#artaxerxes

[adxmanial]

new design who this

[garland-on-thy-brow]

Inspired of Arne to make Semira's and Rimenes' (Megabise's) arias metrical and lexical parallels (e.g. lexical echo I'll scorn to complain <--> I scorn to reflect) while direct semantic opposites.

The semantic contrast is already in Metastasio, but the formal parallels are not.

[beardedmrbean]

[thatshowthingstarted]

Achaemenid gold appliqué of a bull and a gold lamassu, 404-359 BC.

The two extraordinary objects were reputedly discovered during an excavation at the city of Hamadan, in northwest Iran, in 1920.

The most dazzling discovery by far was a trove of 23 gold items that included statues of goats and camels, items of jewellery, and two tablets with inscriptions dating the hoard to the reign of King Artaxerxes II (404-359 BC).

Artaxerxes II was a powerful leader who successfully defended the largest empire the ancient world had ever seen — stretching from Greece to India — against his brother, Cyrus the Younger, and his army of Greek mercenaries known as ‘The Ten Thousand’. He also waged successful campaigns against the Spartans, Athenians and Egyptians.

Much of the king’s wealth was lavished on building projects, including the restoration of the palace of his forebear, Darius I, at Susa, a new hall at Hamadan and his own tomb at Persepolis.

Greek and Roman historians described how Achaemenid buildings were covered in spectacular amounts of gold. Persepolis alone is said to have contained 2,500 tonnes of it. Herodotus wrote that Achaemenid soldiers ‘glittered all over with gold, vast quantities of which they wore about their person’.

- An Achaemenid gold appliqué of a winged bull, reign of Artaxerxes II, 404-359 BC. 9⅝ in (24.4 cm) high,

- An Achaemenid gold appliqué of a lamassu, reign of Artaxerxes II, 404-359 BC. 9 in (23.1 cm) high

Courtesy: Christie’s

[eli-kittim]

The Seventy Weeks of Daniel 9: A Critique of Questionable Interpretations

By Author Eli Kittim

Christological readings

The Prophecy of Seventy Weeks is given by the angel Gabriel and inscripturated in the Book of Daniel ch. 9. Despite being the subject of much hermeneutical study for thousands of years, it has nevertheless continued to baffle scholars and prophecy pundits alike. I will only deal with Christological readings and will not consider the historical-critical approach to Jewish eschatology, which usually presumes that the 70-weeks prophecy of Daniel pertains to Antiochus IV Epiphanes (c. 215-164 BCE). Liberal epistemology is based on historical reductionism, which often leads to gross misinterpretations of Scripture. Historically speaking, Jews began to return to Jerusalem from their Babylonian exile in 538 BCE. They were prompted to do so under an edict issued by Cyrus, King of Persia, aka Cyrus's edict. They also began to rebuild their Temple which had previously been destroyed by the Babylonians. By ca. 515 BCE, the Second Temple was completed.

There are Three Major Historical Starting Points for the 70-Weeks Prophecy

The key passage to the 70 weeks prophecy is Dan. 9.25 (NRSV):

Know therefore and understand: from the

time that the word went out to restore and

rebuild Jerusalem until the time of an

anointed prince, there shall be seven weeks;

and . . . sixty-two weeks . . .

Daniel 9.26 goes on to predict the timeline pertaining to the death of the Messiah:

After the sixty-two weeks, an anointed one

shall be cut off and shall have nothing, and

the troops of the prince who is to come shall

destroy the city and the sanctuary. Its end

shall come with a flood, and to the end

there shall be war. Desolations are decreed.

So, with regard to Daniel 9.25, there are 3 historical starting points of the prophecy. One is 538 BCE, which is associated with Cyrus’ edict. If you’re going to apply a historical interpretation, this appears to be the most precise date, given that it accurately portrays when “the word went out to restore and rebuild Jerusalem” as well as the timing of the restoration and rebuilding of the Temple sometime around 515 BCE!

The second date of the alleged starting point of Daniel’s 70-week prophecy, that some scholars employ, begins with the decree bestowed to Ezra by Artaxerxes I in 458/7 BCE (Ezra 7), which supposedly terminates with Jesus’ Baptism 483 years later (i.e. 7 weeks = 49y & 62 weeks = 434y; thus 49 + 434 = 483y). These calculations employ the day to year principle (cf. Num. 14.34; Ezek. 4.5-6): one year for each day.

The third possible date, and the most popular, that follows Sextus Julius Africanus, is 445 BCE, which refers to the letter given to Nehemiah by Artaxerxes I (Longimanus cf. Ezra 2). It’s important to note that many writers use a 360-day year period based on biblical passages for reckoning time (e.g. Gen. 7.11, 24; 8.4).

