Travels with Herodotus Page 13

  One day, from atop their wall, the Babylonians notice a bloodied human figure dressed in rags dragging itself toward their city-fortress. The wretch keeps looking over his shoulder, checking to be sure he is not being pursued. The look-outs posted on the towers spotted him, ran down, opened one of the gates a crack, and asked him who he was and what he had come for. He answered that he was Zopyrus and that he was deserting to their side. At this, the gatekeepers took him to the Babylonian council, where he stood forth and complained to them about his sufferings. He blamed Darius for his self-inflicted injuries … He said, “…. He will certainly not get away with mutilating me like this.”

  The council believes these words and gives him an army, so that he can exact his vengeance. That is precisely what Zopyrus was waiting for. As prearranged, on the tenth day after Zopyrus’s pretend flight to Babylon, Darius sends one thousand of his weakest troops toward one of the besieged city’s gates. The Babylonians burst out from the gate and cut down the Persians to the last man. Seven days later, once again as Darius and Zopyrus have prearranged, the Persian king sends another contingent of inferior soldiers to Babylon’s gate, two thousand of them this time, and the Babylonians, under Zopyrus’s command, decimate these as well. Zopyrus’s fame among the Babylonians grows: they consider him a hero and a savior. Twenty days pass and in accordance with the plan Darius sends out another four thousand soldiers. The Babylonians annihilate them, too, and then gratefully appoint Zopyrus their commander in chief and defender of the city.

  Zopyrus is now in possession of the keys to all the gates. On the appointed day, Darius storms Babylon from all sides, and Zopyrus opens the gates. The city is conquered. Now that the Babylonians were in his power, Darius demolished the city wall and tore down all its gates … and he also had about three thousand of the most prominent men impaled on stakes.

  Once again Herodotus treats these catastrophic events in a most offhanded fashion. Let’s skip the demolishing of the walls—although this must have been a gargantuan undertaking. But impaling three thousand men on the stake? How was this done? Was one stake set, as the men of Babylon stood in a line, awaiting their turn? Did each look on as the man in front of him was impaled? Were they bound to prevent their escape? Or were they simply paralyzed with fear? Babylon was the center of world learning, a city of the world’s preeminent mathematicians and astronomers. Were they also impaled? If so, then for how many generations, centuries even, did this retribution stunt the growth of human knowledge?

  But at the same time Darius was thinking about the future of that metropolis and its inhabitants. He returned the city to the remaining Babylonians and let them live there. As was explained earlier, the Babylonians had strangled their wives to ensure that they had enough to eat; so in order to make sure that they would have enough women to have offspring, Darius ordered all the nearby peoples to send women to Babylon, and gave each a quota, which resulted in a grand total of fifty thousand women congregating there. Today’s Babylonians are descended from these women.

  As a reward, he gave Zopyrus command over Babylon for the rest of his life. But it is said that Darius often expressed the opinion that he would prefer to see Zopyrus without his injuries than gain twenty more Babylons.

  THE HARE

  Whose arrows are sharp

  and all their bows bent

  their horses’ hoofs shall be counted like flint and their wheels like a whirlwind.

  —ISAIAH 5:28

  The king of Persia concludes one conquest and immediately embarks on another: After the capture of Babylon, the next military expedition commanded by Darius in person was against the Scythians.

  Consider where Babylon lay in relation to Scythian territories. To get from one to the other, one had to traverse easily half of the known world in Herodotus’s time. The march must have lasted months. It took a month in those days for an army to cover five or six hundred kilometers, and here we are proposing a distance several times greater.

  This enterprise surely took its toll even on hardy Darius. Yes, he rode in a royal carriage, but one can easily imagine that in those days even such a conveyance must have lurched and rattled horribly. Springs and suspensions were unknown, as were tires or even rubber rings. Furthermore, over long stretches of the journey there would have been no roads at all.

  The ambition must therefore have been powerful enough to overrule all feelings of discomfort, fatigue, physical pain. In Darius’s case it was to expand his empire, and by doing so to increase his sway over the world. It is interesting to ponder what people in those times understood by “the world.” There were still no adequate maps, atlases, or globes. Ptolemy would not be born for another four centuries, Mercator not for another two millennia. It was impossible to gaze down on our planet taking a bird’s-eye view (could there even have been such a concept?). One acquired geographical knowledge by becoming aware of a neighbor not of one’s own people, and one passed on that knowledge orally:

  We are called the Giligamae. Our neighbors are the Asbystae. And you, Asbystae, whom do you share a border with? We Giligamae? We share one with the Auschisae. And the Auschisae with the Nasamones. And you, Nasamones? To the south, with the Garamantes, and to the west, with the Macae. And these Macae—whom do they adjoin? The Macae abut the Gindanes. And you? We share a border with the Lotus-eaters. And they? With the Ausees. And who lives beyond that, truly far, far away? The Ammonians. And beyond them? The Atlantes. And beyond the Atlantes? No one knows, and no one even attempts to imagine.

