On the Zeitgeist of the Age of Alexander

·       On the Motives of Alexander the Great

  When one reflects upon the annals of history, and the storied heritage of our collective civilization, whether it be of our institutions, traditions, inquiries, ventures, or herculean feats, it has been an archetypal axiom within the realm of history that few dimensions acquire a greater allure than the achievements of great men. For since the dawn of civilization, it has been an axiomatic verity of humanity that we seek to emulate, and pay tribute to those whose feats and efforts have shaped the world we live in today, whether it be in the grand, mystifying manner of conquerors, or the nuanced, everyday manner of inventors, philosophers, and polymaths. However, few men have exemplified this allure and this characteristic better than Alexander the Great – who has, since his demise in 323 BCE – been an archetypal figure whose legacy and feats have stood atop a domineering altar of history – as perhaps the most famous name in all antiquity.

Despite this overarching legacy, and the widespread accessibility of knowledge regarding the conquests and actions of Alexander, it is far more difficult – yet arguably more fruitful in understanding the mindset and achievements of historical titans – to ascertain a precise pinpoint upon the motives of Alexander, throughout his life and conquests from a psychological standpoint, in order to understand and internalize the mental concepts and conflict that eventually would birth and foster the Hellenistic Era altogether. Although some may contend otherwise, that Alexander had been in absolute devotion to a mythical ideal, a duty to his countrymen, or a longstanding familial conflict; it is with utmost alacrity that I assert the fundamental claim that Alexander’s motives were myriad and multifaceted, and not only were they varied, but they continued to evolve along with him, becoming more intrinsically linked to ideals of grandeur, as he progressed throughout his conquests of the known world. With regard to the motives of Alexander upon his very ascension to the throne, it is likely that it was predominantly a continuation of the motives of his father; Philip II, to liberate the Greek cities on the Ionian Coast from Persian rule in order to unite the Greeks under one hegemon, as a sort of antediluvian predecessor to the concept of palingenesis and an ancient equivalent of what we today would consider Modern Nationalism. This sentiment has been expressed through all official writings and court transcripts of the dialogues and edicts of Philip II, alongside the official decrees of Alexander upon his ascension to the throne, with the intention to liberate the Ionian Coast and potentially Asia Minor from the yoke of the Achaemenids.

    Concerning any further intentions beyond Ionian Liberation, prior to the Campaign, it is perhaps a possibility that Alexander had slight, undeveloped dreams of grandeur linked in part to his internal veneration of mythology (which we must understand, at least in the eyes of the Greeks at the time of Alexander; was viewed as far more interconnected with tangible history, and given the chronological proximity between Alexander and the legends of events like the Iliad, there was a sense of heritage and ancestral legacy in these events we now consider semi-legendary), or familial complexes regarding his own relationship with Philip and feelings of insecurity (as recorded and in no doubt spurred on by his mother, Olympias, who had immense impact upon Alexander’s formative years, especially during the brief exile of Alexander and Olympias to Epirus following Philip’s marriage to Cleopatra Eurydice). However, concepts of any conquests beyond Ionia were never expressed nor externally prevalent for Alexander beforehand. Moreover, sentiments in this nature were highly unlikely to have been in the thought process of Philip II, who seemingly expressed no desire to conquer all of Persia (despite the fact that he definitely possessed the ability to do so, likely more effectively than Alexander, had he lived long enough and chosen to proceed).

   This sentiment apparently lingered throughout the early reign of Alexander, as senior generals and officials under Philip expressed a pragmatic hesitancy to further advancement past Asia Minor, as exemplified by the persistent advice of Parmenion and other senior advisors to Alexander. However, Alexander’s motive inherited from his father to liberate the Ionian Coast seemed to have metamorphosized especially after early victories at Granicus, and his visits to several Ionian sites – including the ruins of Troy – where Alexander seemingly paid homage to his purported ancestors, and his connection to the legendary Homeric heroes grew further and fueled him to progress. As much of Asia Minor was seemingly jubilant to be under Macedonian rule following decades of instability under the Achaemenids, it became fairly easy and obvious for Alexander to proceed, yet at this point, I would contend that a new goal in Alexander’s mind emerged, uniquely distinct from perceptions of godliness, or the goals of Ionian Liberation and avenging the Sacking of Greek temples – that is a psychological desire to differentiate his identity and legacy from a merely coincidental continuation of his father, and to almost outperform his father’s feats, legacy, and character in the eyes of his army.

  This psychological complex of mental father-son competition between Alexander and Philip has not only been prevalent throughout the history of humanity, but has also been prototypical of Alexander’s own character and increasingly erratic behavior near the end of his campaign, which was repeatedly fueled by several of his confidants drawing comparisons between him and his father, and claiming a mental and ethical superiority in the latter; as demonstrated by the statements of Cleitus preceding his murder, the conspiracy surrounding Philotas and the claims made by accused conspirators of Alexanders faults as opposed to the principle of Philip, etc. This sentiment’s psychological impact upon Alexander can be viewed not only through his increasing allusion to grandeur and feats worthy of deification but was excellently explicated through his Eulogy of Philip following the mutiny at Opis, in which he repeatedly addressed his father’s achievements and attempted to dwarf them in comparison to his own, a prime example of this complex, stating; “Such were the achievements of my father on your behalf; as you can see for yourselves, they are great, and yet small in comparison with my own”. It is irrefutable that (as I have addressed before), this mental conflict only served to exacerbate his megalomania throughout his campaign, which, as demonstrated in his vernacular, behavioral manifestation, and continuous desires, I believe was fueled and motivated through this father-son conflict and fundamental feelings of inadequacy in Alexander’s mind, and a desire to complete his father’s works, and to both honor and exceed his legacy.