Criticisms of the 70-Weeks Prophecy Historical Interpretations

There are, however, many confounds in these historical theories. One problem is that the text itself does not explicitly state whether the king reference in the passage is to Artaxerxes I (465–424 BCE) or to Artaxerxes II (404–359 BCE). Although many scholars contend that Ezra probably lived during the time of Artaxerxes I, others are not convinced. Another problem is that the 69 weeks of years are supposed to terminate with the death of Christ, and yet the calculations from this perspective do not match the time of the purported Crucifixion.

Another exegetical problem is that although Christ and Antichrist appear simultaneously as contemporaries and are juxtaposed in the same verse (e.g. Dan. 9.26) regarding the 70th week, exegetes nevertheless deliberately separate the 70th week from the 69th week by a proposed 2,000 year gap between them. This decision doesn’t account for the end-time events that are described in the text (cf. Dan. 9.27). Furthermore, despite the violence done to the text, the proposed dates still do not match: they’re either too early or too late. They only appear to be close if you round them out.

There are other problems as well. Those who hold to the second possible date as the starting point of the prophecy, namely the date 457 BCE, contend that Jesus appeared during the 15th year of Tiberius Caesar Augustus (Lk 3:1), who reigned from 14 to 37 CE. This would put Jesus’ appearance at approximately 28 CE. But Daniel predicted not that the messiah would appear but that he would die on that date. So, this is also an inexact calculation. In his lectures, Chuck Missler frequently quoted a phrase that was coined by economist Ronald Coase: “if you torture the data long enough, it will confess to anything.”

The Historical Model: Sleight of Hand Hermeneutics

The first and only possible decree or edict to return, restore, and rebuild Jerusalem has to be the first one issued by Cyrus II of Persia, aka Cyrus the Great! In fact, the rebuilding process of Jerusalem had actually begun under Cyrus the Great, who had freed the Jews from Babylon, allowing them to return to Jerusalem in order to rebuild Solomon's Temple. As a result, many Jews returned in 538 BCE and began building the Temple in 536 BCE (Ezra 3.8). Not only that, but they completed it by 516/5 BCE (Ezra 6.15).

So why do most prophecy scholars attribute the starting point of the 70 weeks prophecy of Daniel to the letter of Artaxerxes I (Longimanus) in 445 BCE? Almost a century earlier, in 538 BCE, King Cyrus made a public declaration granting the Jews the right to return to Judah and rebuild the Temple in Jerusalem. But because that date doesn’t fit their calculations——because it would put Jesus’ appearance at about 55 BCE——scholars conveniently try to manhandle the Danielic prophecy in order to force their own private interpretations. So they arbitrarily move up the starting point of the prophecy to 445 BCE, 93 years later, with the aforesaid letter of Artaxerxes I (Longimanus). But this is underhanded exegesis which is not supported by the data.

In fact, many such theories were devised in the 1800s (to calculate the coming of Jesus) which had as their starting point the *Babylonian exile.* All of them were wrong! The classic work on the 70 Weeks of Daniel is Sir Robert Anderson’s 1894 book, “The Coming Prince.” Similarly, the Millerites also used the *Babylonian exile* as their starting point to predict the future coming of Jesus. They also used the Book of Daniel chapter 8 (specifically Dan. 8.14), which ultimately led to a false prophecy and the “Great Disappointment” of 1844! In short, these 19th century writers have devised complicated, elaborate, and convoluted schemes which ignore history and arbitrarily assign chronological dates that only match or confirm their specific biases.

Returning to the 70 Weeks historical model, the alleged chronological timetable is also intentionally broken up and divided, as if there is a 2,000 year gap between the 69th and the 70th week, even though this is not what the text is describing. For example, the death of the *anointed messiah* and the timing of *the prince to come* are inextricably linked together and juxtaposed in the same verse as if they are contemporaries rather than separated by 2,000 years (Dan. 9.26). In fact, this thought continues seamlessly into the following verse (v. 27) as part of a running narrative without the slightest hint of a change in chronology!

This exegetical decision is therefore a case of special pleading. These exegetes make little effort to support the data. They use bizarre gaps and anachronistic juxtapositions in chronology to make heterogeneous passages appear homogeneous, and vice versa.

The construction of this confusing exegesis is unwarranted. It embraces some questionable assumptions that do not square well with the data. It’s a failed attempt by Christian evidentialism to validate historical Christianity and the historical Christ by appealing to his fulfillment of Daniel 9. This is bad exegesis that prevents the text from being interpreted in a straightforward manner that is consistent with its grammatical and canonical contexts.

The Futurist Eschatology of Daniel 9

Notice that these events take place not in Antiquity but at “the end of time.” The Brenton LXX has the following footnote regarding Daniel 9.27:

. . . the original writes ἕως τῆς συντελείας,

i.e. -until- the end of time.

The realization that the 70-week prophecy is not referring to Antiquity is clear from Dan. 9.23-24:

So consider the word and understand the

vision: ‘Seventy weeks are decreed for your

people and your holy city: to finish the

transgression, to put an end to sin, and to

atone for iniquity, to bring in everlasting

righteousness, to seal both vision and

prophet, and to anoint a most holy place.’

