Caria and Crete in Antiquity: Cultural Interaction Between Anatolia and the Aegean 9781107194175, 9781108151801, 2017008194, 2392403918

A persistent tradition existed in antiquity linking Caria with the island of Crete. This central theme of regional histo

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Caria and Crete in Antiquity: Cultural Interaction Between Anatolia and the Aegean
 9781107194175, 9781108151801, 2017008194, 2392403918

Table of contents :
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Contents
List of Figures
List of Maps
Preface
A Note on Transliteration and Translation
List of Abbreviations
Introduction: Approaching the Topic of Carian– Cretan Interaction
The Carian–Cretan Connection
Caria and Crete in the Maritime Itineraries of the Mediterranean
The Labrys and the Labyrinth
Network Formation and Cultural Exchange
Approaching Carian– Cretan Interaction
1 Articulating a ‘Carian’ Identity
‘The Carians of Barbarian Speech’
Language and Identity
Delimiting ‘Caria’ and the ‘Carians’
2 The Role of Crete in the Mythologies, Local Histories and Cults of Caria
Ancient Engagement with the Past
Sarpedon, Miletos and Kaunos
The ‘Minoan’ Ports of Anatolia
The Krētinaion of Magnesia-on-the-Maeander
The Carian Kouretes
Reading Mythological Traditions
3 The Case of Miletos: Archaeology and Mythology
The Processes of Transmission and the Question of Origins
Late Bronze Age Miletos
Minoan and Mycenaean Contacts with Southwestern Anatolia
Western Anatolia in the Hittite Sources
Caria on the Interface
Miletos: Continuities and Innovation
4 Interaction and the Reception of the Cretan Connection during the Hellenistic Period
Tracing Interaction between Caria and Crete
The Cretan Decrees from Mylasa
Cretan Diplomacy and Cretan Piracy
Contextualising the Mylasan Inscriptions
The Role of the Past in Diplomatic Discourse
5 Inscribing History at Magnesia-on-the-Maeander: Civic Engagement with the Past
Inscribing History
The Civic Context of the ‘Origin Myth’
Shaping the Past
6 A ‘Cretan-Born’ Zeus in Caria: Religious Mobility between Caria and Crete
The Evidence
Dynastic Influence vs. Local Dynamics
The Constitutional Reforms at Euromos
Interaction and Religious Mobility
Interpreting the Carian Cults of Zeus Kretagenes/Kretagenetas
Concluding Remarks
Appendix 1: I. Magnesia 17
Appendix 2: The ‘Cretan Dossier’ of Mylasa
References
Index

Citation preview

This central theme of regional history is mirrored in the civic mythologies, cults and toponyms of southwestern Anatolia. This book explains why by approaching this diverse body of material with a broad chronological view, taking into account both the origins of this regional narrative and its endurance. It considers the mythologies in the light of archaeologically attested contacts during the Bronze Age, exploring whether such interaction could have left a residuum in considered in the light of contacts during the Classical and Hellenistic periods, with analysis of how, and in which contexts, traditions survived. The Carians were an Anatolian people; however, their integration into the mythological framework of the Greek world reveals that interaction with the Aegean was a fundamental Unwin. 9781107194175. Jkt. C M Y K

aspect of their history. Naomi Carless Unwin is a Research Fellow at the Center for Hellenic Studies at Harvard University. She has been involved for many years in the archaeological excavations at the sanctuary of Labraunda in Caria, focusing particularly on the epigraphy of the site.

Printed in the United Kingdom

Cover illustration: Woodcut illustration to an unidentified Latin edition of Sebastian Münster, ‘Cosmographia’, c.1544–52. © British Museum

Caria and Crete in Antiquity

later traditions. The continued relevance of this aspect of Carian history is then

Carless Unwin

A persistent tradition existed in antiquity linking Caria with the island of Crete.

Caria and Crete in Antiquity Cultur al Inter action between Anatolia and the Aegean Naomi Carless Unwin

i

Caria and Crete in Antiquity

A persistent tradition existed in antiquity linking Caria with the island of Crete. This central theme of regional history is mirrored in the civic mythologies, cults and toponyms of southwestern Anatolia. This book explains why by approaching this diverse body of material with a broad chronological view, taking into account both the origins of this regional narrative and its endurance. It considers the mythologies in the light of archaeologically attested contacts during the Bronze Age, exploring whether such interaction could have left a residuum in later traditions. The continued relevance of this aspect of Carian history is then considered in the light of contacts during the Classical and Hellenistic periods, with analysis of how, and in which contexts, traditions survived. The Carians were an Anatolian people; however, their integration into the mythological framework of the Greek world reveals that interaction with the Aegean was a fundamental aspect of their history. NAOMI CARLESS UNWIN is a Research Fellow at the Center for Hellenic Studies at Harvard University. She has been involved for many years in the archaeological excavations at the sanctuary of Labraunda in Caria, focusing particularly on the epigraphy of the site.

iii

Caria and Crete in Antiquity Cultural Interaction between Anatolia and the Aegean

Naomi C a rl e s s   Un w i n

University Printing House, Cambridge CB2 8BS, United Kingdom One Liberty Plaza, 20th Floor, New York, NY 10006, USA 477 Williamstown Road, Port Melbourne, VIC 3207, Australia 4843/24, 2nd Floor, Ansari Road, Daryaganj, Delhi – 110002, India 79 Anson Road, #06-04/06, Singapore 079906 Cambridge University Press is part of the University of Cambridge. It furthers the University’s mission by disseminating knowledge in the pursuit of education, learning, and research at the highest international levels of excellence. www.cambridge.org Information on this title: www.cambridge.org/9781107194175 DOI: 10.1017/9781108151801 © Naomi Carless Unwin 2017 This publication is in copyright. Subject to statutory exception and to the provisions of relevant collective licensing agreements, no reproduction of any part may take place without the written permission of Cambridge University Press. First published 2017 Printed in the United Kingdom by Clays, St Ives plc A catalogue record for this publication is available from the British Library. Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Names: Unwin, Naomi Carless, 1985– author. Title: Caria and Crete in antiquity : cultural interaction between Anatolia and the Aegean / Naomi Carless Unwin. Description: Cambridge, United Kingdom; New York, NY : Cambridge University Press, 2017. | Includes bibliographical references and index. Identifiers: LCCN 2017008194 | ISBN 9781107194175 (hardback: alk. paper) Subjects: LCSH: Caria – History. | Crete (Greece) –History. | Caria – Relations – Greece – Crete. | Crete (Greece) – Relations – Turkey – Caria. Classification: LCC DS156.C33 U59 2017 | DDC 303.48/2392403918–dc23 LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2017008194 ISBN 978-1-107-19417-5 Hardback Cambridge University Press has no responsibility for the persistence or accuracy of URLs for external or third-party internet websites referred to in this publication and does not guarantee that any content on such websites is, or will remain, accurate or appropriate.

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To my parents

vi

Contents

List of Figures page [ix] List of Maps [x] Preface [xi] A Note on Transliteration and Translation [xiv] List of Abbreviations [xv]

Introduction: Approaching the Topic of Carian–Cretan Interaction [1] The Carian–Cretan Connection [2] Caria and Crete in the Maritime Itineraries of the Mediterranean [8] The Labrys and the Labyrinth [16] Network Formation and Cultural Exchange [25] Approaching Carian–Cretan Interaction [29]

1 Articulating a ‘Carian’ Identity

[32]

‘The Carians of Barbarian Speech’ [34] Language and Identity [42] Delimiting ‘Caria’ and the ‘Carians’ [51]

2 The Role of Crete in the Mythologies, Local Histories and Cults of Caria [61] Ancient Engagement with the Past [62] Sarpedon, Miletos and Kaunos [66] The ‘Minoan’ Ports of Anatolia [73] The Krētinaion of Magnesia-on-the-Maeander The Carian Kouretes [81] Reading Mythological Traditions [88]

[76]

3 The Case of Miletos: Archaeology and Mythology

[91]

The Processes of Transmission and the Question of Origins [92] Late Bronze Age Miletos [98] Minoan and Mycenaean Contacts with Southwestern Anatolia [104] Western Anatolia in the Hittite Sources [112] Caria on the Interface [117] Miletos: Continuities and Innovation [119]

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viii

Contents

4 Interaction and the Reception of the Cretan Connection during the Hellenistic Period [124] Tracing Interaction between Caria and Crete [124] The Cretan Decrees from Mylasa [137] Cretan Diplomacy and Cretan Piracy [149] Contextualising the Mylasan Inscriptions [155] The Role of the Past in Diplomatic Discourse [160]

5 Inscribing History at Magnesia-on-the-Maeander: Civic Engagement with the Past [169] Inscribing History [169] The Civic Context of the ‘Origin Myth’ Shaping the Past [180]

[177]

6 A ‘Cretan-Born’ Zeus in Caria: Religious Mobility between Caria and Crete [189] The Evidence [190] Dynastic Influence vs. Local Dynamics [193] The Constitutional Reforms at Euromos [197] Interaction and Religious Mobility [200] Interpreting the Carian Cults of Zeus Kretagenes/Kretagenetas [205]

Concluding Remarks [209] Appendix 1: I. Magnesia 17 [213] Appendix 2: The ‘Cretan Dossier’ of Mylasa [217] References [231] Index [258]

ix

Figures

1 2 3 4 5

6 7 8

Carian letter forms. Table and fonts: I.J. Adiego page [3] Tetradrachm of Maussollos, fourth century bc . Photograph © The Trustees of the British Museum [17] Excavations at Labraunda, 1948. Photograph: Labraunda Archive [19] Dedication of Andron B by Maussollos at Labraunda, fourth century bc. Photograph: P. Hellström [47] Silver obol from Halikarnassos, fifth century bc , depicting the forepart of Pegasos. Photograph © The Trustees of the British Museum [55] Marble block inscribed with I. Mylasa 661 and 662. Photograph: W. Blümel [143] Fragment of a block inscribed with I. Mylasa 657. Photograph: W. Blümel [144] Squeeze of I. Magnesia 20. Inscriptiones Graecae, Berlin. Author’s photograph [179]

ix

Maps

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9

x

Map of the Aegean page [9] Map of Caria in the Hellenistic period [35] Western Anatolia in the Late Bronze Age [106] Bronze Age Anatolia [114] Map of Crete [126] Distribution of Cretan grants of proxenia in the Aegean [130] Distribution of Cretan grants of proxenia in the Mediterranean [130] Map of the region around Mylasa and the ‘Little Sea’ [139] Map of the region around Miletos and Magnesia-on-the-Maeander [184]

xi

Preface

Identifying what it meant to be ‘Carian’ in the ancient world continues to both excite interest and elude easy answers. In this book, I seek to shed light on one aspect of this topic, with an investigation into how the inhabitants of Caria interacted with their neighbours and participated in the wider social and cultural networks of the Aegean. In particular, I want to explore the connections, both mythological and historical, between Caria and the island of Crete, and consider how the involvement of the Carians in the networks of the Aegean was an intrinsic aspect of their history. The roots of my interest in the history and culture of Caria date back to a trip along the south Aegean coast in September 2002. I was struck both by the distinctive landscape and geology of the region, and by the idiosyncrasies of its archaeology. As an undergraduate student, the complexities of categorising Caria and the Carians was intriguing; it was familiar to the Greek world and yet distinct. It was as a direct result of this experience that I pursued Carian studies during my master’s, and, with the encouragement of Riet van Bremen, developed the topic further during my doctorate. I have since visited Caria a number of times, travelling along the fertile Maeander valley and its tributaries, and tackling the winding roads of the Bodrum and Datça peninsulas. The natural entanglement of Caria with the sea is striking. The islands of the Dodekanese are clearly visible from the coastal regions of Caria, and on a clear day it is possible to spot the sea from the inland sanctuary of Labraunda. The history of the Carians is often considered as somehow parallel to that of their Greek neighbours, and within Greek narratives they are frequently characterised as ‘barbarians’. But geographically, their worlds were entwined: the social and cultural landscape of Caria was shaped by its interaction with the Aegean, and vice versa, in the longue durée. It is my intention here to restore a Carian perspective in regional discourses, especially in relation to how the communities of southwestern Anatolia framed their relationship with Crete and other islands of the Aegean. This book is a revised version of my University College London DPhil dissertation, examined in December 2012. Many people have helped in the xi

xii

Preface

long process of transforming that thesis into its current form. First and foremost, I would like to thank Riet van Bremen for her patience and precision as a supervisor, and for her continued guidance since the completion of the doctorate. The two examiners, Christy Constantakopoulou and Alexander Herda, provided much useful feedback and advice when it came to the publication process; the two anonymous readers at Cambridge University Press further helped me to remould and refine the structure of the monograph. Continued work on the book was made possible by a Fernand Braudel IFER Postdoctoral Fellowship at the Labex RESMED in Paris (October 2013–July 2014)  and a Senior Fellowship at the Research Center for Anatolian Civilizations at Koç University in Istanbul (September 2014–June 2015); the final redrafting of the text was completed with the support of a joint research fellowship between the Deutsches Archäologisches Institut in Berlin and the Center for Hellenic Studies in Washington DC (2015/2016). I am grateful to all the staff at these institutions and to my fellow group of researchers, with whom I was able to share my work. My ongoing involvement in the archaeological excavations at Labraunda has been a constant source of inspiration in my research over the last seven years. I would like to extend my thanks to the entire team, but especially to Lars Karlsson for welcoming me to the excavation; to Pontus Hellström and Olivier Henry for their endless insights and continued patience in answering my archaeological questions; and to Baptiste Vergnaud for making sometimes difficult work enjoyable. Thanks of various kinds are also due to Hans van Wees, Simon Hornblower, Rosalind Thomas, Rostislav Oreshko, Filippo Battistoni, Alexander Millington and Ireen Kowalleck. Ignacio Adiego has generously allowed me to reproduce his table of Carian letter forms, for which I am extremely grateful; Pontus Hellström searched the Labraunda archive to provide some excellent photographs of the site and the early excavations. I must also extend my thanks to Wolfgang Blümel for allowing me to use his photographs of the inscriptions from Mylasa. Research trips to the Fonds Louis Robert in Paris and Inscriptiones Graecae in Berlin offered me the opportunity to study the squeezes of a number of the inscriptions discussed in the book; I thank Professor Glen Bowersock and Professor Klaus Hallof for granting me access to the collections, and Mme Béatrice Meyer and Jaime Curbera for their assistance in Paris and Berlin respectively. On a personal note, I would like to thank my friends and family for their ongoing encouragement and support, with special mention to Yannick, Ben, Alice and my sister Abbie; also to Laura and Esther. I am also grateful

xi

Preface

to Genevieve for first suggesting that we take a trip to Turkey, and to Patrick Finn for introducing me to the study of the ancient world. This book is dedicated to my parents, Jean Carless and Martin Unwin, whom I would like to thank for everything along the way.

xiii

A Note on Transliteration and Translation

The names of ancient authors have been transliterated in their Latinised versions; however, I have opted to transliterate other personal and geographical names in their Greek forms (Maussollos rather than Mausolus; Knidos and Halikarnassos rather than Cnidus and Halicarnassus). For the sake of clarity, I have made exceptions in certain cases where the Latinised versions are markedly more familiar in the English-speaking world; notably Caria and Crete, rather than Karia and Krete. All translations are taken from the Loeb Classical Library, with minor revisions where appropriate.

xiv

xv

Abbreviations

ABSA Achaïe 3

Ager Interstate Arbitrations

AhT AJA ala2004

AM Austin

Bagnall and Derow

BCH BE Beckman HDT BICS BMC Greek (Caria, Cos, Rhodes)

Annual of the British School at Athens. A.D. Rizakis, Achaïe III. Les inscriptions de cités achéennes. Épigraphie et histoire (Athens, 2008). S.L. Ager, Interstate Arbitrations in the Greek World, 337–90 bc (Berkeley and London, 1996). G.M. Beckman, T.R. Bryce and E.H. Cline, The Ahhiyawa Texts (Atlanta, GA, 2011). American Journal of Archaeology. C. Roueché (2004), Aphrodisias in Late Antiquity. The Late Roman and Byzantine Inscriptions, revised 2nd ed., available at http://insaph.kcl.ac.uk/ala2004. A. Goetze (1933), Die Annalen des Mursilis (MVAG 38) (Leipzig). M.M. Austin, The Hellenistic World from Alexander to the Roman Conquest: A Selection of Ancient Sources in Translation (Cambridge, 2nd ed. 2006). R.S. Bagnall and P. Derow (eds.), Historical Sources in Translation: The Hellenistic Period (Oxford, 2nd ed. 2004). Bulletin de Correspondence Hellénique Bulletin Épigraphique, publ. in Revue des Études Grecques. G.M. Beckman, Hittite Diplomatic Texts (Atlanta, GA, 1996). Bulletin of the Institute of Classical Studies. B.V. Head, Catalogue of the Greek Coins of Caria, Cos, Rhodes &c. (London, 1897). xv

xvi

Abbreviations

BMC Greek (Ionia) BMCR Bresson I. Pérée

Callimachus (Pfeiffer) CIG Clara Rhodos

CPG

CTH EA

EBGR FD 3

FGrH GIBM GRBS Letters from the Hittite Kingdom HTC

B.V. Head, Catalogue of the Greek Coins of Ionia (London, 1892). Bryn Mawr Classical Review, http://bmcr. brynmawr.edu. A. Bresson, Recueil des inscriptions de la Pérée rhodienne (Pérée intégrée) (Paris, 1991). R. Pfeiffer, Callimachus, I. Fragmenta (Oxford, 1949). Corpus Inscriptionum Graecarum (Berlin, 1845–53). Clara Rhodos. Studi e materiali pubblicati a cura dell’ Istituto storico-archeologico di Rodi. 10 vols. (Rhodes, 1928–41). E. von Leutsch and F.W. Schneidewin (eds.), Corpus Paroemiographorum Graecorum (Göttingen, 1839). E. Laroche, Catalogue des texts hittites (Paris, 1971). Epigraphica Anatolica. Zeitschrift für Epigraphik und historische Geographie Anatoliens. Epigraphic Bulletin of Greek Religion, in Kernos. G. Daux and A. Salac, Fouilles de Delphes, III. Epigraphie, 3. Depuis le trésor des Athéniens jusqu’aux bases de Géelon, 2 vols. (Paris, 1 (1932): nos. 1–178; 2 (1943): nos. 179–441). F. Jacoby, Die Fragmente der griechischen Historiker. Ancient Greek Inscriptions in the British Museum (Oxford, 1874–1916). Greek, Roman and Byzantine Studies. H.A. Hoffner, Letters from the Hittite Kingdom (Atlanta, GA, 2009). P. Debord and E. Varinlioğlu (eds.), Les hautes terres de Carie (Bordeaux, 2001).

xvi

Abbreviations

IAph2007

IC ID

IG I. Didyma I. Ephesos

I. Erythrai

I. Iasos

I. Kaunos I. Knidos I. Labraunda

I. Magnesia I. Mylasa

I. Priene1

J. Reynolds, C. Roueché and G. Bodard, Inscriptions of Aphrodisias (2007), available at: http://insaph.kcl.ac.uk/ iaph2007. M. Guarducci, Inscriptiones Creticae, 4 vols. (Rome, 1935–50). F. Dürrbach, P. Roussel, M. Launey, J. Coupry and A. Plassart (1926–73), Inscriptions de Délos, 7 vols. (Paris, VI [I] (1950): nos. 1–88; VII [2] (1972): nos. 89–104; I [III] (1926): nos. 290–371; II [IV] (1929): nos. 372–509; III [V] (1935): nos. 1400–1496; IV [VI] (1937): nos. 1497–2219; V [VII] (1937): nos. 2220–2879). Inscriptiones Graecae. A. Rehm and R. Harder, Didyma, II. Die Inschriften (Berlin, 1958). H. Wankel, Ch. Börker, R. Merkelbach, H. Engelmann, D. Knibbe, R. Meriç, S. Şahin and J. Nollé, Die Inschriften von Ephesos, 7 vols. Inschriften griechischer Städte aus Kleinasien 11–17 (Bonn, 1979–81). H. Engelmann and R. Merkelbach, Die Inschriften von Erythrai und Klazomenai, 2 vols. Inschriften griechischer Städte aus Kleinasien 1–2 (Bonn, 1972–3). W. Blümel, Die Inschriften von Iasos, 2 vols. Inschriften griechischer Städte aus Kleinasien 28/I and II (Bonn, 1985). C. Marek, Die Inschriften von Kaunos. Vestigia. Beiträge zur Alten Geschichte 55 (Munich, 2006). W. Blümel, Die Inschriften von Knidos. Inschriften griechischer Städte aus Kleinasien 41 (Bonn, 1992). J. Crampa (ed.), Labraunda: Swedish Excavations and Researches 3 (I and II): The Greek Inscriptions (Stockholm, 1969, 1972). O. Kern, Die Inschriften von Magnesia am Maeander (Berlin, 1900). W. Blümel (ed.), Die Inschriften von Mylasa, 2 vols. Inschriften griechischer Städte aus Kleinasien 34–5 (Bonn, 1987–88). F. Hiller von Gaertringen, Inschriften von Priene (Berlin, 1906).

xvii

xviii

Abbreviations

I. Priene2

I. Rhod. Per.

I. Stratonikeia

Iscr. di Cos JHS JNES JRS Kadesh Inscriptions KBo KUB Le Rider Monnaies LGPN VB

Lindos 2

Maiuri NSER Meiggs and Lewis

Milet 1. 3.

Milet 1. 7.

W. Blümel and R. Merkelbach (eds.), Die Inschriften von Priene. Inschriften griechischer Städte aus Kleinasien 69/I and II (Bonn, 2014). W. Blümel (ed.), Die Inschriften der Rhodischen Peraia. Inschriften griechischer Städte aus Kleinasien 38 (Bonn, 1991). M.Ç. Şahin (ed.), Die Inschriften von Stratonikeia. Inschriften griechischer Städte aus Kleinasien 21 and 22 (Bonn, 1981–82). M. Segre (ed.), Iscrizioni di Cos, 2 vols. (Rome, 1993). Journal of Hellenic Studies. Journal of Near Eastern Studies. Journal of Roman Studies. A. Gardiner, The Kadesh Inscriptions of Ramesses II (Oxford, 1960). Keilschrifttexte aus Boghazköi (Leipzig and Berlin). Keilschrifturkunden aus Boghazköi (Berlin). G. Le Rider, Monnaies crétoises du VIe au Ier siècle av. J.-C. (Paris, 1966). J.-S. Balzat, R.W.V. Catling, E. Chiricat and F. Marchand (eds.), A Lexicon of Greek Personal Names, VB. Coastal Asia Minor: Caria to Cilicia (Oxford, 2013). C. Blinkenberg, Lindos. Fouilles et recherches, 1902–1914, II. Inscriptions. 2 vols. (Copenhagen and Berlin, 1941). A. Maiuri, Nuova silloge epigrafica di Rodi e Cos (Florence, 1925). R. Meiggs and D. Lewis (eds.), A Selection of Greek Historical Inscriptions to the End of the Fifth Century bc (Oxford, 1969). G. Kawerau and A. Rehm, Milet. Ergebnisse der Ausgrabungen und Untersuchungen seit dem Jahre 1899, 1/3. Das Delphinion in Milet (Berlin, 1914). H. Knackfuss, mit epigraphischem Beitrag von A. Rehm, Milet. Ergebnisse der

xi

Abbreviations

Milet 6. 3.

NC P.Cair.Zen.

P.Col.Zen.

P. Lond.

P. Mich. Zen. PP PSI

REA REG Rhodes and Osborne Rigsby Asylia Robert and Robert Amyzon RPhil Sardis 6. 2.

Sardis 7. 1.

Ausgrabungen und Untersuchungen seit dem Jahre 1899, 1/7. Der Südmarkt und die benachbarten Bauanlagen (Berlin, 1924). P. Herrmann, W. Günther and N. Ehrhardt (eds.), Inschriften von Milet, 3. Inschriften n. 1020–1580 (Berlin, 2006). Numismatic Chronicle. C.C. Edgar (ed.), Zenon Papyri, Catalogue general des Antiquités égyptiennes du Musée du Cairo. 4 vols. (Cairo, 1925–31). W.L. Westermann and E. Sayre Hasenoehrl (eds.), Zenon Papyri. Business Papers of the Third Century B.C. Dealing with Palestine and Egypt. 2 vols. (New York, 1934–40). F.G. Kenyon and H.I. Bell (eds.), Greek Papyri in the British Museum (London, 1893–1917). C.C. Edgar (ed.), Papyri in the University of Michigan Collection (Ann Arbor, 1931). La Parola del Passato. Papiri greci e latini, Pubblicazioni della Società Italiana per la ricerca dei papyri greci e latini in Egitto. Revue des Études Anciennes. Revue des Études Grecques. P.J. Rhodes and R. Osborne, Greek Historical Inscriptions, 404–323 bc (Oxford, 2003). K.J. Rigsby, Asylia: Territorial Inviolability in the Hellenistic World (Berkeley, CA, 1996). J. Robert and L. Robert, Fouilles d’Amyzon en Carie, I. Exploration, histoire, monnaies et inscriptions (Paris, 1983). Revue de Philologie. W.H. Buckler, Sardis. Publications of the American Society for the Excavation of Sardis, VI. Lydian Inscriptions, part 2 (Leiden, 1924). W.H. Buckler and D.M. Robinson, Sardis. Publications of the American Society for the

xix

xx

Abbreviations

SEG SNG Copenhagen Caria

SNG Copenhagen Troas

SNG Keckman

SNG Turkey 1

TAM 2

TAM 3

TAM 5

Tit. Cam.

ZPE

Excavation of Sardis, VII. Greek and Latin Inscriptions, part 1 (Leiden, 1932). Supplementum Epigraphicum Graecum (Leiden). Sylloge Nummorum Graecorum. The Royal Collection of Coins and Medals. Danish National Museum. Caria, parts I and II (Copenhagen, 1947). Sylloge Nummorum Graecorum. The Royal Collection of Coins and Medals. Danish National Museum. Troas (Copenhagen, 1945). U. Westermark and R. Ashton, Sylloge Nummorum Graecorum. Finland. The Erkki Keckman Collection in the Skopbank, Helsinki, part 1. Karia (Helsinki, 1994). K. Konuk, Sylloge Nummorum Graecorum, Turkey, 1. The Muharrem Kayhan Collection (Istanbul and Bordeaux, 2002). E. Kalinka, Tituli Asiae Minoris II. Tituli Lyciae linguis Graeca et Latina conscripti. 3 vols. (Vienna, 1 (1920): nos. 1–395; 2 (1930): nos. 396–717; 3 (1944), nos. 718–1230). R. Heberdey, Tituli Asiae Minoris III. Tituli Pisidiae linguis Graeca et Latina conscripti (Vienna, 1941). P. Herrmann, Tituli Asiae Minoris V. Tituli Lydiae, linguis Graeca et Latina conscripti. 2 vols. (Vienna, 1981 and 1989). M. Segre and I. Pugliese Carratelli, ‘Tituli Camirenses’, Annuario della Scuola Archeologica di Atene a delle Missioni Italiane in Oriente 30–32 (1952–4): 211–246. Zeitschrift für Papyrologie und Epigraphik.

1

Introduction: Approaching the Topic of Carian–Cretan Interaction

The region of Caria in southwestern Anatolia was located on the interface between the Aegean and the Anatolian interior; its history was entwined with that of the islands and the Greek-speaking settlements of the Anatolian seaboard. This book will explore how the interrelationships between Caria and the Aegean are reflected in the local mythologies and historical traditions of the region. In particular, it will focus on a prominent and persistent element of regional mythology that linked Caria to the island of Crete. Several variants were transmitted in antiquity but, in its broadest outline, tradition held that the Carians had at one time inhabited the islands of the Aegean, where they were brought under the dominion of the Cretan king Minos during his reign as ‘master of the sea’; subsequently they were forced to migrate to the Anatolian mainland. Associated strands relating a Cretan link were preserved in a number of civic mythologies in southwestern Anatolia. The ways in which communities engaged with the past played an important role in how they conceived their identity and positioned themselves in relation to the wider world. The endurance of the Cretan link in Caria, and how it was mobilised in particular contexts, can reveal much about how the communities of the region oriented themselves towards the Aegean in the ancient world. The Anatolian origins of the Carians should not be elided in attempts to trace the history of the region, though the task of defining Caria culturally, ethnically or even geographically is itself not straightforward. The Carian language has now been identified as an Indo-European language of the ‘Luwic’ subgroup, marking the affiliation of the Carians to other linguistic groups of western Anatolia, including the Lycians.1 However, the point at which a sense of Carian regional identity emerged remains unclear. Certainly, a Carian contingent is identified in the Iliad fighting on the side of the Trojans, with their homeland in the region around Miletos; but this appears to be more geographically restricted than the region later defined as Caria.2 1 2

Adiego 2007: 4 with n. 3, 345–347. Cf. Melchert 2003d: 175–177. Hom. Il. 2. 867–871.

1

2

Introduction

The earliest attestations of the Carian language date to the late seventh/ sixth centuries bc, and derive predominantly from private contexts. As can be observed in Figure 1, the script shares a number of letter shapes with the Greek alphabet, though in many cases the sound values do not correspond to those of their Greek counterparts.3 During the fifth and fourth century bc, Carian was used for a limited number of public inscriptions and coin legends in southwestern Anatolia, though already at this time the majority of ‘official’ texts from the region were in Greek.4 Carian then disappears from the written record at some point in the Hellenistic period, with the assimilation of the Greek language in the official realm predating this in a number of communities. The widespread utility of the Carian language had thus declined by the period from which the majority of our epigraphic material derives. But this shift should not automatically be equated to the disappearance of any sense of ‘Carianness’. Identities were far from static, and the notion of being ‘Carian’ as a level of identification went through periods of both crystallisation and fragmentation. Any attempted reconstruction of what it meant to be Carian was context-dependent, and cannot be divorced from wider cultural dynamics. In this regard, sustained interaction between the inhabitants of Caria and their Greek-speaking neighbours should be regarded as a defining feature of Carian history and identity.

The Carian–Cretan Connection Herodotus is the earliest extant source for a link between Caria and Crete. In his account, the Carians had earlier inhabited the Aegean islands, at which time they were called Leleges, and fell under the rule of Minos, ‘not (as far as I can determine by hearsay) paying him tribute, but manning ships for him when he needed them’.5 As he continues: ‘seeing then that Minos had subdued much territory to himself and was victorious in war, this made the Carian ethnos at that time by far

3

4 5

Adiego 2013a. A number of cities in Caria possessed their own variants of the alphabet, suggesting that there was a perceived link between script and communal identity; cf. Adiego 2007: 205–233. See also Luraghi 2010 on the link between local alphabets and local identity. See Konuk 2007; Piras 2009; Marek 2013. Hdt. 1. 171. 2: εἰσὶ δὲ τούτων Κᾶρες μὲν ἀπιγμένοι ἐς τὴν ἤπειρον ἐκ τῶν νήσων. τὸ γὰρ παλαιὸν ἐόντες Μίνω κατήκοοι καὶ καλεόμενοι Λέλεγες εἶχον τὰς νήσους, φόρον μὲν οὐδένα ὑποτελέοντες, ὅσον καὶ ἐγὼ δυνατός εἰμι ἐπὶ μακρότατον ἐξικέσθαι ἀκοῇ· οἳ δέ, ὅκως Μίνως δέοιτο, ἐπλήρουν οἱ τὰς νέας.

3

The Carian–Cretan Connection

Figure 1 Carian letter forms

the most regarded of all ethnoi’.6 It was only later that the Carians settled in mainland Anatolia, after they were driven from the islands by the arrival of the Ionians and the Dorians.7 Thucydides gives a similar account, whereby the Carians had in earlier times inhabited most of the islands of the Aegean, along with the Phoenicians, during which time they were characterised by their piratical ways.8 In this version, it was Minos who drove the Carians out when he sought to establish his own

6

7

8

Hdt. 1. 171. 3: ἅτε δὴ Μίνω τε κατεστραμμένου γῆν πολλὴν καὶ εὐτυχέοντος τῷ πολέμῳ, τὸ Καρικὸν ἦν ἔθνος λογιμώτατον τῶν ἐθνέων ἁπάντων κατὰ τοῦτον ἅμα τὸν χρόνον μακρῷ μάλιστα. Hdt. 1. 171. 5: μετὰ δὲ τοὺς Κᾶρας χρόνῳ ὕστερον πολλῷ Δωριέες τε καὶ Ἴωνες ἐξανέστησαν ἐκ τῶν νήσων, καὶ οὕτω ἐς τὴν ἤπειρον ἀπίκοντο. Thuc. 1. 8. 1: καὶ οὐχ ἧσσον λῃσταὶ ἦσαν οἱ νησιῶται, Κᾶρές τε ὄντες καὶ Φοίνικες: οὗτοι γὰρ δὴ τὰς πλείστας τῶν νήσων ᾤκησαν.

3

4

Introduction

colonies in the islands and secure his thalassocracy ;9 his expulsion of the Carians was linked with his attempts to target piracy, thereby securing the revenues of the sea for himself.10 The widespread acceptance of this outline is reflected in Strabo, who in the Augustan period writes that ‘of the numerous accounts of the Carians, the one that is generally agreed upon is this: that the Carians were subject to the rule of Minos, being called Leleges at that time, and lived in the islands’.11 Strabo does not record the circumstances under which the Carians migrated to the Anatolian mainland, although he writes that they acquired much of the coast and the interior, ‘taking it away from its previous possessors, who for the most part were Leleges and Pelasgians.’12 The migrations of the Ionians and the Dorians subsequently deprived the Carians of part of their coastal territory.13 Beyond this core tradition linking Carian habitation of the Aegean islands with the distant reign of Minos, a larger corpus of material suggests some association or affiliation between southwestern Anatolia and Crete. The Minoan connection is mirrored in a number of civic mythologies of Caria that awarded a role to Crete in their foundation legends; various cults and toponyms in the region also suggest a relationship, notably in a Hellenistic cult of a ‘Cretan-born’ Zeus.14 It is a diverse but pervasive collection of material. The prestige and antiquity of a link with the mythologies of Minoan Crete were certainly an aspect of their prominence; communities of the ancient world frequently sought to emphasise the depth of their history by tracing their origins back to the time of gods and heroes.15 The ‘golden age’ of Minoan Crete was thus awarded a significant role in early mythologies.16

9 10

11

12

13 14 15 16

Thuc. 1. 8. 2. Thuc. 1. 4: ‘He made himself master of a very great part of what is now called the Hellenic Sea, and became leader of the Cyclades islands and first colonizer of most of them, driving out the Carians’ (καὶ τῆς νῦν Ἑλληνικῆς θαλάσσης ἐπὶ πλεῖστον ἐκράτησε καὶ τῶν Κυκλάδων νήσων ἦρξέ τε καὶ οἰκιστὴς πρῶτος τῶν πλείστων ἐγένετο, Κᾶρας ἐξελάσας). Strab. 14. 2. 27: Πολλῶν δὲ λὸγων εἰρημένων περὶ Καρῶν, ὁ μάλισθ’ ὁμολογούμενός ἐστιν οὗτος, ὅτι οἱ Κᾶρες ὑπὸ Μίνω ἐτάττοντο, τότε Λέλεγες καλούμενοι, καὶ τὰς νήσους ᾤκουν. Strab. 14. 2. 27: εἶτ’ ἠπειρῶται γενόμενοι, πολλὴν τῆς παραλίας καὶ τῆς μεσογαίας κατέσχον τοὺς προκατέχοντας ἀφελόμενοι· καὶ οὗτοι δ’ ἦσαν οἱ πλείους Λέλεγες καὶ Πελασγοί. On the difficulties of pinning down the identity of the Leleges, see below: pp. 57–58. Strab. 14. 2. 27: πάλιν δὲ τούτους ἀφείλοντο μέρος οἱ Ἕλληνες, Ἰωνές τε καὶ Δωριεῖς. The case study of the ‘Cretan-born’ Zeus will be the focus of Chapter 6. See Thomas 2011. Cf. Diod. Sic. 5. 78.

5

The Carian–Cretan Connection

It has been suggested that the claims of a Carian affinity with Crete could be an attempt to provide a Greek heritage for the Carians.17 However, this is a narrow way to interpret the traditions, and seeks to clearly demarcate ‘Greek’ from ‘non-Greek’. Certainly, the Anatolian origins of the Carians resulted in them being cast as the barbarian ‘Other’, in opposition to the Hellenes, in much Greek thought; but this familiar dichotomy should not dominate how we approach the history of Caria and the Carians. A more nuanced approach to cultural interactions between Greeks and non-Greeks will be pursued in this book.18 I  seek to readdress the theoretical divide between Carians and Greeks that has come to characterise much modern scholarship, and focus instead on the practical realities of interaction between the Aegean and Caria. The notion that the mythological links between Caria and Crete were intended to prove the Hellenic lineage of the Carians further presumes that a connection with Minos’ Crete would provide them with such an unequivocal Greek connection.19 The tales surrounding Minos and his family were fundamental to Greek mythology, but the Hellenic origin of the central figures was far from assured: according to myth, Minos and his brothers Rhadamanthys and Sarpedon were the sons of Zeus and Europa, the latter by origin a Phoenician princess.20 Strabo writes that there was disagreement over whether Minos was indeed a ‘foreigner’ (xenon) to the island, or a ‘native’ (epichōrion).21 Furthermore, it overlooks the fact that Herodotus distinguishes this ‘Cretan’ version from that told by the Carians. As he writes, the story recording Carian habitation of the islands was the tale told by the

17

18

19

20

21

Hornblower (2011: 357–358) suggests that Maussollos may have wanted to be considered Greek in order to compete in one of the four big panhellenic games. Cf. Jones 1999: 16; Bresson 2007b: 226. Recent scholarship has sought to move away from the binary model: see for example Gruen 2011; Skinner 2012; Vlassopoulos 2013b. This issue will be addressed in greater detail in Chapter 1. Herodotus (1. 173. 1) comments that in the past Crete was inhabited by barbarians (τὴν γὰρ Κρήτην εἶχον τὸ παλαιὸν πᾶσαν βάρβαροι). Cf. Hdt. 7. 171, for discussion of the different stages of settlement on Crete; Hom. Od. 19. 172–177. See also Strab. 10. 4. 6 for a discussion of the Eteocretans. Apollod. Bib. 3. 1. 1: Europa was the sister of Kadmos, Phoenix and Kilix; although in certain versions she was the daughter of Phoenix. Diod. Sic. 5. 78. 1–2: Europe was the daughter of Agenor. Cf. Hdt. 4. 45. 5: ‘But it is plain that this woman (Europa) was of Asiatic birth, and never came to this land which the Greeks now call Europe, but only from Phoinike to Crete, and from Crete to Lycia’ (ἀλλ᾽ αὕτη γε ἐκ τῆς Ἀσίης τε φαίνεται ἐοῦσα καὶ οὐκ ἀπικομένη ἐς τὴν γῆν ταύτην ἥτις νῦν ὑπὸ Ἑλλήνων Εὐρώπη καλέεται, ἀλλ᾽ ὅσον ἐκ Φοινίκης ἐς Κρήτην, ἐκ Κρήτης δὲ ἐς Λυκίην). Strab. 10. 4. 9.

