Oinos
A feast for tyrants
Four decades after the Getic wars of Alkimakhos, the Sikyoni playwright Dinias penned a work which is now recognized as his masterpiece, a tragedy commemorating the Hellenic King’s hubris and ambition. It is notable primarily for the absence of its main antagonist, Zalmodegikos, prince of the Getai, oft alluded to but never seen. The play, in many respects, is beyond its time in the artistry of its creation. Alkimakhos struts and frets across the stage, never coming to grips with what vexes him, denying the audience an easy resolution. Contemporary audiences often left unfulfilled, and the play itself was ultimately censured by the Makedonian authorities whose hegemony extended over Sikyon in those days. Despite this censure, Alexandros Eusebes, son of Krateros, was reportedly a fan, for he saw much of himself in the tragic protagonist. “Carrion,” the play famously begins, “is the foundation of arkhe, and blood runs through our roots.”
In 266, Attalos, onetime companion of Demetrios, and current chiliarch of the Antigonid-Argead Empire, invaded Makedon and swept across Hellas like a thunderbolt, bearing a heterogeneous army of free Hellenes, Makedonian veterans and eastern auxiliaries. His heavily-armored horse crushed the Makedonian Hetairoi at the Battle of Dion, leaving Eusebes and his household on the run. The capital of Pella was briefly abandoned and occupied by Attalos, although the Phakos, the city’s legendary citadel, did not fall and the city was devastated in the fighting. Combined with the gradual silting of the city’s harbor, Pella’s days were numbered. Nearby Therma was growing in prestige, a city with its own assembly and autonomy - and indeed it was briefly made the capital of Attalos’ briefly organized “satrapy.” After Attalos was chased back into Anatolia, Therma increasingly overshadowed Pella, becoming the “second city” of Makedon and by far the larger and wealthier.
The bloody fighting that had been necessary to secure Makedon for Alexandros Eusebes seemed all the more futile for the fact that Attalos had never truly been defeated. Without having ever lost a battle, he returned to Syria to assist his patron in other wars out East. Eusebes’ hollow victory meant also that he would have to war for a decade to return Hellas to his authority. No wonder, then, that he sympathized so much with a portrait of a fellow king obsessed with chasing spectres!
Alikmakhos for his part never did truly come to grips with Zalmodegikos. Thrakia was a rich country, situated on the trade routes that brought grain down from the Kimmerian Bosphoros and the rich country there. He was able to establish fortifications and lines of supply along the Istros, strike treaties with the Sauromatai, and ultimately occupy much of the region. His policies were brutal when necessary - for a time, slave-markets overflowed with the spoils of his conquests and his soldiers did not hesitate to burn when they conquered. With these brutal policies he hoped to drive Zalmodegikos into open battle, but the Getai King was wily and clever. He recognized that battle was a matter of discipline, and that the phalanx were nigh-unbreakable in a frontal assault. He similarly recognized that Alkimakhos could draw upon an entire world of experience - cavalry from Kappadokia, archers from Krete and Syria. His own men fought in looser formations, ideal for swinging the long falx or performing acts of personal bravery. The slow innovations which had led to the adoption of an imitation phalanx were too little too late - Zalmdegikos had seen the Getai phalanxes crushed on the fields of Kapidava. The Getai would abandon this manner of warfare entirely, retreating when they could to the high mountains and other safe places when the Makedonians arrived in numbers, and returning to attack only when they left garrisons and smaller companies in place. These ambushes of close-order Makedonian infantry in the winding mountain passes and untracked backcountry would take on scriptural significance in time, as the ethnic religion of the Getai-Dakai became more ordered.
While this history has often sought to compare and contrast the reactions of the Ioudaioi with those of the Dakai and Getai, in this instance it is perhaps more worthwhile to contrast. Many Ioudaioi lived in the diaspora, and their civilization was literate, cosmopolitan, and as ancient as any in the near east. While the Getai and Dakai had small but nevertheless present literate and subliterate classes within their society, and they certainly adopted influences from the broader Keltic and Iranian steppe societies around them, they were a society unto themselves, whereas more often than not, the far-flung Ioudaioi settlements were necessarily integrated with the surrounding world.
The Getai and Dakai society thus felt the influence of Hellenism as a direct threat, whereas the Ioudaioi, more integrated with the broader Oikoumene from the beginning, had no unified response to external influence. The Dakai society as a whole became mobilized against the Hellenes. The trope of the cannabis-intoxicated fanatic throwing himself onto enemy spears without pain is distinct to Hellenes in Makedonia and Thrakia, but it certainly represents a genuine fear among the veterans of the Getic wars - seeming madmen whose trancelike religious ecstasy compelled them to incredible acts of valour.