Notice that fulfillment of this prophecy requires the end of all transgression and sin, and the beginning of everlasting righteousness, which signifies the end of all vision and prophecy. This is reminiscent of the end-times in Rev. 10.7 when “the mystery of God will be fulfilled.” Many scholars know that the chronology of Dan. 9.24 is within a futurist eschatological timetable. To attribute it to the Babylonian exile is therefore inappropriate. Why? Because sin has not yet ended. Neither has prophecy. Another reason is that the Babylonian exile didn’t last for 70 years. Historically, if the first deportation came after the siege of Jerusalem by Nebuchadnezzar II in c. 586 BCE, and the Jews returned to Judah in c. 538 BCE and began to rebuild the second temple in Jerusalem in c. 537 BCE, according to the Book of Ezra, then the Jews were actually held in Babylonian captivity for approximately 48 years, not 70. Let’s not forget that Ezekiel 38.8 prophesied that “In future years” Israel would be restored as a nation. So what is the timeline that the prophecy is alluding to?

The question is twofold:

If the 70-Weeks prophecy is referring to a restoration and a rebuilding that takes place in the end-times,

1) is it referring to the nation of Israel?

2) or is it referring to the rebuilding of Jerusalem?

Possible Answers:

1) Israel 1947/8

2) Jerusalem 1967/8

These are the most pertinent questions that should guide our hermeneutic. Depending on one’s exegetical decision, the calculation will take a different trajectory. In hindsight, we should be more accurate than our predecessors. We are not trying to set dates but only to frame the question correctly so as to set the tone for further exegetical studies.

How Can Weeks Be Interpreted as Years?

How can “weeks” be interpreted as years rather than heptads or seven-year periods?

The first reason is that Gabriel himself imparts a cryptic clue which, in effect, equates the “seventy weeks” of Daniel (Dan. 9.2) with the “seventy-year” oracle revealed to Jeremiah (Jer. 29.10). Gabriel suggests that the seventy years of Jeremiah’s prophecy must continue to be calculated as “years” within Daniel’s seventy-weeks oracle. In other words, this framework allows us to perform calculations using “weeks” as the standard of measuring time in addition to using actual “years.” That’s precisely why Gabriel doesn’t say 69 weeks but rather 7 weeks and 62 weeks! The values of these numbers appear to be different. The former is interpreted as weeks of years; the latter as years per se. However, an inversion would not work. For instance, if the former (i.e. the 7 weeks) is calculated as years, the calculation cannot work simply because we have exceeded the 50-year time period. That’s why the author did not clamp them together but carefully separated them to emphasize that their values are not equivalent.

The second reason why weeks can be interpreted as years has to do with the meaning of the Hebrew term for “weeks” (Heb. שָׁבֻעִ֨ים šā·ḇu·‘îm; BHS) in Dan. 9.24. This term comes from the Hebrew term “shabua,” which typically means a period of seven (days, years), heptad, week, etc. But it can also refer to a Feast of weeks (Shavuot), otherwise known as Pentecost (cf. Exod. 34.22; Num. 28.26; Deut. 16.10, 16; 2 Chr 8.13):

https://biblehub.com/hebrew/7620.htm

Strong's Hebrew: 7620. שְׁבֻעַ (shabua) -- a period of seven (days, years), heptad, week

Interestingly enough, a Shavuot occurs once per year. So, using this definition of one “week” or one Shavuot per year would give us *70 weeks* or 70 Shavuots in 70 years.

Therefore, from starting point x until the coming of Messiah there will be 7 weeks and 62 weeks (Dan. 9.25). Why doesn’t Gabriel just say, “from the time that the word went out to restore and rebuild Jerusalem until the time of an anointed prince, there shall be” 69 weeks? But that’s not what he says, precisely because the 7 and the 62 do not comprise identical values. And why is that? Because the 7 weeks represent *one of the 2 Questions* we asked earlier, while the 62 weeks represents *another one of the 2 Questions* that I proposed. It appears, then, that the 7 weeks represent *weeks of years,* while the 62 weeks represents actual *years.*

Bear in mind that the rebuilding of the city of Jerusalem technically began in 1968 when Israel started to rebuild the Jewish Quarter. Thus, the starting date for this variable may actually be 1968. Let’s not forget that the calculation must be consistent with a period “After the sixty-two weeks” in which “an anointed one shall be cut off” (Dan. 9.26).

The rebirth of Israel in 1948 may also be a viable option. The 70-year generation that culminated in 2018 may represent the final generation that “will not pass away until all these things have taken place” (Mt. 24.34). Notice that the Danielic verse (9.26) says AFTER the 62 weeks (not during) the messiah will be slain. So, hypothetically, 1948 could still work as a starting point since the messiah’s death may come a little while after the 62 weeks run out (i.e. *after* 2018). As already mentioned, there’s evidence to suggest that the 70 weeks of Daniel may be referring to 70 Shavuots or 70 actual years. This lends credence to an alternative interpretation that the 70 Shavuots may actually begin on Sabbath years. That is to say, the 70-Shavuots countdown may actually *begin* on the first Sabbath year in the modern State of Israel (which was 1951-1952), rather than in 1948!