    Ultimately, this complex resulted in a steadfast desire to conquer and subdue the old enemy of the Greek people (Persia, which, it could be argued, was the most recent incarnation of the almost mythical conflict between Greeks and Persians/Trojans/Asian Peoples), before later – as his troops grew wearier and drew further comparisons between Alexander and his father – the entire world. Alexander externally manifested this complex, I would assert, through the repeated deification of himself in rhetoric, which by the end of his campaign, he may have even grown to believe in, wanting not only to outdo his father, but the legendary deeds of Hercules and Dionysus. For, in conclusion, Alexander was motivated by a plentitude of factors, cultural duty, liberation, legacy: yet he was increasingly driven predominantly by a psychological competition and desire to live up to his own father’s deeds and character – ultimately surpassing the former but faltering in the latter. For Philip of Macedon was placed first among the pantheon of Man – thus it was only natural that Alexander would strive to place himself amongst the gods, as a prototypical example to a psychological battle that has characterized the lives and struggles of a great many historical figures, the psychological relationship of the father and the son. Whether it be between Philip and Alexander, Marcus Aurelius and Commodus, Henry II and Richard the Lionheart, or George H.W. Bush and George W. Bush, the father-son complex for better or worse has driven the march of history, and has characterized the lives, times, and motivations of a great many historical figures whose names and deeds shall echo onward throughout the millennia.

·       On the Rhetorical and Ideological Strategy of Alexander

  When one reflects upon the annals of history and the innumerable realms of thought, contemplation, and strategy that have been devised by man throughout the millennia, it can serve as an almost humbling experience, to marvel at the spectacle of collective human brilliance. However, in few arts is this veracity more effectively – albeit unfortunately – demonstrated than in the Art of War and Conquest, in which few names stand out greater in this department than Alexander the Great. Alexander was not only blessed with many of the cornerstones of a triumphant army; inheriting his father’s technologically superior army, a well-staffed entourage of decorated generals, confidence, and a demoralized, unstable, declining opponent, etc. But he also understood one of the most fundamental axioms of warfare throughout history, and was able to therefore master the art unlike anybody in antiquity – that War is Won in the minds of her participants just as much as it is won on the battlefield. For it was Alexander’s understanding and internalization of this concept, that war was a battle of rhetoric, ideology, and morale, as much as it was a battle of swords, spears, and phalanx’, enabled his army to be steadfast in their devotion, loyalty, and continued promise that ultimately helped propel the Greeks to victory, and a cultural hegemony over the entire known world for centuries after his death. First and foremost, Alexander’s understanding of rhetoric to provide ideological legitimacy was undoubtedly a learned trait from two of the most impactful figures of not only Alexander’s youth, but arguably the history of the Greeks up until that point – Aristotle and Philip II. The former, as Alexander’s childhood tutor, imparted upon Alexander a comprehensive understanding not only of the arts and sciences but the art of politics and the kingship that he was designated to one day possess.

Within this, Alexander was taught not only the Greek world’s very best in strategic knowledge but also the rhetorical devices – which from an intellectual standpoint greatly benefited Alexander in theoretical knowledge surrounding rhetoric – which – as demonstrated in his mannerisms and recorded speeches, were tangibly implemented on a regular basis. With regard to the latter, Alexander’s father Philip imparted upon him a unique practical understanding of the art of ideological persuasion and inspiration in practice, in order to not only become the first-ever hegemon of a united Greek Nation-State but to enthusiastically rally the Macedonians from a state on the brink of collapse at the beginning of his reign, to a world power on the fast track to dethroning the Persians by his end in 336 BCE. From Philip, Alexander grew to internalize the importance of appealing to the cultural, religious, ethnic, and sentimental values of the Greek populace and his army, alongside assuaging the concerns of newly conquered people, and masterfully inspiring a sense of hope and pride that rallied the populace, but one that would by his own hand spell his downfall.

   Upon the ascension to the throne, the first ideological virtue that Alexander knew he had to establish was a sense of imperial, monarchical legitimacy within a society that had grown centered around the hegemony of Philip and his Argead predecessors. Therefore, Alexander served to not only assuage these concerns by immediately being crowned king after his fathers’ assassination, alongside the elimination of potential pretenders, but also by successfully and swiftly inheriting his father’s ideological standpoint as Hegemon of the Greeks and the League of Corinth, and as the arbiter of the grand plan to liberate the Greek cities on the Ionian Coast, and to avenge the sacking of the Athenian temples committed during the Greco-Persian Wars – thereby appealing not only to a traditional hierarchical sense of legitimacy, but a cultural, ethnic legitimacy. Due to this increased sense of ideological solidarity amongst all the Greeks under Alexander, city-states such as Athens, which had traditionally been postured as vehement opponents of Philippic expansion, embraced the rule and rhetoric of Alexander, as a unifying agenda that invigorated the Greek populace by and large following nearly a century of unobstructed warfare, and the assassination of the first unifying leader of the Greeks. Beyond this initial appeal to regal legitimacy and cultural identity, Alexander was a master at understanding the world he grew up around, and the customs that moved a great many of the highly superstitious, devout men of the day; most of all sacred rites, rituals, and religious tributes. For Alexander understood that perhaps the most consistently venerated center of legitimacy within the entire Panhellenic world was the Oracle of Delphi – whose’ oracles served as direct intermediaries to the Pantheon of Gods.