5

6

Introduction

Cretans; the Carians, however, did not agree, and maintained that they were autochthonous inhabitants of the mainland, ‘and ever bore the name which they bear now’.22 In support of this claim, they pointed to the ancient shrine of Zeus Karios at Mylasa, and asserted that their eponymous father Kar was a brother to Lydos and Mysos, the founding figures of Lydia and Mysia.23 The importance of Crete in a Carian context cannot be explained solely as a means of establishing the prestige of their early history, particularly as it appears to have been a narrative that the communities of Caria did not wholly embrace. It also overlooks the significance of migration narratives in the corpus of foundation mythologies in the Greek world, in which foreign founders often played a central role.24 This did not bring into question the Hellenicity of the peoples involved, but rather placed their histories against a background of mobility between cultures.25 I suggest that the Cretan link in Caria similarly sought to situate the history of the region in a wider historical framework. It reflected something about the participation of Carians in the social and cultural networks of the Aegean. The notion of Carian mobility in the Aegean was also incorporated into Greek narratives, with a Carian phase preserved in the historical traditions of a number of islands. In the foundation mythologies of Naxos, for instance, a Carian element is found in a number of versions. According to Diodorus Siculus, Carians from Latmia settled on the island after the Thracians abandoned it, and named it after their king Naxos, the son of Polemon; Naxos begat a son Leukippos, whose own son Smerdios subsequently became king of the island.26 A similar account was preserved by Stephanus of Byzantium, whereby the island was named after Naxos, the son of Endymion, who had led Carian settlers to the island.27 According 22

23 24

25

26 27

Hdt. 1. 171. 5: κατὰ μὲν δὴ Κᾶρας οὕτω Κρῆτες λέγουσι γενέσθαι· οὐ μέντοι αὐτοί γε ὁμολογέουσι τούτοισι οἱ Κᾶρες, ἀλλὰ νομίζουσι αὐτοὶ ἑωυτοὺς εἶναι αὐτόχθονας ἠπειρώτας καὶ τῷ οὐνόματι τῷ αὐτῷ αἰεὶ διαχρεωμένους τῷ περ νῦν. Hdt. 1. 171. 6: τὸν γὰρ Λυδὸν καὶ τὸν Μυσὸν λέγουσι εἶναι Καρὸς ἀδελφεούς. Thus the figure of Pelops, identified variously as Lydian or Phrygian, played a central role in the early history of the Peloponnese: Pindar, Olymp. 1. 24; Paus. 5. 1. 6. Diodorus (4. 74. 1) records that Pelops was the son of Tantalus, who dwelled ‘in that part of Asia which is now called Paphlagonia’. The Egyptian Danaos was also important in Argive history: Paus. 2. 19. 3; FGrH 239 A9. Cf. Gruen 2011: 226–227; Malkin 2015. Herodotus (2. 4) acknowledges the greater antiquity of Egyptian culture, and the debt of the Greeks to Egypt, particularly in the religious realm. Diod. Sic. 5. 51. 3. Steph. Byz. s.v. Νάξος; the link with Latmos is preserved in the figure of Endymion, whose myth was closely associated with Mt. Latmos; see below: pp. 172–173. The Carian connection could be strengthened by the existence of another place in Caria of a similar name: according to Stephanus, Naxia was a πόλις Καρίας (s.v. Ναξία). In another version, Naxos was the child of the Cretan nymph Akakallis and Apollo, and was related to a city of Naxia on Crete; Schol. Apoll. Rhod. 4. 1492. Cf. Steph. Byz. s.v. Νάξος. Suda, s.v. Ναξία.

7

The Carian–Cretan Connection

to Thucydides, a Carian presence on Delos was confirmed by the nature of certain burials on the island: he relates that when the Athenians came to purify the island, they discovered that over half the graves were of Carians, ‘being recognised by the fashion of the armour found buried with them, and by the mode of burial, which is that still in use among them’.28 Strabo further recorded that Samos had at one time been inhabited by Carians, at which point it was called Parthenia.29 In the Dodekanese, S. Sherwin-White has drawn attention to the Koan kinship group, the Karindai, which can tentatively be connected with Kar and the Kares;30 Karis is further recorded as another name for Kos.31 An extension of the tradition relating Carian habitation of the islands can be traced in the notion of a ‘Carian thalassocracy’ known from certain ancient sources. According to Diodorus, after the fall of Troy, the Carians ‘steadily increased their power and became masters of the sea’; they took possession of the Cyclades, ‘expelling the Cretans who had their homes on them, but in some islands they settled jointly with the Cretans who had been the first to dwell there’.32 In this tradition, Carian occupation of the islands postdated the time of Minos, and indeed the Trojan War; the barbarian Carians were only driven out at a later date when the Greeks came to inhabit the Cycladic islands. It is not possible to determine whether such traditions preserve a historical ‘memory’ at their core; did the mythologies involving Carian settlement of the islands reflect their early mobility, or were they developed later?33 We are on more secure ground when we consider the mobility of Carians in the Archaic period, in particular associated with their employment as mercenaries; according to Strabo, in earlier times ‘the Carians roamed 28

29 30

31 32

33

Thuc. 1. 8. 1: γνωσθέντες τῇ τε σκευῇ τῶν ὅπλων ξυντεθαμμένῃ καὶ τῷ τρόπῳ ᾧ νῦν ἔτι θάπτουσιν. In the ancient world, the Carians were renowned for their warlike character, and Herodotus (1. 171.4) credited them with three military inventions: fitting crests on helmets, putting devices on shields and making shields with handles. Cf. Strab. 14. 2. 27: ‘As evidence of their zeal for military affairs, writers adduce shield-holders, shield emblems and crests, for all these are called “Carian”.’ Strab. 14. 1. 15. Sherwin-White 1978: 167; many of the kinship groups were named from mythology (165–169). Steph. Byz. s.v. Κῶς…ἐκαλεῖτο δὲ καὶ Καρίς. Cf. Craik 1980: 51. Diod. Sic. 5. 84. 4: μετὰ δὲ τὴν Τροίας ἅλωσιν Κᾶρες αὐξηθέντες ἐπὶ πλέον ἐθαλαττοκράτησαν, καὶ τῶν Κυκλάδων νήσων κρατήσαντες τινὰς μὲν ἰδία κατέσχον καὶ τοὺς ἐν αὐταῖς κατοικοῦντας Κρῆτας ἐξέβαλον, τινὰς δὲ κοινῇ μετὰ τῶν προενοικούντων Κρητῶν κατῴκησαν. Cf. Eusebius Chronicle, p. 226 in the Schoene-Petermann edition; Suda s.v. Κρήσιος: Κρητικός. τοὺς Κᾶρας θαλαττοκρατῆσαι λέγεται μετὰ Μίνω τὸν Κρήσιον (‘It is said that the Carians ruled the sea after Minos the Cretan’). Cf. Herda 2009: 43–45.

7

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Introduction

throughout the whole of Greece, serving on expeditions for pay’.34 The settlement of Carians in Egypt is well attested, and their presence at Borsippa in Babylonia appears to be a corollary of this.35 Certain toponyms further suggest widespread Carian mobility in the Mediterranean and beyond: Karikon teichos, ‘Carian wall’, is described by Ephorus as a polis in Libya, left of the ‘Pillars of Herakles’;36 a Karōn limēn was also located on the western coast of the Black Sea.37 It is not possible to quantify the levels of Carian movement in the Mediterranean from such clues; however, the persistent image of Carian acquaintance with the sea does seem to reflect the involvement of seafarers from the region in the maritime networks of the Aegean and the wider Mediterranean. This was partly dictated by topography : the mountainous terrain of inland Caria meant that inter-regional traffic to inland Anatolia was conducted principally via the Maeander valley and its tributaries.38 In contrast, the extended, albeit rugged, coastline of Caria encouraged travel across the water, and the branching Datça and Bodrum peninsulas were naturally incorporated into the maritime networks of the Dodekanese (Map 1).39

Caria and Crete in the Maritime Itineraries of the Mediterranean The direction and volume of mobility in antiquity was primarily governed by practicality and expediency; the most effective means of transporting goods

34 35

36

37

38 39

Strab. 14. 2. 28, ll. 54–55: οὗτοι δὲ καθ’ ὅλην ἐπλανήθησαν τὴν Ἑλλάδα, μισθοῦ στρατεύοντες. Adiego 2007: 30: around 170 Carian inscriptions and/or graffiti have been discovered in Egypt to date, to which should be added 50 unedited inscriptions. For further discussion of the presence of Carians in Egypt, see Chapter 1. Waerzeggers (2006: 5) notes that the Carian community at Borsippa originated from Egypt. Cf. Ray 1995. Steph. Byz. s.v. Καρικὸν τεῖχος, πόλις Λιβύης ἐν ἀριστερᾷ τῶν Ἡρακλείων στηλῶν, ὡς Ἔφορος πέμπτῃ. τὸ ἐθνικὸν Καρικοτειχίτης. Cf. Robert 1980: 409, who notes that ‘le mot τεῖχος désigne un établissement grec, un fortin, à l’orée du monde indigène’ (the word τεῖχος designates a Greek establishment, a fort, on the fringes of the indigenous world). In the case of Karikon teichos, it appears that the Greek form had been adopted to refer to a Carian outpost; although it is not known whether it was designated as such by Carians or Greeks. The Carian city of Gordiouteichos (Steph. Byz. s.v Γορδίου τεῖχος), located in the vicinity of Aphrodisias, again includes the -teichos element; such names appear to refer to the fortified nature of the settlements concerned. Cf. Herda 2013: 448. Pliny the Elder (NH 6. 7) also notes that Carians had settled around the river Tanais, to the north of the Black Sea, before settlers from Klazomenai and the Maeonians arrived. Cf. Thonemann 2011: 1–49. Cf. Melas 1988: 109.

9

9

Caria and Crete in Maritime Itineraries

Thasos

MYSIA

Pergamon

OL

LYDIA

Euboia

Smyrna

Chios

Ephesos Samos

Megara Corinth

Athens

CARIA

Miletos

Paros Sparta

AN

AT

Lesbos

IA

Lemnos

Iasos Halikarnassos

Mylasa Stratonikeia Kaunos

Naxos Kos

LYCIA Xanthos

Knidos Thera

Rhodes

Kythera Karpathos

Knossos

CRETE 0 0

100 50

200 100

Map 1 The Aegean

and people was across water. The majority of interaction took place within small-scale networks, with numerous links between communities that were geographically close. P. Horden and N. Purcell rightly emphasise the significance of the coast-wise voyage, or periplous, as an ‘expression of geographical coherence’, with maritime routes constituting an important means of delineating one’s landscape.40 Navigation was directed according to visible landmarks, 40

Horden and Purcell 2000: 11: ‘In the ancient geographical tradition the sea shapes the land, not the other way about’. Cf. Strab. 2. 45. 17: ‘It is the sea more than anything else that defines the contours of the land and gives it its shapes, forming gulfs, sea-basins, straits, and likewise isthmuses, peninsulas and promontories; but both the rivers and the mountains assist the sea herein’ (Πλεῖστον δ’ ἡ θάλαττα γεωγραφεῖ καὶ σχηματίζει τὴν γῆν, κόλπους ἀπεργαζομένη

300 km 150 miles

10

Introduction

and routes were defined by the harbours or inlets visited,41 with islands and isthmuses functioning as valuable pointers demarcating the horizon.42 Recent scholarship on the Aegean islands has stressed the centrality of interaction to the conceptualisation of insularity.43 Island identity was articulated as much in relation to an island’s neighbours as internally, and C. Constantakopoulou notes the ‘grouping’ of the islands of the Dodekanese as early as Homer.44 This pattern can also be identified in how these islands related to the Anatolian mainland, and vice versa.45 Constantakopoulou has drawn attention to the extension of Milesian influence in the surrounding islands: Leros formed part of Milesian territory in the fifth century bc , while Patmos and Leipsoi seem to have been controlled by Miletos during the Hellenistic period.46 In the fourth century bc , the Hekatomnid dynasty that ruled much of Caria extended its domain to include the nearby islands of Rhodes and Kos, and reached as far north as Chios.47 The Carian Hekatomnids involved themselves in the business of the sea as a means of asserting their regional influence. The Rhodian peraia was also established at the end of the fourth century bc on the Loryma peninsula, and expanded during the Hellenistic period.48 Subsequent Rhodian attempts to increase

41

42

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44

45

46 47

48

καὶ πελάγη καὶ πορθμούς, ὁμοίως δὲ ἰσθμοὺς καὶ χερρονήσους καὶ ἄκρας· προσλαμβάνουσι δὲ ταύτῃ καὶ οἱ ποταμοὶ καὶ τὰ ὄρη). Horden and Purcell 2000: 11. Cf. Bresson 2005: 98–99; Dilke 1985: 130ff. The periplous of Pseudo-Skylax, thought to date to the fourth century bc , is one of the earliest extant Greek examples, though it is a compilation of earlier periploi. One can also point to Nearchos the Cretan (see below: p. 137), who was commissioned by Alexander the Great to write up his naval expedition in the east; see Dilke 1985: 134–135. Constantakopoulou 2007: 20, stresses that the increased visibility that islands afforded sailors placed them ‘at the heart of the navigational systems’. Broodbank 2000 on the Early Bronze Age networks of the Cyclades; Constantakopoulou 2007 on insularity in the Aegean. Constantakopoulou 2007: 216; in the Iliad, Kos, Nisyros, Karpathos and Kasos are grouped together (Hom. Il. 2. 676–677). Gautier Dalché (2011) notes the numerous small-scale links that connected the islands of the Dodekanese with the continent in medieval portolans, or nautical itineraries; they record distances between coastal ‘ports’, safe places of anchorage, and the practicalities of specific sea crossings. While they are of a later date, the practicalities dictating certain routes were the same as those of the ancient world. Constantakopoulou 2007: 228–231. Dem. 5. 25. Hornblower 1982: 127–136; the Hekatomnids also seem to have maintained fortified strongholds on Nisyros, Kalymnos and Telos: the fortifications bear a notable similarity to those at Hekatomnid sites on the mainland. Following the dating of Badoud 2011; he has made a persuasive case for pushing back the date of the establishment of Rhodian interests on the Chersonesos to the end of the fourth century bc . Pseudo-Skylax (see n. 41 of this chapter) made reference to Rhodian possessions on the mainland (Ps.-Skyl. 99), including Herakleia-under-Latmos. Counillon (2007: 38–39) used this to establish a terminus ante quem for the work: the city of Latmos, which preceded

1

Caria and Crete in Maritime Itineraries

their influence in southwestern Anatolia were linked with their ambitions to stake their claim as the major power of the southeast Aegean: the interests of the island were entwined with those of the Carian mainland.49 The place of Crete in this pattern is not conventional:50 it is significantly larger and more geographically remote within the Aegean than the majority of islands, and no other islands are visible from it (although it was claimed that on a clear day Crete was visible from the summit of Mt. Atabyrion on Rhodes).51 According to Strabo, Crete cannot be described as situated in the Aegean proper, but was located between Cyrenaia and Greece, ‘washed on the north by the Aegean and the Cretan seas, and on the south by the Libyan sea, which borders on the Egyptian’.52 The island was renowned in antiquity for the thalassocracy of Minos;53 the ancient proverb ‘the Cretan does not know the sea’, described by Strabo to apply to those ‘who pretend not to know what they do know’, further reflects the maritime reputation of the Cretans.54 The special advantages of Crete’s geographical position were outlined by Aristotle,55 who noted that ‘the island appears to be designed by nature and well suited to be superior among the Greeks’.56 The historicity of the Cretan thalassocracy is ultimately unverifiable, and the question of whether it can be related to the Minoan material culture that permeated much of the Aegean and western Anatolia in the Late

49

50 51 52

53 54

55

56

Herakleia, was still in existence under the satrap Asandros (323–313 bc ). Herakleia was subsequently renamed after Pleistarchos (313–297 bc ); see Chapter 5, n. 26. Thus Badoud (2011: 545) suggests a date between 323 and 297 bc for the work of Pseudo-Skylax on Caria; more precisely (553–555), Badoud places the integration of the peraia into Rhodian territory in the immediate aftermath of the siege of Rhodes by Demetrios Poliorketes in 305 bc (Diod. Sic. 20. 82). See Fraser and Bean 1954; Gabrielsen 2000; Constantakopoulou 2007: 243–245. On peraiai, areas of land opposite islands, see Horden and Purcell 2000: 133: ‘the terminology, defining a piece of the mainland in terms of its relationship to an offshore island rather than vice versa, strikingly reflects the conceptual primacy of the maritime world’. Constantakopoulou 2007: 13. Chaniotis 2008: 5. See Apollod. 3. 2. 1; Diod. Sic. 5. 59. 2–3. Strab. 10. 4. 2: κλύζεσθαι δὲ ἀπὸ μὲν τῶν ἄρκτων τῷ Αἰγαίῳ πελάγει καὶ τῷ Κρητικῷ ἀπὸ δὲ τοῦ νότου τῷ Λιβυκῷ τῷ συνάπτοντι πρὸς τὸ Αἰγύπτιον πέλαγος. Cf. Hdt. 1. 171. Strab. 10. 4. 17: ὁ Κρὴς ἀγνοεῖ τὴν Θάλατταν. Cf. Alcm. Fr. 164: ῾The Cretan and the sea: … a proverb used of people who know but pretend not to know’ (ὁ Κρὴς δὴ τὸν πόντον· … παροιμία ἐπὶ τῶν εἰδότων μέν, προσποιουμένων δ᾿ ἀγνοεῖν). Aristot. Pol. 2. 1271b 35–39: ‘It lies across the whole of the sea, round which almost all the Greeks are settled; for Crete is only a short distance from the Peloponnese in one direction, and from the part of Asia around Triopion and from Rhodes in the other. Owing to this Minos won the rule of the sea’ (πάσῃ γὰρ ἐπίκειται τῇ θαλάσσῃ, σχεδὸν τῶν Ἑλλήνων ἱδρυμένων περὶ τὴν θάλασσαν πάντων· ἀπέχει γὰρ τῇ μὲν τῆς Πελοποννήσου μικρόν, τῇ δὲ τῆς Ἀσίας τοῦ περὶ Τριόπιον τόπου καὶ Ῥόδου. διὸ καὶ τὴν τῆς θαλάσσης ἀρχὴν κατέσχεν ὁ Μίνως). Aristot. Pol. 2. 1271b 33–34: δοκεῖ δ᾽ ἡ νῆσος καὶ πρὸς τὴν ἀρχὴν τὴν Ἑλληνικὴν πεφυκέναι καὶ κεῖσθαι καλῶς.

11

12

Introduction

Bronze Age continues to be debated.57 It will be argued in Chapter 3 that there is some substance to the apparent correspondence; but the rationale behind the engagement of the Cretans in maritime activities from an early period should not be overlooked. The advent of sailing technology c.2000 bc increased the frequency of overseas travel over longer distances, and within the trading networks running east–west across the Mediterranean the location of Crete had natural benefits.58 The early evidence of Cretan interaction with Egypt, and the Phoenician involvement on the island from the eighth century bc , would seem to confirm the place of Crete in these trade routes. The direction of winds and the currents across the Mediterranean played a large part in dictating navigation at different times of the year. During the summer sailing season, from mid-May to mid-September, the prevailing northwesterly winds, the etesians (or the meltem), encouraged travel in an anti-clockwise direction. Travel from Egypt to the Aegean was primarily conducted via the Levant and along the southern coast of Anatolia; trunk routes can be traced around Cyprus (where winds blow more westerly), then along the south coast of Anatolia, whose harbours and inlets provided the necessary shelter.59 Itineraries would incorporate the ports of Rhodes and Caria, before crossing to Crete, where courses were plotted along the more sheltered south coast;60 routes then continued to the western Mediterranean.61 The journey of St Paul from Caesarea to Rome details such a route, and the potential perils involved. He undertook the voyage in the autumn, with the boat stopping first at Sidon, then sailing around Cyprus to the seas of Cilicia and Pamphylia; it then travelled west along the coast to Myra in Lycia. There St Paul was put on a boat sailing to Italy, and he continued his journey along the south coast of Lycia and Caria; the winds were too great for them to put in at Knidos, so they sailed to Crete, and made their way along the south of the island to a place called ‘Fair Havens’.62 An expedition from Sparta in the winter of 412/11 bc plotted a similar course around Crete, but in the opposite direction; according to Thucydides, the Spartan ships voyaged east from Melos, around Crete, before putting in at Kaunos in Caria.63 57 58 59 60 61 62

63

See now the comments of Constantakopoulou 2007: 90–97, and Niemeier 2009a. Knappett, Evans and Rivers 2008: 1010–1011. Bresson 2011: 398–400. Perlman 1999: 152; Bresson 2011: 399–400. See Horden and Purcell 2000: 138. Acts 27: 4–44. They set sail again, hoping to spend the winter at Phoenix, but were caught in a storm; after drifting for many days, their ship was eventually shipwrecked off Malta. Thuc. 8. 39. 3.

13

Caria and Crete in Maritime Itineraries

Crete may not have been naturally incorporated in the other groupings of islands in the Aegean, yet its location was central to the establishment of routes running both east and west, as well as linking the Aegean with Egypt. The summer etesian winds benefited trajectories directly south, with routes running from Crete to Cyrene and other parts of north Africa; the promontory of Kriou Metōpon in western Crete offered the shortest crossing, and according to Strabo the journey took two days and nights.64 Direct routes from southern Anatolia and Rhodes are also attested:  the Ephesian Tale of Xenophon of Ephesos recorded that the lovers Anthia and Habrokomes departed from Ephesos to Samos; they sailed past Kos and Knidos before arriving on Rhodes, from where they set sail across the Egyptian Sea.65 Despite their inherent difficulties, such offshore routes were a regular feature of ancient navigation during the Classical and Hellenistic periods, albeit affected by the seasons.66 During the winter months, the prevalent northerly winds and unpredictable weather conditions may have discouraged travellers from making the journey east from Egypt around the Levant that was favoured in summer. M. Zimmerman has suggested that a route directly north between Alexandria and Crete, or via Libya, would instead have been preferred during this period; travel would then have continued via the Dodekanese to the south coast of Anatolia.67 Thucydides may again offer confirmation for such a route: of the ten Spartan ships sent to Knidos in 412/11 bc , half were ordered to guard Knidos, while the other half were dispatched to sail around Triopion (the promontory of Knidos)68 ‘and seize

64 65

66 67

68

Strab. 10. 4. 5. Cf. Pliny NH 4. 20. Xen. Eph. 1. 11–12; they were subsequently intercepted by Phoenician pirates and taken to Tyre. Cf. Plb. 34. 4; Strab. 1. 2. 17. Arnaud 2011: 415–416. Zimmerman 1992: 205ff., draws attention to a letter in the Zenon archive, from Antimenes to the Ptolemaic official Zenon (PMich 1. 10), which records the journey of a certain Doris from Alexandria to Arsinoë in Cilicia, conducted between November/December 258 and April 257 bc . Her trip was disrupted after her ship was damaged in a storm, and it was forced to put in at Patara in Lycia. Zimmerman suggested that the direction of travel would have been north from Egypt to Crete, before travel continued east to the south coast of Anatolia. Cf. Arnaud (2011: 416), who appears to regard the Arsinoë mentioned in the letter as the same as Patara, and suggests that travel would have been east to west; however, as both Patara and Arsinoë are mentioned in the same letter, they should be regarded as different, and this Arsinoë is better identified as further east, either in Cilicia (as suggested by Zimmerman) or Pamphylia. Cf. Bresson 2011: 395–398: the site of Knidos was moved, likely at the beginning of the Hellenistic period, to the end of the peninsula, near Cape Triopion. Bresson suggests (396) that this move ‘correspondit manifestement à la volonté d’installer la ville de Cnide sur le grand axe de navigation qui longeait la côte micrasiatique et qui joignait les Détroits à la Syrie et à l’Egypte’ (corresponded to the wish to establish the city of Knidos on the navigation axis that followed the microasiatic coastline and linked the straits to Syria and to Egypt).

13

14

Introduction

the merchantmen putting in there on the way from Egypt’.69 At this time of year, it is likely that they were following a route directly north to the Aegean.70 According to Demosthenes, the uninterrupted voyage between Egypt and the Aegean could be successfully charted two or three times during winter; while the accuracy of this statement is not confirmed (if three journeys could actually be completed), the existence of such a route is assured.71 It is not possible to reconstruct the volume of traffic that would have travelled directly from southern Anatolia and the Dodekanese to Egypt, and vice versa, but the existence of such a trajectory in antiquity appears secure. Indirect evidence can be sought in the well-attested presence of Carians in Egypt during the Archaic and Classical periods. The relative locations of Crete and Caria encouraged mobility between the two regions, with natural routes connecting the east of Crete to Karpathos, Rhodes and the harbours of southwestern Anatolia. Both regions were integral within the maritime networks of the eastern Mediterranean, and the advantages of their geographical alignment could be exploited in particular socio-political circumstances. When the Carian dynast Maussollos sought to expand his influence and secure his standing in the southeast Aegean in the fourth century bc , his attentions focused on the neighbouring islands. Crete was a natural extension of this wider scheme, and Maussollos, with his sister/wife Artemisia, is found awarding proxenia to the Knossians.72 A possible forebear to such contact can be sought in the figure of the other Artemisia, daughter of Lygdamis, who led the contingent from Halikarnassos, Kos, Nisyros and Kalyndos against the Greeks in the Persian Wars: Herodotus records that on her father’s side she was of Halikarnassian lineage, while her mother was Cretan.73 The implication is that the prominent families of southwestern Anatolia were integrated into the same social and diplomatic networks as Crete.74 Strategically, the island also possessed benefits in the Hellenistic period for those dynasts competing for dominance in the eastern Aegean and western Anatolia. The Ptolemies installed a garrison at Itanos in order to 69

70

71 72 73 74

Thuc. 8. 35. 2: ἐκέλευον ταῖς μὲν ἡμισείαις τῶν νεῶν Κνίδον φυλάσσειν, ταῖς δὲ περὶ Τριόπιον οὔσαις τὰς ἀπ’ Αἰγύπτου ὁλκάδας προσβαλλούσας ξυλλαμβάνειν. Arnaud 2011: 416. Cf. Zimmerman 1992, who notes that a route directly north from Egypt to Rhodes is not attested, though there is evidence for the itinerary south from Rhodes to Alexandria; Zimmerman suggests that the preferred route north would have been via Cyrene to Crete, then east to Rhodes and Caria. Dem. 56. 30. I. Labraunda 40; Hornblower 1982: M7; Rhodes and Osborne 55. Hdt. 7. 99. 2. Cf. Hornblower 2011: 356–357.

15

Caria and Crete in Maritime Itineraries

secure their interests,75 while the Seleukids and the Attalids established treaties with different Cretan states at various times;76 the Antigonids also interceded on the island in the late third century bc , with Philip V elected as prostatēs (‘president’) of the Cretan koinon in 217 bc .77 The logic of contact between Caria and Crete does not automatically presuppose continuity in interaction from the early attestations in the Bronze Age throughout antiquity.78 Strabo’s remark about the Cretan who does not understand the sea is immediately qualified by the statement that ‘now the Cretans have lost their nautical knowledge’.79 The levels of connectivity between Crete and western Anatolia were dictated by social and political factors, and there are certain periods in which the advantages of their proximity seem to have been exploited more than in others. But the natural advantages of the communication networks between Caria, Crete and the surrounding islands remained constant, and interaction never ceased entirely.80 This pattern emerges again in the late Middle Ages, when Crete, or Candia as it was known, was acquired by Venice in the aftermath of the partition of Byzantium in 1204. The island became an important stronghold for the Venetians, and served as a platform from which to engage in commerce in the eastern Mediterranean. It also played a significant role in the Venetian mercantile policy towards the emirates of western Anatolia, focused on Menteshe and Aydin. The Venetian governor of Crete, the Duca 75

76

77

78

79 80

An inscription from the late second century bc records that when the Itanians had been ‘pressed hard’ (θλιβόμενοι) by the Praisians, they had sought assistance from King Ptolemy VI Philometor to help protect their city and territory, including the islands: IC 3. 4. 9, ll. 40– 41: ἐπεσπάσαντο χάριν βοηθείας καὶ φυλακῆς τῆς τε πόλεως καὶ τῆς χώρας, | ἔτι δὲ καὶ τῶν νήσων, τὸν Αἰγύπτου βασιλεύσαντα Πτολεμαῖον. Cf. Spyridakis 1970: 71; Chaniotis 2005: 19; Viviers 2011. An inscription from Lyttos, dated to April 249 bc, renewed the friendship and alliance that existed between the city and Antiochos II (IC 1. 18. 8); for Attalid influence, see Chapter 4, n. 38. Antigonos Doson agreed treaties with Hierapytna and Eleutherna c.227–224 bc (IC 3. 3. 1A; IC 2. 12. 20); Plb. 7. 11. 9. In 220 bc , Philip V and the Achaian League had contributed a force of 400 Ilyrians, 200 Achaians and 100 Phokaians to help the Lyttians and their allies; in return, the Polyrrhenians sent a force of 500 Cretans to aid Philip (Plb. 4. 55). He was named as prostatēs in the aftermath of the Lyttian War; see Chapter 4, n. 93. Philip V’s intervention on Crete may be connected to Philopoimen’s departure to the island a short time before; see Paus. 8. 49. 7; Plut. Phil. 7. 1–2. Cf. Errington 1969: 28–34. Constantakopoulou (2007: 4), for instance, draws attention to the apparent isolation of Karpathos after the collapse of the Minoan kingdoms. Strab. 10. 4. 17: νῦν δ᾽ ἀποβεβληκέναι τὸ ναυτικόν. Attention has increasingly turned to the evidence from the so-called ‘Dark Ages’, between the eleventh and eighth centuries bc , and it is becoming apparent that while there was a decrease in inter-regional contact, there was not a complete cessation in communications. See now Lane Fox 2008, discussing Euboian maritime activities; von Rüden 2007, for evidence of exchange between Crete and Cyprus during the Submycenaean period. Cf. Bresson 2003: 106–108.

15

16

Introduction

di Candia, was delegated the responsibility of negotiating relations with western Anatolia,81 and a series of treaties were concluded between the Venetians and the Turkish emirates from the late thirteenth through to the fifteenth century with the aim of securing their mutual trading interests in the region.82 The consequences of interaction between Caria and Crete are the focus of this book, as I seek to examine the evidence for an affiliation in a context of multi-directional contacts in different historical periods. Their geographical proximity was one of a number of factors that encouraged contact. Before considering the wider implications of mobility within these networks, I will first examine how discussions of interaction between Crete and Caria have historically been framed by focusing on the case study of the labrys and the labyrinth. The notion of a cultural debt between Bronze Age Crete and the civilisations of Anatolia characterised much early scholarship on the history of the Carians; it serves as a useful basis from which to explore the issues involved in the study of cultural interaction.

The Labrys and the Labyrinth The excavations of Arthur J. Evans at Knossos in the early stages of the twentieth century sparked interest in the question of contact between the Aegean and the Near East. In his discussions of the newly unearthed ‘Minoan’ culture, Evans perceived a particular affiliation between Crete and the civilisations of Anatolia, and he went as far as to postulate a population influx from western Anatolia to Crete in the Early Bronze Age.83 Within this context, the symbol of the double axe came to acquire an especial significance due to its frequency in Bronze Age Crete and in Caria during the Classical period as the attribute of Zeus Labraundos (Figure 2). According to Plutarch, writing in the late first/early second century ad, the cult of Zeus Labraundos in Caria was named after the Lydian word for 81 82

83

Zachariadou 1983: xxxiv. Zachariadou 1983: xxxii. The Venetians established official commercial relations with the Seljuks at the beginning of the thirteenth century ; from ad 1300 onwards, evidence for contact between Crete and Anatolia becomes increasingly frequent (4). The Genoese also concluded treaties with a number of the Turkish emirates during this period; see Fleet 1999: 10–12. While a number of anti-Turkish leagues were joined by the Venetians during this period, for example the Smyrniote crusades (1343–1351), commercial links with Anatolia were more pragmatic; Fleet 1999: 10. Evans 1928: II. 268.

17

The Labrys and the Labyrinth

(a)

(b)

Figure 2 Tetradrachm of Maussollos, fourth century bc (a) Obverse: Zeus Osogō standing left, holding a trident and an eagle (b) Reverse: Zeus Labraundos standing right, holding a double axe and a sceptre; MA inscribed field left

the double axe, labrys: in Greek Questions 45, he asked why the deity carried the pelekus (axe) instead of the thunderbolt or sceptre, and his answer traced the origins of the double axe to the Amazons. When Herakles had slain the Amazon queen Hippolyte, he gave her double axe to the Lydian queen Omphale; it was then passed on to successive Lydian rulers, before arriving in the hands of Kandaules. When Kandaules was defeated in battle, after the revolt of Gyges, the double axe passed into the possession of a certain Arselis of Mylasa, who took the double axe to Caria: ‘he constructed a statue of Zeus and placed the axe in its hand, and called the god Labrandeos; for the Lydians call the axe labrys’.84 M. Mayer first proposed an etymological link between this Lydian word for the double axe, labrys, and the Greek word labyrinthos in 1892.85 This idea was revived after the excavations of Evans on Crete revealed the frequent occurrence of the symbol of the double axe across the island. The myth of the labyrinth of Minos and the Minotaur on Crete was well known in antiquity, 84

85

Plut. Quaes. Gr. 45: καὶ Διὸς ἄγαλμα κατασκευάσας τὸν πέλεκυν ἐνεχείρισε, καὶ Λαβρανδέα τὸν θεὸν προσηγόρευσε· Λυδοὶ γάρ ‘λάβρυν’ τὸν πέλεκυν ὀνομάζουσι. Mayer 1892: 191. A similar link was made separately by Kretschmer 1896: 304. Cf. Valério 2015: 331–332.

17

18

Introduction

and led Evans to suggest that the labyrinth was, in origin, ‘the House of the Double Axe’.86 Occurrences of the double axe were widespread on Crete, most famously as the attribute of the primary Cretan goddess (often equated with the Mother Goddess),87 and the symbol became central to Evans’ hypothesis that Minoan culture was associated with the civilisations of the Near East. In Evans’ formulation, ‘the fetish cult of the Double Axe is inseparable from that of the Carian labrys which survived in the worship of the Zeus of Labraunda’.88 The double axe served as a tangible manifestation of the connection between the Bronze Age cultures of Anatolia and Crete. This notion of an early cultural link with Anatolia came to characterise early research into the ‘Minoan’ and ‘Mycenaean’ cultures that dominated the Aegean during the second millennium bc , and the relationship with Caria drew particular attention. W. Dörpfeld went as far as to postulate that the Carians were the originators of the Aegean civilisation, responsible for the early palace structures on Crete;89 similarly, U.  Köhler connected the Mycenaean civilisation with the ‘Carian thalassocracy’ known from literature.90 This ‘Carian hypothesis’, as David Mackenzie termed it,91 was criticised by W.R. Paton and J.L. Myres after their research in southwestern Anatolia in the late nineteenth century revealed little evidence for Bronze Age contact with the Aegean.92 But the notion of links between the Near East, Anatolia and the Aegean continued to influence scholarship into the twentieth century.93 86 87

88 89 90 91 92

93

Evans 1901: 109, with n. 7. A schist mould from Palaikastro depicts the goddess holding a double axe in both hands (Waites 1923: 27, fig. 1). A Bronze Age signet ring from Mycenae also appears to depict a goddess with the double axe (Evans 1928: II, part I, 341, fig. 194e). There is further more general evidence for the cultic associations of the double axe, for example on the Hagia Triada sarcophagus (Evans 1921: I. 438–440, fig. 317); the so-called ‘Shrine of the Double Axe’ (Evans 1928: II, part I, 335–344) and ‘Tomb of the Double Axes’ (Evans 1914) at Knossos both contained oversized ornamental double axes. At the Diktaean Cave, a number of small apparently votive double axes were discovered. The appearance of the double axe alongside the horns of consecration, another familiar religious motif, appears to confirm the religious significance of the double axe. Double axes were also employed as tools, while the inscription of double axes on walls and pillars at Knossos have been interpreted as mason marks. Evans 1912: 279. Mackenzie 1905–1906: 216. Mackenzie 1905–1906: 217. Mackenzie 1905–1906: 216–217. Paton and Myres 1896: 265. See Chapter 3 for a discussion of the current state of archaeological research into Bronze Age Caria. Picard (1948: 225) thought that ‘primitive’ Greek religion found its origins in Anatolia and further east: ‘le caractère anatolien de la religion grecque primitive, jusqu’à l’épopée d’Homère, où Troyens et Grecs se partagent les faveurs, les colères d’un même Olympe, reste un indice

19

The Labrys and the Labyrinth

Figure 3 Excavations at Labraunda, 1948

Archaeologists working in southwestern Anatolia were also directed by considerations of contact with the Aegean. Axel Persson initiated the Swedish excavations at Labraunda in 1948 with the purpose of seeking evidence for contacts with Crete (Figure 3). As he wrote, ‘in my opinion, it is possible that the Carian syllabic signs originated directly from the Minoan and did not travel via the Cypriot script’.94 During his excavations at Labraunda, he was hoping to find bilingual inscriptions in Carian and a proto-Carian script: ‘as written documents from the second millennium bc are known both from Crete in the west and the Hittites in the east, there should be a possibility to find inscriptions from the same period in Caria’. He hypothesised that this earlier script might be connected with the ancient scripts of Crete, and thus aid in their decipherment: ‘such an intermediate link might lead to the final solution of the Minoan script

94

révélateur en ce sens’ (the Anatolian character of primitive Greek religion, until the epic of Homer, in which Trojans and Greeks shared the favours and wraths of a common Olympos, remains a revealing clue in this sense). Cf. Burkert 1992; West 1997. Persson 1948: 8; with thanks to Pontus Hellström for the translation. See also Hellström 2007: 49–50.

