under a protective roof to preserve its unique original reliefs. This is a true gem where I spent most of my time figuring out the many scenes, and it is definitely worth it! As I said, the northern stairway is almost identical, but not in such good condition as this one.

To begin with, the main wall of this eastern stairway is 81 meters long and could be divided into three equal parts of 27 meters each. Access to the Audience Hall is possible over the central double-reversed staircase (at the center of the wall) or over the staircases at either end of the wall on the right and left sides. The projecting central outer staircase stands in front of the long back wall, although attached to it by its wide steps. It shows symmetrical reliefs of four soldiers (apple-bearers), alternatively, two Medes with round hats and two Persians, facing each other across a blank space between them. Either side is flanked by the ever-recurring image of a lion-bull fight. The entire group is crowned by a winged circle in the very middle of the panel (Ahuramazda), flanked on either side by a seated sphinx with a human head and winged lion's body raising his right hand in a gesture of adoration. A row of nine palm trees fills the remaining space towards the end.

Originally, instead of the four apple bearers and the open space, this place was occupied by a relief showing an audience scene of King Darius I with his heir Xerxes standing behind him (although recent research indicates that this is King Xerxes with the later King Darius II behind him). This relief was moved to the Treasury, possibly by Xerxes when he became king, and he didn't like his place as crown-prince behind his father's throne – a theory that is not applicable should the king on the throne indeed be Xerxes, in which case another historical background applies. Opposite the enthroned king stands an official of the empire doing obeisance to his king by throwing him a kiss with his hand. Right in front of him stand two incense burners. This relief, meanwhile, has been moved to the National Museum of Tehran.

My attention then goes to the reliefs on both sides of the central panel. The northern wing (to the right when facing the stairways) is also 27 meters long and shows three rows of soldiers, i.e., three files of guards standing at attention with the butt of their spears resting on one foot. This butt is shaped like an apple or a pomegranate, which gave the guards the name "apple-bearers." They closely resemble the guards from the glazed-brick walls in Susa (now at the Louvre Museum), clad in the same Persian dress. The top right row ends with royal grooms leading horses (probably the famous Nicean horses) and two chariots. Just underneath, we find two rows of royal dignitaries, alternatively a Mede representing the military officer and a Persian identified as the court official. The 32 pairs of officials stand for the 32 nations, as mentioned in an inscription found at Persepolis. On each step leading up to the Audience Hall proper, a single soldier stands at attention, probably duplicating the live soldiers lining up on great occasions.

The southern wing (to the left when facing the Apadana's stairways) covers the last 1/3 of the entire length, another 27 meters. This is where we find delegations from all nations, each being introduced by an usher in Persian or Median costume. Going into details is a great pastime, but it would take far too long to explain, although it is a terribly exciting occupation. I will, however, limit myself to merely listing the different nations. 

They are:

Medes (from Azerbaijan and Kurdistan), 





Susians (from Khuzistan),

Armenians (from Armenia and eastern Turkey), 

Arians (from Herat in Afghanistan),

Babylonians (from around Babylonia),

Elamites (from around Susa)

Lydians (from modern western Anatolia), 

Arachosians (from central Afghanistan),

Assyrians (from northern Iraq and Syria),

Cappadocians (from eastern Armenia and north-eastern Turkey), 

Egyptians,

Scythians (from Iran, northeast of the Caspian Sea), 

Ionians (modern western Anatolia),

Bactrians (from the Balkh region in Afghanistan),

Gandarans (from the Kabul area in Afghanistan), 

Parthians (from modern Khorasan), 

Assagartians (or Sagartians from southeast Media), Saka Haumavarga (Scythians living east of the Jaxartes),

Indians (from the Northwest Frontier), 

European Scythians (from modern Macedonia and Ukraine), 

Arabs (from Jordan and Palestine), 

Zarangians (ancient people of Seistan),

Libyans, 

and Ethiopians. 

In fact, these nations cover the entire map of the Achaemenid Empire, similar to the territories that Alexander ultimately conquered. Here too, a soldier is standing at attention on each step leading to the entrance of the Audience Hall.

We should remember that all these walls were painted in brilliant colors. Above this colorful spectacle rose the 19-meter columns, also colored as mentioned above, with their double-headed bulls staring down at the visitor. Quite particular is the fact that the columns of the western portico (the one opposite this grand entrance) had capitals of double-headed lions. Once inside the main hall of the Apadana, the walls were tiled with colorful bricks with pictures of lions, bulls, and flowers.

One must admit that Greece had nothing comparable to offer in spite of the splendor and the grandeur of the Acropolis in Athens. Persepolis is of a totally different proportion and majesty, making me wonder what impression it must have made on Alexander and his troops. Unfortunately, the surviving ruins do no justice to this once enormous wealth.

The last building that deserves attention is the Tripylon, so named because of its three entrances, allowing access to the Apadana on the north side, the Hall of the One Hundred Columns and the Harem on the east, and the Palace of Xerxes on the south side. Although it was added after the completion of the Apadana and the Hall of the One Hundred Columns, its function is unclear. The Tripylon occupies the center of the Persepolis plateau and may have served as a Council Hall or a monumental corridor linking the abovementioned buildings. It occurs to me that it may have functioned as a separation between the huge official halls and the most private palaces of Xerxes, Darius, and the Harem.

The reliefs on the jambs of the doorways are generally parallel images from other buildings. That is also the case for the reliefs enhancing the different stairways, including the delegates from 28 subject nations. Of particular interest is the small staircase that has been moved to the Museum of Tehran, with on the outer side reliefs of Persian lancers and archers; on the inner side, each step depicts a member of the Persian and Median clergy sharing the step as they carry food and animals for religious rites. Unique is also the capitals of the four columns of the Tripylon's main hall, which, unlike the usual double-bull, lion, or griffin, are double men's heads with a bull's body. This mythological figure originates in Babylonia and Assyria and is called Iamassu. It usually served to ward off evil and was placed at a gate entrance, hence the theory that this Tripylon might have served as an entrance (to what, I wonder, though). One such Iamassu is on display at the Tehran Museum.

The Achaemenid Empire was founded by Cyrus the Great, King of Kings of Persia, King of Anshan, King of Media, King of Babylon, King of Sumer and Akkad, King of the Four Corners of the World. The Achaemenids ruled for approximately 500 years, and they must have felt their power was eternal by the grace of Ahuramazda. Yet, their reign ended quite dramatically with the arrival of Alexander, King of Macedonia, who managed to defeat the Great King Darius III at the battle of Gaugamela three years after he had left his homeland. However, Darius was still alive, fleeing ever further east with Alexander at his tail. Was Persepolis going to pay the price?

Food for thought in "Fire over Persepolis."
[Click here to read about Alexander's arrival at Persepolis. the previous post]