How do we know which date is correct?

There is a litmus test. The coming of Messiah should fall within one generation from its starting point, be it Israel (1948) or Jerusalem (1967).

In fact, there is still one generation from 1948 to 2037 because Ps. 90.10 reads:

The days of our life are seventy years, or

perhaps eighty, if we are strong;

This means that people born in 1948 would still be in their 80s by the year 2037 CE. This would qualify as one generation!

It is important to remember Irenaeus’ claim in Against Heresies Book 2 Chapter 22 that Jesus lived to be about 50 years old. Compare Jn 8.57:

You are not yet fifty years old, and have you

seen Abraham?

This is why the Bible repeatedly emphasizes that the “promise” is fulfilled in Abraham’s old age. That’s why something happened to Enoch when he was 65 years old, represented metaphorically through his giving birth to Methuselah, a symbol of eternity (Gen. 5.21; cf. 5.24)! All these pericopes are symbols of the promised “seed” who is Christ (Gal. 3.16).

Conclusion

To sum up, in contrast to the *historical* starting points of Daniel’s 70-weeks prophecy that have been traditionally proposed, I have presented an alternative *futurist-eschatological* model that can be equally applied with more success, and one that is actually more straightforward and faithful to the text’s grammar, canonical context, and authorial intent.

Here’s a case in point. By way of allusion, Dan. 12.1 is almost certainly employing the messianic terminology of “an anointed prince” (Dan. 9.25; cf. 10.21; Isa. 9.6) to signify the Messiah’s death and resurrection at the time of the end:

At that time Michael, the great prince, the

protector of your people, shall

arise.

In the following verse (12.2), Daniel goes on to describe the general resurrection of the dead that will occur during the same time period. Thus, the Messiah’s death apparently transpires *AFTER* (not before) 1948, as Daniel’s 70-weeks prophecy seemingly suggests. This time period is elsewhere referred to as “καιροῦ συντελείας” (Dan. 12.4 LXX), which is translated as “the end of time” in Daniel ch. 9 (Dan. 9.27 LXX cf. 9.23-24; 12.4, 9, 13 NRSV)! Despite the fact that we don’t know the precise date, nevertheless Daniel’s 70-Weeks prophecy strongly suggests that the messiah will not come hundreds or even thousands of years from now but that he’s right around the corner: “right at the door” (Mt. 24.33 ISV)! Acts 1.6 ties the restoration of Israel (1948) to the coming of Messiah. In fact, according to Mt. 24.34, the last generation that sees the end-times signs will also see all things fulfilled. And Joel 3.1-2 ties the return of Israel to Armageddon. He claims that during the same time period that Judah and Jerusalem will be restored as a nation (1948) is when all the nations will come down to the valley of Jehoshaphat!

[master-hekates-ceremonials]

Artaxerxes, the Blind King

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

5. The King, the Earth, and the Water

The Good Gardener “The elite warrior Great King could also engage in agricultural work and influence the prosperity of the fields. Xenophon develops this theme with particular insistence in the Oeconomicus. In order to make his addressee (Critobidos) better understand the combined importance of war and agriculture, Socrates (fictitious mouthpiece of Xenophon) gives example of the king of the Persians:

Need we be ashamed of imitating the king of the Persians? For they say that he pays close attention to husbandry and the art of war, holding that these are two of the noblest and most necessary pursuits. (IV.40)

Then Xenophon returns indefatigably to this point: "As for the country, he personally examines so much of it as he sees in the course of his progress through it." The mission entrusted to the governors was to ensure "that their country is densely populated and that the land is in cultivation and well stocked with the trees of the district and crops" (lV.8*). In the shape of a specific illustration of a general policy, Xenophon is careful to include a reference to the paradises:

"Yet further," continues Socrates, "in all the districts he resides in and visits he takes care that there are (kepoi) 'paradises,' as they call them, full of all the good and beautiful things that the soil will produce, and in this he himself spends most of his time, except when the season precludes it."

"By Zeus," says Critobulos,

"Then it is of course necessary, Socrates, to take care that these paradises in which the king spends his time shall contain a fine stock of trees and all other beautiful things that the soil produces." (IV. 13-14*)

Elsewhere, Xenophon also states that his Cyrus ordered each of his satraps to establish paradises (Cyr. VIII.6.12). In fact, the Classical texts, Babylonian tablets, and also a few tablets from Persepolis show that there was at least one paradise in each satrapy. Among other examples, we may cite Plutarch's description of the paradise of the satrap Tissaphernes at Sardis, "the most beautiful of his parks, containing salubrious streams and meadows, where he had built pavilions, and paces of retirement royally and exquisitely adorned" (Plutarch, Ale. 24.7-0). The paradise at Dascylium was known to the Greeks for its fertility and charm (Xenophon, Hell. IV. 1.15—17). These qualities are depicted on several impressions and seals found at the site. Quintus Curtius wrote this about a paradise near Ecbatana: "The residences in that region have extensive, charming, and secluded parks with groves artificially planted; these were the special delight of both kings and satraps" (VII.2.22*). However, the paradises were not just hunting preserves; the preserves were only one constituent.

