bout de papier, Vol. 26, No. 2 (2011) — Fall/Winter 2011 // Automne/Hiver 2011, pp. 13–16
Editor’s Note: Long-time contributor to bout, Roger Lucy, is fasci on the epic siege of Troy, an Aegean neighbour of the almost forgoi the University of Toronto has been excavating in Antakya, Turkey « also Bronze Age. Lucy informs us that, seen from the distant Hittite ‘Troy than a pretty face; Harrison shares word of kings, lions and I two “usually reliable sources”!
by Roge
We all know the tale, be it from Homer or Hollywood. Troy (also known as Ilios) was a prosperous state on the Asiatic shore of the Dardanelles (Hellespont). Its king, Priam, had several sons including Hector, a hero, and Paris (also known as Alexander), a wastrel. One day Paris was hanging out, when three goddesses, Hera, Athene and Aphrodite (Juno, Minerva and Venus), appeared and asked him to act as judge in a contest as to who was the most beautiful. The divas reinforced their claims to the title with inducements. Hera offered wealth — but as a wastrel prince, Paris had plenty of that; Athene offered wisdom — but Paris had never seen any need for that; Aphrodite offered him the heart of the most beautiful woman in the world (herself excepted, but — as mother to his cousin Aeneas — she was, in effect, family). This offer Paris could not refuse, and Aphrodite got the prize — a golden apple.
Aphrodite could not directly deliver on her side of the bargain. The lady in question, Helen, lived across the Aegean in Sparta, and was already married to its king, Menelaus. That said, Aphrodite’s family connections with the Trojan court allowed her to pull a few strings to have her step-nephew Paris appointed as head of an embassy to Sparta, where — as Goddess of Love — she ensured that, on Paris’ arrival in Sparta, Helen fell head over heels for him. The two eloped, an action Menelaus deemed incompatible with Paris’ diplomatic status. He demanded that Priam extradite Paris and Helen. Priam by no means approved of his son’s actions, but secure in the “topless towers of Ilion”, rejected the request. The wronged Menelaus — who only held the Spartan throne by virtue of his marriage to Helen — then called on his brother and overlord Agamemnon, High King of Achaea, for justice. Agamemnon assembled a coalition of the (sometimes less than) willing from his vassals, gathering a fleet of 1,000 ships — which Homer lovingly catalogued in hexametre verse — and sailed to Troy. Unfortunately, siege technology 3,200 years ago was not well developed, and far from shocking and awing the Trojans, the Greeks could do little but attempt to blockade Troy, plundering the environs and beating off Trojan sallies and the relief efforts by Troy’s allies. Finally Odysseus (Ulysses) came up with a cunning plan — the Trojan Horse. The result is well known. Troy fell, was sacked and its people were slain — Paris among them — enslaved, or fled with Aeneas to Italy to become proto- Romans. Helen went home with Menelaus. Needless to say, the reputation of the diplomatic profession has never quite recovered from the actions of one of its first practitioners.
The core of this story was set down by Homer 500 years after the alleged events, and has often been dismissed as myth. That there might be truth behind the legend began to emerge in
Karatepe: southwest gate cavalry Storm god of the Hatti the late 19th century, when Heinrich Schliemann dug up a site reputed to be Troy — to discover a late Bronze Age citadel with signs of violent destruction. Archaeology, including discoveries of ancient tablets and inscriptions, has since revealed a world of great power rivalries, centering on the Hittites — who dominated Anatolia — and their neighbours. Troy, controlling the lucrative trade routes between the Mediterranean and the Black Sea was one source of contention. Schliemann and later archaeologists also went on to discover two other virtually unknown civilizations, the Minoans centred on Knossos in Crete, and their Greek-speaking successors, whom we call the Mycenaeans, after Agamemnon’s citadel. However — like Homer — they probably called themselves Achaeans, or Danae. Versions of both names also occur in Hittite and Egyptian texts.
Recent excavations have shown that Troy was far more than an impressive citadel. It had an extensive lower town and was clearly a commercial centre of some importance and considerable wealth. Its strategic site allowed it to extract a rich revenue in harbour and customs dues from ships passing between the Mediterranean and the Black Sea. Troy had long been a satellite of the powerful Hittite empire and its fall coincided with a series of major upheavals which convulsed the eastern Mediterranean in the 12th century BCE, sweeping away the Hittites, Mycenaeans, many city states of the Levant and even threatening Egypt’s overthrow. The Egyptians called these invaders the Peoples of the Sea. Egyptian depictions of their ships and warriors, references to some of them coming from Crete, and remains of Mycenaean pottery throughout the affected regions indicate a strong Greek presence among them — although whether this presence was the cause or an effect of the fall of Mycenaean Greece is not known. Other groups heavily involved in the overthrow of the Hittite empire and city states of northern Syria were the Phrygians from the Balkans, and the Luvians, a people from western and southern Anatolia, related to the Hittites.
