The Warlike and the Wary: the Council of Xerxes in Hdt. VII 8-11 and Some Near Eastern Tales *

«EIKASMOS » XVIII (2007)

The Warlike and the Wary: The council of Xerxes in Hdt. VII 8-11 and some Near Eastern tales *

1. Xerxes ’ council and the contrasting pair of counsellors

The coupling of a king or ruler with a wise counsellor is a characteristic and recurring motif in Herodotus ’ work, which has been discussed by several scholars1. It is a hallmark of Herodotean historical thought, a distinctive pattern by which Herodotus shapes and understands history 2. Scholars have proposed various sources of inspiration, which may have contributed to the formation of that favourite Herodotean figure, the wise counsellor. On one hand, the historian may have been influenced by Greek literary models like epic and tragedy, in which counselling figures ( e.g. Nestor and Polydamas in Homer, Teiresias in tragedy) often played important roles 3. On the other hand, the experience from actual life should not be underestimated: advisers doubtless existed and played a part in the court or the entourage of many historical rulers 4. In this essay, I shall discuss one particular episode involving a king and his counsellors, and this will suggest another possible provenance of the motif: the long and rich narrative traditions of the Near East, in which the coupling of king and counsellor (or counsellors) was a standard and widespread narrative pattern, appearing from very old times and occurring in a multitude of tales 5. Those

* I thank the editors of «Eikasm ós» for a series of stimulating suggestions, as well as Myrto Garani, Maria Kanellou, Katerina Karvouni and Agis Marinis, for providing me with many useful publications. 1 See Lattimore 1939, 24-35; Bischoff 1965, 302-319; H.R. Immerwahr, Form and Thought in Herodotus , Cleveland 1966, 73-75; Aly 1969, 87, 192, 243, 279s.; Waters 1985, 138s.; Fehling 1989, 203-209. 2 Cf. the remarks of Lattimore 1939, 34s. and Bischoff 1965, 315. 3 This is suggested e.g. by Chiasson 1979, 115, 124-129; Fehling 1989, 203s.; Sa ïd 2002, 122s. Lattimore 1939, 24, 35 also mentions the possibility of tragic influence, but with reservations. 4 See Bischoff 1965, 315; Chiasson 1979, 117; Waters 1985, 139. 5 For this pattern in ancient Near Eastern narratives see my essay O Solomwvn agwnisthv" : Oi agwvne" grivfwn tou basiliav Solomwvnta sthn Palaiav Diaqhvkh kai sthn ellhnistikhv istoriografiva , «Ellhnikav» LIV (2004) 225s., where I give some examples. I shall discuss the pattern more fully in an appendix of my study in preparation Akivcaro". H Dihvghsh tou Acikavr sthn arcaiva Ellavda (Athens, forthcoming). As remarked by S. Niditch and R. Doran, The success story of the wise courtier: a formal approach , «JBL » XCVI (1977) 186, the king sur- rounded by an entourage of advisers is «a constant in the near eastern view of what court is 220 KONSTANTAKOS traditions may have been the ultimate source of inspiration for some Herodotean stories about counsellors, especially those focusing on oriental kings and poten- tates. Behind at least a few of the latter we may detect more or less distant Near Eastern models – tales of the East which must have reached Herodotus in some way and provided him with a nucleus for his own enthralling narratives 6. The episode to be examined here is the council of Xerxes and his Persian dignitaries before the beginning of the Greek war (Hdt. VII 8-11). This has often been regarded as a free composition or invention of Herodotus himself, and it contains indeed many characteristically Herodotean elements in its present form; but I hope to show that a Near Eastern narrative core is also discernible. Here is a synopsis. When Xerxes decides to make an expedition against Athens, he summons the noblest Persians, in order to ask for their opinion and declare his intentions before them (VII 8,1). In his initial speech, he points out that all the previous Persian kings have expanded the state by wars of conquest and that he himself ought not to fall short of their standards; he then announces his plan to throw a bridge over the Hellespont and invade Greece, so as to punish the Athenians for all they have done to the Persians and to his father Dareios. He enumerates the Athe- nians ’ offences (the arson of Sardeis, the battle of Marathon) and stresses that the Persians will acquire great glory if they add Greece to their conquests, since all the living nations will then belong to the Persian empire, which will extend as far as the heaven of Zeus. So, he exhorts the Persian lords to do their best in order to prepare their troops. Finally, he lays the matter for discussion and asks the noblemen to express their views (VII 8, a-d). The next to speak is Mardonios, Xerxes ’ brother-in-law: he praises the king, calling him the best of all Persians, and incites him to go on with the expedition and take due revenge from the Greeks. He argues that the Persian victory is assured: the Greeks have neither a large army nor great power; in addition, they fight in a most thoughtless manner, and so they will not be able to resist Xerxes ’ huge army (VII 9). After that, the rest of the Persian lords remain silent and dare not express an opposing view (VII 10,1). But Artabanos, Xerxes ’ uncle, ventures to speak. He argues against the expedition in Greece, demonstrating in detail how dangerous it is. He points out that the Greeks are excellent warriors, both by land and sea, much superior to the Scythians who have defeated Dareios; the Athenian victory at Marathon provides a token of their courage. If the Greeks overcome the Persians at sea and then sail to the Hellespont and destroy the bridge there, the Persian army will be trapped in Europe and annihilated – a disaster that nearly befell Dareios ’ forces in like » (cf. ibid. 184 and S. Niditch, A Prelude to Biblical Folklore. Underdogs and Tricksters , Urbana-Chicago 2000, 112s.). 6 The possibility of Near Eastern models is also supported by Bauer 1882, 513; Reinhardt 1966, 168-170; Aly 1969, 279s.; F.R. Adrados, History of the Graeco-Latin Fable , I, transl. L.A. Ray, Leiden-Boston-K öln 1999, 336-338; cf. Bischoff 1965, 315. The Warlike and the Wary 221 the Scythian expedition. For these reasons, Artabanos advises Xerxes to think the matter over again, without haste, and warns him of the envy of God against eve- rything that is great and outstanding. Finally, he reproves Mardonios for his reckless ideas, with which he is trying to carry the king away (VII 10). Xerxes, however, is angered by Artabanos ’ words: he accuses him of cowardice and declares that he will carry out the expedition and punish the Athenians (VII 11). In this episode, the king stands between two opposed, rival counsellors, who offer him conflicting advice 7. It is also worth noting the respective ages of the two counsellors, because these too are in contrast. Mardonios, the son of the Persian nobleman Gobryas, is young. Referring to his assignment in Ionia in 492 BC, Herodotus notes that Mardonios was young at that time (VI 43,1 hJlikivhn te nevo" ejwvn ); so, in the council of VII 8-11, which is supposed to take place eight years later, in 484 8, Mardonios can be imagined as still a relatively young man. We must

7 A similar pattern with contrasted counsellors underlies also some other Herodotean scenes; but there it is much less developed and lacks many of the characteristic details found in Xerxes ’ council. In VIII 67-69, when the Persians have arrived at Athens, Xerxes asks the leaders of the various nations of his army if he must fight a naval battle against the Greeks. All of them say that the battle must take place; only Artemisia advises the king not to fight it, arguing that it is risky and unnecessary. Xerxes, however, follows the view of the majority. In this episode, Artemisia delivers a long speech, expounding her view and arguments. But the counsellors of the opposite side are not shown setting out their opinion at length, not even talking in direct speech: Herodotus notes their standpoint only very briefly, with a single laconic phrase (VIII 68,1 oiJ me;n a[lloi kata; twjuto; gnwvmhn ejxefevronto, keleuvonte" naumacivhn poievesqai ). Similarly, in V 36 Aristagoras, the tyrant of Miletos, holds a council, in order to propose to his comrades his plan of revolt against the Persians. All of them declare that the revolt must be attempted; only Hekataios admonishes them not to fight against the Persian king, pointing out how great is the king ’s power, but he does not convince them. Here none of the counsellors is shown debating at length in direct speech: the side of the majority gets again only a terse phrase (V 36,2 oiJ me;n dh; a[lloi pavnte" gnwvmhn kata; twjuto; ejxefevronto, keleuvonte" ajpivstasqai ), but Hekataios ’ views are also re- ported briefly in indirect speech (V 36,2). Compared, therefore, with the council of Xerxes, in which all the characters deliver lengthy orations, the aforementioned episodes present an abridged or curtailed form of the ‘pattern of contrasted counsellors ’. In essence, only the part of one counsellor is properly developed, while the opposite side is almost obliterated or fused with the counselled ruler. In addition, the aforementioned episodes lack the contrast between young and elder counsellor (or counsellors), which is a distinctive feature of Xerxes ’ council and brings it very close to various Near Eastern tales discussed below. Another interesting deviation is that in V 36 and VIII 67-69 the confrontation takes place between an entire group of counsellors on one side and a single person on the other: a Near Eastern parallel for this variant will be noted below (the war-council of Ahab, I Kings 22,1-38). Two further Herodotean variants – Cyrus ’ council before the expedition against the Massagetae (I 206-208) and Xerxes ’ consultations after the defeat at Salamis (VIII 100-102) – will also be discussed below (n. 19). 8 For the presumed date of the council see Hdt. VII 7 (two years after Dareios ’ death in 486) and VII 20,1 (four years of preparation following, until the beginning of the expedition in 480); cf. How-Wells 1912, II 133. 222 KONSTANTAKOS probably picture him as being more or less of the same age as Xerxes, who is also represented as fairly young at the time of the council 9 (indeed, Mardonios had married one of Xerxes ’ sisters, see Hdt. VI 43,1). Artabanos, on the other hand, must be a more elderly man: he is brother of Dareios and hence Xerxes ’ uncle; i.e. he belongs to the generation of the fathers of Xerxes and Mardonios (he actually addresses once king Xerxes as w\ pai', ‘my son ’ or ‘my boy ’, Hdt. VII 16, b,2). Herodotus presents Artabanos playing an active role already during Dareios ’ expedition against the Scythians, which must probably be dated between 515 and 510 BC, about thirty years before the council of VII 8-11 10 . So, the young counsellor incites the king to his audacious plan and speaks in favour of the war, while the elderly one utters reservations, points out the dangers of the expedition and tries to dissuade the king from it. In the end, the king rejects the prudent advice of the elderly counsellor and follows the rash exhortation of his own age-mate 11 . Exactly the same narrative pattern, with the king between counsellors contrasted in stance and age, is found in a series of old Near Eastern narratives; this suggests that the pattern was well known and diffused in the narrative traditions of ancient western Asia. This conclusion, in turn, raises questions and opens up interesting possibilities with regard to the sources of the Herodotean story and the ultimate provenance of its nucleus. I shall discuss these issues below, in section 3. But first it is necessary to survey the Near Eastern stories containing the pattern.