Few other societies could resist the blurring of boundaries and states that accompanied the expansion of the Oikoumene. Keltic society in Esperia certainly could not - although the resistance of the Dakai and Getai certainly provided an alternative model for civilization - one based on a synergetic blend of church and state - theocracy. Religious and temple states were not unknown to the Hellenic world - for example, the hill-country of Pontos was rife with cultic landholdings which functioned with no small degree of autonomy. Sacred and ritual places in the Hellenic Oikoumene often were imbued with political authority. The universities of Taxila had their own land and in times of crisis and natural disaster provided monetary contributions to the state. Religion and civic life were frequently blurred. To some degree, Hellenic historians exaggerated when they defined the Dakai religion as something without precedent.
However, they were also not wrong to see the Dakai as something unique. The Dakai religion had an element of salvation - a cosmic battle between light and dark, between life and the grave, between the earthy material world and scintillant transcendence. The dichotomy itself was ancient - present in Iranian religious philosophy and to some extent within certain Hellenic mystery cults. However, the society that would develop in Dakia was one that embraced this worldview to its uttermost extent. Religion could not be an element of life - it was life entire.
In no small way, this worldview was born out of the trauma of the third century crisis. The formative experience of Dakia as a nation was Alkimakhos’ invasion of the Getai, which swiftly passed into their own lands. Theirs was a society rebuilt out of an apocalyptic invasion. Small wonder then, that they should damn the world even as they made lives in it.
Wine
In Iberia’s mountain gravel, grapevines sometimes grew. Their produce was astonishing for its unique flavor - like cherries and woodsmoke. Along the coasts wine of another sort entirely was made - famed for its peculiar effervescence. The Libyan settlers who harvested it thought it was a lesser product than was produced in Esperia, although they loathed the thick reds that came from Hellas. Persia, it was well known, produced the best wines, but these were expensive - rare gifts from across the seas.
Alcohol was a part of life for the civilized people across the Mesogeios. It kept the water fresh and prevented disease. It was critical to religious ritual and social custom. Among the Hellenes, the symposium was often a place of public drunkenness. The Persians, it was said, would debate a topic drunkenly and then repeat the same arguments sober, to see if they might stand up to scrutiny. For the Makedonians, intemperance was a sign of masculinity, and kings were expected to engage in hedonistic drunkenness with their officers. Such excess, some said, doomed Alexandros to an early grave. Others accused intoxication of being the downfall of Antigonos Didymos, who was drunk (for cowardice, many said) at the Battle of Zeugma.
Among the wine-drinking cultures of the Mesogeios, not drinking wine was a sign of barbarism. Such was true of the Libyans and Hellenes who settled Iberia and found wine already cultivated en masse among the indigenous Iberians. Their urbanism and sophistication impressed the Libyan settlers and facilitated a degree of assimilation which was simply impossible with the Keltiberian peoples of the interior, who resisted any encroachment upon their territory with violence. In time, the peninsula would essentially be divided - split between Karkhedon’s overseas arkhe and the confederal opposition provided by the Keltiberians and some isolated peoples on the western coast.
Adonibas, the son of Asdrubas, was reputedly a drunkard, a trait that endeared him to the men under his command during the campaigns of 293-291, and particularly to the Makedonian Amyntas, who was his second-in-command. A decade later, with Asdrubas dying of a fever and Ekuangnalos, elected Keltiberian King, on the warpath once more, the Assembly of Karkhedon decided it could not simply sit back and allow matters in Karabon to progress without interference. Adonibas was considered something of an easily manipulated lout and a drunk besides. Even if he had been a competent commander, the idea of allowing the son of a general to take power over his father’s forces was disturbing to the Assembly. They didn’t mind soldiers taking kingly prerogatives abroad, but this was a bridge too far. Besides, Iberia was rich, and tariffs on trade with the region were a not insubstantial portion of Karkhedon’s income.
Dispatching Maharabas, a veteran of the Sikelian Wars, seemed a prudent move. He was well connected and had familial ties to Annon. His arrival in New Karkhedon was thus a provocation only to the intended target - Adonibas.
Adonibas for his part, was torn. His army was primarily mercenary in nature - Libyans and Hellenes who had been settled in Iberia after the first Sikelian war. He could rebel if he wished, and perhaps carve out an independent polity for himself. But he was smart enough to know that the Phoenicians who made up the bulk of his administrative apparatus would never go along with such a plan. It is said that he did not long contemplate resistance. When Maharabas marched north to secure Karabon, Adonibas graciously “resigned” from his post (that was not his to resign). There was simply no other choice.