  So there was no glancing at a map (which didn’t exist, after all) to ascertain, as is taught in schools (which didn’t yet exist, either), that Russia neighbors China. To determine that fact, one had to question dozens of Siberian tribes (having first elected to travel in an easterly direction), until one finally encountered those that shared a border with the Chinese ones. But when Darius set out against the Scythians, he already possessed some knowledge about them and knew—more or less—where to look for them.

  The Great Ruler, occupied with the conquest of the world, goes about it somewhat like an avid but still methodical collector. He says to himself: I already have the Ionians, I have the Carians and the Lydians. Who’s missing? I lack the Trachinians, I lack the Getae, I lack the Scythians. And instantly the desire to possess those still beyond his grasp begins to burn in his heart. Whereas they, still free and independent, do not yet comprehend that by attracting the attention of the Great Ruler, they have caused a sentence to be passed upon themselves. Nor that the rest is merely a matter of time. Because rarely is such a sentence carried out with reckless and irresponsible impetuosity. Usually in these situations, the King of Kings resembles a skulking predator, who already has his prey in his ken and waits patiently for the propitious moment.

  In the realm of human affairs, admittedly, one also needs a pretext. It is important to give it the rank of a universal imperative or of a divine commandment. The range of choices is not great: either it is that we must defend ourselves, or that we have an obligation to help others, or that we are fulfilling heaven’s will. The optimal pretext would link all three of these motives. The attackers should appear in the glory of the anointed, in the role of those who have found favor in his chosen god’s eye.

  Darius’s pretext?

  Centuries ago, the Scythians invaded the territory of the Medes (another Iranian people, like the Persians) and ruled over them for twenty-eight years. Darius decides that he will avenge this now-forgotten episode. We have here another example of Herodotus’s law: the one who started something is always responsible, and because he did some evil, he must be punished, however many years after the fact. Darius launches a campaign against the Scythians.

  It is difficult to define the Scythians.

  They appeared seemingly out of nowhere, existed for a thousand years, and then vanished, leaving behind beautiful metal artifacts and the mounds in which they buried their dead. They organized themselves into groups, later even a confederation of tribes tha
t inhabited the expanses of eastern Europe and the Asiatic steppe. Their elite and vanguard were the Royal Scythians—mounted warriors, restless and rapacious, whose home base was the lands to the north of the Black Sea, between the Danube and the Volga.

  The Scythians were also a terrifying myth. Their name was synonymous with foreign and mysterious peoples, savage and cruel, who swoop down out of nowhere, attack, loot, slash, kidnap.

  It is difficult to see the Scythian lands, their homes and their herds, at close range, because all is obscured by a snow-white veil: Beyond the territory of their neighbours to the north there are such piles of feathers, according to the Scythians, that nothing can be seen and the land cannot be traversed either. They say that there are too many feathers filling the land and the air to enable sight to function. Which Herodotus comments upon this way: What about the feathers with which, according to the Scythians, the air is filled, and which stop them either seeing or travelling over more of the continent? My view is that it is constantly snowing north of the region in question (less in summer than in winter, of course), and that it is the harshness of the winter that makes the northern part of the continent uninhabitable. Now, snow does look like feathers, as anyone who has ever seen snow falling thickly from close up can confirm; so I think that the Scythians and their neighbours are describing the snow metaphorically as feathers.

  As Napoleon will do twenty-four centuries later, Darius now sets forth for these lands. He is counseled against it: Artabanus the son of Hystaspes asked him to cancel his expedition against the Scythians and cited the difficulty of getting at them as the reason for his request. But Darius does not listen, and after massive preparations departs at the head of a great army comprising all the tribes and peoples … he ruled. Herodotus cites what was then an astronomical figure: The total number of men— including cavalry contingents, but excluding the fleet—was 700,000, and then there were six hundred ships assembled there too.

  He orders a bridge built over the Bosporus. Sitting on this throne, he observes his army crossing it. The next bridge he constructs is over the Danube. Once his army has made its way across, he orders the bridge dismantled. But one of his commanders, a certain Coës, pleads with him not to do so:

  “My lord,” he said, “you are about to invade a land where agriculture is completely unknown and there are no settlements. I would suggest that you leave this bridge in place … Then, if we find the Scythians and do what we came for, we have a way out of the country afterwards; alternatively, if we fail to locate them, our return, at least, is ensured. I’m confident that the Scythians will never defeat us in battle, but I still worry in case something untoward happens to us as we roam here and there trying and failing to locate them.”

  This Coës will turn out to be a prophet.

  Darius agrees to leave the bridge intact and continues on his way.

  Meantime, the Scythians learn that a great army is advancing against them, and sending word to the kings of the neighboring nations for a meeting, they find a conference already in progress. Among those in attendance is the king of the Budinians—a large and populous tribe, with piercing grey eyes and bright red hair. There is the king of the Agathyrsians, among whom any woman is available to any man for sex, to ensure that the men are all brothers and that they are on amicable and good terms with one another … There is the king of the Taurians—if they capture their enemies, each of them cuts off a head and takes it back to his house, where he sticks it on the end of a long pole and sets it up to tower high above his house, usually over the chimney. It is their belief that these heads, hanging there, protect the whole household.