19

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Introduction

problem’.95 Persson’s excavations in southwestern Anatolia were directed towards probing the idea of a linguistic and cultural affinity between Caria and Crete, and in this endeavour he was not alone: research began at the coastal site of Iasos in Caria under Italian directorship in 1960 in the hope of discovering evidence for early Minoan and Mycenaean interaction with southwestern Anatolia. It is tempting to regard the prominence of the double axe at Labraunda as one of the main motivations behind Persson’s choice of the site as the place to conduct his investigations. But what value, if any, is the symbol of the double axe to the study of Carian–Cretan interaction? With the available evidence, a direct correspondence between the occurrences of the double axe on Crete and in Anatolia cannot be established: the symbol disappeared from Crete in the tenth century bc , while the main evidence for the double axe in western Anatolia dates to the Classical period, with the employment of the image of Zeus Labraundos on Hekatomnid coinage in the fourth century bc .96 There are potential iconographic parallels for the double axe in Hittite imagery, for instance at the sanctuary at Yazılıkaya, near the Hittite capital of Hattuša. A series of reliefs dated to the late thirteenth century bc depict a processional scene of deities; behind the central female figure, a younger male deity, identified as the Hurrian deity Šarruma, is depicted standing on a panther and carrying what appears to be a double axe.97 More broadly, the axe appears to have been endowed with a symbolic value as a weapon.98 Such evidence raises the possibility that the symbolic value of the double axe in Classical Caria could be connected with precedents in Hittite iconography; however, we should be wary of drawing direct links between the cultures of the Hittites and Bronze Age Caria. Our current understanding of the geography of the Bronze Age western Anatolia is far from complete: Hittite texts refer to the kingdoms of Arzawa and Mira, which broadly covered the region from the coast to the area later occupied by Phrygia; there are also references to the Lukka Lands, equated to the Classical Lycia, and Karkisa/Karkiya, which some scholars believe may cover an area similar to later Caria.99 While these regions were in contact with, and linguistically 95 96

97 98

99

Persson 1948: 8. See Konuk 2013. The double axe also appears on the coinage of the island of Tenedos, off the coast of Anatolia, in the fifth century bc (SNG Copenhagen Troas nos. 505–522). On Yazılıkaya, see Seeher 2011. A figure is depicted holding an axe, apparently as a weapon, on the King’s Gate at Boğazkale; though there is no indication that the figure is divine. From the Assyrian realm, a frieze from Nimrud depicts a statue of the thundergod Adad being carried by Assurbanipal’s soldiers, and in his right hand he carries a single-bladed axe (Blinkenberg 1911: 24, fig. 11). Cf. Cook 1908. See below: p. 115.

21

The Labrys and the Labyrinth

affiliated to the regions and kingdoms of central Anatolia, it does not follow that their cultural and religious practices were indistinguishable; crucially, there is no secure evidence of the axe serving as a divine attribute in the Hittite realm. The region later identified as Caria, in particular the coastal areas, was oriented more towards the cultures of the Aegean.100 Indeed, the only attestations of the double axe in western Anatolia during the Bronze Age seem to arise as a result of contact with the Mycenaean realm. At Miletos, a fragment of a Mycenaean pot decorated with a double axe has been discovered,101 while at Ephesos a Mycenaean double axe was discovered in the east area of the temple courtyard.102 In antiquity the link extrapolated by Mayer and Evans between the Lydian labrys and the labyrinth of Minos was not made: Herodotus wrote that the labyrinth was of Egyptian origin, and there are no other traditions in support of an Anatolian link.103 The connection between the labrys and Labraunda was only made in Plutarch; elsewhere Aelian wrote that Zeus received the title Labraundeus because ‘he sent down furious (λάβρος) and heavy rainstorms’.104 While numerous traditions in antiquity connected the Carians and the Cretans, the double axe as a visual link between Crete and Anatolia was nowhere made. But consideration of the problem illustrates the issues involved in the study of cultural interaction in the ancient world, and the perils of tracing derivation. If a clear connection between the double axe in Caria and Crete existed, an overlap in the significance of the symbol would be expected. A symbol can have a variety of meanings in different contexts, and functions through the associations it evokes; with regard to the question of interaction it is not enough to simply identify where the double axe occurred as a symbol, and thereby reconstruct lines of contact and interchange. Establishing the meanings of a symbol in the first instance is not without complications, as a symbol is often employed as ‘shorthand’: its associations did not require explanation to a contemporary audience. There is also the question of what degree of correlation between two contexts is required. A direct replication of practices might serve as an indicator of contact, but would similarities in cultural or religious forms be equally suggestive? How similar do such practices have to be to allow us to postulate the influence of one society on another, rather than a parallel development in two different contexts? 100 101 102 103 104

Mountjoy 1998. See Chapter 3. Niemeier 2005: 5. Bammer and Muss 1996: 27. Hdt. 2. 148. 1–2. Ael. Nat. Anim. 12. 30: Ζεὺς δὲ Λαβρανδεὺς ὕσας λάβρῳ καὶ πολλῷ τὴν ἐπωνυμίαν τήνδε ἠνέγκατο.

21

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Introduction

The question of the origins of the labrys ultimately remains intractable. The evidence is such that we cannot prove a direct connection; but neither can we assert that the high symbolic value of the double axe found in both contexts was entirely unrelated. It is possible to envisage a common source for the proliferation of the double axe in Crete and in Anatolia, borne out in some way by early channels of cultural exchange. This notion has many critics, who rightly stress the inherent difficulties with the evidence; yet they often substantiate their arguments through recourse to this same body of evidence. The close association of the double axe with a female deity on Crete, for instance, has been cited as evidence for its distinction from the double axe in Caria, as in Anatolia it is primarily the attribute of Zeus.105 However this does not allow for the potential adaptation in significance in different regions and in different periods. Furthermore, such a clear division between male and female divinities does not stand up to scrutiny.106 According to Plutarch, the double axe was closely associated with the Amazons in Anatolia, and the labrys of Zeus Labraundos had originally belonged to the Amazonian queen Hippolyte.107 M. Haysom has recently sought to analyse the contextual associations of the double axe on Crete during different periods, and has concluded that secure evidence for the double axe as an object of cult on Crete, and its association with a female deity, only occurs in Late Minoan II–III contexts (roughly c.1500–1350 bc ).108 While the association of the double axe with the goddess was important, it served as one of her various attributes rather than denoting divinity. The significance of the symbol was both wider and antedated any visible association with the female deity. The main problem in seeking an affiliation between the double axe on Crete and the labrys in Anatolia remains the widely different time periods 105

106

107

108

Vanschoonwinkel 2004. Cf. Waites 1923: ‘the predominance of the female over the male element in divinity, manifested in the religions of both Crete and Anatolia, makes it antecedently probable that the axe originally belonged rather to the Mother-Goddess than to the Father-God’. Cf. Cook (1925: 559ff.), who noted that the double axe was associated with male as well as female deities. The Amazons were claimed as founders at a number of sites in Anatolia (although not in Caria), including Ephesos and Smyrna; Roman coin types from both these cities frequently depicted their Amazonian founders with the double axe. See now Blok 1996. In the Hellenistic and Roman periods, the symbol also served as an attribute of female deities in a number of cities in Anatolia, albeit less frequently; for example, at Nysa (Cook 1925: 564, fig. 452), on the northern side of the Maeander. According to Appian (BC 1. 11. 97), Sulla dedicated a golden double axe to Aphrodite at Aphrodisias during his campaign in the region. The double axe appears on a number of coin types of the second/first century bc foundation of Aphrodisias/ Plarasa, although it is not clear to which deity it may refer. Haysom 2010, esp. 40ff.

23

The Labrys and the Labyrinth

from which our evidence derives; even if the ritual and cultic significance attached to a specifically double axe in these two regions may be connected in origin, the subsequent reception and development of the symbol within each context would have been separate. There was always the potential for adaptation and elaboration in the process of communication, with a number of different stages involved in the processes of cultural exchange. A direct correlation between the cultural significance assigned to an object by the producer and the recipient should not be expected; the receiving culture would interpret a new form or idea in its own cultural context, and thus its significance could shift during the process of incorporation.109 Processes of cultural interaction would also not be unilateral: influence could be continual and mutual.110 The meanings of a symbol had the potential to change over time as it came to be used in new contexts, or lose some of its associations; in this way, the origins of the symbolism of the double axe became obscured by later accretions. Returning to Persson’s theory of a linguistic affiliation between Anatolia and Crete, the advances in our understanding of the languages of Anatolia, including Carian, and the decipherment of Linear B have served to disprove his notion of a direct linguistic affinity. As noted above, Carian is closely connected to Luwian, and both belong to the Anatolian branch of Indo-European. The language of the Linear B tablets, on the other hand, has been shown to be an early form of Greek.111 However, such a corrective to certain aspects of early thinking need not lead us to discard the broader implications, namely the hypothesis that the Bronze Age cultures of western Anatolia and Crete were in contact with, and influenced, one another.112 In the study of cultural interaction, rather than categorising elements as ‘Eastern’ or ‘Greek’, the emphasis is better placed on the mobility of individuals in the networks of the Aegean, and their role as agents of social and cultural exchange. Mayer’s proposal of a connection between the Lydian word labrys and the Greek word labyrinth in the late nineteenth century has now been questioned by scholars. Yet with our increasing knowledge of the languages of Anatolia, new etymological links between these languages

109

110 111

112

Ulf 2009: 86–88, breaks down the different stages involved in cultural exchange: the culture of origin for a certain form or idea (the producer), the channels of transmission for this form (the transmitter), and how it is received by the recipient culture. Ulf 2009: 90. Though they do all belong to the Indo-European linguistic family, indicating a broader linguistic affinity. Yakubovich 2008: 127–128, for the evidence of contact between Luwian and Greek.

23

24

Introduction

and early forms of Greek continue to be proposed. I. Yakubovich has suggested that both labyrinth and Labraunda could be connected to the Hittite/ Luwian word tabarna/labarna, the meaning of which was related to kingly power.113 The similarity between the Greek word for the double axe, pelekus, and the Carian names plqo (Pellekōs or Pelekōs in Greek) and pλeqs (transcribed as Peldēkos) has also long been noted.114 The presence of a certain Πελεϙος Οὐδαμου among the inscriptions of Abu Simbel in Egypt is almost certainly a dedication by a mercenary bearing a Carian name, ‘Peleqos son of Eudamos’.115 However, in the wake of its initial discovery, and perhaps due to the apparent Dorian character of the inscription, the proposal arose that the scribe was not a man at all, but ‘axe son of nobody’.116 I. Adiego has since argued against a connection between the Carian name and the Greek axe,117 but the possibility of linguistic borrowings between Greek and the languages of Anatolia remains a fertile area of research. Linear A is yet to be deciphered, and the notion of a link with the languages of Anatolia continues to be actively pursued.118 The population movements suggested by Evans, or the so-called ‘Carian hypothesis’, now seem outdated; but the underlying assumptions of contact and exchange remain pertinent, and the role of Anatolia in the networks of the ancient world is increasingly being considered as instrumental in discussions of cultural interaction.119 With regard to the symbol of the double axe, the evidence is too problematic, and our parameters too flexible, to offer any definitive answers about the question of interaction; yet that does not mean that the notion of a connection between its occurrence in Crete 113

114 115

116

117 118

119

Yakubovich 2002; cf. Melchert 2003c: 19. Labarna was one of the early Hittite kings, and possibly the founder of the dynasty; see now Bryce 2003: 46ff. However, see the reservations of Valério (2015), who separates the origins of labyrinth and the Anatolian labarna. Another recent proposition has connected the name of Labraunda to the Hittite word -wanta, meaning ‘rich in’, and labra, which may be connected to laparsa, meaning some form of plant; Hellström (2009: 271, with n. 21) suggested that it may be connected to the plane trees at Labraunda, commented on by Herodotus (5. 119. 2). Adiego 2007: 399–400. Cf. Adiego 1994: 37. Masson 2000. The name of the father, Eudamos, is a widespread Dorian name, particularly frequent on Kos and Rhodes; Masson thus suggests (217) that Peleqos’ father might have married a Carian woman, which would serve to explain his choice of a Carian name for his son. Harrison 1927: 2–3. This proposal still finds popularity in a number of discussions of the inscription. Adiego 1994; 2007: 399. Finkelberg 2005: 52, suggests a link with Lycian. Singer (2000: 25) writes that such an affiliation would not be unexpected: ‘the entire Aegean basin must be considered to have been a basically homogenous cultural koine already in the second millennium bce ’. See Collins et al. 2008. Cf. Csapo 2005: 67–79, on the similarities between Hittite and Greek myths.

25

Network Formation and Cultural Exchange

and Anatolia should not be considered. As David Mackenzie observed in the early stages of the twentieth century, while it is not possible to substantiate the origin or direction of influence, there remains the valid alternative that ‘the roots may be cognate without there having been derivation one way or the other’.120 The communities of the Aegean and Anatolia were part of the same overlapping networks, facilitating the flow of people, objects and ideas in the ancient world. In this context, it is possible to envisage the double axe as a kind of ‘proto-symbol’, which was adopted and adapted in different regions; in origin the occurrences of the symbol in Anatolia and Crete may have been affiliated, but the development of their imagery was distinct.

Network Formation and Cultural Exchange Throughout antiquity individuals were travelling between communities and cities, in pursuit of exchange or commercial opportunities, diplomatic endeavours or for reasons of war, to name but a few motivations. Tracing the volume and frequency of such contact is a difficult task: the evidence that remains is fragmentary and only reveals a fraction of the interaction that actually occurred. The ramifications of such connectivity are even more problematic to reconstruct; while we know that individuals were coming into contact with people(s) from outside their immediate sphere, and that this led to some level of social and/or cultural confrontation and interaction, we are largely dealing with processes that leave little discernible record. But the potential implications are wide-reaching, and despite the inherent difficulties, the effects of such interaction remain crucial to our understanding of the ancient world; both in terms of how travel and mobility could affect the transmission of cultural and religious ideas, and how this could influence the long-standing cultural orientation of a region. The term ‘network’ has been utilised thus far to refer to the spheres in which people moved in the ancient world, in particular to evoke the complex of maritime routes linking Caria and Crete. Its employment in the remainder of the book will continue to be primarily descriptive; however, 120

Mackenzie 1905–6: 219. As was common in the early twentieth century, Mackenzie’s discussion is largely focused on the notion of the racial origins of the Aegean civilisations; he dismisses the hypothesis that the civilisation of Minoan Crete originated in Caria, but continues that this ‘does not equally exclude the possibility of racial affinity between the peoples of the provinces in question’.

25

26

Introduction

it is worth reflecting in greater detail on the implications of such terminology. The past decades have witnessed an escalation in interest in the applicability of a network approach in an ancient context, most notably in the work of I. Malkin and the archaeologist C. Knappett.121 It has much to offer to the ancient historian as a way of framing discussions of interaction, and serves as a valuable tool for mapping connections between peoples and places;122 however, the applicability of some of the more technical aspects in an ancient context is not direct, and there is a tendency to speak in nonspecific terms. As Knappett writes, references to ‘networks’ within such discourse are often little more than a ‘handy metaphor’ to describe connections.123 This is primarily due to the nature of our evidence, as scholars of antiquity rarely have a complete dataset from which to plot and analyse a network.124 Individuals travelling along the navigational itineraries of the Mediterranean did leave some trace in the material record, primarily in the form of ceramics, and such material provides evidence for the movement of goods; yet it is often not possible to establish the circumstances of their exchange or to quantify the overall volume of interaction. The Uluburun shipwreck (late fourteenth century bc ) discovered off the coast of Lycia, for instance, offers an insight into the long-distance trade in the Mediterranean. The vessel was built of Lebanese wood and carried among its assemblage various raw materials, including copper and tin, as well as Canaanite and Cypriot pottery and luxury goods. It is thought that the vessel was sailing west from the Levant, with a final destination in the Aegean.125 We can use it to trace the movement of such goods and people in the maritime itineraries of the Mediterranean; but it offers only a snapshot of the traffic taking place, and we are not able to use the evidence to calculate the volume or frequency of such long-distance trade.126 Despite these inherent shortcomings of our data, a network perspective can do much to enhance the study of social and cultural interaction in an ancient context. The focus on the social ties that bind people and communities, and exploration of how individuals engaged with their environment and established connections,127 offers another way to frame discussions 121

122 123 124 125 126

127

Malkin 2003; 2011; Malkin, Constantakopoulou and Panagopoulou 2007; Knappett 2011; 2013a. See the comments of Zurbach 2012 on this trend. Malkin 2011: 17. See Knappett 2013b; Knappett, Evans and Rivers 2008. Knappett 2013b: 3. Terrell 2013: 20. Pulak 2010, with bibliography. Cf. Knappett 2013b: 8: in the field of archaeology, ‘we are engaged not so much in network analysis as network reconstruction’. Malkin 2011: 19.

27

Network Formation and Cultural Exchange

of cross-cultural interaction: rather than attempting to identify discrete cultures whose boundaries can be plotted on a map, it brings fields of mobility to the fore.128 Again, the observable patterns of connectivity are more often qualitative than quantitative. As we will see when plotting the awards of proxenia voted by the cities of Crete in the Hellenistic period, it is possible to trace the mobility of individuals to and from the island, though we cannot ascertain the overall number of such awards in antiquity, or determine the circumstances of their grant in the majority of cases.129 But the potential insights that a network perspective can offer were ably demonstrated by J. Ma in his application of the concept of ‘peer polity interaction’ to civic culture in the Hellenistic period.130 Ma sought to elucidate the Hellenistic networks of civic interaction between poleis within a ‘single interpretive picture’; as he writes, the ‘equipollent, interconnected communities’ must be considered ‘qua network rather than by trying to differentiate between core and periphery’.131 The network was created and perpetuated by the participation of the poleis in a shared civic culture, which depended on the institutions of the polis, and was not ethnically or geographically limited; links were forged through diplomacy, with ties of kinship frequently cited as a means of situating cities in a common mythological framework. Hellenistic Caria was integrated into the diplomatic networks of the Aegean through its participation in this shared cultural koine. But the involvement of Caria in the regional networks of the southeast Aegean was not time limited: Carian history across antiquity has to be written against a background of continual interaction with both east and west. The notion of Caria as an interface was mentioned at the beginning of this chapter, and is fundamental to the way in which Caria and the Carians are envisaged in this book. Rather than categorising Caria as a peripheral zone to the better documented civilisations of the Greek world and the Near East, I want to bring Caria into focus, and consider southwestern Anatolia as a cultural zone in its own right. The notion of an East Aegean/West Anatolian interface was first proposed by P.A. Mountjoy in reference to the peculiar material culture of this geographical region in the Late Bronze Age.132 Mountjoy identified a distinctive pottery type that was characteristic of the area, which had 128 129 130

131 132

Terrell 2013: 36 Discussed in Chapter 4. Ma 2003. The concept was first developed by the archaeologists C. Renfrew and J. Cherry 1986. Ma 2003: 15. Mountjoy 1998; 2015.

27

28

Introduction

absorbed influences from the Minoan and Mycenaean realms, as well as Anatolia, to create forms and motifs that were localised to the Dodekanese and coastal Anatolia.133 Interest in interaction between the eastern Aegean and western Anatolia has received renewed attention in the last decade, with scholars again focusing on cultural exchange and assimilation between east and west.134 I want to expand the applicability of the notion of Caria as an interface to define the history of the region in the longue durée. The cultural coherence of Caria across antiquity should not be presumed; a distinction between the coastal regions, which were more readily in contact with the cultures of the Aegean, and those areas located inland is noticeable in the available source material.135 As noted above, there are many difficulties in tracing when a clear sense of ‘Caria’ as a regional entity emerged, while trying to identify such a thing as ‘Carian’ material culture is also problematic. The point at which we can start to trace the history of the Carians already postdates the settlement of Greek speakers along the coast, and thus we are often dealing with the ‘entangled history’ of different cultures in the region.136 In his discussion of cultural exchange, C. Ulf categorised western Anatolia as a ‘zone of intense contact’, resulting in exchange and the creation of a culturally hybrid space.’137 I. Malkin has proposed applying the concept of the ‘middle ground’ in an ancient context to describe the encounters between settlers and ‘native populations’. In such an environment, the notions of overlap and hybridity are more applicable than the binary distinction between Greeks and Others,138 with the construction of what Malkin terms a ‘common and mutually comprehensible world’.139 Carian–Greek relations in Anatolia can be characterised by confrontation, accommodation and cooperation. The character of Caria was always shaped by interaction with the Aegean. That is not to say that ‘Carian’ as an ethnic or cultural label was intangible in the ancient world, but rather that it should not be isolated from the wider dynamics of the region in different 133 134

135 136 137 138 139

Mountjoy 1998: 37ff. As reflected in the titles of two recently published volumes: Collins et al. 2008, Anatolian Interfaces: Hittites, Greeks and their Neighbours, and Stampolidis et al. 2015, Nostoi. Indigenous Culture, Migration and Integration in the Aegean Islands and Western Anatolia during the Late Bronze and Early Iron Age. Cf. Debord 2005. Ulf 2009: 82. Ulf 2009: 95–97. Malkin 2001b: 13–14. Malkin 2011: 46. Cf. Malkin 2001b; 2005. The term was initially employed by White 1991, to characterise the contact between the French and the American Indian tribe of the Alonquin in the late seventeenth century ad. See the comments of Ulf 2009: 97–99.

29

Approaching Carian–Cretan Interaction

periods. Chapter 1 will begin by approaching the question of how to define Caria and the Carians in our source material. The perspective offered by a network approach can here help to frame the issues involved, centralising communication and interchange, rather than drawing a clear divide between the Carians and their Greek neighbours.

Approaching Carian–Cretan Interaction The persistence of the claimed connection between Caria and Crete, and its manifold strands, offers the opportunity to explore the evidence from a number of angles and in different historical contexts. This book will examine the factors that could have prompted the recollection of an affiliation between Caria and Crete among the communities of both regions, and consider what the affiliation meant in a Carian context. As seen, a prominent strand of the myth linking the Carians with Minos held that the Carians had originally inhabited the Aegean islands. The traditions are not in themselves consistent: the narratives in which the Carians inhabited the islands under the rule of Minos do not involve the migration of Cretans to the coast of Anatolia, but rather the movement of the Carians themselves to mainland Anatolia. Local and civic mythologies, on the other hand, tend to stress the arrival of the Cretans. Another tradition, recorded by Aelian in the early third century ad, recorded that the Carians were named after Kar, the son of Zeus and Crete, thus apparently embracing both the Cretan link and the Carian claim of autochthony.140 It is not my intention to reconcile the different strands; as we will see, ancient mythologies are characterised by their contradictions and inconsistencies.141 Rather I want to consider what the central mytheme of contact between Carians and Cretans can reveal about the social and cultural orientation of Caria, and how it was received by the Carians in different periods.142 In order to understand the traditions connecting Caria with Crete, we must develop a way of analysing how, for what purpose, and in what context, these narratives were told. Chapter 2 focuses on the theoretical

140 141

142

Ael. Nat. Anim. 12. 30: ἐκλήθησαν δὲ τὸ ὄνομα τοῦτο ἀπὸ Καρὸς τοῦ Κρήτης καὶ Διός. Cf. Mac Sweeney 2015b: 1–3, on the coexistence of Athenian claims of autochthony with those that claimed their Ionian origins. Here I agree with Bachvarova (2015: 154) that the traditions recorded in the Greek sources should not be separated from ‘Carian’ narratives, and that it is possible to speak of an ‘Anatolian perspective’: ‘the Anatolians did not passively accept the Greek versions of events but responded to them’.

29

30

Introduction

questions involved in utilising mythological traditions from a historical perspective, and discusses the numerous local histories, mythologies and cults of Caria, both on a polis and a regional level, which reflected or claimed Cretan influence in the region. While the familiar tradition linking the Carians with the Crete of Minos may have informed and provided a useful background to the numerous manifestations of a Cretan link, it does not in itself explain the wide scope of the evidence. Chapter 3 then focuses on the question of origins, examining the evidence for interaction between Crete and southwestern Anatolia in the Bronze Age, and considering whether it is possible to trace the root of the later claimed affiliations back to this period of contact. The last decades have witnessed a renewed interest in the Bronze Age archaeology of western Anatolia, in particular its interaction with the Aegean. Such a trend has encouraged a re-evaluation of the possible connection between archaeological evidence and later tradition; rather than reading mythologies of earlier contacts, affinities and kinship between peoples solely as constructs of later periods, scholars are again questioning whether early interaction could be reflected or refracted in later conceptions of history.143 While it is not possible to prove a direct correspondence, the notion of early mobility between the regions of Caria and Crete emerges strongly in both forms of evidence. I address the potential problems and insights of such an approach, and take seriously the proposition that the mythologies linking Caria and Crete could preserve a residuum of ‘real’ mobility. The way in which a community ‘remembered’ or ‘recalled’ its past reflected something about the society in the present: traditions were transmitted across generations because they retained their relevance to communal identity. Chapter 4 turns to the Hellenistic period, and considers how claims of a Carian–Cretan link could have been affected by actual contacts between the two regions: diplomatic, economic, cultural and military. I trace the mobility between Caria and Crete during this period, and examine how the expanded parameters of the Hellenistic world precipitated the creation of a cultural koine, in which the communities of Caria fully participated. One noticeable trend to emerge during this period is the renewed interest in civic histories and mythologies; I explore how the Cretan link was employed in this context to locate Carian narratives in the mythological framework of the wider Greek-speaking world. Chapter 5 then focuses on the civic reception and utilisation of such mythologies as revealed through a case study from Magnesia-on-the-Maeander. In the later stages of the 143

See Sourvinou-Inwood 2005; Herda 2009.

31

Approaching Carian–Cretan Interaction

third century bc , the Magnesians composed and inscribed a version of their history that emphasised the links of the city with Crete. The text, and the context in which it was inscribed, offer a direct insight into Magnesian civic engagement with their mythological past, and I consider how this version of Magnesian history may have been affected by the wider social and political context. Chapter 6 then concentrates on another case study and returns to the theme of mobility as an instigator of cultural exchange, as revealed in the Hellenistic cult of a ‘Cretan-born’ Zeus in Caria. I deconstruct the mechanisms of cultural interaction, and explore how the movement of individuals between Caria and Crete may have had repercussions in the religious realm. The persistence of a Cretan link in Carian civic mythologies and cults indicates that Crete somehow remained ‘good to think with’ in a Carian context. This book seeks to explain why by examining interaction between Caria and the island in different historical periods, and considering what an affiliation with Crete could have added to the perception of local identities. Such a project will obviously face limitations with evidence, and it is not possible to trace contacts across antiquity. But the picture to emerge is one of continual interaction:  Carian involvement with the Aegean was a consistent aspect of its history, and helped to define the social and cultural identity of the region.

31

1

Articulating a ‘Carian’ Identity

Caria was geographically recognised in antiquity as the region south of the Maeander River, extending east to the Salbakos Mountains; it shared borders with Lydia to the north, Phrygia to the east and Lycia to the southeast (Map 2). The ‘Carians’ as an ethnos are more difficult to define, and, as noted in the Introduction, the social cohesiveness of the region should not be presumed, particularly between the coast and the interior. Strabo, writing in the Augustan period, describes a complex cultural environment in the Maeander plain, inhabited by ‘Lydians and Carians mixed with Greeks’,1 while further east towards the Taurus mountains, he speaks of the Phrygian, Carian, Lydian and Mysian parts as ‘so inwoven that they are hard to distinguish, since they merge into one another’.2 The onomastic evidence from Caria appears to confirm regional differentiation, with eastern areas displaying closer affinities with neighbouring Pisidia and Phrygia.3 It is possible that Caria as a clearly demarcated geographical region originated as an administrative unit within a larger empire. In the Achaemenid Empire, Caria was referred to as Karkā and constituted one of their provinces, which may in turn have been inherited from the Lydian Empire.4 A  similar model appears to have been adopted by the Athenians in the fifth century bc for the collection of tribute from the communities of western Anatolia, with the inclusion of a Karikos phoros in the tribute lists.5 1

2

3 4

32

5

Strab. 14. 1. 38: ἔστι δὲ καὶ τὰ χωρία ταῦτα Λυδοῖς καὶ Καρσὶν ἐπίμικτα καὶ τοῖς Ἕλλησι. Cf. Strab. 14. 1. 42, where he talks of the Maeander plain as ‘occupied by Lydians and Carians, and by Ionians, both Milesians and Myesians, and also by the Aiolians of Magnesia’ (τὸ Μαιάνδρου πεδίον, Λυδῶν ἅμα καὶ Καρῶν νεμομένων καὶ Ἰώνων Μιλησίων τε καὶ Μυησίων, ἔτι δὲ Αἰολέων τῶν ἐν Μαγνησίᾳ). Strab. 13. 4. 12: τὰ δ᾽ ἑξῆς ἐπὶ τὰ νότια μέρη τοῖς τόποις τούτοις ἐμπλοκὰς ἔχει μέχρι πρὸς τὸν Ταῦρον, ὥστε καὶ τὰ Φρύγια καὶ τὰ Καρικὰ καὶ τὰ Λύδια καὶ ἔτι τὰ τῶν Μυσῶν δυσδιάκριτα εἶναι, παραπίπτοντα εἰς ἄλληλα. Cf. Strabo 12. 7. 2, where the city of Tabai is described as ‘on the borders of the Phrygians and Caria’; Stephanus of Byzantium (s.v. Τάβαι) records that the city is a πόλις Λυδίας, at the same time quoting an oracle regarding the foundation of the city that refers to the inhabitants as ‘Pisidians’. LGPN VB, xxxi–xxxii. DNa, l. 30; XPh, l. 28. Cf. Eilers 1935. The Carians were known as Krs in Demotic Egyptian, and Kars- in Babylonian; in Aramaic, Caria was KRK, while the Old Persian form was Karka; see Simon 2015: 794. Cf. Rutherford 2006: 137ff. IG 13 271, Col. I-II, 63; 272, Col. I-II, 67. Cf. Debord 2003: 116.

3

Articulating a ‘Carian’ Identity

However, such a division does not seem to have been an attempt to organise the subjects along ethnic lines, and the Carian group incorporated the Dorian foundations along the coast as well as the neighbouring islands, including Rhodes; the subsequent integration of this tributary division in the Ionian phoros further suggests that such a grouping was largely a matter of convenience. In the fourth century bc , Caria was again incorporated into Persian territory, and constituted a separate satrapy that was ruled by the local Hekatomnid dynasts, who were natives of Mylasa.6 In the wake of Alexander’s conquests, southwestern Anatolia served as a meeting ground between the various Hellenistic kingdoms vying for dominance, and Caria was never fully incorporated into one particular domain. Under Roman rule, some level of stability was restored, and Caria again became a distinct province in the third/fourth century ad ; as a geographical unit, this nomenclature continued in use into the Byzantine period.7 The extent to which this spatial perception of Caria can be equated to a sense of a Carian identity is complicated. Indeed, a coherent and unified conception of the ‘Carians’ should not be envisaged. But for all the complexities in trying to define Caria, the significance of this element of regional history persisted across antiquity.8 This chapter is focused on examining the ways in which the communities of southwestern Anatolia responded to the Carian aspects of their history, and what such a label signified in the construction of local identities, through consideration of the role of language and local mythologies in the articulation of identity.9 There are notable deficiencies in our source material for such a task: the majority of our evidence dates to the Classical period or later, and is transmitted in the Greek language. It is known that regional histories were written in antiquity; notably, Philip of Theangela and Apollonius of Aphrodisias served as chroniclers of Carian matters (albeit writing in Greek) during the Hellenistic period, though only fragments now remain.10 The majority of our sources thus preserve the Greek perspective of Caria and its inhabitants, and a dominant theme to emerge casts the Carians in the mould of 6 7

8 9

10

On this dynasty, see Hornblower 1982; Ruzicka 1992. Cf. Henry 2013. Roueché 1981: 118ff.: initially it was a joint province of Caria and Phrygia, with Aphrodisias as the metropolis. Ruggieri (2009: 207) notes that the term ‘Caria’ is used in the acts of the Second Council of Nikaia in ad  787. See Reger 2007a. There are a number of different indicia of identity, including onomastics, social practices and material culture (see Hall 1997: 20ff.); due to limitations of space, this discussion will not be exhaustive, but will focus on the role of language and the employment of identity labels. Philip: FGrH 741 (cf. Strab. 14. 2. 28); Apollonios: FGrH 740. Another work on Caria is known, although the author remains unknown: FGrH 742.

33

34

Articulating a ‘Carian’ Identity

the quintessential ‘barbarians’. In this role the Carians fulfilled a particular purpose within Greek discourse, especially in the attempts of the Ionian and Dorian communities of the coast to distinguish themselves from their non-Greek neighbours. However, such a narrative does not reflect the realities of interaction in the region, nor does it offer an insight into how the Carians themselves responded to their non-Hellenic origins.11 The Greek conception of the Carians thus requires deconstruction before the question of how the inhabitants of Caria articulated their identity can be addressed.

‘The Carians of Barbarian Speech’ The Carians first appear in the Greek literary sources in Homer; in the Iliad, Nastes is said to have led ‘the Carians of barbarian speech’ (barbarophōnoi) in the Trojan alliance. They are described as holding ‘Miletos and the mountain of Phthires, dense with its leafage, and the streams of Maeander, and the steep crests of Mykale’.12 As noted, the envisaged extent of Caria in Homer was more confined than the later recognised regional boundaries, concentrated in the area around the mouth of the Maeander. Ancient impressions of the Carians stressed their involvement in the networks of the Aegean. The traditions claiming the Carian settlement of the islands were discussed in the Introduction, while other sources preserve the widespread reputation of the Carians as mercenaries in the ancient world. In the seventh century bc , Archilochus writes that ‘I shall be called a mercenary (epikouros) like a Carian (Kar)’, suggesting that their association with this profession was already ingrained in Greek thought at this early date.13 Herodotus records that both Carian and Ionian mercenaries were found in the employ of the Egyptian pharaohs. Psammetichos I (664–610 bc ), for instance, enlisted a group of Carians and Ionians, who had been voyaging for plunder, to help him defeat the eleven kings and gain the throne.14 11 12

13 14

Bresson 2007b, esp. 223–224. Hom. Il. 2. 867–869: Νάστης αὖ Καρῶν ἡγήσατο βαρβαροφώνων, οἳ Μίλητον ἔχον Φθιρῶν τ᾽ ὄρος ἀκριτόφυλλον Μαιάνδρου τε ῥοὰς Μυκάλης τ᾽ αἰπεινὰ κάρηνα. Herda (2009: 43) equates the mountain of Phthires with Latmos; Mykale is located on the north side of the bay from Miletos, in the vicinity of Priene. Fr. 216: καὶ δὴ ’πίκουρος ὥστε Κὰρ κεκλήσομαι. Cf. Herda 2013: 422. Hdt. 2. 152–154. According to Herodotus, Psammetichos received an oracle that he would have vengeance on those who had expelled him when ‘he saw men of bronze coming from the sea’ (ἦλθε χρησμὸς ὡς τίσις ἥξει ἀπὸ θαλάσσης χαλκέων ἀνδρῶν ἐπιφανέντων); thus when the men from Caria and Ionia were forced by bad weather to land on the Egyptian coast in their armour, Psammetichos believed this was in fulfilment of the oracle and persuaded them to enter his service.

35

35

‘The Carians of Barbarian Speech’

Notion

OGIS M. MESS

Ephesos Pygela

TH

ar sy a

s

OS TM

Xystis

M.

Latmos

Herakleia Salbake

Bargasa Hyllarima

Alinda

Herakleia IO N

Aphrodisias

Plarasa

Alabanda

LA

Miletos G R

Laodikeia

s

Amyzon Myus

Antiocheia/ Maeander

as o rp

Priene

s

MYK AL E

M.

Harpasa

Orthosia

Ha

Karion

M.