Politics in Karkhedon in those days were evidently remarkably civilized. Adonibas retired to a life of farming on the vast estates his family had carved out. There he was able to cultivate a substantial wine and olive trade near the Libyan colony of Harbizatia [Har biZayet], a city whose governorship he would attain later in life. This trajectory is typical of the landed gentry and the soldierly class of the time. Africa offered few opportunities for this new generation of landed men divorced from their home and capital. To return there was to come under the direct rule of the Assembly and the Sophetes. The system at home was stable and solid, but it did not provide for much opportunity. Karkhedon’s conquest of the hinterlands of Africa in the past centuries had left them in dire need of an outlet - and overseas territory provided just that.
The estates established across Iberia would have been distinct and yet recognizable to the Makedonians building their own colonial cities across the Near East. Urbanism developed more slowly in Iberia than it did across the Near East - in no small part because it was built on weaker foundations. The peoples of Iberia had their own cities, but these were small and their organization was limited and ad hoc. So too were the colonial establishments from North Africa - they lacked the sort of formalized systems the Hellenes imposed on their own urban foundations. Trade towns developed organically, spurred on by investment rather than royal authority. These emporia were still akin to the traditional Greek model, not the more novel style of the self-aggrandizing Diadokhoi monarchs. The Karkhedoi did not name their towns after monarchs, and did not promote settlement with any degree of zeal. Soldiers might retire to spear-won farmland, but this was never a true policy, executed on a grand scale. Land ownership patterns across Iberia evolved slowly and without any decisiveness.
The Karkhedoi conquest of Iberia was meteoric by many standards - nearly half a peninsula brought to heel where once the great city had relied on allies and tributaries to enforce order along a narrow band of coastline. However, little changed on the ground. The old tribal orders, the old systems, all essentially remained intact.
It is often said that Keltiberia, situated in the heart of the peninsula and unwilling to cede their mountain passes and strongholds from which they had sent so many proud armies fleeing in terror, was undone by wine. The merchants of Karkhedon set upon them not with swords but with promises of heavy amphorae full of intoxicating drink. Such a narrative aligns more with classical tropes than reality. The development and spread of wine had already reached Keltiberia long before the coming of the Karkhedoi - and Maharbas was more than willing to wage wars.
Four decades after the Getic wars of Alkimakhos, the Sikyoni playwright Dinias penned a work which is now recognized as his masterpiece, a tragedy commemorating the Hellenic King’s hubris and ambition. It is notable primarily for the absence of its main antagonist, Zalmodegikos, prince of the Getai, oft alluded to but never seen. The play, in many respects, is beyond its time in the artistry of its creation. Alkimakhos struts and frets across the stage, never coming to grips with what vexes him, denying the audience an easy resolution. Contemporary audiences often left unfulfilled, and the play itself was ultimately censured by the Makedonian authorities whose hegemony extended over Sikyon in those days. Despite this censure, Alexandros Eusebes, son of Krateros, was reportedly a fan, for he saw much of himself in the tragic protagonist. “Carrion,” the play famously begins, “is the foundation of arkhe, and blood runs through our roots.”
In 266, Attalos, onetime companion of Demetrios, and current chiliarch of the Antigonid-Argead Empire, invaded Makedon and swept across Hellas like a thunderbolt, bearing a heterogeneous army of free Hellenes, Makedonian veterans and eastern auxiliaries. His heavily-armored horse crushed the Makedonian Hetairoi at the Battle of Dion, leaving Eusebes and his household on the run. The capital of Pella was briefly abandoned and occupied by Attalos, although the Phakos, the city’s legendary citadel, did not fall and the city was devastated in the fighting. Combined with the gradual silting of the city’s harbor, Pella’s days were numbered. Nearby Therma was growing in prestige, a city with its own assembly and autonomy - and indeed it was briefly made the capital of Attalos’ briefly organized “satrapy.” After Attalos was chased back into Anatolia, Therma increasingly overshadowed Pella, becoming the “second city” of Makedon and by far the larger and wealthier.
The bloody fighting that had been necessary to secure Makedon for Alexandros Eusebes seemed all the more futile for the fact that Attalos had never truly been defeated. Without having ever lost a battle, he returned to Syria to assist his patron in other wars out East. Eusebes’ hollow victory meant also that he would have to war for a decade to return Hellas to his authority. No wonder, then, that he sympathized so much with a portrait of a fellow king obsessed with chasing spectres!