  Alexander, although by many accounts not a deeply religious man in his youth, and in character and action often disregarding certain rites – understood that given the nature of Greek society, homage was quintessential, and for the army to feel confident in the prospects of an Asian campaign, a positive foretelling from Delphi would be imperative. Therefore, when Alexander visited Delphi, he ensured that he would leave with the archetypal guarantee of success in his conquests – albeit through means that may to the modern observer seem bizarre and even distasteful – yet I think is quintessential when attempting to gauge not only the psyche of Alexander’s men but of the man himself. For, when Alexander initially visited Delphi, the oracle had initially informed him that she could not foretell the will of the Gods on that day, and he would have to return another time: a deeply disappointing answer to the newly anointed king. Alexander, in response, after some back and forth, eventually grabbed the oracle by the hair (an unprecedented act of brute force towards the Oracle of Delphi), dragged her in the temple, and for lack of a better vernacular forced her into ‘delivering the will of the gods’, to which, she decreed that Alexander could not be stopped by any army on earth (potentially due to the fact that he had just dragged and forced her to deliver a prophecy through brute force, which I like to imagine, continued as she delivered her foretelling while still being held by the hair). Now, although peculiar to the external eye, this foretelling provided a great deal of confidence and legitimacy to the prospects of the Asian Campaign, and this, alongside continuous religious rituals throughout the conquest, kept a sense of divinity and trust behind Alexander’s leadership and further conquests which stretched far beyond the initial calibrations.

    Furthermore, beyond assuring his own army of divine providence being on their side, he also utilized a fairly prevalent mechanism of populist-ethos that nearly every great general throughout history; whether it be Hannibal, Scipio, Augustus, Khalid-Ibn Walid, Genghis Khan, Washington, Grant, or Napoleon (at least in his early years), utilized to ensure the morale of his soldiers, sleeping with them, eating like them, marching alongside them, and leading the charge of the Macedonian Army into battle. It was this proximity to the soldiers and the ‘first among equals’ style of command (at least before he went full megalomaniac demigod) that rendered Alexander heavily endearing to his soldiers akin to his father, as not only their kind but a true warrior first in merit, strategy, virility, and skill. It is this, alongside his widespread willingness to distribute ascertained riches amongst his men that continuously ensured him loyalty throughout the campaign, and it was the gradual erosion of these venerable qualities that in large part served to dismantle his favorability over time amongst his followers. Beyond the ideological and rhetorical appeals that Alexander mechanized for his own army and the Macedonian people, he also understood how to strategically attend to the needs and desires of his newly conquered subjects, in part due to the widespread implementation of a rhetorical strategy of popular liberation from a corrupt, unstable Persian administration.

   Beyond this, Alexander also attracted the devout following of foreign religious denominations such as the Egyptians by tending to their own traditions and beliefs, for instance – when following his liberation of Egypt, the Egyptian populace (in part due to longstanding feelings of resentment towards the Persians), hailed Alexander as a god – he embraced the persona and gradually, as time went on throughout his conquests – he increasingly sought to intertwine himself not only as a follower of the religious rites, but as a cornerstone of the religious pantheon altogether (something that undoubtedly alienated him among some of his more traditional followers). Lastly, in order to present a greater sense of allure and ideological syncretism with some of his newly integrated Persian and Far Eastern subjects, Alexander not only sought to integrate his newly vanquished foes into the administrative hierarchy of the empire (in a similar fashion to that of his Achaemenid predecessors), but he also adopted various Oriental customs in order to more effectively appeal to these new sectors of the population who made up an administrative and overall majority of Alexander’s domains. This latter aspect would ultimately serve to backfire upon Alexander and ignite the rage of a great many Macedonian cultural traditionalists who felt not only betrayed but that their very identity was at risk, something that ultimately culminated with the Mutiny at Opis in 323 BCE. Ultimately, in conclusion, when one looks back upon the meteoric rise, and the climacteric fall of Alexander; it was rhetoric and a unique sense of ideological finesse that allowed for Alexander to truly become the great, yet it was this blatant appeal to who desires of the masses and to sectarian identity that, when left unchecked neither by Alexander nor the people around him, that ultimately stopped him dead in his tracks – and shortly thereafter, Alexander passed away at the age of 32 in 323 BCE, and as he died, the dream of a noble, unified Empire, and the concert of nations under one rule would unfortunately (as we shall see) die along with him.