2. The ‘pattern of contrasted counsellors ’ in Near Eastern narratives

The oldest among all extant relevant narratives is a Sumerian poem, usually referred to by the title Bilgames and Akka ; this is one of a series of short Sumerian epics concerning the adventures of Bilgames (the Sumerian form of the name of the famous Mesopotamian hero Gilgamesh). As happens with all Sumerian epics, the text of Bilgames and Akka survives on cuneiform tablets from the Old Babylonian period (ca. 18th c. BC), but the composition itself is generally regarded as going back to the period of the Third Dynasty of Ur (Ur III, 21st c. BC), especially the time of king Shulgi (ca. 2094-2047 BC) or his successors 12 . The poem begins with

9 See Hdt. VII 13,2, where Xerxes admits that his youth incited him ( hJ neovth" ejpevzese ) to speak harshly to Artabanos, and VII 18,2, where Artabanos states that he tried to prevent Xerxes from being carried away by his youth ( oujk e[wn se ta; pavnta th'/ hJlikivh/ ei[kein ). 10 See How-Wells 1912, I 429 and A. Corcella in Erodoto. Le Storie , IV. Libro IV. La Scizia e la Libia , Milano 1993, ix, 229. 11 On the age contrast between the two counsellors cf. also generally Reinhardt 1966, 170. 12 See Tigay 1982, 23s.; Bott éro 1992, 27s.; George 2000, xviii-xx, 141-143; George 2003, 7s.; indeed, there have been found a few fragments of Sumerian poems about Bilgames, which date from the Ur III period (see George 2003, 7). The reign of Shulgi and his successors was a time of great literary activity in Sumer; vivid interest seems to have been displayed both in the The Warlike and the Wary 223 a council-scene very similar in structure to the council of Xerxes 13 . Akka, king of the city-state of Kish, sends emissaries to Uruk. The purpose of this dispatch is not explicitly stated, but from what follows it becomes evident that Akka is demanding the submission of Uruk 14 . Bilgames, its king, summons the council of the city to discuss the matter. He himself wants to resist Akka and refuse submission. He first lays the matter before the elders of Uruk, proposing that the city do not submit to Kish but wage war. The elders, however, give him the opposite advice, to submit and avoid the conflict. Bilgames is not satisfied with this answer and takes no notice of the elders ’ opinion. He poses the problem again, this time to the young men of the city. These declare themselves in favour of resistance and war: they accept to fight against Kish, praise Bilgames and assert that the army of Kish will not be able to withstand them. Bilgames rejoices at these words and orders his servant, Enkidu, to prepare the arms and equipment for the battle. A war between Uruk and Kish follows, in which the army of Uruk finally wins and king Akka is taken captive. The analogy between this scene and the Herodotean council of VII 8-11 is obvious. In both cases, the king wants to fight against an enemy power (Bilgames against Kish, Xerxes against Athens), and it is with this intention in mind that he summons the council and proposes war. The elders of Uruk advise their king to avoid it, just as the elderly Artabanos advised Xerxes. But Bilgames is not content with this advice and ignores it, just as Xerxes was displeased with Artabanos ’ creation of new works and in the collection and codification of earlier traditions, the preservation of older compositions or the development of new versions of them. The Sumerian epics, as indeed most of the classical Sumerian literature extant today, presumably go back to that period. See in general A. Falkenstein, Zur Chronologie der sumerischen Literatur , in «Compte-rendu de la seconde rencontre assyriologique internationale », Paris 1951, 12-22; W.W. Hallo, On the anti- quity of Sumerian literature , «JAOS » LXXXIII (1963) 167s.; H. Limet, Les chants épiques sum ériens , «RBPh » L (1972) 5s.; Cohen 1973, 4-14; J. Klein, The Royal Hymns of Shulgi King of Ur: Man ’s Quest for Immortal Fame , Philadelphia 1981, 7; A. Berlin, Ethnopoetry and the Enmerkar epics , «JAOS » CIII (1983) 17; Jacobsen 1987, xii, 277; C. Wilcke, Politik im Spiegel der Literatur, Literatur als Mittel der Politik im älteren Babylonien , in K. Raaflaub (ed.), Anf änge politischen Denkens in der Antike. Die nah östlichen Kulturen und die Griechen , M ünchen 1993, 36s.; Vanstiphout 1995, 6; Alster 1995, 2322; J. Klein, Shulgi of Ur: king of a Neo-Sumerian empire , in Sasson 1995, II 846s.; P. Michalowski, Sumerian literature: an overview , in Sasson 1995, IV 2284; M.L. West, The East Face of Helicon. West Asiatic Elements in Greek Poetry and Myth , Oxford 1997, 61s., 69; Black 1998, 23s., 164s.; Vanstiphout 2003, 1. 13 Bilgames and Akka ll. 1-47: see Kramer 1959, 29-33; A. Falkenstein in Falkenstein et al. 1957-1971, 360; Jacobsen 1987, 345-350; George 2000, 143-146; George 2003, 8s., 18s. 14 According to Kramer (1959, 29-33) and George (2000, 143s. and 2003, 8s.), Uruk is here presented as an independent state and Akka is asking for its submission to his own power. Jacobsen (1987, 345-347), on the other hand, thinks that Uruk is shown from the beginning as a vassal state of Kish: Akka must be sending his emissaries in order to exact the regular corv ée work owed to him by his subjects; but Bilgames decides to rebel against Akka ’s overlordship. 224 KONSTANTAKOS words and did not heed them. On the contrary, the young men incite Bilgames to wage war, just as young Mardonios incited Xerxes. Their exhortatory speech presents similarities with that of Mardonios even in details. They exalt Bilgames by calling him a king and warrior chosen by the gods, the beloved prince of An, the god of heaven (ll. 30-36); similarly, Mardonios calls Xerxes the best of all Persians that live now and will live in the future (Hdt. VII 9,1). They also say that the army of Kish is small and weak and will not be able to withstand the soldiers of Uruk (ll. 37-39); similarly, Mardonios argues that the Greeks are few in number and pow- erless, they will not be able to resist the army of Xerxes, and even if they attempt to fight it, they will realize that the Persians are excellent warriors (Hdt. VII 9, a- g). Thus, in the end, Bilgames follows the bolder view of the young men, which he himself shared from the beginning, just like Xerxes, who had decided to make the war already from the start, before even summoning the council (Hdt. VII 8,1). The two episodes are structured on exactly the same basic pattern, save that in the Sumerian epic the confronted parts are entire groups of advisers (a body of elders and a group of young men), while in Herodotus the counsellors are individuals (an elderly and a young man respectively). I shall return to this point below. There are also two further differences. Firstly, in the Sumerian poem the king listens first to the speech of the elder counsellors and then to that of the young men, while in the Herodotean narrative the order is reversed. Secondly, in the Sumerian epic the king ’s bold plan and the young men ’s incitement lead to a successful ending, since Uruk wins in the ensuing war; but in Herodotus Xerxes ’ reckless decision in favour of the expedition has disastrous consequences in the end. This adventure of Bilgames with Akka and Kish was not included in the great Akkadian Epic of Gilgamesh , which circulated in successive versions later, during the 2nd and 1st millennium BC, in Mesopotamia and in other parts of western Asia. But in the latest, most developed version of this epic, the so-called Standard Version, there is an episode of similar structure, in which the young men and the elders of Uruk are once again contrasted with regard to a very bold plan of Gilgamesh. When Gilgamesh decides to go to the Forest of Cedar and fight against its monstrous guardian, Humbaba, he announces his intention to the young men of Uruk and asks for their blessing, so that he may go on his journey and return to Uruk safe and glad at heart. The epic mentions no response of the young men at this point; instead, Enkidu, Gilgamesh ’s trusty friend, intervenes and asks the people of Uruk to dissuade the hero from this reckless adventure. The elders of Uruk then rise and try to talk Gilgamesh out of his plan. They tell him that he is young and gets carried away by enthusiasm; they also point out how dangerous is the venture he has in mind, how powerful and terrible is Humbaba, whom no-one is able to confront. But Gilgamesh is not intimidated and insists on his plan. In the end, he turns out to be right, because he manages to overcome Humbaba and kills him 15 .