When Socrates was trying to convince Critobulos that Cyrus the Younger "would have proved an excellent ruler" (Oec. IV. 180-), he cited several sources in support of this assessment, including a description of Lysander's visit to Cyrus the Younger's paradise at Sardis:

"Lysander admired the beauty of the trees in it, the accuracy of the spacing, the straightness of the rows, the regularity of the angles and the multitude of the sweet scents that clung round them as they walked; and for wonder of these things he cried, 'Cyrus, I really do admire all these lovely things, but I am far more impressed with your agent's skill in measuring and arranging everything so exactly' Cyrus was delighted to hear this and said: 'Well, Lysander, the whole of the measurement and arrangement is my own work, and I did some of the planting myself.' 'What, Cyrus?' exclaimed Lysander, looking at him, and marking the beauty and perfume of his robes, and the splendour of the necklaces (to strepta) and bangles (pselia) and other jewels that he was wearing; 'did you really plant part of this with your own hands?' 'Does that surprise you, Lysander?' asked Cyrus in reply. "I swear by the Sun-god that I never yet sat down to dinner when in sound health, without first working hard at some task of war or agriculture, or exerting myself somehow.'" (IV.20-25-*)

There is no doubt that Xenophon's narratives came from a version that sang the praises of Cyrus the Younger's royal qualities and that the link between the Great King and agriculture was thus one of the constituent elements of Achaemenid royal ideology. In systematically underscoring the brutal contrast between the verdure of the paradise and the barrenness of its surroundings, the Classical authors—without being fully aware of it—participated in the exaltation of a sovereign powerful enough to create prosperity and vegetation in the face of unfavorable natural conditions. But in the passage above, Xenophon —the only Classical author to preserve this topos—brings in another characteristic feature: the king himself planted trees. This is not a Hellenizing invention of the author. We may cite a parallel passage from the book of Esther, which records the organization of a feast by Ahasuerus (Xerxes) in his palace at Susa; the author places the festival "in the enclosure adjoining the kings palace" (1:5*), The Vulgate says: "in the vestibule of the garden and the woods, which had been planted by the royal hands with a magnificence worthy of them" (horti et nemoris quwi regio cultu et maim consitum erat). More importantly, two iconographic testimonies confirm and illustrate the theme of gardener-king. A cylinder seal from the Achaemenid era shows a Persian using his long staff to guide a pair of oxen with humps drawing a plow. An almost identical scene is found on a coin from Tarsus in Cilicia: the work scene is shown on the obverse, surmounted by a winged disk, with the reverse showing a cow suckling a calf. There is scarcely any doubt that in both cases it is the king himself being shown as a gardener.

Xerxes and the Plane (or Sycamore) Tree Other texts attest to a special relationship between the Great King and flora. In the course of his story of Xerxes' march between Phrygia and Sardis, Herodotus slates concisely, "it was hereabouts that he came across a plane tree of such beauty that he was moved to decorate it (doresamenos) with golden ornaments (kosmos chryseos) and to leave behind one of his Immortals to guard it" (VII.31-*). The story was clearly very popular among the Greeks; another version has it that during Xerxes' passage through Phrygia (on his return from Europe) a plane (sycamore) tree metamorphosed miraculously into an olive tree. In his Variae Historiae, Aelian returns twice to the anecdote:

The famous king Xerxes was ridiculous (gefoi'os), if it is true that he despised sea and land, the handiwork of Zeus, manufacturing for himself novel roads and abnormal sea route, and yet was the devotee (dedouloto) of a plane tree, which he admired. In Lydia, they say, he saw a large specimen of a plane tree, and stopped for that day without any need. He made the wilderness around the tree his camp (stathmos), and attached to it expensive ornaments, paying homage to the branches with necklaces (strepta) and bracelets (pselia). He left a caretaker (meledon) for it, like a guard (phylake) to provide security (phrouros), as if it were a woman he loved. What benefit accrued to the tree as a result? The ornaments it had acquired, which were quite inappropriate to it, hung on it without serving any purpose and made no contribution to its appearance, since the beauty of a tree consists of fine branches, abundant leaves, a sturdy trunk, deep roots, movement in the wind, shadow spreading all around, change in accordance with the passing of seasons, with irrigation channels to support it and rain water to sustain it. Xerxes' robes (chlamydes), barbarian gold, and the other offerings (dora) did not ennoble the plane or any other tree.