·       On the Diadochi Wars and Claims of Successorship

   Babylon – 323 BCE, within the hallowed walls of a timeless city that has played host to innumerable guests throughout the ages, a band of approximately three dozen foreigners lay present within the palace of the old Babylonian King Nebuchadnezzar II – whose name echoes on through biblical texts and legends of the Hanging Gardens – weary, and anxious. However, despite the palace walls echoing with the allure of centuries gone by, these men are not gathered to revel in the glory of the millennia. Rather, they stand, bearing witness to their king and leader, who in the eyes of some is still a young man, and yet he is on his deathbed, withered and ill. Many questions are asked of the King before he passes away on a warm June Night: for it were these inquiries, these questions that occupied the final thoughts and words of this great King, who had for an heir, but an incapable, feeble brother-in-law, and an unborn son – was asked who his successor ought to be. His response, legend has it, was short and simple, yet it would echo onwards in blood for decades after –  “Krateroi” – ‘To the Strongest’.

For this, was the death of antiquities greatest conqueror: this, was the death of Alexander. It was in the midst of this rather peculiar situation, that which Alexander’s newly conquered empire, comprising over two million square miles, and roughly 30,000,000 inhabitants from Greece to India, was left in following his demise – fairly decentralized, conquered primarily in name only, lacking an official heir or a stable administrative hierarchy, and in the guardianship of three-dozen Generals and other high-ranking military officers. These men; who were forged in a world of ‘Might Makes Right’, and a Macedonian court culture that had either been intrinsically centered upon a singular, monarchical leader, or absolute chaos – would attempt to stabilize the Empire and chart a course forward through the stormy sea of executive instability, yet in the process would wage consecutive war with one another for roughly four decades until stability would once again make acquaintance with the known world. Today, it shall be our objective to gauge the causes of the Wars of the Diadochi (the successor wars), alongside understanding the subsequent course of events that allowed for the bloody transition into the Hellenistic Era to occur.

   Firstly, it is worth understanding that the methodisms for which we utilize to understand the Wars of the Diadochi in a modern sense can be highly confusing, and were not actually used by the Ancients themselves, rather, labels such as the Partition of Babylon, Third War of the Diadochi, etc. Rather, these names were bestowed upon the ages by scholars centuries afterward in order to efficiently categorize the ebbs and flows of two-generations worth of intercontinental conflict, the likes of which have maybe been seen once or twice elsewhere throughout all of recorded history (Three Kingdom Wars, Post-Mongol Conflicts). However, for convenience's sake, they ought to be utilized, for they provide a sense of order in an otherwise chaotic period of Ancient history: and therefore, the Wars of the Diadochi can primarily be split into the First, Second, Third, and Fourth War of the Diadochi between 321-319 BCE, 318-316 BCE, 315-311 BCE, and 301 BCE respectively; with additional minor conflict occurring in and around these dates.

The First of the Wars of the Diadochi broke out shortly after the Partition of Babylon, due to the rise of seemingly inevitable complications between Perdicass – Alexander’s former second-in-command and newly established regent for the Co-Kings – Alexander’s mentally incompetent half-brother (Philip III), and his infant son (Alexander IV) – of the Empire, and several of his regional subsidiaries, however first it is paramount to establish context via returning to the Partition of Babylon. Shortly after the death of Alexander, in the Summer of 323 BCE, dozens of high-ranking Generals, Bodyguards, Cavalrymen, commanders, Confidants, and lead officials in Alexander’s Empire and close circle all convened to discuss the terms and future arrangements of the Empire, in which, it was decided as a compromise between the various factions of the Army that a Co-Monarchy was to be established between Philip III and Alexander IV, yet since both of which were incapable of exercising any real administrative power, Perdicass as Alexander’s second-in-command, and temporary head of the army, became regent and the de facto ruler of the Empire from Babylon, meanwhile the administrative and federal powers of the empire were distributed into over two-dozen realms of influence, in the form of Provinces, to be governed by the various other ‘Diadochi’ as Satraps (or Governors), who would, for the most part, be left to their own devices in their respective spheres of influence.

   Now, beyond the fact that the Partition of Babylon almost seems to be in its very essence anticipating for somebody among the Diadochi to make a power grab or for somebody to step into the shoes of strong leadership (with everybody wanting to enter that role), which we shall address as a fundamental flaw later on. However, as it so happened, the Partition of Babylon served not to evade conflict amongst the Generals, but rather to slightly postpone it, for not even a year after the agreement had been ratified, tension had begun to brew among the various Diadochi. Firstly, there had been a generally shared concern that Perdicass was gradually seeking to accumulate power to become himself the sole ruler of the Empire. Moreover, conflict had been brewing between Perdicass and Antipater – the widely respected, elderly Satrap of Macedonia and most of Dorian Greece, who had been regent of Greece alongside Alexander’s mother during his campaigns, and now governed the region with the aid and fellowship of Krateros, another senior general – over a botched arranged marriage plan, when Perdicass elected to marry Alexander’s sister as opposed to Antipater’s daughter, an act that gravely offended Antipater and ultimately fanned the flames of war.