In the 13th century BCE, the stylus and clay tablets were the main writing materials. Unlike paper records, which are destroyed when cities go up in flames, clay is baked and preserved by fire. The burnt archives of Syrian city states, such as Ugarit, contain drafts of unsent pleas for help as the invaders descended. Inventories, likewise “cast in stone” by the burning of Mycenaean centres such as Pylos or Knossos, also seem to indicate some sort of mobilization was taking place. Archives found at the site of the Hittite capital of Hattusa, alas, are silent on the circumstances which overwhelmed their empire. However, extensive diplomatic records have been recovered from the site (both in the form of treaty texts and correspondence) which throw light on the international situation in the century or so leading up to the catastrophe. They contain tantalizing references to names which bear a close resemblance to those found in Homer such as Ilios, Troy, Alexander and
Achaea. Increasingly it appears that both Troy and Achaea were significant concerns to the Hittites.
In the 13th century BCE there were essentially four other great powers whose rulers the Great King of Hatti (as the Hittites called their empire) deemed worthy to address as “my Brother”: Egypt — whose influence ran from Khartoum to Tripolis; Babylon and Assyria in Iraq; and Achaea — centered on southern Greece and the Aegean. Unlike the largely centralized Egyptian state, the Hittite Empire was a confederacy based in central Anatolia with a peripheral network of vassals extending west to the Aegean, north-east into present-day Armenia, east into the upper Euphrates and Tigris valleys, and south into northern Syria. These vassals were bound by a network of marriage alliances and treaties. There is a growing consensus that the Hittite names for one of these vassals, “Wilusa”, and the district in which it was located, “Taruwisa”, correspond to Ilios and Troy. Archaic Greek had a “W” sound, which most Greek dialects had lost by Homer’s time. However, many of Homer’s references to Ilios only scan poetically if the “W” is voiced, i.e. as “Wilios”. This may indicate that, in composing the Iliad, Homer incorporated some much earlier oral material, dating back even to Mycenaean times.
Wilusa was the most northerly of a group of western Anatolian states called the Arzawa Confederacy. Wilusa had fallen under Hittite suzerainty around 1600 BCE, and while the other Arzawa states had been lax in their alliance to Hatti, the kings of Wilusa had, according to a surviving treaty between Muwattalli I, Great King of Hatti (1290-1272 BCE) and Alaksandu King of Wilusa, maintained their loyalty. As a consequence, Muwattalli II undertook to shore up Alaksandu’s dynasty. The similarity between the Wilusan king’s name — Alaksandu — and Paris’ alternate name — Alexander — does not mean they are one and the same. The treaty predates the traditional date of the Trojan war (and the archaeological date of the destruction of Troy VID by over a century. However epic poetry does have way of collapsing chronologies. (In the Old English poem Widsith, the hero boasts of his employment by numerous Germanic kings, located as far apart as England and the Ukraine and ranging in time from the 3rd to the 6th centuries AD.)
The treaty with Wilusa follows much the same formula as other treaties with Hittite vassal states. The treaties are personal and not inter-state agreements — concluded between the two kings and renewed after a succession. They begin with a preamble giving the historical background to their relations; no doubt these reflect the Hittite version of events, and may be a bit free with the facts. (A somewhat later treaty between Hattusili II (1265-1240) and Ramses II of Egypt concluding 20 years of war blithely claims that Hatti and Egypt had always been at peace). Hittite/Wilusan relations reportedly stretched so far back that the name of the Great King who concluded the first treaty was no longer known. In the treaty Muwattalli II then promised Alaksandu that he would keep him on the throne and support his designated successor. (This clause was, in fact, honoured a generation or so later by Tudhaliya III (1240-1214), when a successor of Alaksandu’s, Walmu, was overthrown.) There follow largely boiler-plate defensive and offensive alliance clauses. Alaksandu promised to provide troops and chariots both when Hatti went to war with a major power (such as Egypt or Babylon) or with any of the tribes of western or northern Anatolia. He also pledged to intervene if one of the other Arzawa states rebelled (Muwattalli II notes that the people of Alaksandu’s Arzawan neighbours are treacherous) or if there was a coup or internal revolt within the core Hittite lands. Alaksandu also undertook to resist any invasions of his territory and to write immediately to the Hittite king if he learnt of any plots against him or Hittite rule. Alaksandu was obliged to return any political refugees or escaped PoWs, as well as any peasants or craftsman absconding from Hatti. On this, however, Hatti was not bound to reciprocate — “It is not permitted to give a fugitive back from Hatti.” (In fact, in the treaty between Hattusili II and Ramses II, the Hittite King did agree to return Egyptian fugitives.)
Alaksandu was required to have the treaty read out to him three times a year as a reminder of his obligations. The treaty concluded with a long list of “oath gods” — Hittite, Wilusan and international who were guarantors of its terms including: the Storm God of Hatti, various other storm gods, war gods and tutelary gods, Hebat Queen of Heaven, Ishara Queen of the Oath, the god of the hunting bag, the mercenary gods, the god of Wilusa’s underground watercourse (recent excavations have indeed uncovered a subterranean aqueduct, built possibly 1500 years earlier) and many others. If Alaksandu observed the treaty, these gods — and the Great King of Hatti — would ensure that he prospered and grew old, but: “If you Alaksandu transgress the words which stand on this tablet then these thousand gods will destroy you, together with. your wife, your sons, your lands, your towns,…your possessions and erase your seed from the dark earth.” Now that’s legally binding language!