Alikmakhos for his part never did truly come to grips with Zalmodegikos. Thrakia was a rich country, situated on the trade routes that brought grain down from the Kimmerian Bosphoros and the rich country there. He was able to establish fortifications and lines of supply along the Istros, strike treaties with the Sauromatai, and ultimately occupy much of the region. His policies were brutal when necessary - for a time, slave-markets overflowed with the spoils of his conquests and his soldiers did not hesitate to burn when they conquered. With these brutal policies he hoped to drive Zalmodegikos into open battle, but the Getai King was wily and clever. He recognized that battle was a matter of discipline, and that the phalanx were nigh-unbreakable in a frontal assault. He similarly recognized that Alkimakhos could draw upon an entire world of experience - cavalry from Kappadokia, archers from Krete and Syria. His own men fought in looser formations, ideal for swinging the long falx or performing acts of personal bravery. The slow innovations which had led to the adoption of an imitation phalanx were too little too late - Zalmdegikos had seen the Getai phalanxes crushed on the fields of Kapidava. The Getai would abandon this manner of warfare entirely, retreating when they could to the high mountains and other safe places when the Makedonians arrived in numbers, and returning to attack only when they left garrisons and smaller companies in place. These ambushes of close-order Makedonian infantry in the winding mountain passes and untracked backcountry would take on scriptural significance in time, as the ethnic religion of the Getai-Dakai became more ordered.
While this history has often sought to compare and contrast the reactions of the Ioudaioi with those of the Dakai and Getai, in this instance it is perhaps more worthwhile to contrast. Many Ioudaioi lived in the diaspora, and their civilization was literate, cosmopolitan, and as ancient as any in the near east. While the Getai and Dakai had small but nevertheless present literate and subliterate classes within their society, and they certainly adopted influences from the broader Keltic and Iranian steppe societies around them, they were a society unto themselves, whereas more often than not, the far-flung Ioudaioi settlements were necessarily integrated with the surrounding world.
The Getai and Dakai society thus felt the influence of Hellenism as a direct threat, whereas the Ioudaioi, more integrated with the broader Oikoumene from the beginning, had no unified response to external influence. The Dakai society as a whole became mobilized against the Hellenes. The trope of the cannabis-intoxicated fanatic throwing himself onto enemy spears without pain is distinct to Hellenes in Makedonia and Thrakia, but it certainly represents a genuine fear among the veterans of the Getic wars - seeming madmen whose trancelike religious ecstasy compelled them to incredible acts of valour.
Few other societies could resist the blurring of boundaries and states that accompanied the expansion of the Oikoumene. Keltic society in Esperia certainly could not - although the resistance of the Dakai and Getai certainly provided an alternative model for civilization - one based on a synergetic blend of church and state - theocracy. Religious and temple states were not unknown to the Hellenic world - for example, the hill-country of Pontos was rife with cultic landholdings which functioned with no small degree of autonomy. Sacred and ritual places in the Hellenic Oikoumene often were imbued with political authority. The universities of Taxila had their own land and in times of crisis and natural disaster provided monetary contributions to the state. Religion and civic life were frequently blurred. To some degree, Hellenic historians exaggerated when they defined the Dakai religion as something without precedent.
However, they were also not wrong to see the Dakai as something unique. The Dakai religion had an element of salvation - a cosmic battle between light and dark, between life and the grave, between the earthy material world and scintillant transcendence. The dichotomy itself was ancient - present in Iranian religious philosophy and to some extent within certain Hellenic mystery cults. However, the society that would develop in Dakia was one that embraced this worldview to its uttermost extent. Religion could not be an element of life - it was life entire.
In no small way, this worldview was born out of the trauma of the third century crisis. The formative experience of Dakia as a nation was Alkimakhos’ invasion of the Getai, which swiftly passed into their own lands. Theirs was a society rebuilt out of an apocalyptic invasion. Small wonder then, that they should damn the world even as they made lives in it.
Wine
In Iberia’s mountain gravel, grapevines sometimes grew. Their produce was astonishing for its unique flavor - like cherries and woodsmoke. Along the coasts wine of another sort entirely was made - famed for its peculiar effervescence. The Libyan settlers who harvested it thought it was a lesser product than was produced in Esperia, although they loathed the thick reds that came from Hellas. Persia, it was well known, produced the best wines, but these were expensive - rare gifts from across the seas.
Alcohol was a part of life for the civilized people across the Mesogeios. It kept the water fresh and prevented disease. It was critical to religious ritual and social custom. Among the Hellenes, the symposium was often a place of public drunkenness. The Persians, it was said, would debate a topic drunkenly and then repeat the same arguments sober, to see if they might stand up to scrutiny. For the Makedonians, intemperance was a sign of masculinity, and kings were expected to engage in hedonistic drunkenness with their officers. Such excess, some said, doomed Alexandros to an early grave. Others accused intoxication of being the downfall of Antigonos Didymos, who was drunk (for cowardice, many said) at the Battle of Zeugma.
