Alexander the Great?
Parmenion's Subversive Letters to Philotas

Deciphered and Translated by Rabbi Ben Scolnic

Edited with Introduction by Altay Coskun

September-October 2024

Not long ago, Rabbi Ben’s quiet study in his private library was interrupted by the loud, shrieking, and insistent ringing of his telephone. As usual, Ben was rather irritated about this interruption, as he was right in the flow of researching for a new commentary on the Book of Daniel. Nothing could be more important, especially now that he was completing his systematic enquiry into all the Median and Persian kings of the name Artaxerxes, one of whom had to be the father of the legendary Darius the Mede (Dan 9:1).

He had been stuck with this problem for many years, but when his friend Altay told him about his excitement of working on a new course on Alexander the Great and that he was eager to retrace the Macedonians’ steps from Greece to India, Ben got a new idea. Previous scholarship had not taken into consideration Bessus, the perfidious satrap of Darius III, who killed his king soon after Alexander the Great’s victory at Gaugamela (Arbela) in 331 BCE and withdrew all the way up to Bactria and Sogdia to organize further resistance.

Map of the campaign of Alexander the Great. Source: Wikipedia.

From Prophthasia to Fort Belvoir

Ben was deeply immersed in a map of the Persian empire, following the trail of the Alexander campaign from Gaugamela over Babylon, Susa, Persepolis, back westwards to the ancient Median center Ecbatana (Hamadan), and then further north-east through Hyrcania, Parthia, Aria, Drangiana … His pointer finger was just reaching the city Alexander founded in October 330 BCE, endowed with the epithet Prophthasia, ‘Foresight’, now known as Farah in western Afghanistan. Right this moment, the disquieting phone began to ring annoyingly.

With a deep sigh, Ben left off the map. At once the faces of Alexander and his companions, which had gained so clear contours in his mind, faded away as in a desert storm. Duty was calling, and Ben was expecting one of his community members in need of his pastoral care. Yet the tone at the other end was neither familiar nor reverential, but firm and sharp.

“Are you Rabbi Ben Scolnic?”

“Yes”

“This is Major General Scott, US Army Intelligence and Security Command, Fort Belvoir. Cancel all your appointments for the next 48 hours. Be ready to be picked up in five minutes.”

Ben’s “But …” was no longer heard, and the monotonous busy signal was all that the telephone receiver had left for him. Ben was upset about what seemed to be an obvious prank. It was one of the moments where he regretted being a Rabbi, as it did not behoove him to find relief in loud ranting. Just mildly shaking his head, he went back to his study and was trying to resume Alexander’s trail. When he was eventually able to concentrate on the map, again, the doorbell rang – with the same insistence as the phone.

DLA Headquarters, Fort Belvoir, Virginia. Source: Wikipedia.

A few hours later, Ben was in his element, again. He was deeply immersed in studying these mysterious documents. It was quickly clear to him that those were ancient papyri, and he did not need long to recognize that the script was in fact an uneven, clumsy Greek cursive. Many of the letters could no longer be read with mere eyesight, but thanks to all the technical devices made available by Parker, single letters began to cluster themselves together to words, and even to names well known to Ben. The first of these was ΦΙΛΩΤΑ.

“Heureka,” Ben shouted out.

“What?” asked Parker impatiently. “Can you read it? Do you have the name of the conspirator?”

Ben ignored him and slowly read on, mumbling ΑΛΕΞΑΝΔΡΟΥ, then five minutes later ΦΙΛΙΠΠΟΣ.

Philotas’ Implication in the Conspiracy against Alexander

After reading on quietly for another half an hour, Ben stopped and took a deep breath before looking up into Parker’s wide-opened eyes. The deputy general was impatiently expecting news, though had understood that Ben was not the man who could be rushed.

“Indeed,” Ben said, “we here have documents that finally shed light on treason committed in Afghanistan. Yet it happened two and a half …”

Parker interrupted sharply: “… years ago – I know that already. Leave out the obvious details and give me names!”

“Well, the names are Philotas and Alexander, and I should add Parmenion. But I have to disappoint you: the conspiracy they were involved in happened nearly two and a half millennia ago.”

“What? Are you kidding me?” he shouted, losing his temper.

Ben replied with a big smile on his face: “Not at all. These are ancient Greek papyri, inscribed with secret and truly subversive letters that Parmenion, Alexander the Great’s commander-in-chief, wrote to his son Philotas.

Parmenion wrote them to caution his son, to be warned about the difficult nature and dangerous inclinations of the king. The earliest possible date was spring 334 BCE, when the Alexander brought reinforcements to the Macedonian army that had been operating under Parmenion in Asia Minor since 336 BCE. The letter (#2) that I am holding in my hands at least mentions the Granicus river, where Alexander and Parmenion defeated the Persian army together. The two major battles in which they defeated the Persian king Darius III took place at Issus in 333 BCE and at Gaugamela in 331 BCE.

330 BCE is the latest possible date for the composition of these documents, when Philotas, then the head of the royal guard, was arrested in Drangiana for ignoring information on a plot against Alexander. So far, historians have not believed that Philotas had anything to do with this conspiracy. But the king had him executed and also sent assassins to Ecbatana, where Parmenion commanded the rear guard. Alexander is often considered cruel and paranoid, and some accused him of using the incident as a pretext to get rid of the old general, who was holding him back on his path to glory. These documents here, however, shed new light on the events. Upon Philotas’ arrest, his tent must have been searched and probably this subversive correspondence was found.