Unlike with some clients, no obligation is placed on Alaksandu to pay tribute or provide regular troops to the Hittite army. Some treaties involved a marriage alliance, with the client king marrying a Great King’s daughter or sister. In such cases the Great King was oblivious to Trudeau’s dictum about the state having no place in the bedroom. The Hittite princess was to become the client king’s sole wife. (Existing wives were dismissed or demoted to concubines.) One client king from present-day Armenia, whose culture may have had a very broad interpretation of droit de seigneur, was told very bluntly that he must not harbour any sexual designs on his Hittite wife’s sisters and above all, when visiting Hattusas, he must avoid any contact with palace women. He was reminded that his predecessor, who ignored this protocol, had paid the supreme penalty.
Only one letter between the Great King of Hatti and the King of the Achaeans (“Achiyawa” in Hittite) has been identified. Sometime in the mid 13th century, Hattusili II wrote to an Achaean king (his name, unfortunately, is lost, but his brother had an unambiguously Greek name) to complain about the actions of one Pijamaradu, a marauder who was using Millawada (Miletos) — an Achaean outpost on the south-west coast of Asia Minor — as a base from which to raid the territories of Hatti’s vassals along the Aegean coast. These activities had been tolerated by the Achaean king, because of past disputes with Hatti. Pijamaradu’s depredations had included raids on Lesbos and Wilusa. He had carried off craftsmen, whom he handed over to his brother-in-law Atpa, the Achaean king’s representative in Millawada. One of Hattusili II’s vassals had persuaded Atpa to return those captives who had belonged to the Hittite crown. Hattusili II, noting that “…a war would not be good for us”, asked his Achaean “brother” to persuade Pijamaradu to settle somewhere on the mainland of Achaea and bother Hatti no more. Unfortunately, any improvement in Hittite/Achaean relations did not last. In the following reign, Tudhaliya HI required his vassals
Karatepe: northeast gate chariot along the Levantine coast to enforce a trade embargo on goods from passing between Achaea and Assyria. As a land power, there was little Hatti could do about maritime depredations by Achaea or its surrogates. However, there is evidence that, around this time, Millawada fell under Hittite control.
While the Hittite texts translated so far are silent on an actual Achaean attack on Troy/Wilusa, the city did succumb to a siege (perhaps more than once). Aside from Pijamaradu’s raid there are other signs of Achaean interest in Wilusa. Excavated Mycenaean pottery indicates active trade links. Other contacts were less peaceful. Inventories preserved from the Mycenaean town of Pylos include numerous slaves taken from the Asian coast of the Aegean, including “To-ro-ya”, i.e. Trojan women. That Alaksandu had a Greek — not an Anatolian — name, and that his throne and his succession needed special guarantees from the Hittite king, may indicate he came by it less than legitimately. Recent archaeological research indicates that Troy, then at the height of its wealth, suffered a major earthquake in the mid 13th century BCE and subsequently was sacked. It has been speculated that the Achaeans seized Wilusa to compensate for the loss of Millawada. This may explain the plight of one of Alaksandu’s successors, Walmu, and the need for Tudhaliya III to intervene to restore him. Wilusa never quite recovered. Around 1180, it was sacked again, amidst the chaos that engulfed the both the Mycenaean and Hittite civilizations.
Indeed perhaps the fall of Wilusa left the door open to the Phrygian invaders, coming from the Balkans, who helped precipitate the fall of Hatti.
As noted earlier, chronology is not one of epic poetry’s strong points (although Greek legends do refer to an earlier sack of Troy led by Hercules). However, it seems increasingly clear that Homer has dimly preserved a tradition of Achaean assault(s) on Wilusa. Scholars have also deduced from his “Catalogue of Ships” that Homer is describing the political geography of a Greek world as it existed in the 12th century BCE, not that of his own day. If so, the geography was very one-sided, as neither Homer, nor any who later expanded on his epic, ever mentioned the Hittites, even though they dominated the region at that time. Even more than the Mycenaeans, they have vanished from Western memory. Not until the late 19th century did the Hittites’ central role in the late Bronze Age reemerge. Yet, even now, it is not the rediscovered glories of Hattusa, and a wealth of documentation chronicling Hittite power, that seize our imagination, but the elopement of Helen and Paris. It is Helen’s face which launched those thousand ships, not some Achaean power-play to outflank the Hittite Empire.
Roger Lucy is a retired Foreign Service Officer who has contributed a number of articles on ancient diplomacy to bout. He is currently writing the definitive work on the Canadian Ram tank.
View the original scanned pages →
Originally published in bout de papier, Vol. 26, No. 2 (2011) — Fall/Winter 2011 // Automne/Hiver 2011, pp. 13–16. Read the rest of this issue →