Among the wine-drinking cultures of the Mesogeios, not drinking wine was a sign of barbarism. Such was true of the Libyans and Hellenes who settled Iberia and found wine already cultivated en masse among the indigenous Iberians. Their urbanism and sophistication impressed the Libyan settlers and facilitated a degree of assimilation which was simply impossible with the Keltiberian peoples of the interior, who resisted any encroachment upon their territory with violence. In time, the peninsula would essentially be divided - split between Karkhedon’s overseas arkhe and the confederal opposition provided by the Keltiberians and some isolated peoples on the western coast.
Adonibas, the son of Asdrubas, was reputedly a drunkard, a trait that endeared him to the men under his command during the campaigns of 293-291, and particularly to the Makedonian Amyntas, who was his second-in-command. A decade later, with Asdrubas dying of a fever and Ekuangnalos, elected Keltiberian King, on the warpath once more, the Assembly of Karkhedon decided it could not simply sit back and allow matters in Karabon to progress without interference. Adonibas was considered something of an easily manipulated lout and a drunk besides. Even if he had been a competent commander, the idea of allowing the son of a general to take power over his father’s forces was disturbing to the Assembly. They didn’t mind soldiers taking kingly prerogatives abroad, but this was a bridge too far. Besides, Iberia was rich, and tariffs on trade with the region were a not insubstantial portion of Karkhedon’s income.
Dispatching Maharabas, a veteran of the Sikelian Wars, seemed a prudent move. He was well connected and had familial ties to Annon. His arrival in New Karkhedon was thus a provocation only to the intended target - Adonibas.
Adonibas for his part, was torn. His army was primarily mercenary in nature - Libyans and Hellenes who had been settled in Iberia after the first Sikelian war. He could rebel if he wished, and perhaps carve out an independent polity for himself. But he was smart enough to know that the Phoenicians who made up the bulk of his administrative apparatus would never go along with such a plan. It is said that he did not long contemplate resistance. When Maharabas marched north to secure Karabon, Adonibas graciously “resigned” from his post (that was not his to resign). There was simply no other choice.
Politics in Karkhedon in those days were evidently remarkably civilized. Adonibas retired to a life of farming on the vast estates his family had carved out. There he was able to cultivate a substantial wine and olive trade near the Libyan colony of Harbizatia [Har biZayet], a city whose governorship he would attain later in life. This trajectory is typical of the landed gentry and the soldierly class of the time. Africa offered few opportunities for this new generation of landed men divorced from their home and capital. To return there was to come under the direct rule of the Assembly and the Sophetes. The system at home was stable and solid, but it did not provide for much opportunity. Karkhedon’s conquest of the hinterlands of Africa in the past centuries had left them in dire need of an outlet - and overseas territory provided just that.
The estates established across Iberia would have been distinct and yet recognizable to the Makedonians building their own colonial cities across the Near East. Urbanism developed more slowly in Iberia than it did across the Near East - in no small part because it was built on weaker foundations. The peoples of Iberia had their own cities, but these were small and their organization was limited and ad hoc. So too were the colonial establishments from North Africa - they lacked the sort of formalized systems the Hellenes imposed on their own urban foundations. Trade towns developed organically, spurred on by investment rather than royal authority. These emporia were still akin to the traditional Greek model, not the more novel style of the self-aggrandizing Diadokhoi monarchs. The Karkhedoi did not name their towns after monarchs, and did not promote settlement with any degree of zeal. Soldiers might retire to spear-won farmland, but this was never a true policy, executed on a grand scale. Land ownership patterns across Iberia evolved slowly and without any decisiveness.
The Karkhedoi conquest of Iberia was meteoric by many standards - nearly half a peninsula brought to heel where once the great city had relied on allies and tributaries to enforce order along a narrow band of coastline. However, little changed on the ground. The old tribal orders, the old systems, all essentially remained intact.
It is often said that Keltiberia, situated in the heart of the peninsula and unwilling to cede their mountain passes and strongholds from which they had sent so many proud armies fleeing in terror, was undone by wine. The merchants of Karkhedon set upon them not with swords but with promises of heavy amphorae full of intoxicating drink. Such a narrative aligns more with classical tropes than reality. The development and spread of wine had already reached Keltiberia long before the coming of the Karkhedoi - and Maharbas was more than willing to wage wars.