The secret reflections of Parmenion were more dangerous than daggers, against which Alexander could well defend himself more easily. But if his most trusted men were publicly exposed as mocking the idleness of their king, who loved to present himself as being on a divine mission, not bound by law or tradition, this could shatter the morale of his army and lead to disaster. Alexander liquidated the real threat that there was to his safety and thanked the gods for betraying the two overlapping conspiracies to him. In his notorious vanity, he built a fortress on the spot of the camp where it all happened, naming it Alexandria ‘Foresight’.

Citadel of Alexander the Great in Farah, Afganistan. Source: Wikipedia.

 Parker was silent, humbled by what he thought was a failure of his mission. But then Ben comforted him: “Yet there is also good luck in ‘Hindsight’, as the warnings against self-absorbed rulers who put their reputation above the well-being of their people are as pertinent today as they were thousands of years ago. So, I shall continue to translate these letters, and since they are past the detention period, I kindly request permission to make them available to the public.”

And here they are.

  • May the gods grant you health and strength, dearest Philotas.

    There is much more than good wishes, news from home or reports from our anabasis that I would like to share with you, my son. Treat it with the utmost discretion!

    Someday, the historians will argue about many of the events of Alexander’s life, and their arguments will go on forever without decision. The reason is that the different accounts are developing now, in my time. I cannot do anything with my version because no matter how much pride I have in my achievements, I must defer to Alexander’s need for ever-increasing renown and grandeur. Far be it for me to diminish his glory. Indeed, it would be dangerous to do so, as glory fills his head.

    I recently heard that he became angry when he saw an account of the day he was born. The historian wrote that on that propitious day, Philip captured Potidaea, learned that I had defeated the Illyrians, heard that his racehorse was victorious in the Olympic Games, and was told that Alexander had been born. Alexander demanded that his birth be reported before my victory, no matter the order Philip received the different dispatches. I am a little surprised that he does not claim to have ridden the victorious racehorse that very day.

    For certain men, no glory can ever be enough. It is like a rich man who has so much money and property that he will never be able to use it all, but he still wants more.

    I once had a conversation with Alexander when we were both quite drunk, and we started talking about Ares. I said that Ares gets very little attention in our worship and stories, and I wondered why, considering how war is the way of the world. Alexander, as drunk as he was, talked about Ares in Homer. He said there is only one reference to Ares in the Odyssey, but there are some in the Iliad, where he fights fiercely but is clearly not as powerful as Zeus or Athena.

    I asked again: “Why isn’t Ares a greater god when humans are consumed with fighting?”

    He stopped drinking and became almost sober for a moment. He stared at me and said, “I know the answer. Humans do not want to ascribe our victories to Ares, for we want the glory for ourselves.”

    And I said, “Your majesty, perhaps you are Ares.”

    He smiled in a way I had never seen him smile before.

    As for me, I am the greatest general of first Philip and now Alexander. I think a great deal about Philip these days. There would be no great Alexander without the great Philip, without the father’s victories in Greece and his plans for Asia. And Alexander, someplace inside him, knows it, and I think this is the inner force that drives him, to actually be greater than his father.

    At any rate, here I am, and should I not be satisfied with my role in life? If in these accounts, I become a kind of old foil for the young hero, then this is another of my roles. For I will only be remembered because of him. And I will be remembered forever.

    And yet I must admit to some frustration when I hear my deeds obscured, so I will use these letters, though I am unsure if they will ever be seen or become part of the discussion.

  • You asked me about the destruction of Persepolis and whether it is true that I asked Alexander not to do it. Yes, I told him that now that he had conquered it, it was his property. He rejected my advice and told me it was revenge on Persia for things they had done in past history. (cf. Arrian Anab. 3.19.11)

    But is that what all of this was about? What about what Isocrates had said, that was echoed more recently by Callisthenes, that Alexander should remember Greece. It was for Greece that this whole expedition of conquest set out, to add Asia to Greece (cf. Arrian Anab. 4.11.7).

    As I saw the flames of Persepolis, I saw a kind of vision in the flames. I know now that Alexander will conquer as far as he wants, to the ends of the world, that he will burn and destroy everything in his path, that no one else will ever stop him. No, no one else. He will destroy himself. He will squander everything. This is what happens when we forget what I call our Purpose.

    I heard a story once about a general who was captured with many of his men. His captors saw that he and his men were skilled, and so they ordered them to build a bridge. The bridge would help the enemy conquer the general’s land. Though his soldiers complained, he set them to work, and they built a fine bridge. It was as if the general was in a trance, so committed to the task at hand that he forgot who he was. He took pride in the solid work his men were doing. Only when the bridge was finished and he saw the enemy crossing the bridge in big numbers, on their way to conquering his homeland, he awakened from his trance. But it was too late.

    Alexander is in his own self-induced trance, but I fear that he will not wake up until he has destroyed himself and all of us with him.

    Farewell, my son.

  • ...