AX OR

M

SAMOS

der Ma ean

Tralleis

no rsy Mo

Marathesion

Hierapolis

Nysa

Magnesia/ Maeander

Tabai

Kys

Labraunda Pidasa Lagina Euromos Teichioussa Chalketor Stratonikeia Mylasa Iasos Hydai Panamara Sinuri Passala Kindye Bargylia Pisye Hydissos Kildara Thera Pladasa Myndos Syangela Idyma Kyllandos Pedasa Ouranion Keramos Theangela Halikarnassos Kedreai Kodapa L F U G I C Physkos A M Kaunos KOS R C E . M

Didyma

Apollonia Salbake

S SO

Old Knidos

SYME

Loryma C

H

ER

SO

N

Daidaia

Krya

Lissa

E

Knidos

os

Kalynda

Amos

NISYROS

I nd

Telmessos

TELOS

Kamiros

CHALKE

RHODES 0 0

200 100

400 200

Map 2 Caria in the Hellenistic period

As a reward for their help, Psammetichos granted them two pieces of land opposite one another on each side of the Nile, which came to be known as ‘the Camps’ (Stratopeda).15 They were subsequently moved to Memphis by Amasis (570–526 bc ),16 and the existence of distinct neighbourhoods in the city appears to have endured: Stephanus of Byzantium, writing in the sixth century ad, makes reference to a ‘Greek quarter’ (Hellēnikon) and a ‘Carian quarter’ (Karikon) in Memphis, in which the populations were known as 15 16

Hdt. 2. 154. 1. Hdt. 2. 154. 3.

600 km 300 miles

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Articulating a ‘Carian’ Identity

Hellenomemphitai and Karomemphitai.17 In another episode, Apries (589– 570 bc ) employed a body of 30,000 Carians and Ionians against Amasis.18 A Carian presence in Egypt is happily confirmed by the presence of Carian texts in Egypt during the Archaic period;19 these include a group of funerary texts from Saqqara, a number of which are bilingual, supporting the settlement of Carians in the area of Memphis.20 Carian graffiti at Abu Simbel further attest to the inclusion of Carian mercenaries in the forces of Psammetichos II (595–589 bc ) in his Nubian Campaign of c.591 bc .21 A number of proverbs arose that played on this dominant impression of the Carians. The saying ‘the risk/experiment on the Carian’ (ἐν Καρὶ τὸν κίνδυνον) was used of those who run a risk on behalf of others, referring to the fact that mercenaries faced the dangers of combat first.22 Many of the sources are late: Apostolius, writing in the fifteenth century ad, explained that the particular association with the Carians arose as ‘the Carians introduced such worthlessness through their service for pay’.23 This hostile reading of the origin of the proverb may not coincide with earlier attitudes; though it does suggest that such ethnic stereotypes had a long tradition. The antiquity of the phrase is indicated by its usage in Euripides’ Cyclops,24 and by Plato in the Laches.25 Polybius, in the second century bc , records a similar variant: ‘let the attempt be for the Carian, as the proverb has it, and not for the general’.26 The frequent enslavement of the Carians was

17

18 19 20 21

22 23

24 25

26

Steph. Byz. s.v. Ἑλληνικόν καὶ Καρικόν, τόποι ἐν Μέμφιδι, ἀφ’ ὧν Ἑλληνομεμφῖται καὶ Καρομεμφῖται; Καρικόν, τόπος ἰδιάζων ἐν Μέμφιδι, ἔνθα Κᾶρες οἰ κήσαντες, ἐπιγαμίας πρὸς Μεμφίτας ποιησάμενοι, Καρομεμφῖται ἐκλήθησαν. Hdt. 2. 163. 1. See Introduction, n. 35. Adiego 2007: E. Me 9–46. Adiego 2007: 31. Herodotus (3. 11. 1) further recorded the employ of Greek and Carian soldiers by Psammetichos III (526–525 bc ) when confronted with the Persian invasion under Kambyses in 525 bc . See Archilochus Fr. 216 (Scholiast on Plato, Laches: ἐν τῷ Καρὶ ὑμῖν ὁ κίνδυνος). CPG Vol. II: Apostolius Centuria 7. 39: Ἐν Καρὶ τὸν κίνδυνον: τουτὲστιν, ἐν ἀλλοτρίοις σώμασι… εἰσάγονται δὲ οἱ Κᾶρες καὶ ὡς εὐτελεῖς, διὰ τὴν μισθοφορίαν. Cf. CPG Vol. II: Gregorius Cyprius Cod. Mosq. Centuria 3. 45: Ἐν Καρὶ τὸν κίνδυνον: ἀντὶ τοῦ· οὐ περὶ μεγάλων ὁ κίνδυνος. Eur. Cyclops 654: ἐν τῷ Καρὶ κινδυνεύσομεν, ‘let a Carian run the risk’. Pl. Lach. 187b: σκοπεῖν χρὴ μὴ οὐκ ἐν τῷ Καρὶ ὑμῖν ὁ κίνδυνος κινδυνεύηται, ἀλλ᾽ ἐν τοῖς ὑέσι τε καὶ ἐν τοῖς τῶν φίλων παισί (‘you must beware lest you try your experiment, not on the Carian, but on your sons and the children of your friends’); Euthyd. 285c: ὥσπερ ἐν Καρὶ ἐν ἐμοὶ ἔστω ὁ κίνδυνος (‘let the experiment be made on me as on the Carian’). Plb. 10. 32. 11: δεῖ γὰρ ἐν Καρὶ τὴν πεῖραν, ὡς ἡ παροιμία φησίν, οὐκ ἐν τῷ στρατηγῷ γίνεσθαι. Cf. Ael. Aristid. Panath. 241 (second century ad ): the Athenian forces rushing to relieve Konon at Mytilene conducted themselves ‘as if they were running risks with Carian and not their own bodies’ (ἐν δὲ τῷ Καρὶ καὶ οὐκ ἐν τοῖς αὑτῶν σώμασι τὰς πείρας ποιούμενοι).

37

‘The Carians of Barbarian Speech’

another aspect of this corpus, preserved in the saying ‘the lot of the Carian’ (ἐν Καρὸς μοίρᾳ): ‘For the Carians are a worthless people, always prisoners of war and slaves, and from this slaves were called Carians.’27 Again, the date of our source is late, but it appears to reflect a long-established trope that was ingrained in the Greek psyche. Aristophanes was apparently playing on such an association in his comedy Wealth when he named the character of the slave Kario.28 Such negative stereotypes of the Carians are based on their perceived inferiority as non-Hellenes. M. Bachvarova has drawn attention to an oracular response to Neileus, regarding his proposal to found a city in western Anatolia, in which he is advised to drive off ‘the race of unjust Carian men’ (ἀδίκων Καρῶν γένος ἀνδρῶν) and lead Ionians there.29 Another saying, preserved by Diogenianus (active in the second century ad ), reinforced the notion of Greek scorn: ‘the Lydians are bad, the Egyptians come second, the Carians are the third and most abominable of all’.30 The Greeks’ perceived cultural superiority over other peoples is a recurrent theme in our source material; a sense of a unified ‘us’ was constructed by emphasising their distinction from the barbarian ‘Other’.31 The Carians especially seem to have been the subject of scorn in Greek sources:  as noted by Apollodorus of Athens (second century bc ), the term ‘barbarians’ was used by the Hellenes ‘in a distinct and abusive sense against the Carians’. This was particularly the case among the Ionians, he writes, due to Carian ‘enmity and their continuous military campaigns’.32 The proximity of the Carian communities to the Ionian and Dorian settlements in coastal Anatolia, as well as their involvement in the networks of the Aegean, meant that some level of interaction was unavoidable. It was within this context of propinquity that 27

28

29 30

31

32

CPG Vol. I: Appendix Centuria 2, 60: Κᾶρες δε ἔθνος εὐτελὲς, αἰχμαλωτιζόμενον ἀεὶ καὶ δουλούμενον, ἐξ οὗ καὶ οἱ δοῦλοι Κᾶρες ἐλέγοντο. Aristoph. Plut., s.v. Καρίων. Ll. 6–7: τοῦ σώματος γὰρ οὐκ ἐᾷ τὸν κύριον κρατεῖν ὁ δαίμων, ἀλλὰ τὸν ἐωνημένον (‘It’s his fate that mastery of his own body is denied him, but belongs to his purchaser’) echoes the proverb ‘the lot of the Carian’. Parke and Wormell 1956: II. No. 301; Bachvarova 2015: 156–157. CPG Vol. I: Diogenianus Centuria 6. 24: Λυδοὶ πονηροὶ, δεύτεροι δ’ Αἰγύπτιοι, τρίτοι δὲ πάντων Κᾶρες ἐξωλέστατοι. Cf. Herda 2013: 473. Spawforth (2001: 383) considered the references to Anatolian ethnic groups in this saying as anachronistic, and ‘need be no more than a function of the well-known archaism in the literary naming of peoples and places typical of Greek writers of the second and third centuries ad ’. The bibliography on this topic is extensive; see for example: Hall 1989; Hall 1997; Malkin 2001a; Harrison 2002; Sourvinou-Inwood 2005: 24–63; Gruen 2011; Kim 2013; Vlassopoulos 2013a. Apollodorus of Athens FGrH 244, F207 (Strab. 14. 2. 28, 661C 28–31): Ἀπολλόδωρος ὁ γραμματικός, ὅτι τῷ κοινῷ ὀνόματι ἰδίως καὶ λοιδόρως ἐχρῶντο οἱ Ἕλληνες κατὰ τῶν Καρῶν, καὶ μάλιστα οἱ Ἱωνες, μισοῦντες αὐτοὺς διὰ τὴν ἔχθραν καὶ τὰς συνεχεῖς στρατείας.

37

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Articulating a ‘Carian’ Identity

the Greeks sought to cast the Carians as the ‘Other’ and thereby emphasise their difference and foreignness.33 The struggle against the ‘barbarian’ was immediate in western Anatolia, and discord between the Greek settlers and the Carian natives is a recurrent theme in the foundation tales of Asiatic Greek cities.34 A frequent narrative trope is the displacement of the local inhabitants: according to Vitruvius, the Ionian migrants, under the leadership of Ion, occupied the borders of Caria, driving out the Carians and Leleges (cum Caras et Lelegas eiecissent), and establishing the great cities of Ionia.35 For the ostensibly Dorian city of Halikarnassos, Vitruvius records a similar narrative of conflict between the settlers from Troizen and the native inhabitants: the barbarian Carians and Leleges were driven into the mountains, from where they made raids and plundered the land of the Greeks. However, they were enticed down when one of the Greek colonists set up a shop near the spring at Salmakis; it was as a result of this contact with the Greeks that the Carians ‘gave up their rough and savage ways for the delights of Greek customs’.36 Vitruvius relates this story as a way to dismiss the popular belief that the fountain infected those who drank from it with an ‘unnatural lewdness’ (venerio morbo). He explains that the water acquired its peculiar reputation, not because it induced unchastity, but because the barbarian Carians had been tamed by the ‘delights of civilisation’.37 The murder of ‘indigenous’ males by the Greek settlers, and their subsequent marriage to the local women, was another frequent motif in foundation traditions. According to Herodotus, the Ionian settlers ‘did not bring wives with them to their settlements, but married Carian women whose parents they had put to death’.38 In a related tale, Plutarch records that the city of Melia in Caria was founded by Greek settlers under the leadership 33

34 35

36

37

38

Kim (2013: 31ff.) suggests that the concept of the barbarian ‘Other’ originated among the Ionians in the sixth century bc in response to their subjugation by the Persians, which in turn may have stimulated the beginnings of ethnic categorisation among the Greeks. See Bresson 2001: 153–155. Vit. De Arch. 4. 1. 4–5. Vitruvius named thirteen original Ionian states: Ephesos, Miletos, Myus, Priene, Samos, Teos, Kolophon, Chios, Erythrai, Phokaia, Klazomenai, Lebedos and Melite; however, Melite was expelled from the league due to the arrogance of its citizens, and Smyrna was subsequently admitted as a mark of favour to King Attalos. Vit. De Arch 2. 8. 12: postea de colonis unus ad eum fontem propter bonitatem aquae quaestus causa tabernam omnibus copiis instruxit eamque exercendo eos barbaros allectabat. ita singillatim decurrentes et ad coetus convenientes e duro feroque more commutati in Graecorum consuetudinem et suavitatem sua voluntate reducebantur. Vit. De Arch. 2. 8. 12: ergo ea aqua non inpudico morbi vitio, sed humanitatis dulcedine mollitis animis barbarorum eam famam est adepta. Hdt. 1. 146. 2–3: οὗτοι δὲ οὐ γυναῖκας ἠγάγοντο ἐς τὴν ἀποικίην ἀλλὰ Καείρας ἔσχον, τῶν ἐφόνευσαν τοὺς γονέας. Cf. Bresson 2009: 115–116.

39

‘The Carians of Barbarian Speech’

of the young Nymphaios.39 They were initially welcomed by the Carians inhabiting the region, but relations soon soured after the settlers expanded their influence, and the Carians plotted to drive them out. The Ionians were warned of this plan by a young Carian woman, Kaphene, who had fallen in love with Nymphaios, and so the Greeks acted pre-emptively: they murdered their Carian hosts and sacked the city, before refounding it on the same site.40 We should not expect historical accuracy when reading such tales; however, that does not mean that they should be dismissed solely as later inventions. The early stages of ‘Greek’ settlement in western Anatolia were likely characterised by antagonism during certain periods as settlers sought to establish themselves; whether this hostility was dependent on ethnicity is less assured, and in certain accounts, tales of intra-Greek discord are recorded.41 But the social function of such foundation tales also needs to be taken into consideration; that is, what themes they were intended to convey. It served the interests of the Greek settlers to emphasise the gulf between them and their ‘barbarian’ neighbours,42 as a means of stressing their civilising effect and engendering a sense of pan-Ionian or panDorian identity.43 But it is worth emphasising that this ‘discourse of alterity’, as K. Vlassopoulos terms it, was only one form of communication; while it helped to foster a sense of unity among the Greek-speaking settlers by emphasising difference, it was one strategy among many.44 Other narratives engage in a more complex manner with the confrontation between peoples in Anatolia, stressing instead their cultural entanglement.45 The migrants to Anatolia were settling in areas that were already inhabited, and contact between the Greeks and the native population was inevitable.46 Herodotus records that there was a custom (nomos) among the

39

40 41

42 43 44 45 46

The location of Melia is not secure, although it can likely be equated to the Melite recorded by Vitruvius (see this chapter, n. 35). See Hommel in Kleiner, Hommel and Müller-Wiener 1967: 78–97. References to the chora of Melia and τὸμ πόλεμον τὸμ Με[λιακόν] in I. Priene1 37 (I. Priene2 132) ll. 55–56, suggest a location between Priene and Samos; the inscription records a dispute between the two states over the right to the territory around the fortified post of Karion; see below pp. 166–167. Plut. Mul. Virt. 7. Cf. Bresson 2009: 115. Crielaard 2009, esp. 55–57. For instance, the early history of Smyrna was marked by the discord between the Ionian settlers and the Aeolians: Strab. 14. 1. 4, with Mimnermus of Kolophon, Nanno Fr. 9 (Gerber). Bresson 2001: 157; Sourvinou-Inwood 2005: 306. Malkin 2001b: 5. Vlassopoulos 2013b: 52–53. Vlassopoulos 2013b: 56. Crielaard 2009: 57.

39

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women at Miletos, which they confirmed by oaths, that no woman could sit at table with her husband or call him by name; he continues that this was because the men had married them after killing their fathers, husbands and sons.47 Herodotus implies that this was a contemporary custom; though the extent to which it was possible to distinguish a distinctly Carian element in the Milesian population in the fifth century bc should be questioned. Herodotus may have been referring to a tradition that arose as a means of memorialising the early, supposedly violent, period of Greek settlement at Miletos; equally, this narrative could have been developed in order to explain this particular custom.48 But in either scenario, the Carian occupation of the city, and the violence of the Ionian arrival, was actively commemorated in Miletos as an important aspect of the city’s history. The incoming settlers did not live entirely in isolation from the surrounding non-Greek communities, and the exchange and integration that took place was incorporated into civic narratives;49 even tales of forced intermarriage presuppose the incorporation of Carian elements into the Greek settlements.50 Further evidence for interaction and probable intermarriage is offered by regional onomastics. Herodotus himself, a native of Halikarnassos, was the son of a man with a Carian name Lyxes, while the name of his cousin, Panyassis, was also of Carian origin.51 Halikarnassos is traditionally identified as a Dorian Greek settlement; the onomastic evidence, however, appears to reveal interaction between the Carian and Greek elements of the population. An inscription dated to the mid-fifth century bc records a property dispute in the city, and the decision to resolve the situation was taken by the ‘joint meeting of the Halikarnassians and Salmakitians and Lygdamis’.52 Salmakis is thought to have been the preexisting settlement in the area that predated the Greek foundation, and in the text it is revealed that they retained their own officials separately from the Halikarnassians. But as evidence for integration, it is notable that the onomastics from both communities exhibit mixed origins, with individuals

47

48 49

50 51 52

Hdt. 1. 146. 3: διὰ τοῦτὸν δὲ τὸν φόνον αἱ γυναῖκες αὗται νόμον θέμεναι σφίσι αὐτῇσι ὅρκους ἐπήλασαν καὶ παρέδοσαν τῇσι θυγατράσι, μή κοτε ὁμοσιτῆσαι τοῖσι ἀνδράσι μηδὲ οὐνόματι βῶσαι τὸν ἑωυτῆς ἄνδρα, τοῦδε εἵνεκα ὅτι ἐφόνευσαν σφέων τοὺς πατέρας καὶ ἄνδρας καὶ παῖδας καὶ ἔπειτα ταῦτα ποιήσαντες αὐτῇσι συνοίκεον. Vlassopoulos 2013b: 61. Carian graffiti have been discovered at Iasos (Berti and Innocente 1998) and at Miletos (Herda and Sauter 2009). See Malkin 2001b; Vlassopoulos 2013b. Suda, s.v. Ἡρόδοτος; Πανύασις. Herodotus’ mother, Dryo, seems to have been of Greek origin. Meiggs and Lewis 32, ll. 1–3: τάδε ὁ σύλλο[γ]ος ἐβολεύσατο |ὁ Ἁλικαρναϡ(σσ)έ[ω]ν καὶ Σαλμακι|τέων καὶ Λύγδαμις. See Virgilio 1987.

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‘The Carians of Barbarian Speech’

with Greek names and Carian patronyms, and with Carian names and Greek patronyms; thus from Halikarnassos, we find Leon son of Oassassis, while among the Salmakitians there is a Phormiōn son of Panyassis.53 Carian personal names are common in inscriptions during the fourth century bc , and continued into the Hellenistic period; however, as with the Carian language itself, the occurrences of Carian names had declined by the second century bc , and Greek names were preferred, at least among the elites.54 The question of whether this was at the expense of a sense of Carian identity is complex: it is not possible to distinguish between instances of integration and cases of conscious ‘Hellenising’, and names should not be considered a direct reflection of ethnic identity. I.J. Adiego has noted the dominance of indigenous names in Carian inscriptions, whereas the corresponding Greek texts reveal a mixture.55 This might suggest the existence of ‘double-naming,’ whereby individuals bore both Greek and Carian names in different languages.56 Onomastic evidence alone cannot be utilised to reconstruct the levels of integration, or the thought processes at work in naming practices, but it is notable that a distinctly Carian and a distinctly Greek community are not identifiable at Halikarnassos in the fifth century bc . The notion of a frontier between the Hellenes and non-Hellenes in western Anatolia was an artificial construct; a clearly demarcated boundary between the Ionian and Dorian cities of the coast and their Carian neighbours cannot be translated onto a map.57 The incorporation of sections of the pre-existing population groups in southwestern Anatolia into new foundations continued to inform the identity of the region. The cultural character of Melia, for instance, was not easily categorised in antiquity; Vitruvius described it as one of the ancient Ionian cities, while Hecataeus designated it as Carian.58 We can presume that its identity combined different cultural 53 54 55 56

57 58

See Aubriet 2013: 194–195. Piras 2010: 224–231. See Hornblower 1982: 346–351. Adiego 2013b: 16–17. One option was to translate names, which was particularly the case for theophoric names: a bilingual inscription from Lydia, dated to c.330 bc , records the name in Greek as Νάννας Διονυσικλέος, while in Lydian the same name is nannaś bakivalis (Sardis 6. 2. 20; 7. 1. 85). Further examples are found in Phoenician-Greek inscriptions; for instance, in a text from Rhodes, where an individual from Kition on Cyprus is identified as Herakleides in the Greek text, which corresponds to ‘bdmlqrt, ‘servant of Melqart’’, in Phoenician; Fraser 1970: no. 1, 31–32. On the assimilation between Herakles and Melqart, see Malkin 2005. Cf. Carless Unwin (forthcoming). See Crielaard 2009: 51–54. Vit. De Arch. 4. 1. 4; Steph. Byz. s.v. Μελία (=FGrH 1 F 11). Hommel in Kleiner, Hommel and Müller-Wiener 1967: 79–82.

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elements, with interaction and intermarriage between the Greek settlers and the native Carians blurring the division.59 The formation of identities in antiquity was a discursive process: communication and the interplay between peoples led to reflection on the part of groups and individuals as they sought to position themselves. The Carians were envisaged as the archetypal ‘barbarians’ by their Greek neighbours as a means of making sense of their environment; such stereotyping reflects their Hellenocentric perspective, but the resulting formulations were not definitive and were ultimately simplifications of the realities and complexities of interactions between peoples.60 As J. Skinner has observed, there is frequently a link between stereotypes and intergroup social relationships: stereotyping should be understood as a ‘cognitive function designed to help individuals deal effectively with social complexity’.61 While such representations are revealing about the contemporary attitudes of the Greeks to their non-Greek neighbours, they do not reflect the realities of interaction.

Language and Identity The Carians were confronted by peoples of different cultures and languages in southwestern Anatolia, with the consequence that bilingual tendencies developed in the region from an early period, particularly in those communities located near the coast. As noted, the Carian language disappears from the written record during the Hellenistic period; what did the dominance of Greek in Caria signify for the articulation of a ‘Carian’ identity? Returning to the designation of the Carians as barbarophōnoi in Homer, its meaning has been much debated – whether it referred to their foreign tongue, or was used to denote their ‘incomprehensible’ or ‘bad Greek’. Certainly, it is not clear in Homer that the term contained the pejorative ethnic connotations that it came to acquire later. It is the first attestation of the word barbaros, or a derivative of it, in the Greek language, leading some scholars to speculate that it was a later interpolation.62 The fact that Thucydides explicitly stated that Homer did not use the term ‘barbarian’ is one argument in favour of this idea;63 this was also commented on in antiquity.

59 60 61 62 63

Hommel in Kleiner, Hommel and Müller-Wiener 1967: 81. Skinner 2012: 115. Skinner 2012: 116. Kim 2013: 28–29. See also Rochette 1997–98. Thuc. 1. 3. 3.

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In Strabo, we find an extended discussion of the term barbarophōnein.64 He reflected that, in origin, ‘barbarian’ was perhaps ‘at first uttered onomatopoetically in reference to people who enunciated words only with difficulty and talked harshly and raucously’.65 As he continues: ‘accordingly, when all who pronounced words thickly were being called barbarians onomatopoetically, it appeared that the pronunciations of all alien races were likewise thick, I mean of those that were not Greek’.66 At first the Greeks used the term ‘barbarians’ derisively, in reference to those that ‘pronounced words thickly or harshly’; they then used the word ‘as a general ethnic term, thus making a logical distinction between the Greeks and all other races’.67 He continues that, through ‘long acquaintance and intercourse with the barbarians’, the Greeks came to realise that this effect was the result of ‘the peculiarities of languages’.68 Strabo likens the ‘faulty (kakostomia) and barbarian-like pronunciation (barbarostomia)’ among those only beginning to learn Greek to the Greek experience of speaking foreign languages: they were unable to speak it accurately, ‘as is the case with us in speaking their languages’.69 According to Strabo, the Carians were described as barbarophōnoi by Homer because they were among the first foreign people to have intercourse with the Greeks. Their travels in the Aegean as mercenaries and pirates meant that they came into contact with Greek speakers early; as he writes, ‘already the barbarous element in their Greek was strong as a result of their expeditions in Greece’.70 This increased from the time when they lived with the Greeks in the islands, and the subsequent foundation of the Ionian and Dorian settlements in Anatolia only intensified contact: ‘even here they (the Carians) were not able to live apart from the 64 65

66

67

68

69

70

Strab. 14. 2. 28, 661C 17–22. See Almagor 2005: 44ff. Strab. 14. 2. 28, 662C 6–8: οἶμαι δὲ, τὸ βάρβαρον κατ’ ἀρχὰς ἐκπεφωνῆσθαι οὕτως κατ’ ὀνοματοποιίαν ἐπὶ τῶν δυσεκφόρως καὶ σκληρῶς καὶ τραχέως λαλούντων. Strab. 14. 2. 28, 662C 12–14: πάντων δὴ τῶν παχυστομούντων οὕτως βαρβάρων λεγομένων, ἐφάνη τὰ τῶν ἀλλοεθνῶν στόματα τοιαῦτα, λέγω δὲ τὰ τῶν μὴ Ἑλλήνων. Strab. 14. 2. 28, 662C 14–16: ἐκείνους οὖν ἰδίως ἐκάλεσαν βαρβάρους, ἐν ἀρχαῖς μὲν κατὰ τὸ λοίδορον, ὡς ἂν παχυστόμους ἢ τραχυστόμους, εἶτα κατεχρησάμεθα ὡς ἐθνικῷ κοινῷ ὀνόματι ἀντιδιαιροῦντες πρὸς τοὺς Ἕλληνας. Strab. 14. 2. 28, 662C 16–19: καὶ γὰρ δὴ τῇ πολλῇ συνηθείᾳ καὶ ἐπιπλοκῇ τῶν βαρβάρων οὐκέτι ἐφαίνετο κατὰ παχυστομίαν καὶ ἀφυΐαν τινὰ τῶν φωνητηρίων ὀργάνων τοῦτο συμβαῖνον, ἀλλὰ κατὰ τὰς τῶν διαλέκτων ἰδιότητας. Strab. 14. 2. 28, 662C 19–23: ἄλλη δέ τις ἐν τῇ ἡμετέρᾳ διαλέκτῳ ἀνεφάνη κακοστομία καὶ οἷον βαρβαροστομία, εἴ τις ἑλληνίζων μὴ κατορθοίη, ἀλλ᾽ οὕτω λέγοι τὰ ὀνόματα, ὡς οἱ βάρβαροι οἱ εἰσαγόμενοι εἰς τὸν ἑλληνισμὸν, οὐκ ἰσχύοντες ἀρτιστομεῖν, ὡς οὐδ᾽ ἡμεῖς ἐν ταῖς ἐκείνων διαλέκτοις. Strab. 14. 2. 28, 662C 27–28: ἤδη οὖν τὸ βαρβαρόφωνον ἐπ’ ἐκείνων πυκνὸν ἦν ἀπὸ τῆς εἰς τὴν Ἑλλάδα αὐτῶν στρατείας.

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Greeks’.71 The term barbarizein had thus been used originally to refer ‘to those who speak Greek badly, not to those talking Carian’.72 He continues, ‘it was from the term “Karize” (karizein) that the term “barbarise” (barbarizein) was used in a different sense in works on the art of “Hellenism” ’.73 The appearance of the word karizein is curious, and its meaning is not immediately evident.74 Verbs ending in -izein were frequently used in relation to speaking a language; thus hellēnizein meant ‘to speak Greek’.75 In this context, however, it is not clear whether karizein meant simply ‘to speak Carian’; its discussion in relation to barbarizein has prompted translators, including S. Radt, to conclude that they had a similar meaning. The definition of karizein in Liddell-Scott is thus related to the manner in which the Carians spoke Greek, and is translated as ‘to speak Greek like a Carian’, or in other words ‘to speak barbarously’.76 Strabo was writing in the Augustan period, and thus his study of the term βαρβαροφωνεῖν is representative of his historical and cultural milieu; it does not reveal anything about the origins of the term barbaros.77 However, his discussion does reveal much about common perceptions of early Carian interaction in the Aegean; while this may not accurately reflect the usage of the term barbarophōnoi in Homer, it does reflect the established notion of Carian contact with, and assimilation of, the Greek language. In Strabo’s scheme, the Carians do not fall naturally into the Greek/barbarian dichotomy, but rather occupy what E. Almagor calls ‘an ethnological middle ground’.78 Certainly, the early cooperation between Carians and Ionians, 71

72

73

74 75 76

77

78

Strab. 14. 2. 28, 662C 29–663C 1: καὶ μετὰ ταῦτα ἐπεπόλασε πολὺ μᾶλλον, ἀφ᾿ οὗ τάς τε νήσους μετὰ τῶν Ἑλλήνων ᾤκησαν, κἀκεῖθεν εἰς τὴν Ἀσίαν ἐκπεσόντες, οὐδ ἐνταῦθα χωρὶς Ἑλλήνων οἰκεῖν ἠδύναντο, ἐπιδιαβάντων τῶν Ἰώνων καὶ τῶν Δωριέων. Strab. 14. 2. 28, 663C 1–3: ἀπὸ δὲ τῆς αὐτῆς αἰτίας καὶ τὸ βαρβαρίζειν λέγεται· και γὰρ τοῦτο ἐπὶ τῶν κακῶς ἑλληνιζόντων εἰώθαμεν λέγειν, οὐκ ἐπὶ τῶν καριστὶ λαλούντων. See Almagor (2005) 46. Strab. 14. 2. 28, 663C 5–6: ἀπὸ δὲ τοῦ καρίζειν καὶ τὸ βαρβαρίζειν μετήνεγκαν εἰς τὰς περὶ ἑλληνισμοῦ τέχνας. Radt 2009: 98–99. Liddell-Scott s.v. Ἑλληνίζω. Liddell-Scott s.v. Καρίζω. Cf. Janse 2002: 351; Herda 2013: 429. Strabo is the earliest source (14. 2. 28, 663C 5). See also CPG Vol. I: Diogenianus Centuria 7. 65: Πρὸς Κᾶρα καρίζεις: ὡς καὶ τὸ, πρὸς Κρῆτα κρητίζεις. Καὶ, Μεγαρικὰ δάκρυα. Cf. Suda s.v. Κρητίζειν: τὸ ψεύδεσθαι… καὶ ἑτέρα παροιμία ‘Κρητίζειν πρὸς Κρῆτας’, ἐπειδὴ ψεῦσται καὶ ἀπατεῶνές εἰσι; mirrored in Callimachus, Hymn to Zeus, l. 7; see also St Paul’s Epistle to Titus 1: 12: Κρῆτες, ἀεὶ ψευδεῖς. On ‘Megarians’ tears’, cf. Suda s.v. Μεγαρέων δάκρυα. Kim 2013: 34 proposes that the term may find its origins in Old Persian, related to the word bara, ‘to carry’, and etymologically linked to Old Indian Sanskrit bhara, ‘tax’; he suggests that barbaros may thus have originally been used to signify those who were subject to the Persians and their taxes. Cf. Hall 1989: 4, n. 5: she notes that there are similar words in several oriental languages, including the Sumerian barbaru, ‘foreigner’. Almagor 2005: 46.

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and their employment as mercenaries by the Egyptian pharaohs, is confirmed by the epigraphic material. Herodotus records that the Carians were settled separately from the Greeks by Psammetichos I, yet this did not preclude contact and collusion.79 He credits these mercenaries with being ‘the first of foreign speech to live in Egypt’, and states that it was as a result of interaction with these settlers that the Greeks began to acquire knowledge about Egypt.80 Linguistic adaptability would have been important for Carians travelling in the Mediterranean. The widespread value of Greek within these networks was in contrast to Carian, the utility of which would have been more localised; bilingualism was thus important for those Carians that came into regular contact with the Greek-speaking world. Ephorus (fourth century bc ), in his account of the expedition of Kimon to western Asia Minor in the early fifth century, distinguishes between the coastal foundations that had been settled by Greeks, and those bilingual (diglōssoi) communities that still possessed Persian garrisons.81 Such assimilation was a direct result of the interaction between Greeks and Carians in southwestern Anatolia, though we should expect variation between urban and rural communities; also between inland communities and those located near or on the coast. Further anecdotal evidence for bilingualism is proffered by Herodotus in the tale of the Carian Mys from Europos (Euromos), who had been sent by Mardonios ‘to visit the places of divination’ and ‘inquire of all the oracles which he could test’.82 A proficiency in Greek would be expected for such a task. On his travels, Mys visited the oracle of the Ptoan Apollo near Thebes, and ‘straightaway the diviner prophesied in a foreign tongue’.83 It was unidentifiable to the Thebans who had accompanied him, but Mys immediately identified it as Carian.84 In Thucydides, we also find one of Tissaphernes’ confidants identified as a certain Gaulites, a ‘bilingual Carian’ (Kara diglōsson);85 though as these individuals were in the employ of the Persian administration, they should perhaps better be identified as trilingual.86

79

80 81 82 83 84 85 86

A Carian presence at Naukratis, ostensibly a ‘Greek’ settlement, has been detected with the discovery of ‘Carian’ pottery fragments; Williams and Villing 2006: 47–48. This could be a product of trade, but the inclusion of non-Hellenes in an otherwise Greek settlement is a possibility, and indeed should not be unexpected. See Johnston 2014: 121ff. for the possible presence of Lydians at Naukratis. Hdt. 2. 154. 4: πρῶτοι γὰρ οὗτοι ἐν Αἰγύπτῳ ἀλλόγλωσσοι κατοικίσθησαν. Ephorus FGrH 70 F 191, frag. 8; Diod. Sic. 11. 60. 4. Hdt. 8. 133. Hdt. 8. 135. 2: καὶ πρόκατε τὸν πρόμαντιν βαρβάρῳ γλώσσῃ χρᾶν. Hdt. 8. 135. 3. Thuc. 8. 85. 2. Aubriet 2013: 190; Herda 2013: 471.

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Language is a tangible measure by which modern observers can recognise the endurance of regional or ethnic identities, and certainly a sense of commonality in Caria would have been encouraged by their shared language. As noted in the Introduction, the Carian language marks the association of the Carian people with other ‘Luwic’ peoples in Anatolia, and was closely related to Luwian, Lycian and Milyan.87 However, the linguistic boundaries of southwestern Anatolia were far from clear-cut, and we should be wary of taking a language-centred perspective when attempting to reconstruct what it meant to be ‘Carian’ in the ancient world. As observed, Greek was the primary language employed in official documentation by the fourth century bc , notably used by the Hekatomnid dynasts in their dedications at the sanctuary of Labraunda (Figure 4),88 while the Carian language disappears from the written record at some point in the third century bc .89 The incorporation of southwestern Anatolia in the Achaemenid Empire would have introduced Persian speakers into the region, while the presence of Lydian texts at the east Carian city of Aphrodisias in the fourth century bc further complicates the linguistic dynamics of the region.90 Communities in antiquity communicated, and traded, most frequently with those that were nearest or most accessible; language differences did not prevent communication between speech communities.91 In Caria, linguistic acculturation between different cultural elements occurred over a long period of time, affected by the wider social and political dynamics that characterised the history of the region. The gradual dominance of Greek at the expense of Carian, at least in the official realm, was not necessarily to the detriment of a sense of Carian identity ; rather, it reflected the relative standings of the two languages, and the greater expediency of communicating in Greek rather than Carian in the networks of the Aegean and wider Mediterranean. Such an outward demonstration of ‘Hellenisation’ did not automatically diminish the Carian character of the region; the adoption of 87 88

89 90 91

See p. 1. Maussollos dedicated the stoa (I. Labraunda 13) and Andron B (I. Labraunda 14); Idrieus dedicated Andron A (I. Labraunda 15), the naos of the temple (I. Labraunda 16), the oikoi (I. Labraunda 17), the pylon of the South Propylaia (I. Labraunda 18) and the hieros oikos (I. Labraunda 19). The Hekatomnids are often credited with the ‘Hellenisation’ of Caria during the fourth century; however, especially linguistically, the process had already begun in the previous centuries through interaction and assimilation. Cf. Hornblower 1982: 332–351; 1990; Pedersen 1994. Piras 2010: 219–220. Carruba 1970; Chaniotis and Rojas (forthcoming). See the discussion of linguistic diversity in Hall 1997: 162–170; he discusses Wellentheorie, and the idea that linguistic innovation spread like waves; in such a model, geographic and demographic factors are key in determining intelligibility between dialects and languages.

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Figure 4 Dedication of Andron B by Maussollos at Labraunda, fourth century bc

Greek names for their deities, for instance, does not seem to have altered the fundamentally local character of the cults.92 It is not known how long the Carian divine names persisted concurrently with the Greek, but it can be supposed that the transition was gradual. 92

There was a proliferation of local cults of Zeus in southwestern Anatolia, which might reflect a characteristic of the Carian deities concerned. It has been suggested that the cults of Zeus in Caria were local manifestations of the Luwian storm god Tarhunt, called Trquδe- in Carian; see Adiego 2007: 286; 2010.