War, however, would ultimately break out regarding the Body of Alexander, for Perdicass desired to intern the late King’s body in Aegae alongside the former Kings of Macedon, yet his plan was foiled when Ptolemy – a childhood friend and close confidant of Alexander turned Satrap of Egypt – stole the body of Alexander to have it brought to Alexandria (an act that would grant the fairly insignificant Ptolemy a degree of legitimacy on the geopolitical stage if successful), and took advantage of the tension between Antipater and Perdicass to align himself with Antipater and Krateros, thereby beginning the First War of the Diadochi. This war would ultimately end with (despite the death of Krateros at the hands of Eumenes (an ally of Perdicass), in the Battle of the Hellespont – who would later be sought after as a fugitive) the defeat of Perdicass, at the hands of his own troops who mutinied against him (the mutineers were led by Seleucus, another close friend of Alexander in his lifetime) and the victory of the allies.

   Following this victory, the victorious powers met in 321 BCE for what became known as the Partition of Triparadisus, to determine the new geopolitical makeup of Alexander’s rapidly disintegrating empire. Ultimately, Antipater (who at this point was 79) became the new official regent of the Empire with considerable power in the European territories – however, he granted much of the powers to the respective provinces, alongside Antigonus, who had been Satrap of Asia Minor (Anatolia), who began to exercise considerable force over the Eastern domains. Furthermore, Ptolemy, who had been allowed to maintain possession of the corpse of Alexander retained his realm and had proven himself as a force to be reckoned with, meanwhile, his now ally Seleucus was made Satrap of Mesopotamia (granting him significant prominence over one of the more illustrious provinces in the empire). Ultimately, this status quo would not last long as Antipater died in 319 BCE, however as his successor – instead of designating his middle-aged Cassander to rule (allegedly because he lacked faith in his son’s leadership, believing him to be immature and too young) – he designated Polyperchon, a trusted general and confidant under Alexander, and a close administrative advisor to Antipater as successor and regent. Beyond the general unpopularity of Polyperchon amongst the Diadochi, by and large, an opportunity had emerged to oppose the status quo and to accumulate more power amongst themselves (which in my opinion, is the official moment where we can delineate a trend and say for certain that the goal was no longer preservation of the Empire in its current form, but rather conflict with one another until either a singular one of the Diadochi emerged in absolute triumph, or the empire would be permanently partitioned).

Thus, Ptolemy, Antigonus, Seleucus, and Lysimachus (another influential General in charge of Thrace), decided to take advantage of the situation and align themselves with the disgruntled Cassander against Polyperchon and the central established regency. At this point, we can effectively look at the last time in which both sides of the conflict genuinely attempted to utilize the image of regal legitimacy by aligning themselves with the Argead dynasty, as the Alliance attempted to utilize a guileless Philip III to present an image of legitimacy, meanwhile, Polyperchon weirdly formed an official alliance with the remaining Argead’ s, under the leadership of Alexander’s mother Olympias who avidly supported the new regent. However, within this conflict, Philip III was poisoned upon the orders of Olympias, and in response, Cassander ordered and eventually instigated the murder of Olympias – thereby terminating the official power or relevancy of the Argead Dynasty (Alexander IV would later be killed upon the order of Cassander in 309 BCE, ending the dynasty altogether).

   The war ultimately ended with the victory of the Alliance, with Cassander becoming regent and the Hegemon of the West and Europe, while Antigonus utilizes newfound power to expand to become the de facto ruler of most of the Asian territories at this time, ultimately forcing Seleucus to flee into the refuge of his ally Ptolemy in Egypt. This new status quo, however, would not last long, as Antigonus began to consolidate power and was increasingly looking to be the apparent successor to Alexander’s Empire (now possessing most of the former territories besides Europe, Egypt, and certain regions in the Far East), yet an alliance was formed against him by the other remaining powers of Cassander, Ptolemy, and Lysimachus – who demand Antigonus’ surrender and distribute his newly acquired domains among them (a deliberately unwelcoming ultimatum which arguably was designed to incite war), and therefore, in 315 BCE, the Third War of the Diadochi broke out between Antigonus (who aligned with the now disgraced Polyperchon) and the Alliance. Ultimately, the third war ended in an anti-climactic stalemate and a peace treaty in 311 BCE, which was essentially tantamount to a restoration of status quo ante bellum, with the decree that when he turned 14 in 309 BCE, Alexander IV would be granted official control over the “empire” as King (an event that, as we know, never occurred). Eventually, following the demise of Alexander IV, it once again becomes apparent that the Hellenistic world was at the precipice of another conflict – in fact – in between 311 and 309 BCE, Seleucus had successfully expelled Antigonus from Babylon with nominal support from Ptolemy, reconstructing the province of Mesopotamia as his base of operations, before traveling off eastwards to reintegrate the long-forgotten Far East portions of Alexanders Empire (effectively, Seleucus spent over a decade doing the dirty work of nation-building that Alexander never had the patience to do, in solidifying an Empire). Ultimately, the Fourth Diadochi War was the last real effort that any one of the Diadochi attempted to exert to fully reunify Alexander’s Empire, with Antigonus (and his now-adult son Demetrius), battling the reformed Alliance against him, and with Antigonus' death at the Battle of Issus in 301, the Wars of the Diadochi had formatively ended.