15 Epic of Gilgamesh , tablet II 260-301: see George 2003, 457s., 568-571; cf. also Bott éro 1992, 89-91; George 2000, 21s.; Dalley 2000, 62s. The Warlike and the Wary 225

The structure of this episode differs from that of the previously examined scenes in that the young men do not speak to Gilgamesh to encourage him (unlike those in the Sumerian epic and Mardonios in Herodotus). However, their presence in the council and their juxtaposition to the elder advisers suggest that this scene too is constructed on the same basic pattern, even though in a curtailed or incom- plete form 16 . The king initially sets out his plan, like Xerxes; here too the plan consists in an expedition and fight against an enemy (although this time only Gilgamesh and Enkidu are going to fight, not the entire army of the state). The young men do not speak, but their lack of reaction presumably suggests that they agree with the plan and give the king their blessing, just as Mardonios agrees with Xerxes. Then the elders speak and try to deter the king, like Artabanos. They emphasize the terrible powers of the enemy, just as Artabanos stresses the military valour and courage of the Greeks. They point out to Gilgamesh that he is young and misled by his enthusiasm, as Artabanos, in a later conversation with Xerxes, says that he tried not to let the king give way to his youth (Hdt. VII 18,2). But Gilgamesh is not discouraged by their warnings and sticks to his plan, like the Persian monarch. The same narrative pattern, occasionally with some modifications or variations, is found in several biblical stories about kings of Israel. Consider the story of Rehoboam in I Kings 12,1-20 (also narrated in II Chron. 10,1-19). When Rehoboam succeeds to the throne, after the death of his father Solomon, he goes to Shechem, where the people of Israel have assembled to proclaim him king. The people ask Rehoboam to lighten the hard service and the heavy yoke that Solomon had laid on them, and they promise to serve him in return. Rehoboam asks for three days to think over his reply. Then, he first takes counsel with the elders, who were in the service of his father while he was alive, and asks them how to answer. The elders sensibly advise him to behave well towards the people, to act as their servant, humour them and respond to them with kind words, and then the people will faithfully serve him for ever. But Rehoboam is obviously not satisfied with this answer and pays no attention to the elders ’ prudent words. After that, he takes counsel with his young attendants, the men who have grown up with him and are now in his service. They thoughtlessly exhort him to maintain a hard attitude: Rehoboam must tell his subjects that he will show himself even harsher than his father and will aggravate Solomon ’s heavy yoke, that whereas Solomon used to chastise the people with whips, he will now chastise them with scorpions. Rehoboam adopts this view, and when the people of Israel come to him again, he gives them precisely such a harsh reply. This has grave consequences, because the people are very displeased; they revolt against Rehoboam and the House of David and choose Jero- boam as their king, while Rehoboam is left to rule only over the tribe of Judah. In this narrative, the debated issue is not a military expedition but more generally the overall attitude that the king must demonstrate towards his subjects.

16 The correspondence of this scene with the council in Bilgames and Akka is also noted by Tigay 1982, 24, 73 and George 2003, 18s. 226 KONSTANTAKOS

Otherwise, however, the structure of the biblical story is very similar to that of the Sumerian and the Herodotean council 17 . The elder counsellors express a sensible view, recommending moderate behaviour, like Artabanos, while the young ones incite the king to act recklessly, like Mardonios. The king is not happy with the prudent advice of the former and adopts the thoughtless proposal of the latter, just like Xerxes. Unlike the Herodotean episode, here the elders ’ advice is heard first and that of the young men follows, as in the Sumerian council. But unlike the Sumerian epic, in the story of Rehoboam the acceptance of the young men ’s proposal has disastrous consequences, just as in Herodotus. Another similar scene takes place when Ahab, the king of Israel, decides to march upon Ramoth-gilead and give a battle to recover it from the king of Aram, who is occupying it (see I Kings 22,1-38; also in II Chron. 18,1-34). For this expedition, Ahab asks the alliance of Jehoshaphat, the king of Judah; Jehoshaphat promises to help but prompts Ahab to enquire first for the word of the Lord. So Ahab gathers all the prophets, almost four hundred men, and asks them if he must attack Ramoth-gilead or not. The prophets encourage him to do so and assure him that the Lord will deliver the place to his hands. But Jehoshaphat asks if there is not another prophet of the Lord, whom they may consult, and Ahab admits that there is one more man, Micaiah the son of Imlah, who utters however only unfavourable prophecies. Nonetheless, Ahab summons Micaiah and asks him too about the expedition. After some prevarication, Micaiah finally prophesies that the march to Ramoth- gilead will bring about the end of Ahab: he reveals that the Lord has decided to destroy Ahab, and for that purpose He has sent a lying spirit to speak through the mouth of all the prophets, so that Ahab be misled and attempt the fatal expedition. Ahab, however, pays no attention to Micaiah ’s warnings: he orders to put the prophet in prison, until he himself return from the war safe and sound. After that, the king marches upon Ramoth-gilead, where he gets wounded in the battle and dies. In this episode there is no differentiation between the rival counsellors with regard to their age, no confrontation of the elder with the young as in the other stories. But in all other respects the story pattern is the same. Like Xerxes, the king takes a decision for war and summons a council to discuss it. On one side, there is a group of counsellors who recklessly exhort him to march and assure him of the victory, just like Mardonios. On the other side, a single person appears as the opponent – one prophet who warns the king that this war will have disastrous consequences, like Artabanos 18 . In the story of Ahab the order is the same as in the Herodotean council,

17 The similarity with the Sumerian Bilgames and Akka is noted also by J. Gray, I & II Kings. A Commentary , London 1977 3, 305. 18 The same feature occurs in the Herodotean episodes discussed in n. 7 above, the councils of Xerxes before the sea-battle of Salamis (VIII 67-69) and of Aristagoras before the Ionian revolt (V 36). There too the confrontation takes place between an entire group on one side (the leaders of the various nations of Xerxes ’ army, Aristagoras ’ fellow-rebels) and a single counsellor The Warlike and the Wary 227 with the thoughtless exhortation heard first and the prudent warning afterwards. Once again the king disregards the warnings of the wise counsellor; indeed he punishes him by ordering that he remain in prison until the king returns from the expedition. In the same way Xerxes threatens Artabanos with punishment for his words, saying that only his blood relationship with the king has rescued Artabanos from being punished, and orders him to remain dishonourably back in Persia, while the king himself will be absent in the expedition (Hdt. VII 11,1). A variant of the pattern occurs in the story of Absalom ( II Samuel 17,1-23). When Absalom enters Jerusalem, after David and his men have abandoned it, Ahithophel, the prudent adviser of the young prince, makes a sound proposal: that he (Ahithophel) take with him 12.000 men and pursue David and his army by night; Ahithophel will thus be able to attack David, while the latter is weary and disheart- ened, and throw him into a panic; and after the flight of David ’s troops, he will kill David and bring all the other people back to Absalom. Absalom likes the idea, but summons and consults Hushai the Archite as well; he does not know that Hushai has been secretly sent by David to spy on him and undermine Ahithophel ’s good advice (see II Samuel 15,31-37). Hushai condemns Ahithophel ’s proposal, on the grounds that David and his men are valiant warriors: they will desperately resist the attack, and so the venture may cause severe casualties in Absalom ’s army. For this reason, Hushai proposes instead another plan, which is in fact much more audacious: that all the forces of Israel be gathered together to join Absalom and then attack David en masse , with Absalom himself marching in their midst; in this way, they will completely crush David ’s troops and leave no-one alive. Absalom rejects the prudent advice of Ahithophel and prefers the bold proposal of Hushai, which leads him to disaster: in the great battle that ensues, his army is defeated and the young prince himself is killed. In this story, the conflicting proposals do not bear on whether the king must or must not make an expedition, as in the stories of Xerxes, Bilgames/Gilgamesh and Ahab; it is taken for granted that an attack against David must be attempted, and each of the two counsellors sets out a scheme for a different military venture. In addition, the counsellors are not differentiated with respect to their age (cf. the story of Ahab). But the story conforms to our familiar pattern, in so far as the ruler hears a safer proposal from the one counsellor and a more risky one from his opponent, and chooses the latter with disastrous consequences 19 . The rival counsel- on the other, who alone opposes the group (Artemisia, Hekataios). Cf. also Cyrus ’ council in I 206-208 (below, n. 19). 19 The story of Absalom resembles more closely another Herodotean tale about contrasted advisers, Cyrus ’ council in I 206-208. While Cyrus prepares to invade the land of the Massagetae, Tomyris, their queen, proposes to him two alternative plans of war: either the Massagetae will withdraw three days ’ journey from the river Araxes and the Persians will cross into their land, or vice versa the Persians will withdraw and receive the Massagetae into their own territory. 228 KONSTANTAKOS lors are again single individuals, as in the Herodotean council, and not entire groups, as in the other stories. In fact, the confrontation of the two contrasted counsellors or groups of them (which we may call the ‘two-sided ’ pattern) is an expanded and more complex form of another, simpler narrative structure, which is also widespread in Near Eastern tales. In this simpler pattern (which we may call ‘one-sided ’), the king wants to undertake a war or some other bold venture and his counsellors try to dissuade him, because they consider it thoughtless and risky; but the king disregards their reservations, sometimes with positive and sometimes with unpleasant consequences. What is missing here, by comparison to the fuller pattern, is the party speaking in favour of the bold plan; the counsellors are limited to a single, unanimous group opposing the plan, and the king himself appears as its only advocate, not seconded by any adviser.