  The Scythian delegates address the various assembled kings and, informing them of the approaching Persian avalanche, make an appeal: “You absolutely must not stand idly by and watch us being destroyed. We should form a common plan and resist the invasion together.” And to persuade them to join forces and cooperate, the Scythians say that the Persians aim to conquer not only the Scythians, but all peoples. No sooner has [the Persian] entered this continent of ours than he sets about subjugating everyone in his path.

  As Herodotus tells it, the kings listened to the Scythian argument but were divided in their views. Some believed that they should indeed help the Scythians unconditionally and support them in their hour of need, but others preferred to remain on the sidelines for the time being, and believed that in point of fact the Persians, wishing only to revenge themselves upon the Scythians, would leave the others alone.

  In the face of this disunity, the Scythians, knowing their opponent to be very powerful, decided against straight fighting and open warfare, and in favour of retreat. The plan was that as they rode back in retreat they would fill in any wells and springs they passed, and destroy any vegetation they found growing in the ground. Furthermore, they would divide into two groups and, keeping themselves always at a distance of one day’s march from the Persians, always retreating, would disorient them with constant change of direction, all the while drawing them ever deeper into the interior of the country.

  What they decided upon they now set about implementing.

  But first the wagons in which all their women and children lived were sent off with orders to keep heading north, and all their livestock was sent with the wagons … North, where the cold and the snow would offer them protection from the people of the hot south, the Persians.

  When Darius’s army finally enters, the Scythians do not wage open warfare against it. Their tactic, their weapon, is deceit, evasion, ambush. Where are they? Cunning, fast, elusive as the hare, they appear suddenly on the steppe and vanish just as rapidly.

  Darius sees their cavalry over here, over there, spots their swift vanguard only for it to disappear moments later beyond the horizon. He receives reports of their being observed somewhere in the north. He steers his army there, but when it arrives, everyone realizes that they have entered into a wasteland. This seven-day stretch of empty land, completely uninhabited by human beings, lies to the north of the Budinian territory, etc., etc. Herodotus writes at length about this: The Scythians, in order to force their recalcitrant neighbors into battle, weave about in such a way as to propel Darius’s pursuing troops onto the lands of the tribes that had refused to commit themselves to battle. Now, finding themselves invaded by the Persians, they must fight against Darius alongside the Scythians.

  The king of the Persians feels increasingly helpless, and finally sends a messenger to the Scythian king demanding that his troops either stand and fight or else recognize his dominion over them. To which the king of the Scythians replies: They are not in flight but having neither cities nor farmland they have nothing to defend. Therefore he sees no reason to fight. But as for the Persians claiming to be their master, and demanding acknowledgment of same—the Scythian promises Darius will pay dearly.

  The mention of slavery made the Scythian kings furious. They loved liberty. They loved the steppe. They loved boundless space. Outraged by how Darius was treating them, his shaming insult, they now adjust their tactics. They decide not only to bob and weave, making zigzags and loops, but also to attack the Persians wherever they forage to feed themselves and their horses.

  Darius’s army finds itself in an increasingly difficult predicament. Here, on the great steppe, we can observe the collision of two military styles, two structures: the tight, rigid, monolithic organization of the regular army and the loose, mobile, ever-shifting configurations of small tactical cells. The latter is also an army, but an amorphous army of shadows, of phantoms, of thin air.

  “Show yourselves!” cries Darius into the emptiness. But the only answer is the silence of an alien, unattainable, immeasurable land, upon which his mighty army stands—useless, impotent, and feckless, for only an opponent could actualize it, and he does not wish to appear.

  The Scythians, seeing that Darius understands his predicament, send a herald with gifts for him—a bird, a mouse, a frog, and five arrows.

  Every human being has his ow
n particular web of associations for identifying and interpreting reality, which, most often instinctively and unthinkingly, he superimposes upon every set of circumstances. Frequently, however, those external circumstances do not conform with, or fit, the structure of our webs, and then we can misread the unfamiliar reality, and interpret its elements incorrectly. On such occasions, we move about in an unreal world, a landscape of dead ends and misleading signs.

  It is now thus for the Persians.

  Having received the gifts, the Persians talked the matter over among themselves. Darius’ opinion was that the Scythians were giving him earth and water and tokens of their surrender. His reasoning was as follows: a mouse is born in the ground and eats the same food as human beings, a frog lives in water, a bird closely resembles a horse, and they gave arrows as symbols of their own military might. This was the view that Darius expressed, but Gobryas … challenged this view of Darius’ and came up with an alternative. This is how he explained the message of the gifts: “Listen, men of Persia: if you don’t become birds and fly up into the sky, or mice and burrow into the ground, or frogs and jump into the lakes, you’ll never return home, because you’ll be shot down by these arrows.” So the Persians were trying to work out what the gifts meant.

  Meantime, the Scythians … drew up their infantry and cavalry and prepared to attack the Persians. They must have been an awesome sight. Excavations of Scythian burial mounds—and they interred their dead fully dressed, together with their horses, weapons, tools, and jewelry—indicate their clothing was covered in gold and copper, that their horses wore harnesses studded and clasped with sculpted metal, that they wielded swords and axes, and carried carefully chiseled and richly decorated bows and quivers.