   In Conclusion, in the aftermath of the battle, Ptolemy and Seleucus emerged as undoubtedly the primary victors of the War, with Ptolemy and his descendants controlling Egypt, parts of the Levant, and nominally Cyprus, while Seleucus and his descendants acquired control of Syria, Mesopotamia, most of the Levant and Anatolia, and nominally the Persian and Far Eastern provinces of Alexander’s domains. Meanwhile, Cassander and Lysimachus gradually fell out of relevance and had their domains predominantly annexed by Demetrius and (with the Anatolian holdings of Lysimachus) Seleucus. Thus, after decades of conflict, a new status quo had emerged, one that would characterize the Hellenistic Age – yet it was not forged without blood, for these conflicts; the Wars of the Diadochi, ignited by Generals whose minds’ were trained for war and conquest, and many, whose primary interests were War and domination, rather than stability and Preservation, however, the irony would remain that it was not the men with the greatest military prowess nor raw strength who emerged victorious, but rather the masters of strategy, diplomacy, nation-building, and the art of the selective alliance to bide time and expand. For it was Alexander who proclaimed his empire belonged to the Strongest, but at the end of the day, it ended up being won by the smartest.

·       On the Inherent Flaws of the Diadochi

   The Wars of the Diadochi – as we have observed, were one of the most long-spanning, continuous, multidimensional conflicts throughout all of Recorded Antiquity – and were undoubtedly filled with intrigue, fueled by Greed, and sustained by a ready supply of willing generals, yet, when one reflects upon the annals of history, the tragedies of senseless death, and this conflict that cannibalized a generation of men, one can often come to contemplate if such tragedies were inevitable, or if, with the proper planning, diplomacy, and leadership they could have been avoided. Thus, having effectively analyzed the Wars of the Diadochi and their fundamental exigence’, it would now be of utmost prudence for us to attempt to gauge the inherent flaws of the Diadochi that led to the collapse of every attempted partition or peace treaty, and if it was at all possible to have prevented the Wars of the Diadochi, and left the realm of Alexander (and the Achaemenids before him) intact altogether. It is here that I am remised to assert that although it was definitely possible, a peaceful end and establishment of a stable order following the death of Alexander would have been highly unlikely, due to a plentitude of various reasons, prevalent characteristics, and circumstances that would have rendered the task near impossible.

Firstly, perhaps the greatest fundamental, obvious flaw of the status quo at the time of the Diadochi was that there was no legitimate claimant to administrative leadership following the death of Alexander, at least in a highly monarchical society that had been ruled since its semi-legendary inception by the Argead Dynasty and therefore, I fear, it would be at least in terms of an initial heir highly quixotic to think, with a society and court made up predominantly of men who were not only birthed and melded in this monarchical society but had been made to worship the previous king as a demigod for the last several years, with significant factions exercising emblematic nostalgia of traditional, Philippian Rule. This is not to say that a hypothetical post-Argead deal of stability could not have been made (for I believe in time, and given initial stability and proper compromise that it very well could have), however, it definitely amounted to an initial setback for those who wished for stability, and the fact that there was no truly promising successor in sight did no good in ameliorating these quarrels.

    Furthermore, with regard to the nature of the generals and eventual Diadochi who were entrusted with control of the Empire, their failures were definitely not on account of any lack of merit, for nearly all of these men were undoubtedly masters of strategy, logistics, warfare – with a few more such as Antipater who were also qualified in statesmanship and diplomacy, and there were those who exemplified all of the above qualities but were also polymaths in their own right, like Ptolemy. The problem however was that, in part due to the inherently draconian policy of recent years, but primarily due to the underlying ambitions of these men, and the immense greed, defiance, and pride that – justified or not – drove their actions away from a resolute peace and preservation of order, and closer towards a drastically detrimental, decades-long series of conflicts, willing to go against the odds to try and carve out a gold platter for themselves, rather than a silver goblet with their countrymen: a resolve that, in the end, led to a couple of victors, and the vast majority of Diadochi getting slaughtered and forgotten to history. For it was the fundamental flaws of the very authors of the Partitions of Babylon, Triparadisus, and Persepolis, whose true intentions (as held evident through the outcome of their actions) were present not with equanimity and prosperity, but rather intentions ranging from entitlement to greed, to outright despotism that fostered the failure of these deals. Furthermore, I would argue that in the minds of a great many Diadochi’ during these treatises, their intentions were such that the partitions were not necessarily designed with the intention of long-lasting peace, but rather to bide time to carve out their own individual power, riches, and territory before, in the best case a worthy successor emerges, or otherwise they have a chance to vie for the title themselves in the gauntlet of war. For when one reflects upon the various Partitions of the Diadochi, it is almost difficult to miss the fact that they were not deliberately designed to fail and enable for an opportunity to ascertain greater power – as held evident once again by their intentions, desires, and the ensuing events.

For instance, the Treaty of Babylon, which did nothing but bequeath the throne to two clearly incompetent, incapable individuals, and distributed land to the various Diadochi to rule, and, if a perfect, stabilizing hegemon was in charge of the executive, perhaps this arrangement could have worked, as – in it’s simplest form a Hellenized rebranding of the old Achaemenid system of governance. However, in part due to the absence of such a figure (a fact that was fairly obvious to all parties involved in the crafting of the partition), such a reality was made far more difficult, and although a regent such as Perdicass could have potentially served as such a figure had he been perfectly honorable and principled in his administration, he was not and was instead corrupted by greed and desires for greater power (which, in part may have been spurred on the conniving Olympias, whose track record would conform to such a trend). This corruption of interests, however, was not limited to Perdicass, but rather to all the Diadochi, who only waited the exercise their collective urge when intrigue arose, hence alluring conflict. Perhaps, after the fall of Perdicass, if the Diadochi were all men of great virtue, honor, and humility, peace could have endured – yet that was not the case, for better or worse.