Cyrus summons his leading men and holds a council. All the Persians advise him to receive the enemy into the Persian territory; only Kroisos argues that it is better to invade the country of the Massagetae. Cyrus accepts Kroisos ’ counsel, and this ultimately leads to a great battle, in which the Persians suffer defeat and great casualties and Cyrus himself gets killed. Here, as in the story of Absalom, the conflicting proposals concern two different military ventures, one more conservative and cautious (withdrawal before the Massagetae) and one bolder (attack and invasion of their land). Cyrus chooses the bolder undertaking, which leads him to defeat and death, just like Absalom. We notice again the unequal, asymmetric development of parts, which characterizes also the council of VIII 67-69: Kroisos expounds his views at length in direct speech (I 207), but the opposite group of counsellors is summarily dealt with in one brief phrase (I 206,3 tw'n de; kata; twjuto; aiJ gnw'mai sunexevpipton keleuovntwn ejsdevkesqai Tovmurivn te kai; to;n strato;n aujth'" ej" th;n cwvrhn ). For the confrontation between a group and a single individual cf. the story of Ahab and Micaiah above. A comparable structure, but with reversed results, underlies the episode in Hdt. VIII 100-102. After the defeat at Salamis, Xerxes is much distressed, so Mardonios proposes to him two alternative plans of operation: a bolder (that Xerxes stay in Greece and attack the Peloponnese) and a more conservative one (that Xerxes himself depart, along with the greatest part of his army, and leave Mardonios with 300.000 men to continue the war in Greece). Xerxes confers with his counsellors to decide; he also summons Artemisia, who had given him such good advice before the sea-battle, and lays Mardonios ’ proposals before her. Artemisia recommends the more conservative one, as safer and more advantageous for the king; this time Xerxes follows her advice, and indeed gets safely home in the end. Here the choice is again between two opposed military ventures, but, contrary to Cyrus, Xerxes chooses the more cautious one and is saved. There is no proper confrontation of counsellors before the decision: before consulting Artemisia, Xerxes deliberates with his other advisers (VIII 101,1 ejbouleuveto a{ma Persevwn toi'si ejpiklhvtoisi ), but no mention is made of their opinion; the potential opposite side is here practically eliminated. There is, however, a contrast and an implicit rivalry between the rash Mardonios (who still believes that he will subjugate Greece and underestimates the Greeks, VIII 100) and the wise Artemisia (who prudently reckons with the possibility of defeat and conveys clear overtones of disdain against Mardonios, VIII 102; cf. A. Masaracchia, Erodoto. La battaglia di Salamina. Libro VIII delle Storie , Milano 1977, 208); both hold speeches before the king, like the opposed counsellors of other scenes. Perhaps because of this implicit confrontation in the broader context, Herodotus chose not to include another one within the council-scene itself. The Warlike and the Wary 229

The oldest known example of the ‘one-sided ’ pattern is again found in a Sumerian narrative poem, known today by the title Enmerkar and Ensuhkeshdanna 20 . This poem is preserved in tablets from about the 19th c. BC, but its composition presumably goes back to the Ur III period 21 . Ensuhkeshdanna, the lord of the city of Aratta, wants to subdue Uruk and sends a provocative message to its king, Enmerkar, demanding his submission. Enmerkar refuses and sends back to Ensuhkeshdanna an angry and humiliating reply. The lord of Aratta searches for an answer to Enmerkar ’s proud words; he summons his priests and palace attendants and asks them what response he must give. They warn him that Enmerkar is more powerful and advise him to give in. The ambitious ruler is not pleased and rejects this advice; he refuses to submit to Enmerkar and continues the struggle against Uruk, by sending there a sorcerer to harm the land. But this leads to unpleasant consequences, because in the end Ensuhkeshdanna is utterly defeated and obliged to recognize Enmerkar ’s supe- riority 22 . A second example is furnished by some older versions of the Akkadian Epic of Gilgamesh , which predate the Standard Version. In the episode of the hero ’s expedition to the Forest of Cedar (cf. above), when Gilgamesh convenes an assem- bly to announce his intentions, those versions do not mention the young men of Uruk (as does later the Standard text), but only the elders. Gilgamesh speaks to the elders about his plan and they try to dissuade him, pointing out how dangerous it is; but the hero pays no heed to them, and in the end he triumphs and kills the monster 23 . We may plausibly suppose that the more expanded and complex council- scene of the later version, in which two opposite groups of counsellors are juxta- posed, was developed from the simpler scene of the earlier ones. Another Asiatic example is attested in later Persian tradition, in the legend about Kay Kavus ’ expedition against Mazanderan, which we now read in Ferdowsi ’s

20 Or Enmerkar and Ensuhgirana , as some scholars prefer to read the name of Enmerkar ’s opponent: see Black 1998, 13; Vanstiphout 2003, 23ss. 21 See Berlin 1979, 1; Vanstiphout 2003, 27; and above, n. 12. Generally on this poem see S.N. Kramer-T. Jacobsen, Enmerkar and Ensukusˇsiranna , «Orientalia » XXIII (1954) 232-234; Kramer 1959, 204-207; S.N. Kramer, The Sumerians. Their History, Culture, and Character , Chicago-London 1963, 272s.; Cohen 1973, 16s., 22; H.L.J. Vanstiphout, Problems in the “Matter of Aratta ”, «Iraq » XLV (1983) 38s., 41; C. Wilcke, Sumerische Streitgedichte , in Kindlers Neues Literaturlexikon XIX (1992) 603s.; Alster 1995, 2316, 2324; Vanstiphout 1995, 6s., 11. 22 Enmerkar and Ensuhkeshdanna ll. 117-134: see Berlin 1979, 6, 46s., 76s.; Vanstiphout 2003, 34-37. 23 So in the so-called ‘Yale tablet ’, which preserves part of the Old Babylonian version of the epic (OB III ll. 172-205); see George 2003, 192-195, 200-203; also F.M.T. de Liagre B öhl in Falkenstein et al. 1957-1971, 365; E.A. Speiser in Pritchard 1969, 80; Tigay 1982, 73-76; Bott éro 1992, 39, 239-241; George 2000, 108, 111s.; Dalley 2000, 144s. Parts of the same episode, including the deterring speech of the elders, are also contained in a fragment of the Middle ˇ ö ˇ Babylonian version found at Bog azk y (MB Bog 1, fr. d) and in an Assyrian fragment from an intermediate version (Assyr. MS y 2 obv.); see George 2003, 40-42, 308, 312-315, 353-359. 230 KONSTANTAKOS

Shahnameh . King Kavus is beguiled by the song of a daemon disguised as a min- strel, who lavishly praises the country of Mazanderan for its physical beauties and wealth. Kavus is lured and announces to his nobles that he intends to make war and conquer that country. The nobles are very much worried, because Mazanderan is known to be inhabited by dangerous daemons. They dare not speak their minds openly but send for the great hero Zal; he comes and tries to dissuade Kavus by pointing out the folly of a war against daemons and their sorceries. Kavus, however, does not change his mind: he marches against Mazanderan and meets with disaster at the daemons ’ hands; he and his army are captured, and Rostam, Zal ’s valiant son, has to go to Mazanderan and rescue them 24 . This tale is presumably much older than Ferdowsi ’s poem. The entire cycle of stories about the legendary Kayanian kings, to which it belongs, goes back to heroic legends and popular tales collected, combined and written down during the Sasanian period (3rd-7th c. AD); and those legends may well have been handed down by oral tradition from very old times (perhaps already from around the mid-1st millennium BC) 25 . The ‘one-sided ’ pattern occurs also in ancient Egypt, in historical inscriptions and inscriptional chronicles of pharaohs. In such texts the king ’s historical exploits are commonly narrated in a highly rhetorical manner and with obvious poetical embellishments, and the narrative often incorporates literary themes and novelistic motifs. A standard motif of this sort is the royal council: the king summons his