Aelian judges royal behavior just as severely and condescendingly elsewhere. He includes it among other examples of love "ridiculous (geloioi) and bizarre (paradoxoi)" for the same reasons as the passion avowed by a young Athenian for a statue of Tyche or attachments between humans and animals (IX.39*). This assessment (no trace of it is  found in Herodotus) comes from the negative vision of Xerxes transmitted by all of the Greek authors who —following the model of their inspiration, Aelian—denounced the immoderation (hybris) of a man who did not shrink from affronting the laws of man and god by throwing a bridge across the sea. The same assumption of balance and moderation led Aelian to exalt the laws of nature that did not permit unnatural loves between humans and nonhumans, or personal, emotional relationships between a man and a tree: the growth of vegetation is permitted (or forbidden) by the natural elements (waters, winds, seasons) and by the labor of the peasants (irrigation canals); the personal intervention even of a king as powerful as Xerxes is as nothing in the face of the immutable constraints of nature. 

In view of this, it is clear that Aelian understood nothing of the court history that he read, perhaps in Herodotus himself, and that he embellished with a moralizing commentary suitable for reaching his Greek readers. If his account is read back into Persian and Iranian mindsets, it provides another attestation of the special relationship between the king and the vegetable kingdom. The gifts to the plane tree are of exactly the same kind as the gifts that the king presented to his Faithful and his Benefactors (bracelets, necklaces, robes) —that is, to the men who deserved to be recognized for their loyalty and devotion to the Royal House and to the person of the king. The Lydian plane tree was thenceforth as  richly decorated as the Immortal whom Xerxes appointed as its guard and whose jewelry Quintus Curtius described as follows: "They are especially the ones whom a barbarian luxury of opulence rendered the most imposing: for them gold necklaces, for them robes embroidered with gold and sleeved tunics, also adorned with gems" (III.3.13). But these are also the jewelry worn by the king himself, as Xenophon recalls, stressing that the ornaments did not impede Cyrus the Younger from planting trees.

There can hardly be any doubt that this episode echoes the existence of a tree cult. Several seals convey similar scenes. One of them (inscribed with the name of Xerxes) shows a person dressed and coiffed like a Persian king about to place a crown in front of a stylized tree of life. One of the Persepolis seals is particularly interesting. Two guards (similar to the guards shown at Susa and Persepolis) stand at attention, lances upright in front of them, on other side of a palm tree, the winged disk surmounting the scene. We are immediately reminded of the Immortals assigned to guard Xerxes' plane tree!  ... Achaemenid palaces were probably the model for the decoration of the palace of the Mauryan king at Pataliputra: "His palace has gilded columns: over all of these runs a vine carved in gold, and silver figures of birds, in the sight of which they take the greatest pleasure, adorn the structure" (Quintus Curtius VIII.8.26*). We are immediately reminded of the famous Assyrian banquet under the arbor (fig. 32). There is no doubt that in the Near East (and in many other parts of the ancient world) the vine was recognized and hailed as a symbol of fecundity, and its increase was considered a gauge of power. A good illustration is found in the dream that Herodotus says the Median king Astyages had shortly after his daughter Mandane's marriage to the Persian Cambyses: 

It was that a vine grew from his daughter's private parts and spread over Asia.... He told the interpreters about this dream, and then sent for his daughter, who was now pregnant. When she arrived, he kept her under strict watch, intending to make away with the child; for the fact was that the Magi had interpreted the dream to mean that his daughter's son would usurp his throne. (I.I08*) 

Such were the favorable auspices under which Cyrus vvas born. The vine that grew from Mandane's private parts was obviously nothing other than the guarantee of an uncommon destiny for the child and reports of conquests extending across all Asia. This is precisely what the Median king understood: "This dream announced the greatness [of the child about to be born] and presaged to Astyages the end of his crown." Hence the attempts to banish the baby and the happy outcome of the founder legend.

Artaxerxes II in the Paradise In the Achaemenid ideological context, we have two other testimonies that are particularly evocative of relations between the Great King and arboreal flora. In the Life of Artaxerxes, Plutarch tells of the difficulties encountered by the king and his army after their return from an expedition against the Cadusians. The army suffered from so many shortages that the chefs were unable to prepare the royal dinner (24.3). Then Plutarch includes the following anecdote:

After they had arrived at one of his own mansions (stathnios basilikos), which had beautiful ornamented parks in the midst of a region naked and without trees, the weather being very cold, be gave full commission to his soldiers to provide themselves with wood by cutting down any, without exception, even the pine and cypress. And when they hesitated and were for sparing them, being large and goodly trees, he, taking up an axe himself, felled the greatest and most beautiful of them. After which his men used their hatchets, and piling up many fires, passed away the night at their ease. (JJ25.1*)