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Herodotus appears to acknowledge that language was not the only basis on which a sense of Carian identity was determined in his discussion of the temple of Zeus Karios, ‘the use of which is shared by Mysians and Lydians’, brethren of the Carians.93 Access to the temple was limited to these people, ‘but others, even those which speak the same tongue (homoglōssoi) as the Carians, are excluded from it’.94 It is not clear on what basis admittance to the temple was decided, but language was not the deciding factor.95 This passage also raises the possibility that linguistic assimilation was not unilateral, and that sections of the Greek population spoke Carian.96 Turning again to Herodotus, he designates four different dialects (glossa) among the twelve Ionian cities of western Anatolia; Miletos, Myus and Priene, all settlements in Caria, spoke the same dialect.97 It can be speculated that this was shaped by their contact with Carian speakers over a long period of time.98 Interference or borrowings frequently occur between languages; according to Philip of Theangela, thought to have been writing in the third century bc , there were many Greek words mixed up in the Carian language.99 There is no evidence as yet in the Carian texts to indicate that this was the case, though it is possible that interference occurred primarily in spoken discourse.100 The relationship between the written record and oral communication is far from straightforward, and the decision-making processes involved in the composition of texts do not necessarily correspond to spoken language. Written language, particularly in ‘official’ documentation, is frequently more formal than that employed in everyday spoken 93

94

95 96

97

98 99 100

Hdt. 1. 171. 6. ἀποδεικνῦσι δὲ ἐν Μυλάσοισι Διὸς Καρίου ἱρὸν ἀρχαῖον, τοῦ Μυσοῖσι μὲν καὶ Λυδοῖσι μέτεστι ὡς κασιγνήτοισι ἐοῦσι τοῖσι Καρσί· τὸν γὰρ Λυδὸν καὶ τὸν Μυσὸν λέγουσι εἶναι Καρὸς ἀδελφεούς. Hdt. 1. 171. 6: τούτοισι μὲν δὴ μέτεστι, ὅσοι δὲ ἐόντες ἄλλου ἔθνεος ὁμόγλωσσοι τοῖσι Καρσὶ ἐγένοντο, τούτοισι δὲ οὐ μέτα. Salmeri 1994: 92. Cf. Hall 2002: 116–117: ‘intelligibility is governed not by the structural linguistic correspondences … between dialects and languages but by the intensity of contact between speakers of different idioms’. Hdt. 1. 142. 3–4: αὗται μὲν ἐν τῇ Καρίῃ κατοίκηνται κατὰ ταὐτὰ διαλεγόμεναι σφίσι. Other dialects were identified for the cities situated in Lydia (Ephesos, Kolophon, Lebedos, Teos, Klazomenai and Phokaia), for the Chians and Erythraians, and for the Samians, who had a distinct language of their own. Cf. Plato, Cra. 409 D–E: ‘I know that many Greeks, especially those living among the barbarians, have adopted many words from the barbarians’ (ἐννοῶ γὰρ ὅτι πολλὰ οἱ Ἕλληνες ὀνόματα ἄλλως τε καὶ οἱ ὑπὸ τοῖς βαρβάροις οἰκοῦντες παρὰ τῶν βαρβάρων εἰλήφασιν). See Janse 2002: 334: ‘Borrowing presupposes at least a minimum degree of bilingualism’. Cf. Salmeri 1994: 91. Philip of Theangela FGrH 741 F1 (Strab. 14. 2. 28, 662C 4–6). Adiego 2013b: 16.

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discourse; for example, it is affected by standardisation or the use of formulaic language.101 The formality of public inscriptions does not offer an accurate reflection of the spoken language.102 It should be noted, for instance, that the different Ionian dialects identified by Herodotus are not reflected in the epigraphic record of the Ionian communities concerned.103 The disappearance of the Carian language in public written communication coincided with the broader acceptance of the Greek koine as the dominant written language across the Mediterranean world during the Hellenistic period. This is commonly linked with the need for a standard written language within the Hellenistic kingdoms, at least at an administrative and educational level;104 but it can be presumed that local dialects and languages were retained in day-to-day interaction.105 From our source material we can only detect when the Carian language disappeared in the written realm, and not when it stopped being spoken; it is likely that it continued in use for some time after it disappears from our source material, perhaps for a number of generations.106 The linguistic shift towards Greek in southwestern Anatolia ultimately led to the decline of the Carian language; however, the decrease in use of the local language was not fatal to the existence of a sense of Carian identity. The dominance of Greek followed centuries of interaction, and the conversion was gradual: as already observed, the beginnings of bilingualism in the region can be traced to the travels of the Carians as mercenaries in the Mediterranean and interaction with the Greek settlements in Anatolia during the Archaic period. By the early stages of the Hellenistic period, southwestern Anatolia had already assimilated many outward signs of ‘Hellenisation’; the widespread utilisation of the Greek language was one manifestation, as was the adoption of the civic model of the polis and the standard administrative and political bodies associated with it.107 101 102

103 104 105

106 107

Adams and Swain 2002: 6–7. Colvin (2011: 39) regards the koine as a ‘theoretical entity’, to which ‘no spoken or written variety corresponds exactly’. He draws a parallel with the relationship between Modern Standard Arabic and the numerous regional, and in many instances mutually unintelligible, vernaculars; this diversity does not undermine the sense of being Arabic speakers, but nor is it reflected in official written discourse. Colvin 2009: 39. Colvin 2009: 42; 2011: 37–38. Colvin 2004: 69 suggests that the Lycian language may have survived into the Roman period; cf. 2011: 40–41. See also Bresson 2007b: 220–222; Herda 2013: 440–441; Janse 2002. Bresson 2007b: 220ff.; Colvin 2004: 69. See Marek 2013. According to Aristophanes, the Carians traditionally inhabited fortified hilltop settlements: Birds 292–293: ‘They are like the Carians: they nest on crests for safety’s sake’

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A number of Carian regional toponyms, cults and personal names endured this shift;108 the suffix -nda, for instance, was common to a number of Anatolian languages, and is preserved in Caria in the communities of Labraunda, Kalynda, Alinda and Alabanda.109 The -ss- suffix was also common in Anatolian names, and is reflected in both Carian personal and place names; for example, Halikarnassos, Telmessos and Mylas(s)a.110 The place names Pēdasa (Πηδασα), Pidasa (Πιδασα) and Pedanassos (Πεδανασσος)111 seem to be related to the Hittite peda- and the Lycian pddē meaning ‘place’,112 while puna- and pana-, another frequent element in Anatolian names, are found in Caria.113 Carian personal names also contain the Anatolian suffix -oλ, which appears in Greek as -ωλλ-/ -ωλδ-;114 the name of the Hekatomnid dynast Maussollos is a prominent example, though other instances are preserved in the names Hyssōllos (Ὑσσωλλος),115 Arlissis (Αρλισσις), Thyssōllos (Θυσσωλλος) and the father of Hekatomnos, Hyssaldomos (Ὑσσαλδομος).116 Whether or not Carian continued to be spoken into the Hellenistic period or later, a continued awareness of aspects of the Carian language appears to have been preserved; Pausanias, for instance, writes that the Zeus of Mylasa was ‘called in the native voice Osogōa’.117 The circulation of such traditions about Carian reveals the continued recognition of this aspect of regional history, even if the language was no longer spoken. Language is an important means of establishing a sense of commonality, however, it is rarely the basis on which a sense of group identity is

108

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110 111 112 113 114 115

116

117

(ὥσπερ οἱ Κᾶρες μὲν οὖν ἐπὶ λόφων οἰκοῦσιν, ὦγάθ᾿, ἀσφαλείας οὕνεκα). Cf. Xen. Cyrop. 7. 4. 1. Extensive lists of both Carian personal and place names are provided in Blümel 1992b; 1998; Adiego 2007: appendix C. Adiego 2007: 341–342. Cf. Blümel 1998. Stephanus of Byzantium (s.v. Ἀλάβανδα) wrote that the name Alabanda was a compound of two Carian words: ala meaning ‘horse’, and banda meaning ‘victory’. Adiego (2007: 11) has questioned the word division envisaged in this late etymological explanation, due to the frequency of -anda as a locational suffix. Adiego 2007: 341–342. Blümel 1998: 178–179. Adiego 2007: 336–337; Pidossos was also the name of an island near Halikarnassos. For instance, Panamara; Adiego 2007: 337–338. Adiego 2007: 343–344. There was a variant spelling with -λδ rather than -λλ; Clerc 1882: 191–193, ll. 11, 17, 19: Ὕσσωλδος. See LGPN VB, s.v. Υσσωλλος; Υσσωλδος. Blümel 1992b; Piras 2010: 222–224. See LGPN VB, s.v. Υσσαλδομος; Υσσαλλομος; Υσσελδομος. Cf. Konuk 2009, regarding the possibility that Hyssaldomos was the first satrap of Caria, before Hekatomnos inherited the role; numismatic evidence supports the possible rule of Hyssaldomos, although it is not certain this was as satrap. Paus. 8. 10. 4: ὃν φωνῇ τῇ ἐπιχωρία καλοῦσιν Ὀσογῶα. See below, p. 140, on the rendering of this deity as Zenoposeidon in Greek.

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founded or determined. In Caria, criteria such as language and onomastics offer important insights for the modern observer into the preservation of the ‘indigenous’ Anatolian culture, but they do not necessarily reflect cultural self-identification among the inhabitants of southwestern Anatolia. The social dynamics affecting language choice in Caria were influenced by the wider incorporation of Carian communities into the regional networks of the Aegean. By the Hellenistic period, the different cultural elements in southwestern Anatolia were interwoven and interdependent; but within this koine, localism and the individualism of communities continued to be affirmed and perpetuated through local traditions. Even if the criteria on which a sense of local identity was founded shifted over time, the incorporation and perpetuation of Carian narratives in the regional histories and mythologies indicate that the non-Greek heritage of the region remained relevant to the communities concerned.

Delimiting ‘Caria’ and the ‘Carians’ Communal identity was constructed in a process of self-determination, articulated through traditions of a shared history or genealogy, and reinforced through ritual. Attempts to reconstruct what it meant to be ‘Carian’ should not seek to isolate the ‘Carians’ as a discrete ethnic group distinct from their Hellenic neighbours, and instead focus on the attempts made by communities to communicate the Carian aspects of their history. This need not have been in opposition to any parallel ‘Greek’ narratives, but rather contributed to the depth and complexity of regional history. Attempts to assert a sense of a Carian commonality can be detected. As noted above, in the religious realm, the cult of Zeus Karios at Mylasa was described by Herodotus as being shared by all Carians. Whether this sense of a regional religious identity translated into a social or political organisation is less clear; though M. Bachvarova suggests it was also an attempt by Carians, Lydians and Mysians to ‘assert membership in a supralocal identity’, and justify territorial possessions in southwestern Anatolia.118 Herodotus described the Carians collectively as putting up a defence against the Persians during the Ionian revolt, and S. Hornblower has suggested that this might be the first attestation of an organised ‘Carian 118

Bachvarova 2015: 155. A parallel can be sought in the restrictions placed on access to the Panionion among the twelve member cities; as Herodotus (1. 143. 3) writes, these cities gloried in the name ‘Ionian’ and founded a holy place for themselves which no other Ionians were allowed to use.

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League’;119 though this reference could equally denote a coalition forged to meet a common threat, rather than a clearly demarcated body. Another Hekatomnid inscription recorded a plot against Maussollos in 367/366 bc , and recounted that the would-be assassin, Arlissis son of Thyssollos, had been sent by the Carians to the king (ὑπὸ Καρῶν πρὸς βασιλέα), which might again indicate that some form of league existed among the Carians.120 Fragmentary references to a ‘king of the Carians’ are more tantalising, but again far from conclusive. An inscription from Mylasa, dated to the fourth century bc , mentions Καρῶν βασιλ[έως] in the same context as satrap (ξατράπης), though it is not certain whether basileus should be read in conjunction with Karōn.121 The notion that the Hekatomnid dynasts did in fact adopt the title of king appears to be confirmed by a recently discovered inscription from Iasos, recording an epigram in honour of Idrieus, in which the dynastic family are referred to as basileis.122 Again, in the Hellenistic period, a priest and king of the Carian koinon is found in an inscription from Olymos.123 In this case the role of basileus was clearly associated with a ‘Carian koinon’, or ‘league’, while the existence of a priest indicates a religious element; whether this was a continuation of an institution that traced its origins to the Hekatomnids is unclear. If the Hekatomnids did adopt the title ‘king of Caria’, it is further not known how this interacted with the functions of satrap: was it merely another title of their rule, or did it involve additional functions, for instance in the religious sphere? The Hekatomnid domain extended beyond the geographical confines of Caria into Lycia, Ionia and the neighbouring islands; did they assume the title of basileus in their entire realm, or was it geographically limited? The existence of a ‘Carian koinon’ demonstrates the continued relevance of ‘Carian’ as one level of identification in the region into the Hellenistic period, even if our only attestations are in the Greek language; how clearly this organisation was delimited, its functions, and whether all communities in Caria were active, remains uncertain. Hints about the extent of its

119

120 121 122

123

Hornblower 1982: 55; he also points (61) to a reference in Diodorus (17. 24. 2–3), in which the ‘Carians’ are said to have welcomed Alexander, as another possible action of the ‘Carian koinon’. Cf. Debord 1999: 178–179; 2003: 118. I. Mylasa 1, l. 5. Cf. Hornblower 1982: 60. I. Mylasa 10; Hornblower 1982: M15. Cf. Hornblower 1982: 55, n. 28; 59–60. Nafissi 2013: l. 1; 307–308. This view was already favoured by Hornblower (1982: 59–62), who suggested that it may have reflected a local hereditary title. Hornblower points to a certain Herakleides, son of Ibanollis, of Mylasa, known from Herodotus (5. 121), who in the Suda is called τὸν Μυλασσῶν βασιλέα; he speculates that the Hekatomnid dynasty may have usurped this kingship, based at Mylasa, before being appointed as satraps. I. Mylasa 828, l. 12: ἱερεύς [καὶ] βασιλεύς τοῦ κοινοῦ τῶν Καρ[ῶν].

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membership may be offered by two decrees dated to the fourth century bc , discovered at Sekköy; one was concluded between Kindye and Mylasa, concerning the sale of land,124 while the other was between Mylasa and an unknown community.125 Both list delegations sent from communities in Caria (identified as poleis in the treaty between Kindye and Mylasa) to act as witnesses, and it has been speculated that they could reflect actions of the koinon and its members.126 If this is the case, it is notable that the ‘Dorian’ communities of Halikarnassos and Iasos were included among their number. Another union of Carian communities called the Chrysaoric League emerged in the third century bc , attested in both the epigraphic and literary record. According to Strabo it was a commonality that consisted of villages (συνεστηκὸς ἐκ κωμῶν), with its activities centred on a temple of Zeus Chrysaoreus in Stratonikeia; he describes the sanctuary as ‘the common possession of all Carians’, where they gather to offer sacrifice and ‘to deliberate on their common interests’.127 The division of the league into villages appears to reflect traditional Carian society; however, Strabo qualified his description with the statement that the members ‘who provide the most villages have a preference in the vote’.128 The implication is that votes were allotted to poleis, and weighted according to the number of smaller communities incorporated in their territory. This is reinforced in an inscription from Labraunda in which ‘the Chrysaoreis from the cities’ are said to have come together (although this could suggest that there were also ‘Chrysaoreis from the villages’).129 The character of the Chrysaoric League was distinctly Carian. It was named after the mythological figure of Chrysaor, who, along with his brother Pegasos, had strong connections with the region.130 Pausanias 124 125 126

127

128 129

130

I. Mylasa 11; Blümel 1990: 30–32; HTC 90. I. Mylasa 12; Blümel 1990: 32–34; HTC 91. Debord 1999: 179–181; 2003: 119–125. I. Mylasa 11 lists Kasolaba, Kyblissa, Kildara, Iasos, Syangela, Halikarnassos, Kaunos, Pladasa and another city for which only:]οι remains in line 17; Blümel (1990: 31) thought it could be Knidi]oi; Debord (1999: 180; HTC: 217; 2003: 122) prefers a restoration of Myndi]oi, after a suggestion of R. Descat. I. Mylasa 12 lists Arlissos, Hydai, Koarenza, Hiera Kome, Alabanda, Keramos, Armelitai, Ouranion, Koliorgos, Koloneis, and again Kaunos and Pladasa. Strab. 14. 2. 25: ἐγγὺς δὲ τῆς πόλεως τὸ τοῦ Χρυσαορέως Διὸς κοινὸν ἁπάντων Καρῶν, εἰς ὃ συνίασι θύσοντές τε καὶ βουλευσόμενοι περὶ τῶν κοινῶν. See Hornblower 1982: 62–65; Debord 2003: 125ff.; Gabrielsen 2011a. Strab. 14. 2. 25: οἱ δὲ πλείστας παρεχόμενοι κώμας προέχουσι τῇ ψήφῳ. I. Labraunda 43, ll. 2–3: συν̣ελθό̣ν̣των Χρυ̣σα̣[ορέ]|[ω]ν̣ τ̣ῶ̣[ν ἀπὸ] τ̣ῶν̣ π̣[ό]λ̣ε̣ων. Cf. Debord 2003: 132–133; van Bremen 2004: 381–382. On Pegasos and Chrysaor, see Hes. Theog. 281ff. Hadzis 1997 argued that the Chrysaoreis were named after the Chrysaor, son of Glaukos, mentioned in SEG 38. 1476 (see below, pp. 161–162; cf. Steph. Byz. this chapter, n. 132); rather than Chrysaor, son of Poseidon and Medusa, and brother of Pegasos. This is followed by Debord 2003: 126–127. However,

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recorded that in ancient times both the city of Stratonikeia and the surrounding area were called Chrysaoris.131 Stephanus of Byzantium further strengthens the association, writing that Mylasa was named after the son of Chrysaor, while the city Idrias was said to have been previously called Chrysaoris.132 The traditions associated with Pegasos and Bellerophon also spun a complicated web across the region, and extended to Lycia. Within Caria, Pegasos and Bellerophon feature as founding figures in, and on the coinage of, Halikarnassos (Figure 5) and Aphrodisias,133 while according to Stephanus of Byzantium, Bargylia had been founded by Bellerophon in honour of his friend Bargylos, who had been killed by a strike from Pegasos.134 The winged horse Pegasos featured on the coinage of Bargylia, as well as in Alabanda, Alinda, Stratonikeia and Hydisos, suggesting that the myth had been incorporated into their civic histories.135 Membership of the Chrysaoric League did not include all Carian communities, and the lack of overlap with the Sekköy inscriptions is striking; Mylasa, Amyzon, Alabanda/Antiocheia, Alinda, Thera and Keramos are among the members attested so far.136 Stratonikeia was also a member, and indeed the meetings of the Chrysaoreis were held in the city, despite the fact

131 132

133

134 135

136

the frequency of Pegasos on a number of Carian civic coin types, including at Stratonikeia, would suggest that there may have been a conflation of both traditions; see below for a similar conflation in the traditions surrounding Sarpedon in Lycia. Cf. Debord 2010. Paus. 5. 21. 10: τὰ δὲ παλαιότερα ἥ τε χώρα καὶ ἡ πόλις ἐκαλεῖτο Χρυσαορίς. Steph. Byz. s.v. Μύλασα, πόλις Καρίας, ἀπὸ Μυλάσου τοῦ Χρυσάορος τοῦ Γλαύκου τοῦ Σισύφου τοῦ Αἰόλου; Ἰδρίας, πόλις τῆς Καρίας, ἡ πρότερον Χρυσαορίς. See Fabiani 2015b: 174–181, on a cult of Zeus Idrieus. The Salmakis inscription of Halikarnassos mentions Pegasos and Bellerophon, while the winged horse features on civic coinage during the fifth century bc ; SNG Copenhagen Caria: nos. 336–337; SNG Turkey 1: nos. 755–758 (fifth century bc ). Pegasos and Bellerophon feature on the basilica reliefs from Aphrodisias, dated to the Imperial period (IAph2007 6.1, a. i–ii); see below, pp. 56–57. Steph. Byz. s.v. Βαργύλια. Alabanda/Antiocheia (second century bc ): BMC Greek (Caria, Cos, Rhodes): 1–2, nos. 1–7, 10; SNG Copenhagen Caria nos. 1–3; SNG Keckman nos. 1, 5. Alinda (second century bc ): BMC Greek (Caria, Cos, Rhodes): 11, no. 11. Bargylia (first century bc ): BMC Greek (Caria, Cos, Rhodes): 71, nos. 1–3; SNG Copenhagen Caria nos. 175–176, 178; SNG Keckman nos. 25– 26. Stratonikeia: BMC Greek (Caria, Cos, Rhodes): 150, nos. 24–30 (first century bc ); 152, no. 38 (Imperial); SNG Keckman nos. 256–257. Hydisos (second half of the second century bc ): Delrieux 2007: 66–67, Type HH/6. Cf. Debord 2010: 238. Gabrielsen (2011a: 337) suggests that the fragmentary ethnic -nos, preserved in line 1 of an inscription from Lagina, dated shortly after c.190 bc , should be restored as another polis, and proposes [Tabe]nos; Şahin 2003; SEG 53. 1229. Van Bremen (2004: 378–379) suggests that a list of donors recorded in HTC 61 belonged to a community of polis status, which included a Macedonian contingent and was also a member of the Chrysaoric League; she connects this polis with the koinon of the Laodikeis attested in HTC 89, and suggests a location in the vicinity of Muğla.

5

Delimiting ‘Caria’ and the ‘Carians’

Figure 5 Silver obol from Halikarnassos, fifth century bc , depicting the forepart of Pegasos

that they were ‘not of Carian lineage’.137 Strabo referred to the confederacy as a systema, apparently meaning ‘commonality’ or ‘association’,138 while the koinon of the Chrysaoreis is attested in an inscription from Lagina.139 Two inscriptions describe the Chrysaoreis as an ethnos,140 and in a number of documents individuals are identified both as a member of the Chrysaoreis and by their polis ethnic.141 But the Chrysaoric League did not fulfil the function of a wide-reaching league, and was not coterminous with the ‘Carians’: in a letter from Philip V to Mylasa as part of the long-running dispute between Mylasa and the priests of Labraunda, he decreed ‘that the shrine belonged neither to the Chrysaoreis nor to the rest of the Carians but was yours’.142 137

138 139

140

141 142

Strab. 14. 2. 25: καὶ Στρατονικεῖς δὲ τοῦ συστήματος μετέχουσιν, οὐκ ὄντες τοῦ Καρικοῦ γένους, ἀλλ᾽ ὅτι κώμας ἔχουσι τοῦ Χρυσαορικοῦ συστήματος. Stratonikeia was a Macedonian settlement, but there were a number of pre-existing settlements in the region which belonged to the league. See Cohen 1995: 268ff. There is evidence that the region was under Ptolemaic control during the 270s bc ; I. Stratonikeia 1002 is dated to the ninth year of Ptolemy son of Ptolemy. See Van Bremen 2003, for evidence of a Ptolemaic presence at the nearby sanctuary of Panamara. Strab. 14. 2. 25. Cf. Gabrielsen 2011a: 334. Şahin 2003, l. 68 (SEG 53. 1229); the members of the confederacy were referred to as τὸ πλῆθος (l. 64). I. Mylasa 101, l.17: τοῦ ἔθνους τοῦ Χρυσαορέων; FD 3. 4. 163, l. 12: ἐκ τοῦ Χρυσαορέων ἔθνεος. Gabrielsen 2011a: 336. I. Labraunda 5, ll. 14–16: τὸ [μὲν] |ἱερὸν οὔτε Χρυσαορεῦσιν προσήκει[ν] ο̣ὔ̣τ̣ε [τοῖς] | λοιπ̣οῖς Καρσίν ἀλλ’ ὑμέτερον εἶναι. The Chrysaoreis were excluded from Labraunda as a result of this dispute, because ‘they desired to appropriate it for themselves’ (ll. 16–18: το̣[ὺς δ]ὲ Χ[ρυ]|σαορεῖς ζητοῦντας ἐ[ξι]διάσασθαι αὐτ[οῦ ἐκ]|[κλε]ίειν). Another inscription from Labraunda (I. Labraunda 43), dated to 267 bc , records an honorific decree for one Apollonios ‘for his virtue and benevolence [which he continually has] towards king Ptolemy and towards

55

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The inner workings of the Chrysaoric League and its function(s) are currently opaque. An inscription from Amyzon, dated to the reign of Antiochos III, reveals that members were expected to contribute financially to the league.143 It lists contributions to the Chrysaoric League made by the male citizens of the city, and a preliminary decree described the process by which the funds were raised.144 We can recognise the league’s strong religious character, with activities focused on the temple of Zeus Chrysaoreus in Stratonikeia; whether it also had a political dimension is less assured, nor is it known how civic interests interplayed with those of the league.145 P. Debord has suggested that the Ptolemies may have played a role in establishing the regional profile of the league, or at least offered their endorsement.146 It is an intriguing proposition, although one that does not necessarily reflect its origins. At the moment we can only assert the regional prominence of the Chrysaoric League, and its utilisation of local mythological traditions to articulate a distinctly Carian sense of commonality. Attempts to project a communal identity in both regional leagues were consciously done, and drew upon the Carian past of the region; a sense of ‘Carianness’ was employed to forge unity among the communities concerned. This does not mean that this was the only level of identification important in the region; rather that the non-Hellenic history of the region remained pertinent when forging a sense of self. The variations within the region should not be disguised. As noted above, the cultural narratives of a number of coastal communities were shaped by interaction between Greeks and the native inhabitants of the region. Further inland, the city of Aphrodisias appears to have commemorated the complexities of its history and borderland location; in the Imperial basilica reliefs, the community embraced various cultural influences,

143 144

145

146

the Chrysaoreis’ (ll. 13–14: ἐ]π̣αινέ̣σ̣αι Ἀ̣πολλ̣ώνιον ἀρ̣ετῆς ἕ̣ν̣εκ[ε]ν̣ κ̣α̣ὶ̣ ε̣ὐ̣ν̣[οίας ἣν ἔχων] |[διατελ]εῖ εἴς τε [β]ασιλέα Πτολ̣ε̣μ̣α̣ῖ̣[ο]ν̣ κ̣α̣ὶ̣ ε̣ἰ̣ς̣ Χρ̣υ̣σ̣α̣ο̣ρ̣ε̣ῖ̣ς̣). The association with Labraunda might indicate that the regular meeting point at Stratonikeia had not yet been established; see Crampa I. Labraunda Vol. II: 50; disputed by Şahin 2003: 1. Debord (2003: 137–139) suggests that the transfer of the base of the league to Stratonikeia may have been a Seleukid initiative, so they could utilise the league for their own profit. Mylasan membership of the Chrysaoric League is attested elsewhere (see Şahin 2003) and it is not known how this apparent rift affected the standing of Mylasa in the league. Robert and Robert Amyzon no. 28. A number of citizens provided an advance of the total due, which all citizen men had to reimburse within a year; van Bremen 2004: 380. Gabrielsen (2011a: 342–344) raises the possibility that the league was a ‘federal state’; however, with the available evidence this remains speculative. Cf. Debord 2003: 131ff. Debord 2003: 137.

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and claimed founders with links to Phrygia, Lycia and even Assyria alongside Caria.147 According to later historical narratives, the Carians were not the only native inhabitants of the region, with a close association recorded between the Carians and the Leleges.148 Broadly speaking, ‘Leleges’ was employed as a generic label to describe the pre-Hellenic inhabitants of the Aegean, in a similar vein to the Pelasgians.149 But there is some confusion regarding their relationship with the Carians: according to Herodotus the Carians were known as Leleges when they inhabited the Aegean islands,150 while Strabo writes that the Carians displaced the Leleges when they moved to the mainland.151 As he continues, there was debate over how to distinguish between them: ‘some conjecture that they are the same as the Carians, and others that they were only fellow-inhabitants and fellow-soldiers of these’.152 Again, the task is not necessarily to isolate the ‘true’ Leleges among the various traditions, but rather to consider what these narratives contributed to regional identity. In the third century bc , Philip of Theangela distinguished between them in his historical work on the region, said to have been titled ‘On the Carians and the Leleges’. In a fragment, he described the Leleges as serfs of the Carians, both in the past and present times.153 This is the only reference in our sources to the Leleges as a servile population; however, the possibility arises that a group in Caria identified themselves as ‘Leleges’ and developed a distinct identity in the history of the region. In the region around Halikarnassos, a further eight cities were said to have been settled by the Leleges, six of which were incorporated by Maussollos into the synoikism of Halikarnassos.154 Strabo was also able to identify monuments as characteristically ‘Lelegian’ in the Augustan period; he wrote of 147

148 149 150 151 152

153

154

IAph2007 6. 1. Ninos and Semiramis were depicted alongside Pegasos and Bellerophon, and a figure identified as Gordis. On the frieze, see now Yildirim 2004; Chaniotis 2009b; Linant De Bellefonds 2011: 33–41; on the cultural complexity of Aphrodisias, see van Bremen 2010b. Aphrodisias served as the metropolis of Caria in the Imperial period. On this topic, see Flensted-Jensen and Carstens 2004; Rumscheid 2009b. Flensted-Jensen and Carstens 2004: 110. Hdt. 1. 171. 2. Strab. 14. 2. 27. Strab. 7. 7. 2. Elsewhere Strabo (13. 1. 59) writes that the Leleges ‘in earlier times were so numerous that they not only took possession of parts of Caria’, but also cut off for themselves a large portion of Pisidia; later ‘when they went out on expeditions with the Carians, they became distributed throughout the whole of Greece, and the tribe (τὸ γένος) disappeared’. FGrH 741 F2 (Athen. 6. 101): Φίλιππος ὁ Θεαγγελεὺς ἐν τῶι Περὶ Καρῶν καὶ Λελέγων συγγράμματι καταλέξας τοὺς Λακεδαιμονίων εἵλωτας καὶ τοὺς Θετταλικοὺς πενέστας καὶ Κᾶράς φησι τοῖς Λέλεξιν ὡς οἰκέταις χρήσασθαι πάλαι τε καὶ νῦν. Cf. F1 (Strab. 14. 2. 28): τὰ Καρικά; F3 (Scol. Eur. Rhes. 509): Περὶ Καρῶν. Strab. 13. 1. 59.

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certain ‘Lelegian settlements’ in the vicinity of Miletos, as well as Lelegian tombs and abandoned forts in Caria.155 It is not possible to detect any subdivision in the material record between Carian and Lelegian populations,156 but that need not have impacted upon the belief that there was a distinction. The Leleges add another level to the already complex history of the region; it is possible that some concept of a Lelegian identity was developed and assumed by certain peoples in southwestern Anatolia. *

*

*

A tangible and well-defined notion of Carian identity continues to elude the modern observer. It is possible to trace a sense of unity through shared language and religion, and in unclearly defined koina, but such conceptualisations of a regional commonality did not remain constant. Any attempts to articulate a Carian identity would have been formulated to reflect a certain self-image, and in contexts where this level of identification resonated; that is to say, when it was deemed significant to both individual and/or communal identity. Defining oneself as a Carian, for instance, was of greater relevance when interacting with individuals from outside the region. Within southwestern Anatolia, polis and tribal identities were more significant, promoted in festivals and in the practice of shared cults;157 in other contexts, geographical identities would have been more relevant than a sense of ethnic unity.158 The intricacies of such a picture should not be simplified in order to seek a ‘genuine’ conception of Carian identity. The fluctuating socio-political background affected the way a community interacted with its environment, and the criteria by which a conception of Caria was articulated inevitably shifted over time. However, an awareness of the Carian aspects of local history was perpetuated long into the Hellenistic age and beyond, and was 155 156

157

158

Strab. 7. 7. 2; 13. 1. 59. Flensted-Jensen and Carstens 2004 attempted to identify the structures referred to by Strabo. A.-M. Carstens surveyed a number of fortifications along the Halikarnassian peninsula, and concluded that any distinctive features reflected the local materials available, rather than any ethnic designation. At Mylasa, the three separate phylai (Otōrkondeis, Hyarbesytai, Konodōrkondeis) seem to have retained their own separate cults of Zeus (e.g. Zeus Otōrkondeōn). See now Debord 2001: 24; he suggests that this was also the case for the syngeneia, the subdivisions of the phylai at Mylasa. Thonemann 2011: 22–49, proposes that the inhabitants of the Maeander valley had a sense of regional association based on the river; he traces this in the maeander iconography used on coinage of cities in the river basin. Thonemann also draws attention (14–15, with n. 34) to the designation Pedieis, ‘Plain-dwellers’, used by the Prienians to refer to the inhabitants of the plain; their communality was topographically defined, but there is no indication that it referred to an ethnic distinction; I. Priene1 3 (I. Priene2 16) ll. 14–15; I. Priene1 14 (I. Priene2 2) l. 6.

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even employed to encourage cooperation between communities in certain periods.159 At an individual level, the continued popularity of names associated with the Hekatomnid dynasty during the Hellenistic and into the Imperial period, notably Hekatomnos and Artemisia, may indicate a desire to recall a distinctly Carian ‘golden age’ of regional history.160 Communities recognised and incorporated the complicated past of the region into their civic narratives. In the case of Halikarnassos, the city was said to have been a Dorian settlement founded by the Troizenian Anthes, and was an original member of the Dorian Hexapolis.161 However, it was established in a region already inhabited by Carians, and the tale surrounding the Salmakis fountain, related by Vitruvius, claimed both initial conflict between the Dorian settlers and the Carian natives, and their subsequent concord. While the tale itself is a later construct, evidence for a Carian presence in Halikarnassos is suggested by onomastics.162 In the fourth century bc , the city was refounded by the Carian dynast Maussollos, effectively making it the capital of his satrapy. A  number of the communities incorporated into the realm of Halikarnassos continued to bear Carian names, including Salmakis itself,163 while according to tradition a number of Lelegian communities were also brought under its administration.164 Culturally, the city also shared close links with Ionia, and the Ionic dialect was employed in Halikarnassian civic inscriptions, before being replaced by koine Greek in the Hellenistic period.165 The different phases of settlement at Halikarnassos were publicly commemorated in the Salmakis inscription in the second/first century bc , and the diversity is striking:  rather than

159

160

161

162 163

164 165

There are also hints that the notion of a Carian identity was used to articulate difference into the early second century bc : in an inscription recording the sympoliteia between Miletos and Pidasa (Milet 1. 3. 149), it is recorded that Milesian citizenship was awarded to all the wives of Pidasians, as long as they were citizens of Pidasa or another Greek city (ll. 11–12: ὅσαι ἂν ὦσιν φύσει Πιδασίδες ἢ πόλεως Ἑλλη̣|νίδος πολίτιδες). Whether this was meant to exclude women identified as ‘Carian’ is not clear; though the identification of Pidasa as a ‘Greek’ city is itself problematic; cf. Hdt. 6. 20. See Reger 2004: 152. Bresson 2007b: 228. Cf. Piras 2010: 226–227, who notes that the names Maussollos and Idrieus are not as popular; she suggests the Hekatomnos and Artemisia were popular because they were theophoric. Steph. Byz. s.v. Ἁλικαρνασσός, where the city is also described as πόλις Καρίας. Herodotus (1. 44. 2–3) records that Halikarnassos was later expelled from the league. See above: pp. 40–41. Steph. Byz. s.v. Σαλμακίς, πόλις Καρίας. Cf. Blümel 1998: 180. Bresson (2009: 111) suggests that Carian was likely to have been widely spoken in Halikarnassos until the Hellenistic period. Strab. 13. 1. 59. See above. Bresson (2009: 111) argued that it was this cultural flexibility that was the real reason behind the expulsion of Halikarnassos from the Dorian League.

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solely projecting a Dorian past, the Halikarnassians embraced numerous different elements, awarding roles to Pegasos and Bellerophon, Endymion, and Anthes among others.166 This book is interested in exploring the complexities of cultural identity in southwestern Anatolia and how it was shaped by interaction with the Aegean. For this task it is not necessary to set finite boundaries when demarcating ‘Caria’ and the ‘Carian’ people; the notion of a Carian identity was adaptable, with shifting emphases and contradictions. It was one element that shaped regional identity, and an awareness of this non-Hellenic history was maintained by the inhabitants of southwestern Anatolia throughout antiquity. Caria will thus be defined inclusively, incorporating all the communities that fall into the geographical parameters of the region as it is conventionally defined. Those ‘Greek’ settlements located in southwestern Anatolia that retained an awareness of an earlier, ‘Carian’ stage of their history, including Miletos and Magnesia-on-the Maeander, will also fall within the scope of enquiry. The focus will now return to the Cretan link, examining the various ways in which some form of affiliation was transmitted in Carian local mythologies and historical traditions.

166

Here I disagree with the assessment of Bresson (2007b: 224) and Bremmer (2009: 308) that the text was actively promoting the city’s Hellenic heritage and eliding its Carian past; as noted, Pegasos and Bellerophon had strong traditions in Caria, while the appearance of Endymion should again be considered in a local context due to his association with Mt. Latmos. Cf. Gagné 2006: 21–24.

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2

The Role of Crete in the Mythologies, Local Histories and Cults of Caria

The process of ‘remembering’ the past was closely entwined with self-perception in the ancient world, and mythological traditions were utilised to articulate or legitimate something about identity in the present. Due to the nature of our evidence, we are concerned primarily with communal traditions in this book; that is, those that transmit the mythology and history of a particular polis or community. This concept is necessarily broad in its remit; furthermore it is not always clear in what sense traditions, as they have survived in our sources, reflect an ‘official’ narrative endorsed by a particular community.1 Within a group, various versions of the past would have been preserved in the ‘memory’ of individuals that made up the group; these overlapped and influenced one another through contact and communication to form a pool of ‘common knowledge’, or shared versions of the past.2 It is this communal perspective that is often most difficult to access, and we should not assume that the versions recorded by erudite writers such as Herodotus, Strabo and Diodorus Siculus correspond directly to those related by members of the community themselves. It is also important to acknowledge that our sources derive from various different periods, spanning centuries. Particular traditions could be shaped and reworked over time, and thus the dates of our sources must be taken into consideration. A more direct insight into civic narratives is offered by coinage, sculpture and epigraphy, which is the closest the modern observer can get to an officially endorsed narrative, but we should not consequently presume that this version was static or not liable to changes in emphasis or detail. The core tradition linking Caria with Crete was based on their ancestral philia. This broader account was further conflated with local narratives in southwestern Anatolia to form a body of mythologies that related a ‘Cretan link’. The place of Crete, and figures connected to the island, in the mythologies, cults and civic histories of Caria is the focus of this chapter. Communal

1 2

Thomas 1989: 197–198. Vansina 1985: 153. Cf. Csapo 2005: 134ff. On the relationship of personal memory to collective memory, see Ricouer 2004: 93ff.