24 See Mohl 1876-1878, I 384-394; Warner-Warner 1905-1925, II 30-38; D. Davis, The Lion and the Throne. Stories from the Shahnameh of Ferdowsi , Washington 2005 2, 196-200. 25 On the whole see Mohl 1876-1878, I v-xxi, lvii-lviii; E.G. Browne, A Literary History of Persia , I, London 1902, 110-123; Warner-Warner 1905-1925, I 56-69; T. N öldeke, Das iranische Nationalepos , Berlin-Leipzig 1920 2, 1s., 5-19; M. Boyce, Zariadres and Zare¯r, «BSOAS » XVII (1955) 468-477; M. Boyce, Middle Persian Literature , in Handbuch der Orientalistik , I.4.2.1. Iranistik, Literatur , Leiden 1968, 55-60; Gershevitch 1968, 2, 5, 10, 23-26; M. Boyce, Parthian Writings and Literature , in Yarshater 1983, 1154-1158; E. Yarshater, Iranian historical tradition , in Yarshater 1983, 341-477 (especially 342, 359-361, 388-393, 396, 400, 412-416, 436-438, 461-465, and on the legends about Kay Kavus in particular 349, 374s., 444-448); B. Alavi, Ferdousi , in Kindlers Neues Literaturlexikon V (1988) 479s. It is noteworthy that the tale about Kay Kavus presents many close similarities of detail with the council scene in Hdt. VII 8-11 (some of them were noted by Bauer 1882, 513). These are so distinctive that they cannot be explained simply by the sharing of a common pattern. Pohlenz (1937, 127) has conjectured that Herodotus ’ story itself may have influenced the formation of the tale of Kavus at a later stage. This is a possibility, the Herodotean story having perhaps passed into the Iranian tradition during Sasanian times, when the numerous contacts between Sasanian Iran and the Byzantine world facilitated the exchange of narrative material (on this see e.g. T. H ägg, Parthenope. Selected Studies in Ancient Greek Fiction , Copenhagen 2004, 288s. with further bibliography). But there is also another possibility: at some point (perhaps during the Parthian or the Sasanian period), the tale of Kavus may have absorbed the ancient Persian story about Xerxes ’ council, on which Herodotus ’ narrative is based (see below sect. 3). There is no space here to investigate this matter in detail, but I intend to do so in a future essay. The Warlike and the Wary 231 courtiers or officials and announces to them his plan for some great deed (often a war or an expedition, but also other kinds of undertakings, like the building or restoration of a temple or the foundation of a cult). Typically, the courtiers respond by praising the king and his actions. But in some cases they may express reservations about the king ’s overbold plan and advise caution or propose an alternative, safer course of action; in this way our familiar pattern ensues 26 . This kind of scene occurs in the narrative of the first stela of Kamose, the ruler of Thebes during the Hyksos period (17th Dynasty, mid-16th c. BC) 27 . Kamose speaks to the council of his officials and deplores the lamentable state into which the divided land of Egypt has fallen, as the Asiatics hold sway in the northern part and the Nubians in the south. So he announces that he has decided to make war against the Asiatics of the north, in order to defeat them and save the country. But the counsellors declare in unison that they are content with the existing state of affairs; they enumerate the advantages of the peace with the Asiatics and advise their ruler not to go to war, since he has received no provocation. Kamose is displeased and insists on his decision to fight; in the end, he wins an important victory over the Asiatics. Another example is found in the Annals of Thutmose III (18th Dynasty, ca. 1479-1425) about his campaigns in Asia, which were carved on walls of the temple of Amun in Karnak; the relevant episode takes place before the battle of Megiddo during Thutmose ’s first campaign. The king holds a council of war with his army officers and proposes to attack the enemies, who have entered the city of Megiddo. The officers express some misgivings about the road which the king plans to follow, because it is too narrow and dangerous, and propose instead two other, safer roads. But the king decides to proceed on the former itinerary, and indeed the army passes the road with safety 28 . Although these texts refer to histori-

26 For all this see in general J. Spiegel, Göttergeschichten, Erz ählungen, M ärchen, Fabeln , in Handbuch der Orientalistik , I.1.2. Ägyptologie, Literatur , Leiden-K öln 1970, 161s.; Otto 1970, 172-175; J. Osing, Königsnovelle , in Lexikon der Ägyptologie III (1980) 556s.; Van Seters 1983, 140-143, 147-149, 160-164; L. Koenen, The dream of Nektanebos , «BASP » XXII (1985) 172s., 185-188; Redford 1992, 142, 374-377; Redford 1995, 2235s.; Bresciani 1999, 76. 27 A few fragments of this stela were discovered at Karnak, but the largest part of its text is mainly known from a copy on an approximately contemporary or slightly later writing board (the so-called Carnarvon Tablet I). See A.H. Gardiner, The defeat of the Hyksos by Kamo¯se: the Carnarvon tablet, No. I , «JEA » III (1916) 95-110; Gunn-Gardiner 1918, 45-47; S äve-S öderbergh 1951, 67-69; M. Hammad, Découverte d ’une st èle du roi Kamose , «CdE » XXX (1955) 198s.; P. Montet, La st èle du roi Kamose , «CRAI » (1956) 113s.; J. Van Seters, The Hyksos. A New Investigation , New Haven-London 1966, 165-167; J.A. Wilson in Pritchard 1969, 232; Van Seters 1983, 146; Redford 1992, 126s.; Bresciani 1999, 246-248; W.K. Simpson in Simpson 2003, 345s. 28 See J.H. Breasted, Ancient Records of Egypt , II, Chicago 1906, 180-183; M. Lichtheim, Ancient Egyptian Literature , II, Berkeley-Los Angeles-London 1976, 29-32; Van Seters 1983, 147s.; Bresciani 1999, 253-255; J.K. Hoffmeier in W.W. Hallo (ed.), The Context of Scripture , II, Leiden-Boston 2003, 7-10. 232 KONSTANTAKOS cal events, the king ’s council with his officials and his rejection of their hesitations should rather be regarded as a typical literary motif, clearly used here in order to exalt the monarch ’s courage and heroism 29 . A lighter scene of this kind is found later in a humorous Demotic tale about Pharaoh Amasis, preserved on a papyrus of the early Ptolemaic period 30 . One day Amasis says to his grandees that he wants to drink a very large quantity of Egyptian wine 31 . They warn him that such a quantity may be too heavy and overpowering. But Amasis pays no heed to their warning and tells them not to oppose his will; the grandees submit to the king, and Amasis proceeds to have a dinner-party with his wives, in which he drinks a lot. The consequences, however, are very unpleasant, because the next day Amasis wakes up with a terrible hangover, he is unable to raise himself and do any work 32 . This is clearly a parody of the type of council- scene, which we traced above in Egyptian royal inscriptions and annals 33 . As there, so in the Demotic tale the king begins by announcing his intention to his officials; this time, however, his plan does not consist in some great military deed but in the consumption of a huge quantity of wine. As in the typical pattern, the officials warn the king of the dangers of his plan and he defies them; but now the result of his boldness is not a glorious victory but a big incapacitating hangover. The heroic

29 See Gunn-Gardiner 1918, 47; S äve-S öderbergh 1951, 69; Otto 1970, 175; Van Seters 1983, 146, 148, 150, 161; Redford 1992, 126s., 142, 377; Redford 1995, 2236; K.S.B. Ryholt, The Political Situation in Egypt during the Second Intermediate Period , Copenhagen 1997, 177; Bresciani 1999, 253. 30 See W. Spiegelberg, Die sogenannte Demotische Chronik des Pap. 215 der Biblioth èque Nationale zu Paris , Leipzig 1914, 26-28; Brunner-Traut 1965, 153-155, 290s.; M üller 1989, 224; Quaegebeur 1990, 265-270; Bresciani 1999, 880s.; Hoffmann 2000, 197-199; G. Maspero, Popu- lar Stories of Ancient Egypt , ed. H. El-Shamy, Santa Barbara-Denver-Oxford 2002, 233-237; R.K. Ritner in Simpson 2003, 450-452; and the additional bibliography cited in nn. 31, 33 and 34. 31 For this interpretation of the text ( qlby meaning rather a measure or container of great capacity, perhaps approximately 12 litres, and not a particular kind of wine, as was earlier supposed) see K.-T. Zauzich, Wie ma ß-voll war Amasis? , «Enchoria » XVI (1988) 139s.; Quaegebeur 1990, 266-270; Bresciani 1999, 880; Hoffmann 2000, 197; R.K. Ritner in Simpson 2003, 451. 32 Cf. the Greek stories about Alexander ’s heavy carousing, followed again by days of torpidity and sleep: e.g. Plut. Quaest. conv. 623d-e, Ath. X 434b, Ael. VH III 23 (all from the so- called ‘royal ephemerides ’ of Alexander, FGrHist 117 F 2a-c). In some anecdotal or fictionalized accounts of his last days, Alexander drinks such a huge quantity of unmixed wine at a banquet, that he falls sick and dies: see Diod. XVII 117,1-5; Ephippos, FGrHist 126 F 3 (= Ath. X 434a- b); Nikoboule, FGrHist 127 F 1s. (= Ath. X 434c, XII 537d); Iustin. Epit. XII 13,6-10; cf. Plut. Alex. 75,4-6 (citing Aristoboulos, FGrHist 139 F 59). See F. Jacoby in FGrHist II D, pp. 405s., 438, 440; J.R. Hamilton, Plutarch, Alexander. A Commentary , Oxford 1969, 208-211. 33 Cf. M üller 1989, 224s., Quaegebeur 1990, 265 and M. Depauw, A Companion to Demotic Studies , Bruxelles 1997, 89s., who point out that this and other tales about Amasis offer a comic, irreverent transformation of the so-called Königsnovelle , a genre of royal inscriptional texts narrating the deeds of Pharaoh in a literarily embellished manner, with standard novelistic motifs (see n. 26 above for bibliography). The Warlike and the Wary 233 story-pattern of royal historiography and propaganda is here burlesqued in a satiri- cal popular tale. It is noteworthy that tales of this sort about Amasis had become known in the Greek world by the 5th c. BC: the stories found in Herodotus (II 172-174), Hellanikos (FGrHist 4 F 55 = Ath. XV 680b-c), and later Plutarch ( Sept. sap. conv. 151a-e), must ultimately go back to Egyptian tales, although the Greek narrators have clearly reworked their models and introduced Greek motifs 34 . Consider e.g. the tale in Hdt. II 173: Amasis sedulously transacts the business of the state in the morning, but spends the rest of the day drinking and enjoying himself in parties; his ‘friends ’ (fivloi , Hdt. II 173,2) reprove him for this; but Amasis answers that, as a bow cannot be kept stretched all the time, or else it will break, so a man cannot stand to have only work and no play. Here too, as in the Demotic tale, Amasis indulges in drinking and a group of counsellors point out to him that this is not right. The counsellors are called the king ’s ‘friends ’ in the Greek version; but it is not difficult to guess that in the original Egyptian tale they would be a group of courtiers or officials, as in the Demotic narrative. So, the dissemination of tales about Amasis offers a specific example of a way, by which the pattern under discussion (at least in its simpler form) could pass from Eastern narratives into the Greek storytelling tradition. Indeed, the ‘one-sided ’ form of the pattern occurs also in Greek stories. For instance, in the Iliad (XII 196-264), when Hector and his men are preparing to break through the Achaean wall and set the enemy ships on fire, they are suddenly stopped by a bad omen (an eagle appears carrying a snake in his talons, but the snake smites him on his breast, and the eagle is forced by pain to let the snake fall). Then, Polydamas advises Hector not to attack the ships, because that operation will cause many losses to the Trojans. But Hector ignores Polydamas ’ warning and leads on his soldiers to the attack. The pattern is also found in Herodotus, especially in stories about oriental monarchs. For instance, Kroisos prepares to march against the Per- sians and the wise Sandanis tries to deter him, but without success (I 71); Dareios wants to invade Scythia and Artabanos warns him of the difficulties of such an expedition, but Dareios does not change his mind (IV 83). In all the above cases, the rejection of the counsellor ’s warning leads in the end to defeat or to grave losses. Herodotus also presents a variant of the pattern, in which the king accepts the counsellor ’s advice: in I 27 Kroisos is preparing to construct a fleet, in order to conquer