   Therefore, as one observes the many inherent flaws of the Diadochi, and the ramifications thereof – one cannot help but wonder if events could have gone differently. Now, as we have observed, it was unlikely, and perhaps if their dispositions and intentions were different, the Diadochi could have gradually maintained stability and even preserved the Empire of Alexander with or without the Argeads. For, although these men were birthed in a kingdom of warfare, concepts of compromise, power-sharing, and common good were not unheard of, and were fairly common values (at least on paper), within the then twilight Democracies of Classical Greece, for after all – within Alexander’s (and likely a great many Diadochi) most cherished piece of literature (the Iliad) the principles of democratic practices amongst the soldiery were not unheard of, as the military assemblies of Homeric Greece could have served as a hypothetical blueprint for a Modus Operandi. For although the Diadochi were not men of a Republic, but men like Ptolemy, Seleucus, and Antipater certainly exercised traits that can convince us that, in this idealized vision, they had the potential to be. Who knows, maybe, within this idealized world, the Diadochi could have even become an Ancient equivalent of the Founding Fathers or the parallel Roman Authors of the Twelve Tables, true men of honor – instead of the forebearers of destruction. Of course, at this point, we now enter the highly quixotic dream of what could have been, yet if it sounds unrealistic, perhaps let that be a reminder for how unlikely stability was following the death of Alexander, given the mindset and circumstances of the men who were bestowed with guardianship. In conclusion, let the anarchical period following Alexander’s death, now known as the Wars of the Diadochi be a painful reminder to all of perhaps the closest an advanced society has come to Kraterocracy, or rule by whoever may be the strongest, without much regard to stability, virtue, compromise, or the popular mandate – all concepts that to us seem imperative to any functioning government. Yet, if anything, let this be a reminder, that, to quote Winston Churchill; “Those who fail to learn from history are doomed to repeat it”

·       On the Legacy of Alexander in the Hellenistic Age

  When one reflects upon the annals of history and the innumerable legacies that have long ago been established by institutions, civilizations, communities, movements, and great men – it is not difficult to feel dwarfed or ephemeral in the grand scheme of eternity. Very few men, however, have elicited such emotions to such a prevalent degree, that it became the envy of many of history's greats in their own right – the man I speak of is, of course, Alexander the Great. Yet the legacy of Alexander, and its impact upon the course and trajectory of humanity is one that arguably stands tall in its own right, alongside what Alexander did in his own life. For it can be argued that Alexander, whose name and exploits have lived on throughout the millennia, and have been subject to an almost unparalleled degree of romanticization; has permeated the zeitgeist of humanity as much, if not more in death, than he did in his life. For this axiom can be said about a great many figures whose names echo throughout eternity, and it can be argued that in the period not too long after ones’ death, before the generations have had their chance to immortalize certain figures in a certain light, they may stand far less tall than they are destined to stand in future centuries.

For instance, Caesar was a fairly controversial figure after his death who, until the absolute fall of his opponents, and the consolidation of power by Octavian after Actium could have simply been yet another dictatorial general, as a part of a trend including himself, Sulla, and Marius during the most recent decades of the Roman Republic. The names of various religious prophets, Christ, Buddha, and Mohammad included (arguably lesser so for the latter due to the Arab Wars of Expansion during his lifetime), were initially not as well-known following their deaths as compared to any other regional name, but two to three centuries later were known in nearly all corners of the earth. It is difficult to say if Croesus, Cyrus, or Darius would even be remembered, or if not that, relegated to the names of antediluvian Middle Eastern Kings the likes of Tiglath-Pileser III, had it not been for their veneration and immortalization by Herodotus within his Histories’.

   George Washington was for the most part ignored by early 19th-century European historians as opposed to figures like Pitt, Canning, Metternich, or Joeseph II of Austria, who were deemed more important, but now are remembered only in select circles. Jefferson was denounced in much of reactionary Europe after his death for his association with the radicals of the French Revolution before later being near-universally venerated as a patron saint of modern democracy. Lincoln and Grant (especially the latter) were dismissed by half the country for nearly a century after their death, and so on, and so forth. On the other hand, men like Nero and Theodosius – two Roman Emperors who nowadays are traditionally frowned upon and relegated to the realm of unfit rulers – were hailed as exceptional sovereigns by the general populace immediately after their deaths. Furthermore, many contemporary journalists, scholars, historians, and laymen alike proclaimed Chester A. Arthur and Warren G. Harding to be among the greatest American leaders following their departure from office, yet now their presidencies are remembered as near-the worst in our country's history, especially in the case of the latter, who was arguably the most corrupt Head of State our nation has ever had. 