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narratives incorporated various elements that could shift in different contexts and at different times. There was always the potential for diffusion, and the civic mythologies and histories that have been transmitted are by no means coherent. It is the sheer multitude of narratives and perspectives that complicates any modern attempt at analysis. The objective is not to rationalise such accounts, but rather to examine the processes by which communities accessed their past;3 mythologies played a central role in the formation of what can be termed the ‘social memory’ of the group.4

Ancient Engagement with the Past In the ancient world the ‘mythological’ past was not clearly distinguished from the ‘historical’ past.5 Herodotus does distinguish between the ‘time of the gods’ and the ‘time of men’ in his dealings with earlier periods, yet it is notable that the latter also included the tales of heroes.6 As C. Calame observes, there appears to have been no category reserved for fictive stories in the ancient world, with no equivalent to the modern notion of ‘myth’.7 There was an established temporal succession, leading from the time of gods and heroes to more recent events; but the boundary between what was ‘historical’ from a modern perspective and what was ‘myth’ was fluid.8 Within this framework, genealogies were employed by both individuals and communities to establish the antiquity of their history, and to anchor them in a broader network that had recourse to a shared body of myth.9 The legendary past was prioritised in this scheme, and used to claim prestigious lineage and to legitimise relationships. Ties between peoples and states were frequently justified through descent from a common mythological source.10 This was facilitated by the inherent flexibility of mythological tradition, with the simultaneous transmission of inconsistent and often conflicting versions.11 This was particularly the case for the period before

3

4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11

Mac Sweeney 2015b: 7–8. Cf. Ricouer 2004: 448: ‘one can always recount differently, by eliminating, by shifting the emphasis, by recasting the protagonists of the action in a different light along with the outlines of the action’. See Fentress and Wickham 1992. Gehrke 2001: 295–296; 2011: 47. Cf. Fentress and Wickham 1992: 82. Calame 2003: 19. Calame 2003: 15–18. Calame 2003: 20. Calame 2003: 20; Gehrke 2011: 47; Thomas 2011. Thomas 2011: 74–77. Cf. Mac Sweeney 2015b: 2ff.

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the advent of literacy, when mythologies and histories were communicated orally. Hecataeus of Miletos writes at the beginning of his Genealogiai (late sixth/early fifth century bc ): ‘I write these things, as they seem to me to be true; for the stories of the Greeks seem to me to be many and ridiculous.’12 But such plurality did not undermine their significance, and Hecataeus’ apparent scepticism should not be equated to a dismissal; rather it referred to the multitude of myths that were transmitted. Hecataeus’ intention was to bring order to this diverse body, not challenge its value.13 The expansion of literacy did not signal the end of the malleability of mythologies, nor did the decision to commit a particular version to writing negate the potential for renegotiation, and many versions continued to exist concurrently.14 The value of such tales in the ancient world was judged by their social utility, rather than their veracity.15 The most frequent motifs found in communal mythological traditions were related to their foundation, or subsequent aspects of their history that were considered significant, for instance the arrival of settlers and/ or wandering heroes.16 The past retained its relevance through the reproduction and repetition of such narratives within the community, ensuring the communication of what Maurice Halbwachs originally termed ‘collective memory’.17 The means by which a community accesses the past is not a direct process of remembrance: it is not the lived experiences of the individuals in the community being remembered, but rather the recollection of a shared history as it has been transmitted in public discourse.18 Halbwachs proposed that collective frameworks were used by the collective memory ‘to reconstruct an image of the past which is in accord, in each epoch, with the predominant thoughts of the society’.19 That is, collective memory is shaped and altered by the continual evolution of these narratives in the process of transmission. As Halbwachs writes: ‘the various groups that compose society are capable at every moment of reconstructing their past’, but ‘they most frequently distort that past in the act of reconstructing it’.20 12

13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20

FGrH 1 F1a: Ἑκαταῖος Μιλήσιος ὧδε μυθεῖται· τάδε γράφω, ὥς μοι δοκεῖ ἀληθέα εἶναι· οἱ γὰρ ῾Ελλήνων λόγοι πολλοί τε καὶ γελοῖοι, ὡς ἐμοὶ φαίνονται, εἰσίν. Thomas 2011: 84. Fentress and Wickham 1992: 46. Cf. Thomas 1989: 83ff. See Calame 2003: 15–17. Cf. Malkin 2015. As distinct from individual memory; see Halbwachs 1992. Cf. Mac Sweeney 2015b. Halbwachs 1992: 40. Halbwachs 1992: 182.

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The act of remembrance within a community reflects the contemporary preoccupations and shared ideas of that community, which in turn helps to define membership and articulate a sense of commonality.21 The last decades have witnessed an increase in scholarly engagement with the notion of collective memory. P. Connerton, in his work on how societies remember, writes that groups provide ‘individuals with the frameworks within which their memories are localised by a kind of mapping’; the version of the past that is transmitted in the group has a legitimating function in fostering a sense of communal identity of the group.22 As he develops, ‘a community is reminded of its identity as represented by and told in a master narrative’.23 J. Fentress and C. Wickham focus on the notion of ‘social memory’, and again emphasise the extent to which ‘our experience of the present is embedded in past experience’.24 They underline the functional nature of much memory: ‘it can be no more accurate than the ideas and recollections upon which it is built’.25 In an ancient context, J. Assmann has advanced the application of ‘cultural memory’ to the study of social dynamics and the formation of group identities.26 Within this schema, Assmann stresses the importance of myths and histories to communal consciousness as a means of forging a sense of commonality; they provided what he calls the ‘connective structure’ by which a community could establish their unity and shared memory.27 In antiquity, mythological traditions were utilised by the group to engender a sense of belonging among its members, preserving aspects of the past that remained pertinent in the consciousness of the community. Again, we should not presume that all individuals within the group assigned such narratives an equal significance;28 but at the same time their perpetuation was a communal affair. The transmission of traditions was dependent on their communication and repetition within the group, whether through religious ritual, civic festivals or other public performances.29 Connerton focuses on the role of ritual performance in conveying a particular image of the past, with an emphasis on commemorative ceremonies that ‘explicitly refer to prototypical persons and events’.30 An ancient example of such a ritual can 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30

Cf. Halbwachs 1992: 52–53. Connerton 1989: 37. Connerton 1989: 70. Fentress and Wickham 1992: 24. Fentress and Wickham 1992: 24. Assmann 2006; 2011. Assmann 2011: 2–3. Cf. Foxhall and Luraghi 2010: 9. Assmann 2011: 23. Connerton 1989: 61; on commemorative ceremonies: 63–70.

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be identified in the annual festival held by the Ephesians at the grove of Ortygia to commemorate the birth of Apollo and Artemis. According to Strabo, the ceremony incorporated some form of contest and a banquet, weaving this tradition into the civic fabric of Ephesos.31 The past, whether mythical or otherwise, was highly visible in the landscape of a community. The attachment of traditions to particular sites or civic markers created lieux de mémoire around which social memory could crystallise.32 Pausanias remarks on the multitude of communities that claimed that Zeus was born or reared among them, and were able to point to landmarks associated with these traditions.33 Such tales were not limited to the gods, and as we will see, the graves of the various figures associated with the foundation of a city were frequently commemorated in the civic landscape.34 A broader engagement with the past among the communities of western Anatolia can further be noted in their interaction with the traces of earlier civilisations,35 or in the reuse or engagement with artefacts from earlier periods.36 At Roman Sardis, for instance, Archaic Lydian sculptures, including a dedication in the Lydian language, were regrouped and repositioned;37 although the intention is unknown, this sculptural group actively engaged with the Lydian antiquity of Sardis and incorporated it into the landscape of the city.38 The longevity of particular narratives depended on their continued relevance to the group, and a community would project an image that was in accord with the prevalent mentality.39 Episodes could be emphasised or promoted in particular contexts, and in the same way they could be forgotten.40 Mythological and historical traditions were endowed with a social function, and offered the means by which a community could cement its unity and articulate something about its identity in the ancient world. In the majority of Carian narratives, the ‘Cretan link’ reflected only one phase of settlement in the region, and often it was one of the earliest. It is 31 32 33

34

35

36 37 38 39 40

Strab. 14. 1. 20. Nora 1984–92; 1989. Cf. Ma 2009. See Paus. 4. 33. 1: ‘It is a hopeless task, however zealously undertaken, to enumerate all the peoples who claim that Zeus was born and brought up among them.’ For instance, the graves of Neileus (see Chapter 3, n. 9), Oinopion (see below, pp. 73–74), or Leukophrys (see below, pp. 79–80). See Rojas and Sergueenkova 2014 on ancient engagement with Hittite and Neo-Hittite reliefs and inscriptions. Rojas 2013; Kowalleck 2014. The Greek-Lydian bilingual inscription was reused in this context; see Chapter 1, n. 56. Rojas 2013: 182–184. See Assmann 2011: 17–20. Assmann 2011: 23.

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not the intention here to prioritise this aspect of regional history over other traditions, for instance the notion of Carian autochthony or those associated with the ‘Ionian’ and ‘Dorian migrations’;41 rather, it is the prevalence and persistence of this link in Caria that requires consideration, addressing what this aspect communicated about regional identity.

Sarpedon, Miletos and Kaunos The city of Miletos was situated at the mouth of the Maeander valley, in the region that is geographically identified as Caria.42 It was one of the twelve original Ionian cities in western Anatolia, and according to the historical mythologies of the city, the Ionian foundation was led by Neileus, son of Kodros, the king of Athens.43 However, a number of other traditions record an earlier stage of settlement, in which the founding figure derived from Crete. According to Ephorus (fourth century bc ), the site was founded by Sarpedon, the brother of Minos, who brought settlers from the island, and named the city after the Cretan city Miletos.44 Another variant centred on the figure of Miletos, who fled from Crete and founded an eponymous city in Anatolia. Different reasons have been recorded for Miletos’ escape from the island, although broadly speaking his departure was due to Minos’ jealousy. The tale outlined by Apollodorus (second century bc ) described a quarrel between the brothers Minos, Sarpedon and Rhadamanthys for the affection of the youth Miletos, who was the son of Apollo and Areia, the daughter of Kleochos.45 Miletos showed a preference for Sarpedon, which resulted in a war between the brothers in which Minos prevailed. Miletos and Sarpedon fled to Anatolia, where Miletos founded the eponymous city in Caria; Sarpedon subsequently allied himself with Kilix against the Lycians, and became king of Lycia. The mythographer Herodoros of Herakleia (active c.400 bc ) related a similar account: Miletos left Crete to escape the envy of Minos, and travelled first to Samos before founding the city in Caria.46 In another version, Antoninus Liberalis (second/third century ad ) described Miletos as the son

41 42

43 44 45 46

See Bresson 2009; Crielaard 2009; Herda 2009. For a more complete overview of Milesian foundation mythologies, see Gorman 2001: 13ff.; Herda 2009; Mac Sweeney 2013: 44–79. Paus. 7. 2. 1–4; Ael. VH 8. 5. Ephorus FGrH 70 F 127 (Strab. 14. 1. 6). Apollod. Bib. 3. 1. 2. Cf. Aristokritos FGrH 493 F3 (Schol. Apoll. Rhod. 1. 185). Herodoros FGrH 31 F45.

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of Apollo and Akakallis, the daughter of Minos; fearing Minos, Akakallis exposed the infant in a wood, but by the will of Apollo, Miletos was nurtured by wolves and so survived. As Miletos grew up, Minos developed an uncontrollable lust for him, so, on the advice of Sarpedon, Miletos boarded a boat and escaped to Caria.47 In Pausanias (second century ad ), the skeleton of the tale is again preserved, with Miletos fleeing from Minos and travelling to Anatolia; although the reason why Miletos needed to escape is not recorded.48 The mythologies surrounding the arrival of the Cretan Miletos in Caria create the impression of his peaceful acceptance within the region.49 In certain versions, the foundation of Miletos involved the introduction of Cretan settlers, and according to Pausanias, the Carians lived together with the Cretans.50 This is in contrast to the later arrival of the Ionians, which was often characterised by discord: Pherekydes (fifth century bc ) recorded that the Ionians had expelled the Carians before settling in the region,51 while Herodotus wrote that the Ionian settlers married Carian women after killing their parents and husbands.52 The Cretan migration to Miletos, on the other hand, involved their integration with the native Carians.53 An associated strand of the Miletos myth revolved around the figures of Kaunos and his sister Byblis as the children of Miletos.54 According to Ovid, the twins Kaunos and Byblis were the offspring of Miletos and Kyane, the daughter of Maeander,55 while Antoninus Liberalis claimed that they were born of Miletos and Eidothee, the daughter of the king of Caria.56 Parthenius of Nicaea (first century bc ) recorded the tradition surrounding the twins in 47 48 49

50 51 52 53

54 55 56

Ant. Lib. Met. 30. Paus. 7. 2. 5. In one recorded narrative, the figure of Miletos is described as autochthonous: Cramer 1839: Eklogē Historiōn 193, ll. 29–30: Μίλητον ὑπὸ Μιλήτου αὐτόχθονος κτισθῆναι. See Bachvarova 2015: 157. Paus. 7. 2. 5: οἱ δὲ Κᾶρες οἱ πρότερον νεμόμενοι τὴν χώραν σύνοικοι τοῖς Κρησὶν ἐγένοντο. Pherekydes FGrH 3 F155 (Strab. 14. 1. 3). Hdt. 1. 146. 2; see above, pp. 39–40. Another potential connection between Crete and Miletos can be conjectured for the figure of Asterios. According to Pausanias (1. 35. 6), Asterios was the son of Anax, an ancient king of Miletos, and grandson of Ge; an islet in the bay of Miletos was named after him, and it was claimed as the location of his grave. However, Asterios/Asterion was also known as a Cretan: according to Apollodorus (3. 1. 2), he was a Cretan prince, who married Europa and brought up her children, Minos, Rhadamanthys and Sarpedon. Diodorus (4. 60. 3) recorded a similar account, although Asterios was described as the king of Crete, while in Pausanias (2. 31. 1), Asterion was the son of Minos, who was killed by Theseus. Cf. Marek I. Kaunos, 39–44. Ov. Met. 9. 451–454. Ant. Lib. Met. 30. Cf. Parth. 11. 2: Miletos united with Tragasia, the daughter of Kelainos, who bore the twins.

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his Story of Byblis, based upon the History of Miletos by Aristokritos and the lost Foundation of Kaunos by Apollonius Rhodius. Parthenius wrote that, in the most common version of the tale, Byblis felt an unnatural love for her twin brother. In his horror, Kaunos fled and ‘crossed over into the land at that time possessed by the Leleges’, where he founded the city that bore his name.57 Byblis blamed herself for Kaunos’ exile, and in her despair hanged herself from an oak tree; ‘some also say that from her tears flowed the everlasting spring called Byblis’.58 According to Parthenius, ‘over her Milesian maidens rend their robes’, which may indicate the development of a ritual associated with her myth in Miletos.59 In another version of this myth, attributed by Parthenius to the poet Nikainetos, it was Kaunos who fell in love with Byblis; unable to rid himself of his passion, he left his home and travelled far from his native land, where he founded a city, ‘settling there the scattered Ionians’.60 The mythographer Konon (first century bc ) also related that it was Kaunos who developed a ‘hopeless desire’ for his sister, forcing him to leave Miletos. With his departure, Byblis was ‘seized with numberless pains’ and also left her paternal home. She wandered through the desert, ‘renouncing her unfulfilled longings’, before she hanged herself from a walnut tree; ‘there from her weeping the tears ran down and formed a spring, the name of which among the locals is Byblis’.61 In his wanderings, Kaunos travelled to Lycia, where he learnt of Byblis’ fate from the Naiad Pronoe; he lived with her and adopted the kingship of the country. Pronoe bore Kaunos a son, Aigialos, who became king on his father’s death; ‘he gathered together the people who were living scattered about and founded a great and well-favoured city on the river, which he named Kaunos for his father’.62 In a final variant, recorded by Nonnus (end fourth/fifth century ad ), Kaunos was the brother of Miletos, rather than his son, and led the Carian people into the Indian War.63

57

58

59 60

61

62

63

Parth. 11. 3: ἀποστυγήσαντα δὲ οὕτως τὸν Καῦνον περαιωθῆναι εἰς τὴν τότε ὑπὸ Λελέγων κατεχομένην γῆν, ἔνθα κρήνη Ἐχενηΐς, πόλιν τε κτίσαι τὴν ἀπ᾿ αὐτοῦ κληθεῖσαν Καῦνον. Parth. 11. 5: φασὶ δέ τινες καὶ ἀπὸ τῶν δακρύων κρήνην ῥυῆναι ἀίδιον τὴν καλουμένην Βυβλίδα. Parth. 11. 4: ταὶ δ᾿ ἐπ᾿ ἐκείνῃ βεύδεα παρθενικαὶ Μιλησίδες ἐρρήξαντο. Parth. 11. 1: ἀπολιπεῖν τὴν οἰκίαν καὶ ὁδεύσαντα πόρρω τῆς οἰκείας χώρας πόλιν τε κτίσαι καὶ τοὺς ἀπεσκεδασμένους τότε Ἴωνας ἐνοικίσαι. Cf. Steph. Byz. s.v. Καῦνος. Konon FGrH 26 F1 2: ἔνθα δὴ κλαιούσης αὐτῆς ἐρρύη τὰ δάκρυα καὶ κρήνην ἀνῆκε, Βυβλίδα τοῖς ἐπιχωρίοις ὄνομα. Translation: Brill’s New Jacoby. Konon FGrH 26 F1 2: ἤθροισέ τε τὸν λαὸν σποράδην οἰκοῦντα καὶ πόλιν ἔκτισεν ἐπὶ τῶι ποταμῶι μεγάλην καὶ εὐδαίμονα, Καῦνον ἀπὸ τοῦ πατρὸς ἐπονομάσας. Nonn. Dionys. 13. 546–565; the tale surrounding the relationship of Kaunos with Byblis is also explored.

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Sarpedon, Miletos and Kaunos

Kaunos’ descent was traced back via Miletos to Crete. In its broadest outline, this reflects the account of Kaunian history as recorded by Herodotus, who writes that the Kaunians themselves claimed that they originally came from Crete; although he preceded this with the statement that he himself believed that they were of native stock (autochthones).64 Herodotus considered Kaunos to be distinct from the other Carian cities; as he explains, while their dialect had come to resemble that of the Carians, or the Carian theirs, in their way of life ‘they are widely separated’.65 The continued significance of the Cretan link in the civic history of Kaunos is suggested by a tribe named after Rhadamanthys;66 while the brother of Minos and Sarpedon does not play a direct role in the foundation mythologies of Kaunos as they have been preserved, he is connected with the region more broadly.67 Stephanus of Byzantium also recorded that there was a polis called Kaunos on Crete.68 Such traditions do not deny the Anatolian aspects of the city’s history; a local element was maintained through the partnering of Miletos with figures rooted in Caria, whether the daughter of the river Maeander or of Eidothee, the daughter of the king of Caria. The myth of Byblis was also woven into the landscape of the region, and variously gave her name to a fountain in Caria,69 or to a stream in the region that sprang from her tears.70 The role of Sarpedon in this body of myth has already been noted, and in one variant culminated in him becoming the king of the Lycians.71 A connection with Crete in regional mythologies was shared by both Caria and Lycia.72 Herodotus again serves as an early source; as he writes, ‘the Lycians were from Crete in ancient times (for in the past all that lived on Crete were barbarians)’.73 Again, the brothers Sarpedon and Minos had fought over royal power on Crete, and Minos had prevailed. Sarpedon was driven out with his partisans, settling in the Milyan land of Asia, which later came 64 65

66

67 68 69 70

71 72 73

Hdt. 1. 172. 1. Hdt. 1. 172. 1: προσκεχωρήκασι δὲ γλῶσσαν μὲν πρὸς τὸ Καρικὸν ἔθνος, ἢ οἱ Κᾶρες πρὸς τὸ Καυνικόν (τοῦτο γὰρ οὐκ ἔχω ἀτρεκέως διακρῖναι), νόμοισι δὲ χρέωνται κεχωρισμένοισι πολλὸν τῶν τε ἄλλων ἀνθρώπων καὶ Καρῶν. I. Kaunos, no. 64; another tribe at Kaunos was named after the mythical Athenian king Kranaos. There may be a reference to Rhadamanthys in the Salmakis inscription from Halikarnassos; see Chapter 5, n. 40. See below, pp. 73–74. Steph. Byz. s.v. Καῦνος… ἔστι καὶ ἄλλη πόλις ἐν Κρήτῃ. Ov. Met. 9. 663–665. Ant. Lib. Met. 30; Parth. 11. 5. According to Stephanus (s.v. Βύβλος), the πόλις Φοινίκης of Byblos was also named after the daughter of Miletos. See above. On Lycia, see Bryce 1986b; Potter 2007. Hdt. 1. 173. 1: οἱ δὲ Λύκιοι ἐκ Κρήτης τὠρχαῖον γεγόνασι (τὴν γὰρ Κρήτην εἶχον τὸ παλαιὸν πᾶσαν βάρβαροι).

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to be named Lycia.74 According to Herodotus, their mixed heritage was still traceable in the fifth century bc , as the customs of the Lycians ‘are in part Cretan and in part Carian’.75 The link with Crete is also preserved in Lycian civic mythologies: Hecataeus of Miletos described Xanthos, the eponymous founder of the Lycian city, as of either Cretan or Egyptian origin,76 while in St Augustine, Xanthos is described as the king of Crete and the abductor of Europa.77 The neighbouring Carians and Lycians developed distinct regional identities; however, culturally78 and linguistically79 the two were affiliated. According to Strabo, the poets, especially the tragedians, frequently confused the tribes (ta ethnē) of Anatolia, with the conflation of the Lycians with the Carians.80 There was also a close correlation between their local mythologies, with the multifarious strands of the myths of Pegasos, Chrysaor and Bellerophon all featuring large in both Caria and Lycia;81 these links were perpetuated in civic mythologies, and according to Stephanus, the Carian polis of Chrysaoris (originally called Idrias) had first been founded by Lycians.82 The figures of Bellerophon and Chrysaor were also known 74

75 76 77 78

79

80 81

82

Herodotus (1. 173. 2–3) elaborated, ‘what is now possessed by the Lycians was in the past Milyan, and the Milyans were then called Solymi. For a while Sarpedon ruled them, and the people were called Termilae, which was the name that they brought with them and that is still given to the Lycians by their neighbours’ (τὴν γὰρ νῦν Λύκιοι νέμονται, αὕτη τὸ παλαιὸν ἦν Μιλυάς, οἱ δὲ Μιλύαι τότε Σόλυμοι ἐκαλέοντο. ἕως μὲν δὴ αὐτῶν Σαρπηδὼν ἦρχε, οἳ δὲ ἐκαλέοντο τό πέρ τε ἠνείκαντο οὔνομα καὶ νῦν ἔτι καλέονται ὑπὸ τῶν περιοίκων οἱ Λύκιοι, Τερμίλαι). The Termilae were later named Lycians after Lykos, son of Pandion, who had joined Sarpedon after being banished from Athens by his brother Aegeus. Strabo (12. 8. 5) recorded a similar version, whereby the Termilae were settled in the country which is now called Lycia, having been brought from Crete by Sarpedon. Hdt. 1. 173. 4: νόμοισι δὲ τὰ μὲν Κρητικοῖσι τὰ δὲ Καρικοῖσι χρέωνται. Steph. Byz. s.v. Ξάνθος. August. De. Civ. 18. 12. A Lycian-style tomb has been found in Caria as far north as Kafaca, to the west of Muğla (Roos 2006: 16). Three other tombs have been discovered at Karadiken, to the east of Sekköy, which again attest to the potential for assimilation and exchange: one tomb is standardly Carian, one Lycian, and one mixes both styles (Roos 2006: 13–15; cf. HTC 70–71). On the border between Caria and Lycia, see Marek, I. Kaunos, 80–81; Tietz 2003 3–5. Keen 1998: 67. Both Carian and Lycian belong to the ‘Luwic’ subgroup; see p. 1. Both languages also adopted an alphabetic script that appears to be based on the Greek alphabet; see Bryce 1986b: 54–55; Herda 2013: 463ff. Strab. 14. 3. 3. The Archaic painted tomb at Kızılbel, in the northwest of the Elmalı plain (ancient Lycia), depicted the birth of Pegasos and Chrysaor from the neck of Medusa, indicating the early significance of this mythological narrative in the region; see Mellink 1998. Pegasos is thought to be connected with the Luwian storm god of lightning, pihaššašši; Hutter 2003: 223; Debord 2010: 241–242. Bellerophon and Pegasos also feature on the founders’ reliefs of the Civic Basilica in Aphrodisias; see Chapter 1, n. 147. Steph. Byz. s.v. Χρυσαορίς.

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Sarpedon, Miletos and Kaunos

from Homer as members of the Lycian dynastic lines;83 although it seems that there was some degree of assimilation between these figures as they appeared in Homer and the version wherein they were related to Pegasos.84 The Cretan connection with Lycia was focused on the figure of Sarpedon; though, as with Bellerophon, Pegasos and Chrysaor, there appears to have been some confusion as to how to reconcile the account of Sarpedon as Minos’ brother with Sarpedon as he appears in Homer.85 Diodorus (first century bc ) recorded that Sarpedon, brother of Minos, crossed into Asia and subdued the region around Lycia. His son Euandros succeeded him as king of Lycia, and married Deidameia the daughter of Bellerophon; ‘he begat that Sarpedon who took part in the expedition against Troy with Agamemnon, although some writers have called him a son of Zeus’.86 Thus the Cretan Sarpedon was considered as the ancestor of the Sarpedon who featured in Homer. On the other hand, Apollodorus (second century bc ) regarded both figures of Sarpedon as the same: the Cretan Sarpedon sided with Kilix in his war against the Lycians, whereupon he became king of Lycia, ‘and Zeus granted him to live for three generations’.87 In Aeschylus’ Kares, they are also one and the same; a fragment of the play sees Europa worrying about the fate of her youngest son Sarpedon, who had joined the forces of the Trojans to repel the Achaean attack.88 The setting was apparently Lycia, though it had been conflated with Caria. This version seems to derive from Hesiod’s Catalogue of Women, wherein Sarpedon, Minos and Rhadamanthys are the sons of Europa, and it is this same Sarpedon who reigned over Lycia and fought the Achaeans; again Zeus had ordained that he should live for three generations, and sent him to Troy, where he met his death at the hands of Patroklos.89 It has recently been argued by S. Durnford that the origin of the name Sarpedon was Anatolian, derived from a Luwian name or title. He suggests that it may be a rendering of an Anatolian compound noun, *sar-pēdan-, related to a military rank or job position, literally meaning ‘(one having) 83

84 85

86

87 88 89

The entwined history and mythology of Caria and Lycia is further suggested by the tradition recorded in Xenomedes of Keos (fifth century bc ), whereby Bellerophon was married to the daughter of Amisodaros, the ruler of Caria; FGrH 442 F3. See Bachvarova 2015: 169. Hom. Il. 6. 154–211. See Chapter 1, n. 130. Hom. Il. 6. 199: Bellerophon had three children with the daughter of the king of Lycia; one of these, Laodamei, bore the ‘godlike Sarpedon’ with Zeus. Diod. Sic. 5. 79. 3:-4 τεκνῶσαι Σαρπηδόνα τὸν ἐπὶ Τροίαν μὲν στρατεύσαντα μετ᾽ Ἀγαμέμνονος, ὑπό τινων δὲ Διὸς υἱὸν ὀνομαζόμενον. The manuscript says that he fought with Agamemnon against Troy ; however, in Homer, Sarpedon was on the side of the Trojans. Apollod. Bib. 3. 1. 2: καὶ αὐτῷ δίδωσι Ζεὺς ἐπὶ τρεῖς γενεὰς ζῆν. Aeschy. Kares Fr. 50 (Weir-Smyth); Fr. 99 (Sommerstein). Hes. Cat. Fr. 19A (Evelyn-White); Fr. 90 (Most); Ox. Pap. 1358 Fr. 1, ll. 1–32.

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top position’, or ‘of a high place’.90 M. Bachvarova supports the idea of an Anatolian origin, though prefers to see it as a geographic term.91 She suggests that the association between the hero Sarpedon and Miletos originated from his name being applied to a nearby feature in the landscape. Furthermore, she suggests that the name is Carian rather than Lycian, again raising questions about early linguistic borrowings between the languages of Anatolia and Greek.92 The legacy of Sarpedon, either as a native Anatolian or as a Cretan, continued to permeate the region of Lycia into the Hellenistic and Roman periods. At Xanthos, a structure called the Sarpedoneion was located near the agora.93 Demes named after Sarpedon are further known at Xanthos94 and at Tlos,95 while games named the Sarpedoneia are attested at Xanthos.96 In the first century ad, Pliny the Elder recorded that the consul of Lycia, Mucianus, claimed to have read a letter sent from Troy by Sarpedon, which was preserved in a temple there.97 Sarpedon had acquired the role of a ‘generic Lycian leader’, who came to be associated with various aspects of Lycian history and mythology.98 The inconsistencies between different aspects of this wider body of myth need not be reconciled, and apparently coexisted in the ancient world. The myths associated with the migration of Sarpedon and Miletos from Crete to southwestern Anatolia are preserved in numerous sources dating from the fifth century bc through to the sixth century ad, and coexisted with the traditions surrounding the introduction of Ionian settlers under the leadership of Neileus. They were not incompatible: tradition held that the settlement of Cretans predated the arrival of the Ionians, and this pattern is mirrored in western Anatolia more widely. Indeed, Miletos and Kaunos were not the only communities in Caria that awarded a role to

90 91 92 93

94 95 96 97 98

Durnford 2008. Bachvarova 2015: 171. Bachvarova 2015: 172. Cf. Yakubovich 2010: 138–139. App. BC 4. 10. 78: Roman troops fled to the Sarpedoneion to avoid being surrounded by the Xanthians. Keen 1992: 54–55, has identified this Sarpedoneion with a building on the acropolis of Xanthos, dated c.460 bc (the so-called Building G). Due to its early date, Keen suggested that the building was a genuine heroön, connected with a cult of Sarpedon. Jones (2010: 25) has noted that from at least the fourth century bc , and perhaps earlier, heroa frequently combined the name of the hero with ‘an adjectival termination signifying possession or connection, -eion’. TAM 2. 264, l. 2; 265, l. 1: Αἴχμων Ἀπολλοδότου Σαρπηδόνιος. TAM 2. 552, l. 2; 597a, l1. 1–2: Ἀντίφιλος Ἀχαιοῦ |Σαρπηδόνιος. SEG 28. 1248, ll. 6–7: an honorary inscription for a pankratiast at the Sarpedoneia. Pliny NH 13. 27. Keen 1998: 209.

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The ‘Minoan’ Ports of Anatolia

Crete or an individual from Crete in its foundation, but form part of a much larger corpus.

The ‘Minoan’ Ports of Anatolia According to Diodorus Siculus (first century bc ), when Minos was ‘master of the sea’ (ἐθαλαττοκράτει), he ‘sent forth from Crete many colonies, and settled the greater number of the Cyclades’, seizing ‘no small part of the coast of Asia’.99 The lasting impact of Minos’ rule could be detected in Diodorus’ day, and served to explain ‘why the harbours on the islands as well as on the coast of Asia have the same designation as those of Crete, being called “of Minos” (Μινῷαι)’.100 According to tradition, Minos was not alone among his brothers in exerting his influence in western Anatolia: as observed, the role of Sarpedon in the foundation of Miletos is consistent in all versions of the myth, and he was also said to have travelled to Lycia.101 Rhadamanthys too was described by Diodorus as having come to possess ‘no small number of the islands and a large part of the sea coast of Asia, all men delivering themselves into his hands of their free will because of his justice’.102 Diodorus did not list the communities he was referring to in his statement, though it is possible that Miletos was among their number. By extension, the island of Samos may also have been included, as an additional aspect of the Milesian foundation corpus claimed that Miletos initially escaped to Samos, where he founded another eponymous settlement before he moved on to Caria.103 The first inhabitants of Karpathos were also said by Diodorus to have been certain men ‘who joined with Minos in his campaigns at the time when he was the first of the Greeks to be master of the sea’.104 Rhadamanthys played a direct role in the foundation of a settlement on Chios, where certain tales 99

100

101 102

103 104

Diod. Sic. 5. 84. 1–2: Μίνως ὁ Διὸς καὶ Εὐρώπης, βασιλεύων τῆς Κρήτης καὶ μεγάλας δυνάμεις ἔχων πεζάς τε καὶ ναυτικάς, ἐθαλαττοκράτει καὶ πολλὰς ἀποικίας ἐξαπέστειλεν ἐκ τῆς Κρήτης, τῶν δὲ Κυκλάδων νήσων τὰς πλείους κατῴκισε καὶ τοῖς λαοῖς κατεκληρούχησεν, οὐκ ὀλίγην δὲ καὶ τῆς Ἀσίας τῆς παραθαλαττίου κατέσχε. Diod. Sic. 5. 84. 2: διόπερ ἐν ταῖς νήσοις ἅμα καὶ κατὰ τὴν Ἀσίαν τὰς ἐπωνυμίας ἔχουσι Κρητῶν λιμένες καὶ Μινῷαι καλούμεναι. See pp. 71–72. Diod. Sic. 5. 79. 1: κατακτήσασθαι δὲ καὶ νήσους οὐκ ὀλίγας καὶ τῆς Ἀσίας πολλὴν τῆς παραθαλαττίου χώρας, ἁπάντων ἑκουσίως παραδιδόντων ἑαυτοὺς διὰ τὴν δικαιοσύνην. See also 5. 84. 3–4: Minos wished to get his co-ruler Rhadamanthys out of the way, so sent him off to the farthest parts of his dominion, to the islands off Ionia and Caria. Herodoros FGrH 31 F45. Diod. Sic. 5. 54. 4: τὴν δὲ Κάρπαθον πρῶτοι μὲν ᾤκησαν τῶν μετὰ Μίνω τινὲς συστρατευσαμένων, καθ’ ὃν χρόνον ἐθαλαττοκράτησε πρῶτος τῶν Ἑλλήνων.

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recorded that he had settled Oinopion, son of Minos’ daughter Ariadne.105 According to Pausanias, the tomb of Oinopion was one of the sights of the island, where stories about his deeds were told.106 It has been argued that these stories were inscribed on the tomb itself, and the discovery of an inscription on Chios, dated to the late Hellenistic period, might support this suggestion; it lists the people who travelled with Oinopion to the island, including three sons and three wives (a fourth wife did not travel with him).107 The city of Erythrai, on the coast of Anatolia, also incorporated Rhadamanthys into its foundation tradition:  the eponymous figure of Erythros was said to have been one of the sons of Rhadamanthys, and Rhadamanthys bestowed on him the kingship of the city which bore his name.108 Cretan settlers were involved in its foundation, although according to Pausanias the population was also said to have incorporated Carians, Lycians and Pamphylians:  ‘Lycians because of their kinship (syngeneia) with the Cretans, as they came of old from Crete, having fled along with Sarpedon; Carians because of their ancient friendship (philian ek palaiou) with Minos; Pamphylians because they too belong to the Greek race (genous metestin Hellēnikou)’.109 Together they inhabited Erythrai until Kleopos, the son of Kodros, introduced settlers, after which Erythrai was considered one of the twelve cities of Ionia. But the myth of Erythros continued to be commemorated in the city; an inscription dated to the second century bc reveals that sacrifices were made to Erythros,110 while civic coin types from the third century ad name Erythros as KTIΣTΗΣ, ‘founder’.111 The origins of the sanctuary of Klaros, attached to the Ionian city of Kolophon, also claimed a Cretan connection, in this case not immediately linked to Minos and his family. Pausanias attributed its foundation to Rhakios from Crete,112 though another version described him as the son

105

106

107 108 109

110

111 112

Diod. Sic. 5. 79. 1; a variant account recorded that Oinopion was a son of Dionysus. Cf. Diod. Sic. 5. 84. 4; Paus. 7. 4. 8. Paus. 7. 5. 13: ‘One of the sights of Chios is the grave of Oinopion, about whose exploits they tell certain legends’ (Χίοις δὲ ὁ τοῦ Οἰνοπίωνος τάφος θέαν τε παρέχεται καί τινας καὶ λόγους ἐς τοῦ Οἰνοπίωνος τὰ ἔργα); cf. Habicht 1984: 44–45. Condoléon 1949: 5–9, no. 1; Habicht 1984: 45. Diod. Sic. 5. 79. 1; 5. 84. 3; Paus. 7. 3. 7. Paus. 7. 3. 7: ἐχόντων δὲ αὐτὴν ὁμοῦ τοῖς Κρησὶ Λυκίων καὶ Καρῶν τε καὶ Παμφύλων, Λυκίων μὲν κατὰ συγγένειαν τὴν Κρητῶν – καὶ γὰρ οἱ Λύκιοι τὸ ἀρχαῖον εἰσιν ἐκ Κρήτης, οἳ Σαρπηδόνι ὁμοῦ ἔφυγον – Καρῶν δὲ κατὰ φιλίαν ἐκ παλαιοῦ πρὸς Μίνω, Παμφύλων δὲ ὅτι γένους μέτεστιν Ἑλληνικοῦ. Varιnlιoğlu 1980: 1, l. 6 (p. 150); a new fragment of a sacrificial calendar published as I. Erythrai 207. Cf. Robert 1981: 355, n. 80; Habicht 1984: 44. Imhoof-Blumer 1911: 1; BMC Greek (Ionia): 142, no. 227. Paus. 7. 3. 1; cf. 9. 33. 2.

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of Lebes, a Mycenaean.113 In Pausanias’ account, which he described as the one retold by the people of Kolophon, Klaros was founded in ‘the remotest antiquity’ (ἐκ παλαιοτάτου): ἐχόντων δὲ ἔτι τὴν γῆν Καρῶν ἀφικέσθαι φασὶν ἐς αὐτὴν πρώτους τοῦ Ἑλληνικοῦ Κρῆτας, Ῥάκιον καὶ ὅσον εἵπετο ἄλλο τῷ Ῥακίῳ καὶ ὅσον ἔτι πλῆθος, ἔχον τὰ ἐπὶ θαλάσσῃ καὶ ναυσὶν ἰσχῦον· τῆς δὲ χώρας τὴν πολλὴν ἐνέμοντο ἔτι οἱ Κᾶρες.114 They assert that while the Carians still held the land, the first Greeks to arrive were Cretans under Rhakios, who was followed by a great crowd; they occupied the shore and were strong in ships, but the greater part of the country continued in the possession of the Carians.