34 See W. Spiegelberg, Die Glaubw ürdigkeit von Herodots Bericht über Ägypten im Lichte der ägyptischen Denkm äler , Heidelberg 1926, 28-31; M. Pieper, Das ägyptische M ärchen , Leip- zig 1935, 52-54, 65; H. de Meulenaere, Herodotos over de 26ste Dynastie , Leuven 1951, 93-96; Brunner-Traut 1965, 155s., 290; C. Froidefond, Le mirage égyptien dans la litt érature grecque d’Hom ère à Aristote , Gap 1971, 183-185; A.B. Lloyd, Herodotus. Book II , Leiden 1975-1988, I 103s., III 212-215; M üller 1989, 209-236; Quaegebeur 1990, 265s.; Bresciani 1999, 880; Hoffmann 2000, 198s.; I.M. Konstantakos, Trial by riddle: The testing of the counsellor and the contest of kings in the legend of Amasis and Bias , «C&M » LV (2004) 86-96, 116-119. 234 KONSTANTAKOS the Greek islands, but Bias (or Pittakos) dissuades him, by cleverly demonstrating the risks involved; Kroisos is convinced and thus avoids a dangerous adventure 35 . To conclude our survey, we may trace a tendency with regard to the development of this narrative pattern in the course of time. It seems probable that the confrontation of two opposite groups of counsellors is its oldest and primary form, the one employed in the most ancient tales of this type. This is suggested by the fact that such groups appear in the earliest extant narratives based on the ‘two-sided ’ pattern: the Sumerian Bilgames and Akka (end of the 3rd millennium BC) and the Standard Version of the Epic of Gilgamesh (end of the 2nd millennium BC). A group of counsellors is used also in the oldest specimens of the simpler, ‘one-sided ’ pattern, the Sumerian Enmerkar and Ensuhkeshdanna (end of the 3rd millennium BC), the older versions of the Epic of Gilgamesh (2nd millennium BC), the stela of Kamose (mid-16th c. BC) and the Annals of Thutmose III (15th c. BC). The replacement of the groups by individual advisers (as in Hdt. VII 8-11 and in the story of Absalom) must be a secondary form, the product of later development. Perhaps an intermediate stage of this development is represented by those tales, in which a single counsellor is opposed to an entire group, like the confrontation of Micaiah and the rest of the prophets in the story of Ahab and the councils in Hdt. I 206-208, V 36 and VIII 67-69. In those narratives, one group of counsellors is retained, but the other one has been replaced by a single individual.

3. The sources of the Herodotean story

As demonstrated in the previous section, Xerxes ’ council in Hdt. VII 8-11 is based on a pattern very well known in Near Eastern traditions and occurring, with variations, in many narratives. Of course, its simpler, ‘one-sided ’ form, with the unique dissuasive counsellor, occurs also in Greek stories (although it is noteworthy that these very often concern oriental kings). Even examples of the more expanded, ‘two-sided ’ pattern can be found in other Herodotean episodes ( e.g. V 36, VIII 67-69): but there the pattern is not really developed in full, because only one of the counsellors (the dissuasive one) is shown properly expounding his arguments, while the opposite side is barely indicated by a brief phrase, simply noting its agreement with the king ’s view. In essence, therefore, the structure of those episodes is not very different from the ‘one-sided ’ pattern with the unique wary adviser. Among all Herodotean examples, only VII 8-11 shows the ‘two-sided ’ pattern fully fledged, with both rival counsellors having equal parts and properly setting out their views. In addition, it is only in this episode that we find the age

35 For this pattern in Herodotus cf. Lattimore 1939, 24-26; Solmsen 1974, 144; Chiasson 1979, 124-126; F.A.J. Nielsen, The Tragedy in History. Herodotus and the Deuteronomistic His- tory , Sheffield 1997, 65s.; on the episode with Polydamas in the Iliad cf. Chiasson 1979, 126-128. The Warlike and the Wary 235 contrast between the two counsellors. In these respects, the council of VII 8-11 is a truly unique scene, which has no exact parallel in Herodotus 36 . But close parallels do exist for its basic structure, and these are found in the narrative traditions of the Near East: especially the age contrast, the confrontation of a young comrade of the king with an elder man of the previous generation, strongly connects the Herodotean scene with Near Eastern stories like those of Bilgames/Gilgamesh and Rehoboam. What are the implications of all this with regard to the possible sources of Hdt. VII 8-11? How are we to explain the characteristically Near Eastern narrative pattern, on which this scene is structured? Where did Herodotus receive the pattern from? What conclusions may be drawn from it concerning the ultimate models and the formation of his story? Some scholars have argued that the council episode is a free composition of Herodotus, which the historian created entirely on his own, without relying on any previous source, Greek or foreign 37 . However, the distinctly Near Eastern pattern of VII 8-11 suggests that, in shaping the episode, Herodotus was inspired, at least to some extent, by elements which came, directly or indirectly, from the narrative tradition of the East. If we admit that Xerxes ’ council is, as a whole, a Herodotean invention, we must assume that Herodotus knew other similar tales, presumably of Near Eastern provenance, about councils with opposed advisers, and modelled his own story on them. Those tales must have been akin to the ones about Bilgames/ Gilgamesh and Rehoboam discussed above: they would have shown a king who announced an expedition to his council, was incited by a young adviser (or group of advisers) and dissuaded by an older one (or a group of elders), and in the end followed the bold advice of the former. Herodotus might well have heard such tales in various parts of Asia, where he travelled, or he might have learned them from Greeks who had contacts with the Near Eastern world. From such a tale he bor- rowed the basic pattern and adapted it to the conditions of the Achaemenid court and the facts of the Persian wars. In the role of the king he cast, of course, Xerxes, and the expedition planned became Xerxes ’ invasion of Greece. The part of the young encouraging counsellor was given to Mardonios, Xerxes ’ brother-in-law, who was shown elsewhere too in Herodotus ’ narrative advocating the war against Greece or actively taking part in it. For the part of the elder, cautious counsellor, Xerxes ’ uncle Artabanos was chosen 38 . The above scenario cannot be excluded. Nevertheless, the Near Eastern pattern creates a strong suspicion that Herodotus did not invent Xerxes ’ council entirely by himself, but received at least its core from a Persian source 39 . This is indeed what

36 This has been pointed out by some scholars: see Pohlenz 1937, 127s.; Reinhardt 1966, 169s.; Solmsen 1974, 144. 37 So Fehling 1989, 204s. and Erbse 1992, 74-76. 38 On the criteria for the choice of these particular persons see also below. 39 Cf. Reinhardt 1966, 169s. 236 KONSTANTAKOS many scholars believe, more or less: Herodotus must have fashioned the story with great liberty and personal creativity, but still around a given Persian kernel, using data or traditions which he had learned from his informants – whether Persians or Greeks who maintained contact with Persia and had knowledge of Persian matters and stories 40 . For instance, he may have obtained information that in the Persian court or in Xerxes ’ entourage there were two opposite views about the war against Greece, supported by rival parties: one favouring the invasion and the expansion of the empire towards the Greek world, and another one more reserved and concerned about the risks of such an undertaking 41 . Perhaps he also had information that Xerxes had held one or more councils with his officials before the war, although we need not assume that he learned details about the exact questions discussed and the opinions put forward on those occasions 42 . Based on this material, Herodotus created the tale of VII 8-11 by giving a dramatic form to the conflict of opposite views or parties he had heard about: he transformed the dissent and rivalries, which must have divided the Persian court for a long time, into a dramatized council- scene, in which two rival counsellors appeared quarrelling before the king 43 . That Herodotus was in a position to obtain such information and learn Persian traditions may be regarded as certain. As remarked by D. Lewis, in Herodotus ’ time, as also earlier and later during the classical period, there was no impenetrable ‘iron curtain ’ between the Greek world and Achaemenid Persia 44 ; so Herodotus would have encountered no difficulty to come into contact with people who had relevant information to give him. Various sorts of such people were around. There were some Greeks who had lived in the Achaemenid court in the time of Dareios and Xerxes, like e.g. the physician Demokedes, the Spartan king Demaratos and the Athenian exile Dikaios: Herodotus might have met their descendants and heard from them their ancestors ’ tales (preserved as family traditions) about Persian court