   In other words, although it can often be an indicator of long-term legacy, the immediate legacy of any man after their death may often contradict or lack correlation with how they shall be remembered in the long term, and therefore, it shall be our aim today to attempt to gauge the popular recollection of Alexander, but a couple of decades after his demise, at the widely agreed Dawn of the Hellenistic Era in 281 BCE. For Alexander, although his legacy may not have had the same, towering name that it possesses today, nearly 2,500 years after his death, the name of Alexander was certainly – at least in the official rhetoric of the Diadochi – still the source of a great deal of revelry and collective awe. Regarding the official deeds of Alexander, it seems that much of the scholastic and geopolitical world was still in a state of shock and awe at the grandeur and magnitude of Alexander’s conquests, and many were still uncertain as to what place in history Alexander would hold, depending on the outcome and ramifications of the Wars of the Diadochi, and if the potential accomplishments of any said Diadochi could or would be able to outperform Alexander, relegating him to the ages in a similar fashion to the way he had done to Philip (although this was highly unlikely by 281).

At this point however, it is worth noting that although on one hand, the Diadochi revered Alexander and certainly commemorated him in everyday life and rhetoric (in part to gain legitimacy as a successor to the man that was, at least in the eyes of every Macedonian, the rightful king who ruled the world), there was, as exemplified by the increasing adoption of regal titles and privileges such as Basilaeus (King), or or the establishment of nation-states distinct from Alexander’s, rather than a direct successor (Seleucid, Ptolemaic Empire(s)) – that the remaining Diadochi were seeking to balance a revelry of Alexander with a degree of differentiation in their own right and nature, to establish their own legacies as rulers. This can be observed when seeing the contrast between certain customs and comparisons by rulers such as Seleucus and Ptolemy, who also began to, in addition to honoring Alexander, began naming cities and sites after themselves. The latter however, had managed to balance this comparison, and distinct construction of an identity (for Ptolemy, this was a Greco-Egyptian fusion distinct from Alexander’s meager adoption of Egyptian loyalty in a Greek, potentially Asian light) with a respectable degree of homage and honor to Alexander, as especially demonstrated within Ptolemies’ History of Alexander.

  Moreover, despite this attempt to establish distinct brands and identities amongst the Hellenistic elite and Diadochi, there was also a continued effort – especially to appeal to the sizable population who still revered Alexander religiously – to emulate Alexander whether it be in the style, aesthetic, mannerisms, standards and practices, among other things. This element can be demonstrated when observing the aesthetic and designs even of the Diadochi in official busts – such as Seleucus or Demetrius, who attempted to style themselves in the likes of Alexander, alongside unique differences in their own right. This unique synthesis, at least among the Hellenistic elite was rather characteristic of this dichotomy, however throughout the general populace by and large, there was, for the most part, a continuous admiration of Alexander (at least among Greeks), as the man who not only Liberated all of Asia from the Persian yoke but delivered Greece to her highest heights, only for his dream to be (for whatever reason as far as they knew) mismanaged by the Diadochi after his demise. Despite this admiration, it is highly unlikely, given the fairly historical and fairly non-revelrous nature of the writings directly after his death, that Alexander was widely worshiped alongside Hercules as a god in the way that he intended to be seen, yet he still received a great deal of tribute that would only expand as time went on, before a near-deification at the hands of the Romans during the Principate. Regarding his perception amongst the peoples’ of Asia, we know that the Indians possessed a great deal of respect of Alexander, as demonstrated by the countless manuscripts that were dedicated to him within the Library at Paliputra, the capital of the Mauryan Empire, which had arose not long after Alexander’s death and by 281 BCE controlled nearly all of the Indian subcontinent. This revelry was further demonstrated through the fusion of Greek and Indian culture, arts, and sciences around this time, emblematic of the Early Hellenistic Age.

    On another note, Alexander’s legacy amongst the everyday populations of Asia and the former Persian Empire was likely, besides those who respected his tolerance and respect for their traditional customs, likely possessed a fairly ambivalent perspective on his reign – as the vast majority of Persians were likely not too heavily impacted by Alexander’s conquests as much as the Greeks or the armies may have been, despite a change in leadership, and likely felt a far greater impact and degree of relevance from the conflict of the Diadochi than that of Alexander (despite him having had a definite impact upon the known world at the time). With regards to any perception of the character flaws of Alexander, it was likely not in any way too common of knowledge, besides those who personally knew him such as the Diadochi, members of their courts, or the select audience of a few gossip-hungry Pamphleteers the likes of Theopompus. Therefore, besides a few select historical accounts such as Ptolemy (who even attempted to moderate any mentions of Alexander’s flaws to attempt to appear more in his light), or later Arrian and Diodorus Siculus, most of the recollection of Alexander’s severe character flaws at least amongst the vast majority of people at that time, in many ways akin to our own time, died out – and with the sole exception of Medieval Moralist poetry (Chaucer), the more nuanced perspective on Alexander was uncommon to be in mainstream discussion until the modern era. In Conclusion, it can be tangibly observed that the legacy of Alexander was one that undoubtedly has echoed throughout the millennia, yet one that is far more nuanced and complex than it may initially appear to be, and although much has changed since 281 BCE, several of the same names that echoed then, continue to echo through the annals of history, persisting and vivifying the present day.