Manto, the daughter of Tiresias, was subsequently sent from Delphi to found a colony and arrived at Klaros, where Rhakios took her for his wife; in certain versions, Klaros was said to have derived its name from her tears.115 Rhakios and Manto became parents to Mopsos, who proceeded to drive the Carians from the country altogether.116 The Ionian settlers swore an oath to the Greeks in Kolophon and lived together on equal terms.117 The civic traditions that have been preserved reveal the ways in which local mythologies interacted with broader regional traditions; how the poleis responded to the notion of mobility between Crete and southwestern Anatolia, and incorporated this aspect into their own civic histories. They did not always correspond precisely to one another, and were liable to changes in emphasis; thus Herodotus writes in the fifth century bc that the Kaunians claimed to have travelled originally from Crete, while the traditions that developed in the Hellenistic period appear to stress both the Cretan and Carian lineage of Kaunos. Similarly, while the migration of Rhakios to Klaros can be traced to a period before the Ionian foundation of the site, he does not seem to be related to Minoan mythology. However, such divergences should not detract from the wider pattern that awarded an important role to Crete in the early history of the communities of Caria, and that was largely marked by concord with the native Carians. 113 114 115 116

117

Schol. Apoll. Rhod. 1. 308; Epigoni Fr. 4 (West). Paus. 7. 3. 1. Schol. Apoll. Rhod. 1. 308; Epigoni Fr. 4 (West). Paus. 7. 3. 2: Μόψος δὲ ὁ Ῥακίου καὶ Μαντοῦς καὶ τὸ παράπαν τοὺς Κᾶρας ἐξέβαλεν ἐκ τῆς γῆς. Paus. 7. 3. 3: Ἴωνες δὲ ὅρκους ποιησάμενοι πρὸς τοὺς ἐν Κολοφῶνι Ἕλληνας συνεπολιτεύοντο, οὐδὲν ἔχοντες πλέον.

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The next chapter will consider how to interpret the prevalence of traditions surrounding a Cretan presence in southwestern Anatolia, predating the arrival of the ‘Greek’ colonies in the Dark Ages, and whether they could reflect real contacts in the Bronze Age. Here it is worth stressing that the relevance of the ‘Cretan link’ in southwestern Anatolia extended beyond Caria to the neighbouring islands. The broad outline of a tradition claiming contact with Crete permitted a great deal of local diversity, as communities appropriated the core theme of a Cretan link on a local level; while Minos and his family were prominent, they were not included in all civic traditions preserving a Cretan connection. The incorporation of these traditions into the civic landscape helped them to retain their currency; thus there was the tribe named after Rhadamanthys at Kaunos,118 while at Miletos the Cretan Kleochos, father of Areia and grandfather of Miletos, was said to have been buried in the Didymeion.119 Landmarks played an important role in preserving and transmitting aspects of polis history, whether as the site of a deity’s birth, in the graves of local heroes, or in particular toponyms. The Aiolian city of Magnesia-on-the-Maeander was located on the periphery of Caria; however, it was affected by these wider regional narratives, and one strand of its civic history maintained strong Cretan and Anatolian links that were commemorated in the local landscape.

The Krētinaion of Magnesia-on-the-Maeander Magnesia was located near the Maeander River on the north side of the valley; although, as Strabo writes, it is much nearer the Lethaios River.120 It is recorded that the Magnesian settlers travelled from Magnesia in Thessaly to settle in Anatolia.121 This aspect of their history is undisputed in the ancient sources, though two other elements of their history were also transmitted in antiquity. In one version, accredited to Aristotle (or Theophrastus), the Magnesians were ‘colonists (apoikoi) of the Delphians’,122 and this connection is reinforced by Strabo, who remarked that the Magnesians 118

119 120

121 122

See p. 69. Robert (1936: 164) observed that at Kolophon, the genos Prometheioi must be named after Promethos, son of Kodros. Cf. Habicht 1984: 43–46. Leandrios of Miletos FGrH 492 F10. Strab. 14. 1. 39. Thonemann (2011: 25, n. 62) suggests that the Manthios River, known from the Magnesian ‘origin myth’ (I. Magnesia 17, l. 48) and IG 14. 933, should be related to the Lethaios river; Ebert (1985: 61–63) suggested that Manthios was an old name for the Maeander. Konon FGrH 26 F1 29; Strab. 14. 1. 40; Pliny NH 5. 31. Athenaeus 4. 173e–f.

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The Krētinaion of Magnesia-on-the-Maeander

were ‘descendants of the Delphians who settled in the Didyman hills in Thessaly’.123 The other version of their foundation awarded a role to Crete, and Strabo separately recorded that the city was ‘a colony of the Magnesians of Thessaly and the Cretans’.124 Konon appears to have attempted to reconcile both strands: in his account, the Magnesians settled at Delphi on their return from Troy, from where they later crossed over to Crete. They subsequently sailed to Anatolia under force, in order to assist the newly founded cities of Ionia and Aeolis in their troubles, ‘and from there they arrived at the place where they are now and founded a city, naming it Magnesia after their ancient fatherland’.125 It was the Cretan version that gained prominence during the Hellenistic period, and at the end of the third century bc this account of their foundation myth was publicly inscribed in the agora at Magnesia (Appendix 1).126 The text is incomplete, with the beginning and end of the inscription on blocks that are now lost; however, it can be established that the text recounted the migration of the Magnesians to Anatolia. The reason for the departure of the Magnesians from their original home in Thessaly is missing; the preserved text begins with their arrival on Crete. The Magnesians are said to have founded a city between Gortyn and Phaistos, bringing their wives and children.127 They remained there for eighty years, at which point ‘the white ravens appeared’ and they sent to Delphi to ask about their return home.128 The responses of the oracle are purportedly quoted in the 123

124 125

126

127 128

Strab. 14. 1. 40: Δοκοῦσι δ’ εἷναι Μάγνητες Δελφῶν ἀπόγονοι, τῶν ἐποικησάντων τὰ Δίδυμα ὄρη ἐν Θετταλίᾳ. Strab. 14. 1. 11: Μαγνήτων ἀποικία τῶν ἐν Θετταλίᾳ καὶ Κρητῶν. Konon FGrH 26 F1 29: ἐκεῖθεν ἀφικνοῦνται ἐν ὧι νῦν εἰσι καὶ κτίζουσι πόλιν, ἀπὸ τῆς κατὰ τὸ ἀρχαῖον πατρίδος Μαγνησίαν αὐτὴν ἐπικαλέσαντες. I. Magnesia 17; Merkelbach and Stauber 1998: 02/01/01. Cf. Kern 1894. On the different elements of the Magnesian foundation myths, see Biagetti 2010. The historical context in which this version of the myth was inscribed will be explored fully in Chapter 5. I. Magnesia 17, ll. 6–10. I. Magnesia 17, ll. 11–13: ὡς δὲ περὶ ὀγδοιήκονθ’ ἔτη μετὰ τὴν ἄφιξιν ἐφά[νησαν οἱ λευκοὶ] | κόρακες, vacat εὐθέως ἅμα θυσίαις χαριστηρίοις vacat πέμ[πονται εἰς Δελ]|φοὺς ἐρωτήσοντες περὶ τῆς εἰς τὴν ἰδί̣[αν] ἐπανόδο[υ]. The restoration of ‘white’ ravens is confirmed in l. 17. The omen of ‘white ravens’ recalls the ancient proverbial phrase used to refer to something seemingly impossible coming to pass, which, according to the explanation of Demon, also found its origins in Thessaly (FGrH 327 F7. Cf. CPG Vol I: Zen. 3. 87): a group of Boiotians had settled in Thessaly, displacing the native Aiolian population, and resulting in conflict. The Boiotians consulted the oracle at Delphi about what they should do, and were told that ‘white ravens’ would appear before the Boiotians were deprived of their land. Thinking this highly unlikely, the Boiotians organised a celebration; during the festivities, some youths caught ravens and covered them in chalk, making them white. The sight of this omen caused panic among the Boiotians, and in the subsequent confusion the Aiolians were able to drive them from their land. Cf. Huxley 1981: 334–335. The omen of ravens also recalls the origin of the

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inscription, and the Magnesians were told that they must go to settle a land away from their fatherland.129 They then enquired as to where they were to be sent, and were told to seek a man ‘who stands before the doors of the temple’, who would lead them ‘to the land of Pamphylia, beyond high Mount Mykale’.130 According to the oracle, ‘there you will find the wealthy house of Mandrolytos with his many possessions on the banks of the much winding river’.131 The Magnesians consulted the oracle again as to the identity of this man, and were told that on leaving the temple they would encounter a ‘brave man, descended from the line of Glaukos’.132 As prophesied, they met the Lycian Leukippos and ‘renewed their kinship with him’.133 Leukippos then consulted the oracle himself, and was told to lead the arms-bearing people of Magnesia, his kinsmen, to the Pamphylian gulf, ‘to Mount Thorax by the precipitous Manthios River and high Mount Mykale, opposite Endymion’.134 According to the oracle, ‘there the Magnesians will inhabit the house of Mandrolytos and be happy and admired by the neighbouring cities’.135 Despite its poor state of preservation, it is clear that the inscribed ‘origin myth’ awarded a prominent role both to the Magnesian period of settlement on Crete and the figure of Leukippos as founding hero.136 In the inscription, Leukippos is identified as a descendant of Glaukos, the royal Lycian line known from Homer.137 A similar version is also recorded by Parthenius of Nicaea in his Story of Leukippos, wherein Leukippos was the son of Xanthios, a descendant of Bellerophon.138 Leukippos outshone all of his contemporaries in warlike valour, but the wrath of Aphrodite led him

129 130

131

132 133 134

135

136

137 138

oracle at Dodona, when two black doves (δύο πελειάδας μελαίνας) flew from Thebes in Egypt, one to Libya, and one to Dodona: Hdt. 2. 55. I. Magnesia 17, l. 20: ἀλλὰ χρεὼγ γαίης ἀπ[ὸ π]ατρίδος ἄλλοθι ν̣εῖσθα[ι·]. I. Magnesia 17, ll. 29–31: ὔμμι δὲ ἀνὴρ ἕστηκε πάρος νηοῖο θυράων,| [ὃ]ς γ’ ὑμῖν ἄρξαιτο καὶ ἡγήσαιτο κελεύθου | Π̣αμφ̣ύλων ἐπ’ ἄρουραν ὑπὲρ Μυκάλης ὄρος αἰπύ̣. I. Magnesia 17, ll. 32–33: ἔνθα δὲ Μανδρολύτου δόμος ὄλβιος ἐμ περιωπῆ[ι]| πολλοῖσιν κτεάνοισι πολυστρεφέος ποταμοῖο. I. Magnesia 17, l. 38: ἔστι τις ἐν τεμένει Γλαύκου γένος ἄκιμος ἀνήρ. I. Magnesia 17, ll. 42–43: καὶ τὴν̣ συγγένεια[ν]| πρὸς τὸν Λεύκιππον ἀνανεωσαμένων. I. Magnesia 17, ll. 46–49: στέλλ’ ἐπὶ Παμφύ[λ]ωγ κό[λ]πον, Λεύκιππε, φέροπλον| λαὸν ἄγωμ Μάγνητα ὁμοσύγγονον, ὡς ἂν ἵκειαι| Θ[ώρη]κος σκόπελον κ[α]τ̣ὰ Mανθίου αἰπὺ ῥέεθρον| καὶ [Μ]υκάλης ὄρος αἰπὺ ἀπεναντίον Ἐνδυμίων[ος.] I. Magnesia 17, ll. 50–51: ἔνθα δὲ Μ[α]νδρολύτου δόμον ὄλβιοι οἰκήσο[υσιν] | [Μ]άγνητε̣ς πολί̣ε̣[σσι] π̣ερικτιόνεσσιν ἀγητ[οί]. The figure of Leukippos as ktistēs has tentatively been identified with the riding horseman that appears on Magnesian coin types; BMC Greek (Ionia): 158–159, nos. 2–13; 160–161, nos. 19– 35 (350–190 bc ); 162–163, nos. 39–40 (after 190 bc ). Hom. Il. 6. 154–211. Parth. 5. 1.

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to fall in love with his sister, and eventually he gave in to his desires. When his father learnt of the affair, he confronted the pair, and in the confusion that followed killed his daughter and received his own deathblow from Leukippos. Having been banished from his native land, Leukippos then put himself at the head of a band of Thessalians who were on their way to Crete; driven from there by the neighbouring peoples, he travelled to the country near Ephesos, ‘where he founded the place called Krētinaion’.139 Parthenius’ account does not entirely accord with the version recorded in the inscribed ‘origin myth’. In Parthenius, Leukippos joined with the Thessalians before their arrival on Crete, and their advance to the island was repelled, whereas in the inscription the Magnesians had already been settled peacefully on Crete for eighty years when they encountered Leukippos. In the inscription, Leukippos is identified as a descendant of Glaukos,140 while in Parthenius, Leukippos as a descendant of Bellerophon appears to be distinct from the Lycians, and is described as having plundered their land.141 In another account, Leukippos was not connected with Lycia at all, although he remained a native of Anatolia: according to the Scholion on Apollonius Rhodius, the ‘Magnesia situated near Ephesos’ was founded by Leukippos τοῦ Καρὸς,142 which could either be interpreted as his ethnic, or as his patronymic, ‘son of Kar’.143 Parthenius was writing during the Augustan period, and was recording the version of the tale that was current. His account further raises the possibility that a place named after Crete existed in the vicinity of Magnesia and Ephesos at this time. This is reinforced by the expression ‘quicker than Mandres sold off Krētinai’ (ταχύτερον ὁ Μάνδρης Κρητίνας ἀπεπέρασε), which was used in antiquity to refer to a sudden act of foolishness, and was so coined after the Magnesians had lost a place called Krētinai to the Ephesians. In the tale, Mandres, the son of Mandrolytos, had sold away Krētinai during a game of dice.144 The figure of Mandrolytos had strong local links, and he was said to have ruled over the region before the arrival of the Magnesian settlers. According to Parthenius, he was the father of Leukophrys, who fell in love with Leukippos and betrayed the town to her 139

140 141 142 143 144

Parth. 5. 5: κἀκεῖθεν ἐξελαθεὶς ὑπὸ τῶν προσοίκων εἰς τὴν Ἐφεσίαν ἀφίκετο, ἔνθα χωρίον ᾤκησε τὸ Κρητιναῖον ἐπικληθέν. See this chapter, n. 132. Parth. 5. 1. Schol. Apoll. Rhod. 1. 584. Kern I. Magnesia viii, no. xxii; Jones 2002: 116. CPG Vol. I: [Plut.] Prov. I. 57: Ταχύτερον ὁ Μάνδρης Κρητίνας ἀπεπέρασε: Ἐφέσιοι Κρητίνας ἐκτήσαντο τὰς Μαγνήτων· ἀπεπέρασε δέ σφιν Μάνδρης ὀ Μανδρολύτου παρ’ οἴνον καὶ μέθην καὶ κύβην. See now Huxley 1981: 340–341.

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father’s enemies. The name of Leukophrys was connected with the primary deity of Magnesia, Artemis Leukophryene,145 and it is recorded that her tomb was located in the Artemision.146 In Pliny, Mandrolytia is recorded as an earlier name of the settlement.147 P. Thonemann has demonstrated that this and other Mandro- and -mandros names were likely connected to the river Maeander.148 The existence of a place Krētinai/Krētinaion in the vicinity of Magnesia can be proposed. It would find a parallel on Rhodes, where a place called Krētinia was also found in antiquity. According to Apollodorus, Katreos, the son of Minos, had enquired of an oracle about the manner of his death, and was informed that he would die at the hands of one of his children. When his son Althaemenes learned of the oracle, he feared that he would be his father’s murderer, and so set sail to Rhodes with his sister Apemosyne, where they founded a place called Krētinia;149 this tale persisted, and in Stephanus of Byzantium, Krētinia is recorded as a topos Rhodou.150 According to legend, Althaemenes climbed Mt. Atabyrion and ‘beheld the islands around’; catching sight of Crete, he called upon the god of his fathers and founded the cult of Zeus Atabyrios.151 The ‘Cretan link’ in the Magnesian foundation legend does not involve figures associated with the Minos myth, as was often the case in the local histories of the region; but the broader theme of a Cretan connection is again preserved. The presence of a toponym Krētinaion/Krētinai in Caria might indicate some form of settlement, sanctuary or structure in the region of a distinctly Cretan character.152 In this context, the appearance of

145

146

147 148

149 150 151 152

Xenophon refers to Leukophrys rather than Magnesia when naming the city (Hell. 3. 2. 19; 4. 8. 17). Cf. Wilamowitz 1895: 183–184. See pp. 163–164, for a discussion of the civic games in honour of Artemis Leukophryene. Clemens Alex. Protr. 3. 45. 3, citing Zenon of Myndos: it was considered improper to walk over the memorial to Leukophrys, which was located in the temple of Artemis at Magnesia (Ἐνταῦθα τῆς Λευκοφρύνης τὸ μνημεῖον οὐκ ἄξιον παρελθεῖν ἑπομένους Ζήνωνι τῷ Μυνδίῳ, ἣ ἐν τῷ ἱερῷ τῆς Ἀρτέμιδος ἐν Μαγνησίᾳ κεκήδευται). Wilamowitz (1895: 184) wrongly identified Leukophrys as an Amazon. Pliny NH 5. 31. Thonemann 2006, esp. 36ff. notes that Mandros- and -mandros names were especially frequent in southern Ionia (see the catalogue: 16–20); he demonstrates that the earlier identification of Mandros as a deity is likely incorrect. The idea that Mandros- and -mandros names derived from the name of an otherwise unattested deity Mandros had been proposed by J.-A. Letronne (1851); it was subsequently widely accepted. Cf. Rayet and Thomas 1877: 141–142, n. 3; Laumonier 1958: 524–526. Cf. Thonemann 2011: 27. Apollod. Bib. 3. 2. 1. Steph. Byz. s.v. Κρητινία. Apollod. Bib. 3. 2. 1. Endings in -ιον and -ειον often indicate some form of building; see Chapter 4, n. 130.

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the Kouretes on a civic coin type of Magnesia should be noted,153 as should the sacred functionaries of the same name at Ephesos; these mythological figures had strong connections with Crete, but also played a significant role in the cultic landscape of southwestern Anatolia. They provide another link between Caria and Crete that again reveals their shared participation in the networks of the southeast Aegean.

The Carian Kouretes The Kouretes were traditionally associated with the birth of Zeus on Crete; according to myth, they danced and banged their shields in order to conceal the sounds of Rhea’s labour from Kronos.154 However, their significance extended much further, and traditions surrounding the Kouretes can be detected in Akarnania and Aitolia,155 with further strong links in western Anatolia. A connection to Caria is explicitly claimed in Diodorus (first century bc), where a story about the migration of a group of five Kouretes from Crete to southwestern Anatolia is recorded: οὐ πολλῷ δ᾽ ὕστερον τῆς τούτου δυναστείας λέγεται πέντε Κουρῆτας ἐκ Κρήτης εἰς αὐτὴν περαιωθῆναι· τούτους δ᾽ ἀπογόνους γεγονέναι τῶν ὑποδεξαμένων Δία παρὰ τῆς μητρὸς Ῥέας καὶ θρεψάντων ἐν τοῖς κατὰ τὴν Κρήτην Ἰδαίοις ὄρεσι. στόλῳ δ᾽ ἀξιολόγῳ πλεύσαντας εἰς τὴν Χερρόνησον τοὺς μὲν κατοικοῦντας αὐτὴν Κᾶρας ἐκβαλεῖν, αὐτοὺς δὲ κατοικήσαντας τὴν μὲν χώραν εἰς πέντε μέρη διελεῖν, καὶ πόλιν ἕκαστον κτίσαι θέμενον ἀφ᾽ ἑαυτοῦ τὴν προσηγορίαν.156 Not long after Cherronesos had ruled, five Kouretes passed over to it from Crete, and these were descendants of those who had received Zeus from his mother Rhea and had nurtured him in the mountains of Ida in Crete. And sailing to the Cherronesos with a notable expedition they expelled the Carians who dwelt there, and settling down in the land themselves they divided it into five parts, each of them founding a city which he named after himself.

153 154 155

156

Rayet and Thomas 1877: 139, fig. 36. Strab. 10. 3. 11; Diod Sic. 5. 65. 4. Cf. the Palaikastro Hymn: IC 3. 2. 2 (SEG 28. 751). Strab. 10. 3. 1: ‘As for the Kouretes, some assign them to the Akarnanians, others to the Aitolians; and some assert that they originated in Crete, but others in Euboia.’ Ephorus FGrH 70 F122a (Strab. 10. 3. 2) wrote that ‘from the beginning, Kouretes were in possession of the whole country’ of Aitolia, but on the arrival of Aitolos, the son of Endymion from Elis, the Kouretes retreated to the present Akarnania. Archemachos of Euboia FGrH 424 F9 (Strab. 10. 3. 6) wrote that the Kouretes had their settlement at Chalkis. Cf. Strab. 10. 3. 8. Diod. Sic. 5. 60. 2–4. Cf. Bresson 2001: 148; Graf (2009: 343) suggests that the cities were Loryma, Hasara, Phoinix, Thyssanos and Tymnos.

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In a related tradition, recorded in the Byzantine Etymologicum Magnum, three Kouretes travelled to Caria after receiving an oracle, and fell asleep on the banks of a river near Tralles that subsequently was called Heudōnos (Εὕδωνος).157 The Kouretes were named Labrandos, Panamaros and Palaxos or Spalaxos. The cults of Zeus Labraundos and Zeus Panamaros were both prominent in Caria, and the third Kourete (S)Palaxos was also named after a cult of Zeus. Currently little is known about this cult: two dedications to Zeus Spalōxos/Spalōxios have been discovered in the vicinity of Aphrodisias, inscribed on small altars adorned with a double axe.158 An Imperial coin from Aphrodisias also depicts Zeus seated with a sceptre and Nike, with the inscription ZEUS SPALŌXOS.159 The origin of the tradition of the migration of the Kouretes from Crete to Caria is not known; though it was established by the end of the Hellenistic period, and at some point aetiologies developed for some of the larger cults in the region that sought their origins on Crete.160 On the Hellenistic temple at Lagina, one of the scenes on the east frieze represented the birth of Zeus, and three Kouretes are depicted dancing and banging their shields in the background.161 The frieze is often interpreted as a visual representation of a number of local mythological traditions;162 the Kouretes can tentatively be interpreted as the figures Labrandos, Panamaros and Spalaxos.163 The significance of the Kouretes stretched over a much wider region. At Ephesos, the Kouretes were associated with the birth of Apollo and Artemis at the grove of Ortygia; according to Strabo, it was named after the nurse Ortygia, who tended to Leto during her travails. The Kouretes stationed themselves above the grove on Mt. Solmissos, ‘and with the din of their arms frightened Hera out of her wits when she was jealously spying on Leto’.164 As noted above, there was an annual festival at the site, where ‘the

157 158

159

160 161 162 163

164

Et. Mag. s.v. Εὕδωνος. Kubitschek and Reichel 1893: 93, no. 2: γ’ Διὶ Σπαλώξῳ Ἄμμι(ο)ν εὐχήν; Robert and Robert Amyzon 166, n. 27 (SEG 33. 857): Διὶ Σπαλωξίῳ | [κ]ατὰ ἐπιταγὴ[ν] | [Φ]ιλόμουσος. Hill 1924: 12, no. 16: ΖΕΥΣΣΠΑΛΩΞΟΣ; the fourth letter from the right may be an alpha. Cf. Robert and Robert Amyzon 166, n. 27. Laumonier 1958: 349; Graf 2009: 342–343. Baumeister 2007: Tafel 19. See now van Bremen 2010a: 503, who suggests a connection with the Chrysaoric league. At Aphrodisias, the tradition of the Carian Kouretes and (S)Palaxos may have been used to substantiate the claim of kinship made in a dedication by the former Kretarchon Flavius Quintilus Eros Monaxius, c.ad 355–360; in ala2004 19, l. 8, the Aphrodisians are called συγγενεῖ Κρητῶν. Strab. 14. 1. 20: ὑπέρκειται δὲ τοῦ ἄλσους ὄπος ὁ Σολμισσός, ὅπου στάντας φασὶ τοὺς Κουρῆτας τῷ ψόφῳ τῶν ὅπλων ἐκπλῆξαι τὴν Ἥραν ζηλοτύπως ἐφεδρεύουσαν, καὶ λαθεῖν συμπράξαντας τὴν λοχείαν τῇ Λητοῖ.

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youths vie for honour, particularly in the splendour of their banquets’; a special college of Kouretes also held symposiums and performed certain mystic sacrifices.165 The Kouretes of Ephesos were sacred functionaries, related to the worship of Artemis, and the first epigraphic attestations of their existence date to the late fourth or early third centuries bc .166 Towards the end of the Hellenistic period their base was moved to the prytaneion, where their role appears to have become entwined with that of the prytanis; his duties and rituals were frequently performed in conjunction with the Kouretes.167 Lists of members of the college were inscribed from the time of Augustus and continued during the Imperial period. The Kouretes were called eusebeis (pious) and from the late first century ad philosebastoi (loyal to the emperor).168 The exact function of the college is not clear,169 but the initiation process for the Kouretes transformed their status for life, with former Kouretes designated as kekoureutekotes (those who have been Kouretes).170 The inner workings of the mystery cult of the Kouretes at Ephesos remain little known, but the college was of considerable significance, and was centred on a local myth that played an important role in civic ritual. Ephesos was one of a number of cities in southwestern Anatolia in which religious associations connected to the Kouretes are attested. A Hellenistic cult of Basileus and the Kouretes is known at Priene, where a statue base was discovered in situ; it was inscribed with a dedication by a man and a woman to their father, who was priest of the cult.171 This cult is also known from an inscription discovered at Volissos on Chios, which preserves a dedication made by a priestess of the Kouretes to Basileus and the Kouretes.172 It is possible that two such priesthoods existed, although as the second stone was discovered out of its original context, it could be a pierre errante that originated in western Anatolia.173 A cult group to Basileus finds a parallel at

165

166 167 168 169

170 171 172 173

Strab. 14. 1. 20: πανήγυρις δ’ ἐνταῦθα συντελεῖται κατ’ ἔτος, ἔθει δέ τινι οἱ νέοι φιλοκαλοῦσι, μάλιστα περὶ τὰς ἐνταῦθα εὐωχίας λαμπρυνόμενοι· τότε δὲ καὶ τῶν Κουρήτων ἀρχεῖον συνάγει συμπόσια, καί τινας μυστικὰς θυσίας ἐπιτελεῖ. See Graf 2003: 249; Bremmer 2008: 50–52. Graf 2003: 247–248. Knibbe 1981: B1–45; 54. Their roles included hierophant, ‘inspector of entrails’, a flute player, a trumpet player, a dancer, a basket bearer and a perfume bearer; see Graf 2003: 248. Knibbe 1981: B54, l. 7; Graf 2003: 252; 2010b: 305. I. Priene1 186 (I. Priene2 201), ll. 4–5: ἱερητεύοντα Βασιλεῖ |καὶ Κούρησιν. Mitsos 1947: 87–88, no. 13: Γόργιον Μελάντα ἡ ἱέρεια | τῶν Κουρήτων Βασιλεῖ | καὶ Κούρησιν. Graf 2010a: 74.

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Kaunos, where the god Basileus served as an important civic deity.174 In this context, F. Graf has drawn attention to ‘the sanctuary of the king’ outside Ephesos that is known from Strabo, and the late Imperial dedication ‘to the king who listens’ from Miletos;175 at Erythrai a cult of Zeus Basileus is also known.176 It is possible that the figure of Basileus was equated with Zeus, and the two cults are sometimes combined. However, it should be considered that Basileus cults reflect a Hellenic rendering of a particular Anatolian deity.177 At Kaunos, the cult statue of Basileus is thought to have been depicted as a baetyl, or sacred stone.178 The Kouretes apparently served as the attendants of Basileus at Priene, and received worship as minor deities. Further cults to the Kouretes are known from Mylasa and Olymos, where a priesthood of Zeus Kretagenes and the Kouretes is attested during the Hellenistic period.179 A priesthood of the Kouretes is also known from a number of inscriptions from Didyma180 and Termessos in Pisidia.181 It is not clear whether the Kouretes should be considered as an unequivocally Cretan element in the landscape. They fall within a wider category of young male consorts to a deity, whose myths and cults were entwined. Alongside the Kouretes should be listed the Korybantes, most closely associated with the worship of the Mother Goddess in Phrygia,182 and the Kabeiroi;183 the Idaean Daktyli and the Rhodian Telchines were also related.184 In antiquity the traditions surrounding the different groups were

174

175 176

177 178 179 180

181 182 183

184

I. Kaunos 35 C, l. 16, E, l. 4; 139 III c, l. 4; 142, l. 7. The worship of Basileus Kaunios was further imported to Xanthos: Metzger and Laroche 1979: ‘Le Texte Grec’, p. 32–33, ll. 7; 15–16; 22–23; SEG 27. 942. Graf 2010a: 75–76. See Strab. 14. 1. 26; Milet 1. 7. 285. I. Erythrai 201, l. 77: Διὸς Βασιλέως. A dedication from Miletos has been discovered to βασιλεύς ἄναξ (Milet 6. 3. 1304, l. 3), while a sanctuary of Anax is mentioned in an inscription from Magnesia (I. Magnesia 94, l. 9: ἐν τῶι ἱερῶι τοῦ Ἄνακτος). According to tradition, Anax was the first king of Miletos; although the figure of Anax as the prototypical king may also be a conflation of different traditions; cf. Paus. 7. 2. 5. Graf 2010a: 76. Cf. Laumonier 1958: 526. See Konuk 1998: nos. 71–116. On the historical context of this cult, see Chapter 6. I. Didyma 182, ll. 11–12; I. Didyma 277, l. 9; possibly Milet 1. 2. 24 (I. Didyma 388), ll. 3–4. A dedication on an altar to the Kouretes: I. Didyma 131. TAM 3. 1. 194, l. 1. See Strab. 10. 3. 19. According to Strabo (10. 3. 21), the Kabeiroi were most honoured in Imbros and Lemnos, and in cities of the Troad. Cf. Hemberg 1950: 132–211. The Daktyli were also associated with the worship of the Mother Goddess, although again there was conflation with the Kouretes: Strab. 10. 3. 22; Paus. 5. 7. 6. Telchines: Strab. 10. 3. 19; 14. 2. 7; Diod. Sic. 5. 55.

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conflated and confused,185 and Strabo recorded a number of conflicting tales: in one the Kouretes were Telchines from Rhodes, who had accompanied Rhea to Crete; in another they were Phrygians who had been sent to Crete.186 The assimilation between the Kouretes and the Korybantes, or Kyrbantes as they were earlier known in Anatolia,187 appears to have been particularly pronounced. A fragment of Demetrius of Scepsis records that ‘it is probable that the Kouretes and Korybantes were the same’, being those who had been accepted as young men ‘for the war-dance in connection with the holy rites of the Mother of the Gods’.188 The association of the Korybantes with the Mother Goddess was particularly prominent, but again there was conflation; as Strabo writes, the Greeks used the name Kouretes for the ministers of the goddess, separate from the Cretan Kouretes, though they were also called Korybantes.189 Within the cultic landscape of Anatolia, the Korybantes also featured prominently, most notably at Erythrai, where a priest and priestess of the Korybantes/Kyrbantes are attested from the end of the fourth century bc .190 A priesthood of the Kyrbantes is also known on Kos in the third century bc 191 and on Rhodes in the late Hellenistic period.192 In certain cases, an affiliation between the Kouretes and Korybantes can be perceived: in one inscription from Didyma, dated c.ad 260, a certain Heraidos is named as priestess of the Korybantes,193 but earlier in the century (c. ad 230)  the

185

186 187

188

189 190

191 192 193

See Strab. 10. 3. 7: ‘But the variation in these accounts is so small that, whereas some represent the Korybantes, the Kabeiroi, the Idaean Daktyli and the Telchines as identical with the Kouretes, others represent them as all kinsmen of one another and differentiate only certain small matters in which they differ in respect to one another; but, roughly speaking and in general, they represent them, one and all, as a kind of inspired people and as subject to Bacchic frenzy, and, in the guise of ministers, as inspiring terror at the celebration of the sacred rites by means of war-dances’ (τοσαύτη δ᾽ ἐστὶν ἐν τοῖς λόγοις τούτοις ποικιλία, τῶν μὲν τοὺς αὐτοὺς τοῖς Κουρῆσι τοὺς Κορύβαντας καὶ Καβείρους καὶ Ἰδαίους δακτύλους καὶ Τελχῖνας ἀποφαινόντων, τῶν δὲ συγγενεῖς ἀλλήλων καὶ μικράς τινας αὐτῶν πρὸς ἀλλήλους διαφορὰς διαστελλομένων, ὡς δὲ τύπῳ εἰπεῖν καὶ κατὰ τὸ πλέον, ἅπαντας ἐνθουσιαστικούς τινας καὶ βακχικοὺς καὶ ἐνοπλίῳ κινήσει). Strab. 10. 3. 19. In the fourth century BC, a cult of the Kyrbantes is known from Erythrai: I. Erythrai 206, l. 2. Cf. Graf 2009: 341; 2010b. Strab. 10. 3. 21: πιθανὸν δέ φησιν ὁ Σκήψιος, Κουρῆτας μὲν καὶ Κορύβαντας εἶναι τοὺς αὐτούς, οἳ περὶ τὰς τῆς μητρὸς τῶν θεῶν ἁγιστείας πρὸς ἐνόπλιον ὄρχησιν ἠίθεοι καὶ κόροι τυγχάνουσι παρειλήμμενοι. Strab. 10. 3. 12. See I. Erythrai 201, l. 62; IG 12. 6. 1197. Graf (2010b: 304) notes that there seems to have been a differentiation between polis cult and private cult. Iscr. di Cos 177, l. 3; SEG 55. 925. PP 4 1949: 73, l. 6. See also IG 12. 1. 8, l. 6; Tit. Cam. 90, l. 34. I. Didyma 243, ll. 11–12.

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same woman is found as priestess of the Kouretes.194 Separate cultic associations for the Kouretes and Korybantes are attested in Miletos in the early Hellenistic period, and it is possible in this instance that two different offices are referenced195; however, the two associations may have been conflated here.196 The Kouretes or the Korybantes were also awarded a role in the civic mythologies of Halikarnassos, where, as at Ephesos, the tradition focused on the birth of a deity. The Hellenistic Salmakis inscription recounted the various episodes of civic history that bestowed honour on its people.197 One such chapter related the protection of the infant Zeus in the vicinity: 5

10

Γηγενέων μεγάλαυχον ἐτέκνωσε στάχυν ἀνδρ[ῶν Ἁκραίου πάρεδρον κυδαλίμοιο Διός, οἱ πρῶτοι κοίλην ὑπὸ δειράδα θέντο νεογνὸν παῖδα Ῥέης κρύφιον Ζῆν’ ἀτιταλλόμενοι Γαίης ἀμφ’ ἀδύτοισιν, ὅτε Κρόνος ἀγκυλομήτης οὐκ ἔφθη λαιμῶι θέσθαι ὑποβρύχιον.

She brought forth an illustrious crop of earth-born men, to lodge beside mighty Zeus Akraios, who first in secret placed the new-born child of Rhea, Zeus, beneath the hollow ridge, caring for him, in the shrine of Gaia, when Kronos of the crooked counsels had failed to get him into the depths beneath his throat in time.198

Due to their role in the rearing of the infant Zeus, the ‘earth-born’ (gēgeneis) men could be identified with the Kouretes.199 The idea is attractive, and Strabo referred to authors who also called the Kouretes ‘earth-born’.200 However, as F.  Graf has noted, the same adjective is used by Nonnus to describe the Korybantes.201 As the Salmakis text continues, these sons of Gaia were established as his priests, ‘who care for his honoured house’.202

194 195

196

197

198 199 200 201 202

I. Didyma 182, ll. 9–12. The inscribed altar of the Kouretes (I. Didyma 131) has been dated to the third century bc , while there is a reference to the Kyrbantes in a Hellenistic treasury list (Milet 6. 3. 1359, l. 3); Graf 2009: 347, n. 67. Graf 2009: 347. A potential priesthood of both the Kouretes and Korybantes is known from an Imperial inscription of Bargylia, though it is fragmentary: I. Iasos 616, l. 22. Ed. pr. Isager 1998; see also Lloyd-Jones 1999; Merkelbach and Stauber 1998: 01/12/02; SEG 48. 1330; Isager 2004. Translation Lloyd-Jones 1999. Isager 1998: 10; Lloyd-Jones 1999: 4–5; Gagné 2006: 8–12. Strab. 10. 3. 19. Nonn. Dionys. 14. 25; Graf 2009: 347. Isager 1998: ll. 11–12: Ζεὺς δὲ πατὴρ Γῆς υἷας ἀγακλέας ὀργειῶνας | θῆκεν, οἳ ἀρρήτων πρόσπολοί εἰσι δόμων.