40 So Jacoby 1913, 445s.; Pohlenz 1937, 127s.; Legrand 1951, 18-22; Hignett 1963, 90s.; Reinhardt 1966, 168-172; Aly 1969, 169; Solmsen 1974, 150s.; Waters 1985, 66s.; Gould 1989, 69s.; Briant 2002, 525s. 41 This is argued by Jacoby 1913, 445; Legrand 1951, 20-22; Hignett 1963, 90s.; Waters 1985, 66; cf. Pohlenz 1937, 127s.; Gould 1989, 70. 42 For such a hypothesis see Pohlenz 1937, 127; Solmsen 1974, 150; cf. Lateiner 1989, 272 n. 12; H. Sancisi-Weerdenburg, The personality of Xerxes, King of Kings , in Bakker-de Jong-van Wees 2002, 584s. 43 Cf. the remarks of Legrand 1951, 20. The debate on the Persian constitution (Hdt. III 80- 83) might be a comparable case: this episode too may have grown from an elementary core of information about political deliberations or debates within high circles of the Persian aristocracy after the throne crisis of 522/521; it also appears to be structured on an oriental pattern of court contests of eloquence; these elements have then been creatively developed under the strong influence of Greek political discourse and adapted to the familiar constitutional perspective of the Hellenic poleis . See handily D. Asheri in Erodoto. Le storie , III. Libro III. La Persia , Milano 1990, 295-297, with a selection from the vast bibliography. 44 See Lewis 1985, 104. The Warlike and the Wary 237 life. A number of Greeks were also employed in Persian administration and bu- reaucracy, as is testified by the Persepolis tablets: those people would have access to information about the organization of the Achaemenid state and possibly to traditions about Persian history. There even were Persians, with whom Herodotus might have made contact, especially men who had sought refuge to Greece: e.g. Zopyros the son of Megabyxos (the standard, though not uncontested, example), a descendant of a noble Persian family, who could doubtless narrate many tales about Persian kings and lords, in whose environment his family had lived for a long time; or servants of Persian noblemen, like the eunuch of Sataspes (a nephew of Dareios ’), who took refuge to Samos (Hdt. IV 43). But the historian might also have met Persians in Asia. We need not assume that Herodotus restricted himself to a single type of informants: he could very well have exploited all the above sources, draw- ing different kinds of material from each one; and from all of them together he could have assembled a multitude of stories about Persia and its history 45 . I should like to go one step further than the aforementioned scholars and propose a bolder scenario. I suggest that Herodotus based the story of VII 8-11 not simply on general information about the existence of conflicting views in the Per- sian court, but on a proper, fully developed tale, which showed the representatives of those views giving conflicting advice to the king in a council – that is, a tale structured according to the narrative pattern surveyed in section 2. In other words, the ‘fictionalization ’ of the Persian dissent about the invasion of Greece, its drama- tization in the form of a council-scene, must have taken place already before Herodotus, in the Persian tradition. The main indication for this is precisely the basic fabric of

45 On Herodotus ’ informants about Persia see Jacoby 1913, 414s.; J. Wells, Studies in Herodotus , Oxford 1923, 95-107; Gershevitch 1968, 5; Lewis 1985, 104-117; O. Murray, Herodotus and oral history , in H. Sancisi-Weerdenburg-A. Kuhrt (edd.), Achaemenid History , II. The Greek Sources , Leiden 1987, 108-115; S.C. Brown, The m êdikos logos of Herodotus and the evolution of the Median state , in A. Kuhrt-H. Sancisi-Weerdenburg (edd.), Achaemenid History , III. Method and Theory , Leiden 1988, 79, 86; Gould 1989, 20-27; Lateiner 1989, 101s., 254 n. 43 (with more bibliography), 272 n. 12; J.A.S. Evans, Herodotus, Explorer of the Past. Three Essays , Princeton 1991, 140; P. H ögemann, Das alte Vorderasien und die Ach ämeniden. Ein Beitrag zur Herodot- Analyse , Wiesbaden 1992, 60s.; S. Hornblower, Herodotus and his sources of information , in Bakker-de Jong-van Wees 2002, 378. Cf. also the methodological remarks of Sancisi-Weerdenburg 1995, 372-378 (brought to my attention by the editors of «Eikasm ós»), concerning the extent of early Athenian knowledge about Persia and the dilution of traditions in the process of oral transmission between different languages. She is rightly sceptical about the quantity and quality of information available in the Athens of Aeschylus’ time. But the latter is not necessarily indicative of Herodotus ’ scope of knowledge: apart from the possibility that between Aeschylus ’ Persians and Herodotus Greek contacts with the Achaemenid world increased, Herodotus could have had access to a much broader range of sources also by virtue of his origins, enquiry and travels (cf. Belloni 1994, xxix, 83). Generally on Aeschylus ’ knowledge of the Persian world see Belloni 1994, especially xvii-xxvi, xxxi-xxxiii, xxxviii-xlvi, 82-87, 236s., 239-243, with much bibliography. 238 KONSTANTAKOS the Herodotean story, the confrontation of two counsellors contrasted both in their opinions and in their age. As we saw, this pattern is of Near Eastern provenance and exploited par excellence in narratives of western Asia; for this reason, it seems more probable that its use for structuring Xerxes ’ council goes back already to an Eastern tradition – in our case the Persian one, which doubtless created post eventum tales about Xerxes ’ abortive Greek expedition. It is not difficult to imagine, in broad outline, the formation of that tale in the Persian environment. Its substratum is historical: the disagreement about the Greek war, which must have actually existed in circles of the Persian court, nobility or administration. It is natural to suppose that on this war, as perhaps generally on the question of imperial expansion, conflicting opinions had been formed within the Persian ruling class, and that these were supported by rival groups or parties in the king ’s environment 46 . This historical divergence of opinions was then fictionalized in the context of the Persian narrative tradition, doubtless after the decision for the expedition had been taken, probably after the inglorious end of the entire venture. In order to shape the historical circumstances into an enthralling tale, the Persian narrators used the well-known pattern of the contrasted counsellors, which was popular in the East from very early times. In the survey of section 2 we traced it in Mesopotamian and Hebrew stories, but we may suppose that it had penetrated into the Persian narrative tradition as well: at least the story of Kay Kavus (told in Ferdowsi ’s Shahnameh but presumably descended from much more ancient times) provides another Iranian example, based on a simpler but related ‘one-sided ’ pattern. According to this familiar narrative structure, Xerxes was cast in the standard role of the king planning a military operation and summoning a council to discuss it. And the historical conflict of opinions within his entourage was also presented according to the typical fictional layout, as a confrontation between a young inciting counsellor and an elderly warning one. Such must have been the tale that Herodotus heard from his informants. The Persian noblemen, with whom the historian could have made contact in Asia or Greece (Zopyros or others), as well as the Greeks who had lived in the Achaemenid court (or their descendants), might easily have heard a fictionalized account of this sort about the preparations of the great war. Either category could have provided an informant to narrate the account to Herodotus, perhaps along with other colourful tales about Xerxes ’ expedition. The historian, of course, did not limit himself to simply writing down or reporting the account he had heard. It is obvious that he used it as a sort of narrative canvas, in order to develop his own story in a free and creative manner. It was clearly Herodotus himself that gave to the three characters ’ orations their present form, as we read it in VII 8-11: all three speeches are full of distinctly Greek, indeed characteristically Herodotean elements.

46 See n. 41 above. The Warlike and the Wary 239

With regard to content, they include favourite ideas of Herodotus and themes often recurring in his work 47 . As to form and phrasing, they reveal a strong influence from tragedy, especially from Aeschylus ’ Persians , but also more generally from tragic style; tragic influence can also be detected in their ideas and in some of their motifs 48 . All this unmistakeably reveals Herodotus ’ creative hand. But it should not prevent us from detecting the central nucleus of the Persian tale behind the Herodotean creation. It is worth asking if Mardonios and Artabanos played the parts of the opposed counsellors already in the original tale, or if it was rather Herodotus who first assigned them to those roles. Of course, it is not to be excluded that the historical Mardonios actually belonged to those supporting the expedition and the historical Artabanos to those who had misgivings about it. At least for Mardonios, such an attitude seems quite probable, given that he had been the commander of a Persian expedition in Thrace and Macedonia in 492 BC, and that he later played a leading part in Xerxes ’ invasion, taking again command of the expeditionary force after the king ’s departure from Greece 49 . If so, then already Persian tradition could have employed those personages to represent the two opposite standpoints in the council story: they would probably have been chosen for the leading roles also because of their kinship with and proximity to Xerxes or their distinguished position in the royal entourage. In that case, we might suppose that the original Persian tale was fabricated by noblemen who were hostile to Mardonios and for this reason presented him as an immoderately ambitious and reckless man, ardently supporting an erroneous expedition and misleading the king with his bad advice 50 . However, we