It is clear that this passage is part of a discussion of the royal virtues of Artaxerxes II, whose physical stamina and bravery Plutarch wished to stress, as well as his abilities as a leader (§24.9-11). The connection between the king and the foliage was so well known to the soldiers that they did not dare to raise their axes against the trees, despite the king's authorization. This confirms the role of the king as the trees' protector. A paradise had to remain "undisturbed," that is, free from the ravages of war (Quintus Curtius VIII.1.13*; cf. Polybius XXXI.29), The felling of trees in the paradise was considered an affront to the sovereignty and majesty of the Great King. It is quite striking that, according to Diodorus of Sicily (XVI.41.5*), the first hostile act of the revolt by the Phoenicians against Artaxerxes III was "the cutting clown and destroying of the royal park in which the Persian Kings were wont to take their recreation." Similarly, under the guise of reprisals, Cyrus the Younger ravaged the paradise of the satrap Belesys, who had sided with Artaxerxes II (Xenophon, Anab. 1.4.2), and the Spartan king Agesilaus "ravaged the orchards and the paradise of Tissaphernes" near Sardis (Diodorus XIV.80.2). Let us also stress that, as in Aelian's version and in many other texts, Plutarch accents the contrast between the aridity of the surrounding countryside and the flamboyant fecundity of the paradise. Of the various tree species, Plutarch also seems to accord special value to pines and cypresses, because these species could only grow in these regions through acclimatization accompanied by intensive care, obviously on the initiative of the royal administration. Strabo, explaining the difficulties that Alexander encountered in 325-324 in procuring wood in Babylonia, states that Babylonia suffered "a scarcity of timber," so much so that Alexander had to sacrifice "the cypress trees in the groves and the parks" (XVI. 1.1 ) .At Persepolis itself, many reliefs are punctuated by rows of pines (or cypresses).

Clearchus's Tomb The story of Clearchus, Cyrus the Younger's closest Greek associate, whose abilities as commander-in-chief Xenophon vaunts at length (Anab. II.3.11-13; 6.1-15), may also be mentioned in this connection. Shortly after the battle of Cunaxa, Clearchus and other Greek generals fell into the hands of the satrap Tissaphernes (II.5.31-32). Despite the claims of Xenophon (II.5.38), Clearchus was not put to death immediately but was imprisoned, according to Ctesias. Ctesias then established a relationship with the general. Ctesias was undoubtedly following instructions from Cyrus the Younger's mother, Parysatis, who thus once more exhibited her desire to honor the memory of her favorite son. Contrary to Parysatis's wishes, however, Artaxerxes gave in to the repeated importunings of his wife, Stateira, and Clearchus was executed (Plutarch, Art. 18.4; Ctesias, Persica §60). At this point, Ctesias describes the divine signs that accompanied the burial of Clearchus:

An extraordinary sight (terns) appeared around his body. In fact, spontaneously (automates), a very high mound rose over his corpse with the breath of a great wind. (§60) 

Citing Ctesias, Plutarch records the event with even more detail than Photius, adding an important detail: 

As for the remains of Clearchus, that a violent gust of wind, bearing before it a vast heap of earth, raised a mound to cover his body, upon which, after a short time, some dates having fallen there, a beautiful grove (akos) of trees grew up and overshadowed the place. (§18.7*)

Plutarch obviously considers Ctesias's information worthless and makes the accusation that "this part of his history is a sort of funeral exhibition in honour of Clearchus." He also points out that if the trees did grow that way, it was not automates (spontaneously) but because "dates had fallen there." Plutarch's doubts are certainly well founded. But Ctesias did not give these details simply because of his loyalty to Sparta (Clearchus was a Spartan), for which Plutarch denounces him elsewhere (§13.7). It is clear that Ctesias passed on a version that originated in the circle of Parysatis, who once again was trying to enhance the memory of Cyrus by dramatizing a faithful lieutenant's extraordinary destiny. Ctesias even contrasts Clearchus's fate with the fate of other Greek generals, "who were torn apart by dogs and birds" (§7). This detail clearly refers to funerary customs known in eastern Iran and in the Avesta (which is more recent), which forbade underground burial and anticipated that animals and birds would strip the flesh from corpses. We thus find ourselves in a Persian and Iranian religious context. The punchline of Ctesias's story, as repeated by Plutarch, confirms this: when Artaxerxes saw the luxuriant grove that later graced Clearchus's tomb, he "declared his sorrow, concluding that in Clearchus he put to death a man beloved of the gods" (theois philos; §18.8-0). In other words, the propaganda released by Parysatis's supporters repealed, on behalf of Clearchus, the royal ideological theme that we are considering: because of the king's privileged relationship with the deities who guarantee prosperity, he was honored by vegetation that thrived without human intervention (automatos). The gods themselves created a paradise in the form of a sacred grove (akos) whose foliage overshadowed a tumulus located in an arid region. Through Clearchus, therefore, as Ctesias wrote, "a sign [was] sent by the gods (teres)" that came to provide a striking posthumous confirmation of the royal attributes that Cyrus the Younger liked to claim. 