47 For instance, Mardonios ’ censure of the thoughtless and disastrous manner, in which the Greeks wage war (VII 9, b), clearly echoes Herodotus ’ own views about Greek civil strife. Artabanos ’ words about the envy of God, who strikes all excelling things (VII 10, e), express distinctly Herodotean ideas and strongly recall other passages of Herodotus ’ work, e.g. the advice of Solon to Kroisos (I 32) and of Amasis to Polykrates (III 40). Xerxes ’ argument, that if the Persians do not invade Greece, the Greeks themselves will attack Persia (VII 11,2s.), could obviously be conceived only by someone who knew the later counter-attack of the Greeks in the time of Kimon. For all these and other such elements see How-Wells 1912, II 129-131; Regenbogen 1930, 237s.; Pohlenz 1937, 114-116, 120-125; Immerwahr 1954, 38s.; Reinhardt 1966, 171; von Fritz 1967, I.1 247s.; S. Benardete, Herodotean Inquiries , The Hague 1969, 185s.; Solmsen 1974, 144-150, 155s.; Masaracchia 1976, 55-60; H. Verdin, Hérodote et la politique expansioniste des Ach éménides. Notes sur Hdt. VII 8 , in J. Quaegebeur (ed.), «Studia Paulo Naster oblata », II. Orientalia antiqua , Leuven 1982, 330-336; Gould 1989, 78s.; van Ophuijsen-Stork 1999, 22, 41, 89, 118, 147; Mikalson 2003, 39s., 151, 160s. 48 See Pohlenz 1937, 116, 121, 124; Aly 1969, 165-168, 281s.; Solmsen 1974, 155s.; Chiasson 1979, 32-34, 68, 93-95; Bichler 1985, 140s.; van Ophuijsen-Stork 1999, 17, 27, 43, 114s.; Sa ïd 2002, 139s.; Mikalson 2003, 160, 206. 49 See Jacoby 1913, 445; Pohlenz 1937, 127; Legrand 1951, 20-22; Hignett 1963, 90s.; Solmsen 1974, 150. 50 So Briant (2002, 525s.), who points out that Mardonios may have acquired a bad repu- 240 KONSTANTAKOS must remember that we have no testimony independent of Herodotus as to the real opinions of Mardonios and Artabanos in the given historical circumstances. The attitude of each one of them in the council appears plausible and expected on the basis of what we learn about them in the rest of Herodotus ’ work; but Herodotus might equally well have conjectured himself their respective attitudes, on the basis of the general information he possessed about those two personages. For this reason, we cannot exclude that Herodotus was the first to cast Mardonios and Artabanos as the two contrasted advisers in his own adaptation. Perhaps in the Persian story these roles were assigned to other personages of Xerxes ’ entourage. Alternatively, they may have been originally assigned not to single individuals but to entire groups of courtiers or counsellors, just as happens in other Near Eastern stories based on the same pattern ( e.g. those of Bilgames/Gilgamesh and Rehoboam). As we saw, the confrontation of contrasted groups of counsellors was probably the earliest and most authentic form of this pattern in the Near East. The Persian narrators may well have followed that primary form in all its basic traits, thus presenting Xerxes framed by two opposite groups. On one side they would presumably show a group of encouraging young men, age-mates and possibly youth companions of Xerxes (just as in the story of Rehoboam one of the groups is made up by the king ’s companions, who have grown up with him); and on the other side they would oppose a group of more elderly dissuasive advisers, probably belonging to the generation of Dareios (as in the story of Rehoboam the elder counsellors are the courtiers of the king ’s dead father, Solomon). If this was more or less the original form, then it was Herodotus ’ idea to replace the two groups with specific individuals from Xerxes ’ entourage. For that purpose he needed one young companion of Xerxes and one senior nobleman of Dareios ’ generation: he must not have had much difficulty to discover them in the well-known personages of Mardonios and Artabanos, whom he was using also in other episodes of his narrative. Mardonios seemed all the more suited to the role of the warlike counsellor, because he had been twice commander of a Persian army invading Greece (see above). As for Artabanos, Herodotus may have chosen him for the cautious adviser ’s role because he knew that Xerxes had left Artabanos back in Persia, as regent, during his absence with the army in Greece (this is what Xerxes is shown doing in VII 52,2-53,1, and we may assume that Herodotus possessed relevant information). The man who remained behind at base, instead of following the army to the war, would appear suitable to represent the reserved, anti-war tation among the Persians. Legrand (1951, 20-22) suggests that Herodotus took the relevant information from a descendant of Artabanos, who would naturally look on Mardonios with an- tagonism and hostility. Jacoby (1913, 414s., 445s., cf. 465s.) speculates that the source of the story were the descendants of Artabazos the son of Pharnakes, who had disagreed with Mardonios over tactics at Plataiai (see Hdt. IX 41s., 66) and therefore had reason to paint a dreary picture of Mardonios. The Warlike and the Wary 241 stance 51 . In this way, Herodotus own story of VII 8-11 grew out of the original Persian tale 52 .

Athens I OANNIS M . K ONSTANTAKOS

51 For these criteria of choice see Waters 1985, 66s.; cf. Fehling 1989, 205. 52 It is worth noting that the story immediately following in Herodotus ’ narrative (VII 12- 18, about the dream that incites Xerxes to make the expedition) is a similar case. It too seems to have an Eastern, Persian core, as is suggested by many of its elements, which find striking parallels in Asiatic narratives or customs. For instance, when Artabanos wears Xerxes ’ clothes, sits on his throne and sleeps on his bed, in order to see the same dream, this echoes the Meso- potamian ritual of the ‘substitution of the king ’: when the king was threatened by bad omens, a substitute took his place, dressed in his clothes and sat on his throne for as long as the bad luck was supposed to last, so that the evil fall upon the substitute and the king escape. Sometimes the royal bed also played a part in such rites. The monarch was similarly replaced by a substitute in a ritual of magic that took place before the starting of a war, just as in Xerxes ’ case the substitution takes place before an expedition (for all this see G. Germain, Le songe de Xerx ès et le rite babylonien du substitut royal , «REG » LXIX, 1956, 303-313; von Fritz 1967, I.2 129-132; J. Bott éro, Mesopotamia. Writing, Reasoning, and the Gods , Chicago-London 1992, 138-155; Briant 2002, 526). The motifs of the dream inciting the king to an expedition and of the dreamer who springs up in waking (like Xerxes and Artabanos, VII 15,1, 18,1) are paralleled in Near Eastern texts (see P. Frisch, Die Tr äume bei Herodot , Meisenheim a.G. 1968, 14s., 55s., 58s.). The punishment threatened for Artabanos in the dream (to burn his eyes with hot irons) is a typically oriental one; and the figure of the large man, who appears in the dream, may actually be based on a daemon (a deva ) of the Persian religion. Of course, Herodotus has creatively reworked the Persian kernel and developed it with many Greek elements. On all this see Regenbogen 1930, 239s.; Pohlenz 1937, 127; Legrand 1951, 17s.; Immerwahr 1954, 34; Reinhardt 1966, 169, 171- 173; Solmsen 1974, 150-154; Masaracchia 1976, 61-68. It is noteworthy that Herodotus presents the tale as coming from the Persians (VII 12,1 wJ" levgetai uJpo; Persevwn ). So, it seems probable that this story too, like the immediately preceding one about Xerxes ’ council, is ultimately based on some Persian account, freely adapted by the historian. Herodotus must have heard that account from one of his Persia-related informants, whether a Persian or a Greek with Achaemenid connections (VII 12,1 need not imply direct receipt from a Persian; it only means that Herodotus had reason to believe in the Persian provenance of his information). Some scholars deny altogether a Persian core to the dream-story and claim that it is entirely Herodotus ’ own invention, because it presents many analogies to other episodes of the historian ’s narrative (see Bichler 1985, 127s., 140-145), or because it is strongly connected with a closely following story about another dream of Xerxes (VII 19), which seems to be a purely Greek creation (see A. K öhnken, Der dritte Traum des Xerxes bei Herodot , «Hermes » CXVI, 1988, 24-40, cf. Erbse 1992, 75s.). But these ap- proaches offer no explanation for the distinctly Eastern elements of the story. The connection of the story with what follows or its correspondences with other Herodotean episodes are definitely the result of Herodotus ’ creative narrative art; but they do not exclude that he used as ‘raw material ’ a given narrative nucleus of Persian provenance. 242 KONSTANTAKOS

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Abstract

In Hdt. VII 8-11 Xerxes holds a council to deliberate on the war against Greece; his young age- mate Mardonios encourages him to proceed with the invasion, while the older nobleman Artabanos warns him of its dangers and tries to dissuade him. This narrative pattern, in which a king is framed by two counsellors contrasted both in their opinions and in their age, is well-known in the ancient Near East: it underlies several Mesopotamian and Hebrew stories, while variants of it are traced also in Egyptian narratives and in a Persian legend of Sasanian or earlier times. It thus seems that Hdt. VII 8-11 has been formed, partly at least, from materials of ultimately Near Eastern provenance. In this article, it is suggested that the Herodotean episode originates in a Persian narrative, a fictionalized account of Xerxes ’ preparations for the Greek war, created in Achaemenid circles; this must have been transmitted to Herodotus from a Persian informant or a Greek intermediary with Achaemenid connections. Perhaps the opposed parties of the original story were a group of youth companions of the king and a body of elder counsellors (as in other Near Eastern narratives of this kind). If so, Herodotus himself must have replaced the groups with individual advisers, respectively Mardonios and Artabanos, selecting these particular personages on the basis of their roles in the rest of his narrative.