The Rainmaker and Master of the Storm Royal power was manifested even more directly in the cycles of nature. The clearest reference to this is Polyaenus's discussion of Darius's 519 expedition against the Saka of Central Asia (VII. 11.12). Due to the treachery of the Sakian Sirakes, the guide, the Great King's army found itself in an absolutely barren region with neither water nor food supplies, where neither bird nor any other beast could be seen. Salvation came from Darius himself: 

He climbed a very high hill, and after fixing his scepter in the ground, he placed his tiara and the royal diadem on top of his royal robe (kandys). This was at sunrise. He prayed to Apollo to save the Persians and to send them water from heaven. The god listened, and abundant rain fell. 

The story told by Polyaenus is obviously Persian in origin. Details in it are attested elsewhere: the sacred location (a mountain), the time (sunrise), the interlocutor (the king), the prayers and worship regularly rendered by the Persians to the forces of nature ("They also worship the sun, moon, and earth, fire, water, winds"; Herodotus 1.131-0). Furthermore, to mask his evil intent and subterfuge, Sirakes did not hesitate to "call the eternal Fire and the sacred Water to witness" in Darius's presence. 

Only the god is unnamed. Polyaenus mentions Apollo, who frequently stands for Mithra in Greek sources. Nonetheless, in this context Polyaenus's Apollo seems to designate a deity specifically connected with rain. Perhaps it was Tistrya, the deity to whom Yasht 8 of the Avesta was dedicated and who was closely linked to Mithra in Iranian tradition. He was the liberator of the waters and was the deity to whom prayers for rain were addressed, particularly in the hot season. However, Polyaenus's text perfectly expresses the king's role as intercessor between gods and men. Darius strips off all of the attributes of royalty: the royal robe, scepter, tiara, and diadem. It is the scepter stuck in the ground that causes the rain. By granting his prayer, the god confirms and exalts the exceptional position of the king. The story, which the author places in an Iranian-speaking country, is built on a series of motifs that highlight the king's privileged relation with the deities  and the power that he drew from his intimacy with the gods who govern the elements of nature.

Ctesias presents further evidence of the cosmic power of the Great King, preserved in Photius's summary. Among all of the marvels he reports about India, Ctesias mentions a "fountain that is filled every year with liquid gold": 

He also talks about the iron found at the bottom of the fountain. Ctesias claimed to have had two swords made from this metal: one was a gift from the king, the other a gift from the king’s [Artaxerxes II] mother Parysatis. Regarding this iron he says that if it is thrust into the ground, it deflects thick clouds, hail, and storms. He claims that the king did this twice in his sight. (Indica §4)

The two texts have at least one element in common. In order to bring down rain or divert storms, the Great Kings had to drive a royal symbol (scepter, sword) into the ground as an apotropaic ritual. At one point, the texts of Polyaenus and Ctesias remind us of what Herodotus writes about certain religious customs of the Scythians. He recalls that, based on the model of the Persians, the Scythians do not erect cult statues, altars, or temples to their gods, except for Ares (IV.59), to whom the various Scythian tribes dedicate a sanctuary, a sort of platform with its height limited to the height of a tall heap of firewood. And Herodotus adds; "On the top of it is planted an ancient iron sword (akinakes), which serves for the image of Ares. Annual sacrifices of horses and other cattle are made to this sword" (IV.62*). Ares, in this case, is both the god of war and the god of storm. The relationship between the Great King and the storm is also attested in the founder legends. In Nicolaus of Damascus's version, the first encounters between Astyages' Medes and Cyrus's Persians took place in Persia, near Pasargadae, and turned to the disadvantage of the latter, who were soon besieged on a mountain. Cyrus then made his way to the his parents' goatherds' house and made a sacrifice in the courtyard:

On a base of cypress and laurel trunks he sacrificed barley flour, and he started the fire by friction, in the manner of a poor man with no equipment. Soon, from the right, came lightning and thunder: Cyrus did obeisance [proskynesis]. Then, landing on the house, birds (of prey) of good augury appeared, whereupon Cyrus departed for Pasargadae. Then they organized a great meal and stationed themselves on the mountain. The next day, made confident by these birds, they descended toward the enemies at the same time the enemies were ascending toward the summit, and they fought long, vigorously, and courageously. 

To renew the courage of his troops, then, it appears that Cyrus prayed to the storm-god, who legitimated Cyrus's ability as commander-in-chief by manifesting himself to all.

Finally, let us mention the legend of the origin of Mithradates. Plutarch records that a storm broke over his cradle when he was a newborn. The baby's swaddling clothes were burned by a thunderbolt, but the child was safe and sound, though he was left with an indelible mark on his forehead from the lightning. This divine sign in itself qualified him to be king.”

- Pierre Briant, From Cyrus to Alexander: A History of the Persian Empire. Translated by Peter T. Daniels. Winona Lake, Indiana: Eisenbrauns, 2002. pp. 232-240.

[aenreth]

Xerxes I – Artabanus of Persia / Darius – Artaxerxes I