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H. Lloyd-Jones has suggested that the reference to an ‘assistant’ (paredros) of Zeus Akraios should be taken literally, and that there was a sanctuary, or a section of a sanctuary, in Halikarnassos of which these ‘earth-born men’ were guardians.203 As yet, there are no attestations of a cult or priesthood of the Kouretes in the city, though a priestess of the Korybantes is known from one inscription.204 For the time being, the identity of these ‘earth-born men’ remains unknown, but their identification as either Kouretes or Korybantes seems assured.205 It follows from this that the appearance of the Kouretes in Caria should not automatically be connected with Crete. The widespread occurrence of the Kouretes in Caria seems to reflect the pervasive Anatolian and Hellenic tradition for young male acolytes to a deity. In Anatolia the Korybantes were primarily involved in the worship of the Mother Goddess, though there was frequent assimilation with the Kouretes and overlap in their associated mythologies, and the similarity between these various figures had long been noted in antiquity.206 In the fifth century bc , Euripides was aware of them, writing of the ‘secret chamber’ of the Kouretes on Crete in the same passage as the cave of the ‘thrice-helmed Korybantes’ and the ‘sweet voiced breath’ of Phrygian pipes.207 It is not possible or beneficial to seek a quintessentially ‘Cretan’ or ‘Anatolian’ origin for the figures of the Kouretes in Caria. Rather, they fit into a much broader pattern of ritual that finds parallels in both the Hellenic and the Anatolian spheres; as young male attendants to a deity, they may have developed out of associated religious rituals without being directly related. That does not mean that affiliations were not later established, and a connection between the Kouretes in Caria and in Crete was sought at least from the Hellenistic period onwards; the cult of a ‘Cretanborn’ Zeus and the Kouretes from the region of Mylasa claimed a clear association, as did the traditions relating the arrival of the Kouretes in Caria from Crete. While such traditions may have been created comparatively late, they were drawing on links between Crete and Caria that had been established earlier.208

203 204 205 206

207 208

Lloyd-Jones 1999: 4. Haussollier 1880: 399, no. 8, l. 3. Graf 2009: 341–347. As noted above, Strabo collected a number of different traditions, and writes that the frenzied dances and orgiastic rituals were shared by Greeks and barbarians alike; Strab. 10. 3. 9. Eur. Bacch. 120–129. Cf. Strab. 10. 3. 14. See Graf 2009: 343–344.

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Reading Mythological Traditions A prominent theme to emerge in this chapter has been the changing reception of mythological traditions linking Caria with Crete, especially during the Hellenistic period. The ongoing renewal of the affiliation indicates that it remained important to the historical identity of the region. The question of how to most profitably interpret this disparate body of ancient mythological and historical traditions is complex, and it would be impractical to advocate a uniform approach. By one standard, the inherent flexibility of the transmitted traditions, and the lack of a clear distinction between ‘history’ and ‘myth’, makes them an unreliable witness: they certainly cannot be used to reconstruct a ‘true’ account of the past. But their accuracy as a record of historical events is not the only measure by which they can be judged. Questions of transmission can shed light on how individuals and/ or communities recollected their history, with different aspects emphasised or elaborated in different periods. The processes by which groups recalled their past were liable to shifts in different periods, and in response to different stimuli, with numerous traditions recorded concurrently in civic narratives. Examining how different strands of mythology were utilised in particular social and historical contexts can reveal much about the role that the past played in the ongoing formation of identities. It is not a topic limited to the study of antiquity:  recourse to the past as a means of validating actions, or asserting a sense of commonality, is as much a feature of the modern world as it was the ancient, and it should not be presumed that the traditions related are of greater reliability or accuracy in more recent times. Narratives continue to be contested by communities, as the historic past persists in playing an active role in modern politics and in the conduct of interstate relations.209 A sense of continuity between the past and the present, whether geographically, culturally or ethnically demarcated, has been closely linked with nationalistic tendencies, with references to the historic past frequently formulated to advance a particular viewpoint, or in other cases contrived.210 E. Hobsbawm’s notion of ‘invented traditions’ stresses the largely factitious nature of references to the past as employed by communities to establish their antiquity, and the ritual manifestations associated with them.211 209 210 211

Cf. Ricouer 2004: 448–452. See Hobsbawm 1983: 13–14. Hobsbawm 1983: 12.

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However, acknowledgement of the artificiality of particular articulations of communal identities, nationalistic or otherwise, does not undermine their force, or popular belief in their value or, in some cases, validity.212 H.-J. Gehrke has proposed the term ‘intentional history’ (intentionale Geschichte) to describe this process of negotiation, acknowledging the agency of a community in moulding the way it interprets itself, without necessarily characterising it as a conscious process.213 The transmission of historical narratives was continually evolving; but at the same time, the processes by which communities sought to access the historic past were confined by certain shared norms and constraints.214 Socially constructed versions of the past may have been selective, but the mechanisms involved in their construction were not necessarily manipulated, nor was the potential for innovation endless. As L. Coser writes, conceptions of the past are always a compound of persistence and change: while there is scope for reinterpretation, there are certain constraints to social memory that do not permit free rein for invention.215 In antiquity, the multifarious strands of the myths relating the affairs of the gods and heroes provided such a framework; it was within this structure that communities sought to accommodate their local accounts of the past.216 *

*

*

The natural tendency in social memory is to simplify and conventionalise.217 The processes of preservation were dictated by the relevance of myths, with aspects suppressed or substituted in line with a certain world view. Modern scholarship tends to stress this social function of ancient mythological and historical traditions, considering what different elements contributed to a sense of commonality and the ongoing formation of identities. However, it is only one way to approach our evidence; as Connerton writes, the scholarly interest in the negotiation of traditions as ‘intentional responses’ to particular social and political contexts cannot be extended indefinitely.218 In this study I will also address the question of origins; considering the relationship between the archaeological evidence for Bronze Age contacts and later mythologies. The mechanisms of transmission in the ancient world are largely obscure, filtered across the centuries and 212 213 214 215 216 217 218

Fentress and Wickham 1992: 26. Gehrke 2001: 286–287. Appadurai 1981: 203. Coser 1983: 26. Cf. Finkelberg 2005: 14. Cf. Ma 2003: 20–21; Gehrke 2011: 47. Fentress and Wickham 1992: 32, 58–59. Connerton 1989: 103.

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preserved in a diffuse body of inconsistent and conflicting traditions; yet claimed continuities with the historic past should not obscure the possibility of real continuities. The ability of a community to make reference to the past presupposes that an awareness of it had not disappeared entirely;219 when approaching mythological and historical traditions, it is important to consider the mechanisms involved in their perpetuation over centuries. The next chapter will focus on this question, exploring the origins of the Cretan link in Caria through the case study of Miletos.

219

Assmann 2011: 18.

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3

The Case of Miletos: Archaeology and Mythology

The transmitted version of Milesian history recognised separate phases of settlement. Pausanias records that in its earliest history the city was called Anaktoria, ruled by the indigenous king Anax and his son Asterios.1 There followed the Cretan stage, with the figure of the youthful Miletos imagined as escaping from Crete in order to avoid the lustful attention of Minos, or to evade his envy, before travelling to Anatolia and founding the eponymous city on the coast; another version recorded that Sarpedon had founded the city, and named it after the Cretan polis of Miletos.2 In these accounts, the Cretans were consistently described as living in peaceful coexistence with the local population; as Pausanias writes, ‘the Carians, the former inhabitants of the land, united with the Cretans’.3 The subsequent phase focused on the later arrival of the Ionians along the coast of Anatolia, which witnessed the expulsion of the native population,4 or the murder of local men and the marriage of the Ionian settlers to Carian women.5 Within the chronology of Miletos, the Ionian settlers are envisaged as arriving in Asia Minor four generations after the fall of Troy, and two after the return of the Heraklaidai.6 They were led by Neileus,7 the son of Kodros of Athens,8 and

1

2 3

4

5 6

7 8

Paus. 7. 2. 5. This tradition was commemorated in the local landscape, with a small island opposite the city named after Asterios: it was said to be where the king was buried. See above, pp. 66–67. For example Paus. 7. 2. 5: οἱ δὲ Κᾶρες οἱ πρότερον νεμόμενοι τὴν χώραν σύνοικοι τοῖς Κρησὶν ἐγένοντο. Pherekydes, FGrH 3 F155; Mimnermus of Kolophon, Nanno Fr. 9 (Gerber); Strab. 14. 1. 4; Aelian VH 8.5. Hdt. 1. 146; Paus. 7. 2. 6; see above, pp. 38–40. Herda 2009: 28. According to the Marmor Parium (FGrH 239 A 27), Neileus’ foundation of Miletos occurred at a date equivalent to 1086/5 or 1076/5 bc (with inclusive reckoning); it dates the establishment of the twelve Ionian cities to the same year. A variant spelling is Nēleus: Ael. VH 8. 5. The relationship of this Neileus to the Neleus of Pylos known from Homer as the father of Nestor (Il. 11. 682ff.) is sometimes alluded to by tracing his heritage to Pylos: Strab. 14. 1. 3. Pausanias (7. 2. 1–4) described Neileus and his brother Medon as the oldest of the sons of Kodros, who, along with the other sons, set out to found a colony (ἐς ἀποικίαν ἀπεστάλησαν); they were appointed as leaders of the Ionians (Ἴωσιν ἄρχοντες), ‘although they were not related to them (οὐδέν σφισι γένους τοῦ Ἴωνος μετόν), but were, through Kodros and Melanthus, Messenians of Pylos, and, on their mother’s side, Athenians’. Pherekydes FGrH 3 F 155 (Strab.

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the narrative strands associated with him contributed to the construction of Miletos’ Ionian identity.9 Miletos has received attention from a number of scholars seeking to readdress the later mythological traditions in light of our increased knowledge about the Bronze Age settlement at the site. Notably, C. SourvinouInwood has advanced an approach that integrates archaeological evidence and later historical traditions; she sought to establish links between the materially attested Minoan contacts along the coast of Anatolia and the mytheme focused on Miletos travelling from Crete and settling at the site with a group of Cretans.10 In her book Hylas, the Nymphs, Dionysos and Others, Sourvinou-Inwood argued that at its core the tradition was a ‘memory’ of past events. Central to her work was the notion that an awareness of regional history, and of different historical phases, could be transmitted in antiquity. Events in the distant past of a community could be recalled centuries after, albeit not accurately: they were reflected, or refracted, in the civic histories and mythologies that have been transmitted to us.11 A. Herda has also sought to explore the correspondence between the archaeological evidence at Miletos and the main foundation periods identified in our literary sources.12 He focuses on the traditions surrounding the Ionian migration, and points to the material evidence from the Mycenaean period as a parallel to the literary traditions of a population influx.13 As both the mythological traditions and the archaeology of the city are comparatively well known, Miletos offers a good opportunity to explore the complexities involved in seeking to establish a link between aspects of later mythological traditions and historical events, and to test whether we can speak about historical ‘memory’ or ‘refractions’ in more specific terms.

The Processes of Transmission and the Question of Origins It is worth reiterating that mythological traditions cannot be treated as historical sources, or as accurate accounts of historical events; they reflect the

9

10 11 12 13

14. 1. 3) claimed that Androklos, the legitimate son of Kodros, was the leader of the Ionian expedition, and founded Ephesos. Hdt. 9. 97; Ael. VH 8. 5. According to Pausanias (7. 2. 6), the grave of Neileus was located just outside the city, on the road to Didyma; cf. Herda 1998: 3–22. Sourvinou-Inwood 2005: 268–309. Sourvinou-Inwood 2005: esp. 279ff. Herda 2009. Cf. Niemeier 2009b. Herda 2009: 74; Herda also includes evidence from the Protogeometric period (first half of the tenth century bc ), when Attic or Euboian-Thessalian styles can be identified in local pottery production.

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aspects of history that were deemed of continuing relevance, combining generations of lore with later accretions, and frequently awarding central roles to deities and figures of myth. Equally, it would be dangerous to consider such traditions solely as a product of the contexts in which they are communicated. The source material recording such mythologies from the ancient world is far from comprehensive; as seen in the previous chapter, the myths relating a link between Caria and Crete derive from sources covering over a millennium, and offer only a partial glimpse of what must have been a much more extensive body of traditions. Based on this incomplete insight, it would be wrong to speak of such a thing as an ‘original’ version.14 Herodotus may offer one of our earlier written accounts for a number of myths, but it should not be presumed that these are ‘correct’ or more valid than those recorded later, or that these traditions did not have a prehistory before this time. During the Persian Wars, for instance, Herodotus records that the Cretans refused to join the Sicilian campaign because the Greeks had not helped them to avenge the death of Minos.15 The weight of this argumentation in dictating the Cretan decision is not clear; however, this episode does reveal the significance of the Minoan myth to the Cretans in the early fifth century bc , as well as the incorporation of southern Italy into the mythological corpus surrounding the Cretan king by this time.16 The diplomatic context in which the myth is related offers an insight into the social significance of the past in legitimating current affairs, but it does not reveal the longevity of this myth for the peoples concerned, or the circumstances surrounding its origin.17 It would be erroneous to assume that the myth of Minos in Sicily did not have a prehistory before it was recorded by Herodotus in the fifth century bc . The processes involved in the transmission of myth remain largely opaque; however, that should not pre-empt consideration of the mechanisms involved in the perpetuation of historical traditions, particularly in pre-literate societies. Central to this issue is the question of whether mythologies can ever reflect a ‘memory’ of real events. It is a contentious point, and J. Fentress and C. Wickham rightly warn against the perils of approaching historical mythologies with the intention of revealing a residuum of

14 15 16

17

See Hall 2008: 394. Hdt. 7. 169–171. The Minos connection remained important to a number of the communities of Sicily and southern Italy. According to Diodorus (4. 79. 2–5), during his expedition to Sicily, Minos had landed near Akragas, where he was killed by Kokalos; his comrades built a tomb for his remains on the island, and later a portion of them settled in the city of Minoa. See Perlman 2000.

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historical information; even if we can identify a kernel that may reflect historical events, it does not necessarily follow that the subsequent reconstruction is correct.18 Caution should certainly be exercised when examining mythologies from a historical perspective; yet addressing such questions does not equate to endorsing an approach to mythologies that seeks to establish the ‘true’ course of events.19 In the ancient world, the oral transmission of traditions was a crucial element in their perpetuation. The versions that we possess are the final link in a ‘chain of transmission’ at many removes from any ‘original’ trigger.20 It may not be possible to access this earlier stage directly, but the possibility arises that the version of a myth as transmitted retains certain continuities. Such a view is not incompatible with an appreciation of the schematised nature of cultural memory. As J. Vansina writes, ‘selectivity implies discarding or keeping certain information one has about the past’, yet ‘the information retained still comes from the past’.21 Social memory does not function entirely free from constraints. Communities construct a particular self-image within an established frame of reference and with a claim of continuity. This is especially the case for modern societies, where the wealth of written documentation limits the opportunities for substantial deviation from the chronicled past: the construction of collective memory can selectively invoke the past in a way that reflects the contemporary preoccupations of the society, but the exploitation cannot be arbitrary.22 In the ancient world, such records were not widely available; while the advent of literacy led to certain traditions being committed to writing, an awareness of the past continued to be transmitted in the oral and ritual traditions of communities. But there remained a restrictive framework in which traditions were developed, and within the historical consciousness of the ancient world a chronology was established that was widely acknowledged and adopted; thus the age of Minos was placed in the distant, mythological past.23 The heroic age of the Trojan War was considered later, but it was thought to predate the Ionian and Dorian migrations.24 One version 18 19 20 21 22 23

24

Fentress and Wickham 1992: 81. Cf. Finkelberg 2005: 14. Vansina 1985: 29. Cf. Fentress and Wickham 1992: 58. Vansina 1985: 191. Schwartz 1982: 396; Coser 1983: 34. This is implicit in Herodotus (3. 122. 2), who writes that Polykrates was the first ‘of such as may be called the human race’ (τῆς δὲ ἀνθρωπηίης λεγομένης γενεῆς Πολυκράτης πρῶτος) to have ruled the sea, leaving out Minos as belonging to an earlier time; see Calame 2003: 22. Cf. Marmor Parium FGrH 239 A11. Marmor Parium FGrH 239 A 23–24, 27. Cf. Hdt. 7. 171.

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of this universal chronology was established in the Marmor Parium, inscribed during the third century bc on the island of Paros. It began with the accession of King Kekrops to the Athenian throne (1581 bc ), and covered events including the Flood of Deukalion (1528/7 bc ) and the fall of Troy (1209/8 bc ). The timeline continued down to 264/3 bc , and the archonship of Diognetos in Athens, thus linking the past with the present;25 as C. Calame writes, this formulation of a ‘continual temporal succession’ made ‘the heroes of legend the real founders of the present’.26 This linear perception of time, and the conception of anteriority and degrees of remoteness, earlier and later, was vital to historical consciousness and memory in antiquity.27 The versions of the past that were transmitted in the ancient world thus offered a schematised account of Aegean history.28 The communities of Anatolia seem to have assumed this broader historical framework when attempting to relate their own histories, at least by the Hellenistic period, though this was not to the detriment of localism. It is not necessary to accept every detail of these narratives in order to postulate a connection with events in the distant past; that is, to suggest that certain mythologies might retain a residuum of historical events and of the movements of people as they occurred in the remote periods of the Bronze Age and Dark Ages. The central issue is how to approach the study of the archaeological data in tandem with the literary sources, and whether it is possible to establish connections between the two. It is a topic that has long occupied archaeologists, in particular in the early stages of the twentieth century, when material evidence was sought to support the narratives preserved in mythological and/or historical traditions. Such an approach can quickly result in distortion, and it is now considered outdated to draw direct links between the archaeological record and particular episodes of myth. However, it remains vital to engage with the mechanisms of transmission in the ancient world, and consider the possibility that traditions as they have been preserved do retain certain recollections that reflect real historical events; as M. Finkelberg remarks, ‘myth is both changeable and stable at one and same time, and these two aspects of it should be taken not as mutually exclusive’.29 It is now widely accepted, for instance, that the narratives surrounding the Dorian and Ionian migrations to western Anatolia subsume a more diffuse and long-term period 25 26 27 28 29

FGrH 239 Preface. Calame 2003: 20. Arist. Mem. 450a 21–22. Cf. Ricouer 2004: 15ff. See Fentress and Wickham 1992: 32. Finkelberg 2005: 12.

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of migration, perhaps starting during the Mycenaean period, into a more unified and coherent myth.30 Again, the obscurity of the mechanisms involved in the communication of oral traditions makes such discussion imprecise, and there remains much that we cannot know. To take an example, the numerous traditions related about Alexander/Iskander across much of the Middle East seem to have an independent life from those transmitted in the ancient Greek sources.31 Alexander is variously awarded the role of conqueror, builder, or prophet,32 with a variety of ancient structures claimed as remnants of his campaign.33 A number of different communities were even said to have housed the tomb of Alexander, despite the account of the transfer of his body from Babylon to Egypt, and his eventual burial at Alexandria.34 The emirs of the Badakhshan region of northeastern Afghanistan long claimed direct descent from Alexander, and such claims continue today in parts of Afghanistan and Uzbekistan.35 In Pakistan, the Kalash people believe that they are descended from the Greek soldiers who travelled with Alexander and settled in the region; similar tales are told among the Burusho and Pathan populations.36 The historicity of such claims is of less concern than the fact that traditions concerning the campaign of Alexander have been transmitted and elaborated across the centuries, in various and diverse forms.37 They have been incorporated into local oral traditions and the physical landscape of the communities concerned. Again, it is important to be clear in our remit when attempting to gauge the relationship of the material record to later historical traditions, and we should not presume that all mythologies can be approached in the same way. The limitations of the available evidence, as well as the various factors affecting the functional nature of social memory, mean that it is unwise to adopt a uniform approach. In the same way that certain aspects of the past could be ‘remembered’ and transmitted over time, others could be ‘forgotten’, and various aspects of the past could be elided or merged with other historical mythologies.38 Any recollection of the Hittite past, for instance, 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37

38

Lemos 2007: 724–725; Crielaard 2009; Herda 2009. Vansina 1985: 192. De Polignac 1982; Coloru 2013: 393. Coloru 2013: 394ff. Coloru 2013: 400. Coloru 2013: 403. Coloru 2013: 403–404. See Firasat et al. 2007: analysis of Y-chromosomal evidence from samples of the Kalash, Burusho and Pathan populations excluded a large Greek contribution to any Pakistani population; however, it offered support for the potential Greek/Macedonian origins for a small proportion of Pathans. See Assmann 2011: 23. See also Ricouer 2004: 412ff.

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appears to disappear from local conceptions of history, with narratives focusing on regional Anatolian identities and their associated myths. While monuments dating to the age of the Hittite kingdom continued to be visible in the landscape, ancient interaction with them does not seem to preserve the memory of a central Anatolian Empire. Most famously, Herodotus makes reference to the Late Bronze Age relief at Karabel, located between Ephesos and Sardis; it is now recognised as a representation of Tarkasnawa, king of the Hittite vassal kingdom Mira,39 but Herodotus identifies the figure as the Egyptian king Sesostris. As proof, Herodotus notes the form of the hieroglyphic characters, which he characterises as Egyptian. He also records another viewpoint, and writes that other people who have seen the relief identify it as Memnon, who according to myth was an ally of Troy and king of Ethiopia.40 In a number of sources, this gap in the early history of Anatolia is accommodated by incorporating the narratives of the Assyrian Empire. This tradition can be dated back as early as the fifth century bc , when Ctesias of Knidos was said to have begun his History of the Persians with the tale of the archetypal Assyrian king and queen, Ninos and Semiramis.41 The fragments that have been preserved in Diodorus relate the Assyrian conquest of much of Anatolia by Ninos.42 While Assyrian contacts with Anatolia are attested, notably in Cilicia and the trading colony at Kültepe in the Kayseri province, their empire never extended to include Anatolia.43 The tradition of Assyrian rule seems to have arisen from what was understood in the Greek world about the early empires of the Near East and the ‘Otherness’ of the peoples of Anatolia. It is notable that this aspect of regional history appears to have been accepted by the communities of western Anatolia themselves, with a number of foundation traditions featuring Ninos and Semiramis. The Assyrian couple are portrayed on the Imperial basilica reliefs at Aphrodisias, where they appear alongside other founding figures, including Pegasos and Bellerophon.44 In the city of Anineta, located to the north of the Maeander valley, Ninos is named as founder on a Roman coin 39 40 41 42

43 44

Hawkins 1998. See pp. 113–114. Hdt. 2. 106. See Rojas and Sergueenkova 2014: 154–155. See Dalley 2005. Diod. Sic. 2. 2. 3. Plato, Laws 3. 685c, writes that Troy had been part of the Assyrian empire: ‘the former dwellers around Ilium were emboldened to embark on the Trojan War through reliance on the Assyrian power as it had been in the reign of Ninos’ (οἱ περὶ τὸ Ἴλιον οἰκοῦντες τότε, πιστεύοντες τῇ τῶν Ἀσσυρίων δυνάμει τῇ περὶ Νῖνον γενομένῃ, θρασυνόμενοι τὸν πόλεμον ἤγειραν τὸν ἐπὶ Τροίαν). See Barjamovic 2011; Jasink and Bombardieri 2013. See Chapter 1, n. 147.

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type,45 while at Thyateira, Semiramis is recorded as an early name of the city;46 Strabo further records that a number of other cities were founded on the ‘mounds of Semiramis’.47 The supposedly Assyrian heritage of Anatolia was embraced as a way to establish both the depth of their history and appropriate the alterity that frequently characterised the region in the Greek sources.48 The question of preservation in the process of transmission is complex, and a ‘one size fits all’ approach cannot be adopted in the study of ancient mythologies. However, the issue of continuity, and the connection of mythological traditions with ‘real’ historical events, is important, and can be pursued profitably. In the case of Caria and Crete, these issues will be explored through the case study of Miletos. During the Bronze Age, Miletos was a focal point of commerce and trade. Its coastal location at the mouth of the Maeander meant that it was well situated for interaction with central Anatolia, as well as of strategic value in the networks of the Aegean and Mediterranean; during the Bronze Age, the city was a focal point of commerce and trade.49 In the first instance, the archaeological evidence for a ‘Minoan’ and ‘Mycenaean’ influence at Miletos will be examined; the survey will then be extended to discuss what is known of Bronze Age Caria more broadly.

Late Bronze Age Miletos The term ‘Minoan’ is used to refer to the material culture which developed on the island of Crete during the first half of the third millennium bc , and flourished in the wider Aegean until the mid-second millennium bc . From the late fifteenth century bc , Minoan cultural dominance receded and what is identified as the ‘Mycenaean’ culture gradually extended across the Aegean to include the island of Crete and the coastal areas of Anatolia.50 45

46

47 48

49 50

A coin type from the city, dated to the Imperial period, names Ninos as κτίστης; it depicts the bust of a young man on the obverse, with ΚΤΙ inscribed to the left, ΝΙΝΟΣ to the right; Robert 1980: 332. For the location of Anineta, see Thonemann and Ertuğrul 2005: 76, n. 1. Stephanus of Byzantium, s.v. Θυάτειρα, writes that the city had previously been called Pelopia and Semiramis. A brief inscription from the city records the name ΣΕΜΙΡΑΜΙΣ alongside ΠΕΛΩΠΙΑ and ΘΥΑΤΕΙΡΑ; see Hicks 1889: 136; TAM 5. 2. 1177. Tyana in Cappadocia: Strab. 12. 2. 7; Zela in Paphlagonia: Strab. 12. 3. 37. Cf. Alcock 2001: 326, on the transmutations of memory within the societies incorporated in the Roman Empire. Greaves 2002: 10–13. There is debate about the nature of Mycenaean involvement in western Asia Minor, in particular its relation to the Ahhiyawa people who are attested in Hittite sources during the Late Bronze Age; this will be discussed below. See Niemeier 1998: 19–25 for a summary.

9

Late Bronze Age Miletos

Such labels are scholarly constructs used to define archaeologically attested cultures, and their continued employment is not without debate; it is worth emphasising that ‘Minoan’ and ‘Mycenaean’ do not correspond to any named ancient ethnic entity.51 In an immediate sense, ‘Minoans’ and ‘Mycenaeans’ refer to individuals from Crete or mainland Greece, yet what of individuals from within their cultural realms? Is it possible to distinguish between a ‘Minoan’ from Crete and a ‘Minoan’ from a ‘Minoanised’ community in the archaeological record?52 According to the definition offered by C. Broodbank, ‘Minoanisation’ is a modern term ‘of sometimes deceptive convenience for a heterogeneous range of ancient material cultural traits and practices that indicate the adoption in places beyond Crete of ways of doing things that originated directly or indirectly in that island’.53 The processes that the term encompasses are wide-ranging, and so while its employment is convenient, certain criteria should be applied to judge the forms of interaction that were taking place: the presence of imports or ‘Minoanising’ wares is not enough to conclude the presence of individuals from Crete. But what can we deduce from the appearance of classically Minoan ceramic forms outside Crete, made from local fabrics? The possibility of Minoan settlement abroad is one alternative; ‘Minoanisation’, or the equally pervasive process of ‘Mycenaeanisation’, could also reflect mechanisms of cultural emulation in regions outside Crete and/or mainland Greece. At the least, such evidence reveals a level of contact and familiarity with a foreign material culture; the local adoption of Minoan/Mycenaean forms and techniques could indicate a desire on the part of the indigenous population to imitate their particular cultures. This in turn offers an insight into the dominant cultural forces at the time, or what Niemeier has termed a ‘cultural status vocabulary’.54 Ceramics constitute the majority of the evidence from the Bronze Age, and the ratio of imported wares or locally produced imitations to local wares should be considered when trying to assess the cultural makeup of a community in a particular period.55 N. Momigliano, who initiated the Bronze Age Carian Iasos project,56 has proposed examining production techniques in greater detail, distinguishing between poorer imitations of

51

52 53 54 55 56

Cf. Niemeier 2009a: 12: ‘we are in no position to know whether Bronze Age “Cretans” used a generic expression to describe themselves’. See Momigliano 2009: 122–123. Broodbank 2004: 46. Niemeier 2009a: 12. Benzi 2005: 206. Cf. Cadogan 1984: 13. Momigliano 2005: 217. See also Momigliano 2012.

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Minoan or Mycenaean forms, and those that are of a higher quality: the implication, she suggests, is that wares produced faithfully to Minoan or Mycenaean templates reveal the ‘motor habits’ of the manufacturer, and possibly their cultural origin.57 The potential settlement of individuals from within the Minoan/Mycenaean realms is further suggested by evidence for the practice of characteristic religious customs or cults, or distinctive burial practices; the presence of Minoan/Mycenaean building techniques may also be instructive. Such considerations need to be kept in view when analysing the archaeological evidence from southwestern Anatolia.58 Miletos offers some of the most persuasive evidence for the settlement of individuals from within the Minoan sphere in southwestern Anatolia. A project into the early occupation phases of Miletos was initiated under the directorship of W.-D. Niemeier in 1994, and the Bronze Age history of Miletos is now better understood than the majority of the other sites along the coast of Asia Minor.59 The phase labelled Miletos I corresponds to the Late Chalcolithic period (second half of the fourth millennium bc ), while Miletos II dates to the Early Bronze Age (third millennium bc ); the first evidence for Minoan contact comes in Miletos III, which corresponds to Middle Minoan IB to Middle Minoan II (nineteenth to eighteenth centuries bc ).60 Locally produced domestic wares of Minoan types have been discovered, including conical cups, a tripod cooking pot, a scuttle and a number of loom weights of a standard Minoan type.61 A kiln of a distinctive Minoan cross-draught type has also been found;62 the earliest known example on Crete dates to the Middle Minoan II period, and Kos is the only other place outside Crete that this type of kiln has been discovered.63 Minoan artefacts have been discovered in phase Miletos III, including two Minoan seals that find parallels on Crete.64 A clay seal-impression has also been found, which is typical of the type used in Cretan palace administration from Middle Minoan II onwards;65 its presence in the city could

57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64

65

Momigliano 2005: 222–223; 2009: 132–133. See discussion of Broodbank 2004: 50–54. Niemeier 1998; 2005; 2007. Cf. Raymond et al. 2016. Niemeier 2005: 2–4. Cf. Greaves 2002: 45–47. Niemeier 2005: 3; Raymond 2009: 152. Niemeier 2005: 3. Niemeier 2005: 3. Cf. Raymond 2009: 146–148, fig. 4. One bears a Cretan goat design, parallels for which on Crete date to Middle Minoan IA–IB (2100/50–1875/50); the other is of greenish serpentine with a motif of two circles that belonged to the ‘Mallia Workshop Complex’ on Crete of Middle Minoan IB–II (1925/00–1750/ 00). Niemeier 2005: 3, pl. 7 and 8; Raymond 2009: 144. Niemeier 2005: 3, pl. 9.

10

Late Bronze Age Miletos

suggest that the seals were intended for administrative purposes, and that Miletos had adopted elements of Minoan administration.66 Other finds from this context include imports of Kamares ware, a decorated style of pottery produced on Crete that was typically characterised by the use of white, red or blue designs against a black background.67 The Kamares wares at Miletos are mostly cups or bridge-spouted jars, dated to Middle Minoan IB and Middle Minoan II; initial petrographic analysis suggests that they originated in central Crete.68 For this phase it is important to stress that while Minoan influence on local manufacturing practices can be detected, Cretan imports constitute less than 2 per cent of the Miletos III assemblage; large quantities of local, southwestern Anatolian pottery predominate in this phase, mostly characteristic Red Wash Ware.69 The nature of the Minoan influence is not clear: the kiln and the local imitation pottery might indicate the presence of individuals who originated within the Minoan sphere, though it is not possible to deduce whether their presence constituted a formal colony, or the presence of traders and merchants. Such material could also be the result of cultural emulation among the pre-existing population of Bronze Age Miletos. The phase known as Miletos IV dates from Middle Minoan III to Late Minoan IB/II (roughly the eighteenth to the mid-fifteenth century bc ).70 During this period the settlement in the area of the temple of Athena was rebuilt; there was also a rupture in this stratum related to destruction caused by the volcanic eruption on Thera.71 The majority of the decorated pottery assemblage for this level is Minoan imports, although pottery from elsewhere in the Aegean is also found.72 Among the locally produced ceramics, Minoan types dominate, with a huge number of fragments of conical cups, in addition to over 500 whole examples.73 Minoan influence is further suggested by a courtyard structure with a central mudbrick altar, which appears to have been part of a sanctuary. Niemeier regards this arrangement as a typical Minoan 66 67 68 69 70 71 72

73

Greaves 2002: 46–47. Raymond 2001. Raymond 2001; 2009: 150; Greaves 2002: 46. Raymond 2009: 149–151, fig. 7. Cf. Raymond et al. 2016: 64–65. Niemeier 2005: 4–10. Niemeier 2005: 5. Niemeier 2005: 5; pottery from the Cyclades and the Greek mainland has been discovered, as well as Light-on-Dark and Dark-on-Light wares typical of the southeast Aegean, thought to have been produced on Kos. Kaiser 2009: 159; shapes belonging to the Minoan and southeastern Aegean koine group constitute around 90 per cent of the deposits (163). Other Minoan shapes among the discoveries include tripod cooking pots, fire stands, scuttles, fire-boxes and disc-shaped loom weights of the Minoan standard type (159–161). Cf. Niemeier 2005: 6.

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feature; a circular pit which has been discovered, with the burnt bones of goats, sheep and cattle, is also characteristic of Minoan practice.74 Broadly speaking the architecture of this level is unsophisticated, although we can detect the employment of Minoan techniques;75 this is reinforced through the use of a Minoan technique of wall painting in frescoes excavated in Miletos IV.76 A Milesian balance weight finds the closest parallels on Crete, while six fragmentary Linear A inscriptions have also been discovered at this level, all on vessels of Late Minoan IA date: five are made of local micaceous clay, while the other fragment apparently originated in south-central Crete.77 Distinguishing between Minoan influence as a result of settlement and commercial or diplomatic contact with the Minoan realm remains difficult. As Niemeier writes, the Minoan weight system could have been adopted outside Crete for economic expediency due to the dominance of Minoan culture during this period; the use of Linear A for commercial purposes could be similarly explained.78 But the vast dominance of Minoan forms in the local pottery assemblage is more instructive, as is the adoption of Minoan building techniques and potential cultic practices:  as Niemeier writes, ‘the material culture of Miletos IV is almost entirely Minoan’.79 Considering the evidence together, the presence of ‘Minoan’ settlers can be proposed during this period, though again the nature of this presence is more difficult to determine. Niemeier goes as far as to characterise the Minoan presence as a ‘settlement colony’ at Miletos, whereby settlers moved into unsettled land or drove out the indigenous population; what this signifies with regard to the previous inhabitants at Miletos is unclear.80 Recently, I. Kaiser and J. Zurbach have examined the evidence for the ‘Anatolian face’ of the material from Miletos IV, and stress the mixing of pottery styles, with the persistence of indigenous features in the body of material; as they write, such features ‘cannot be separated in terms of spatial or behavioural context’.81 P. Mountjoy has further questioned the applicability of the term 74 75

76 77 78 79 80

81

Niemeier 2005: 6. Niemeier 2005: 8; the practice of using roughly pyramidal shaped blocks in construction, so only the smooth face was visible, finds parallels across Crete during the same period. Niemeier 2005: 7; colour plates 14–18. Cf. Greaves 2002: 52. Niemeier 2005: 7. See Greaves 2002: 52–53. Niemeier 2005: 8. Niemeier 2005: 9. Niemeier 2005: 9, following Branigan’s model of the three main types of Minoan presence abroad; see Branigan 1981. Greaves (2002: 67) also considers it likely that Miletos IV was a settlement colony, though not one established on completely virgin soil. Kaiser and Zurbach 2015: 568. They discuss pottery made in fabrics called Common Milesian Coarse Ware and Red Wash Ware; the latter is distinctive of western Anatolia and does not find parallels in the Aegean. Cf. Kaiser 2009: 162.

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‘colony’ to describe the nature of the Minoan presence, and the formalised process of settlement it implies.82 Rather, she prefers to interpret the material as evidence for trading links; though she has recently emphasised that this too would have involved the presence of individuals from the Minoan realm in ‘trading enclaves’.83 Steering a course through the polarised debate between those scholars who advocate a Minoan colony at Miletos and those who prefer to speak of emulation is complicated.84 Minoan influence in Miletos III appears to indicate the presence of individuals originally from the Minoan realm, but also cooperation with the local population and acculturation. During Miletos IV, the evidence suggests a new influx of settlers, though the high level of Minoan acculturation could also indicate a process of continued assimilation. Whether the evidence should be interpreted as representative of a process of formalised colonisation or the result of trade, it does appear to indicate the presence and settlement of individuals from the Minoan realm, as well as a wider familiarity with, and emulation of, Minoan cultural forms. Mycenaean influence at the site is first attested in Miletos V during the Late Helladic IIIA:1 period (roughly 1420/10–1390/70 bc ); however, most of the Mycenaean pottery comes from the destruction layer of Miletos VI, dating from Late Helladic IIIA:2 and into IIIC (1390/70–1200/1190 BC).85 During this period Miletos seems to have served as a centre for pottery production.86 The majority of the locally produced pottery from this phase was of Mycenaean character, though there remain certain vessels of western Anatolian Red Wash type.87 There are also two fragments of pottery that may have been inscribed with Linear B signs.88 Certain Minoan traditions still survived, as indicated by the presence of Minoan style kilns in Miletos V and Miletos VI. Turning to the question of whether the evidence is indicative of Mycenaean settlers at Miletos, the presence of terracotta figurines of females and animals may serve as evidence for Mycenaean ritual. More persuasive evidence is offered by the discovery of eleven chamber tombs of Mycenaean type, dated to Miletos VI, and located at Değirmen Tepe, 1.5 km southwest of the settlement, in the area of the Temple of Athena;89 82 83 84 85 86 87 88

89

Mountjoy 1998: 33; 2015: 38ff. Mountjoy 2015: 38. Mountjoy 2015: 38. Niemeier 2005: 10–16. Cf. Niemeier 1998: 30–40. Niemeier 2005: 12. Niemeier 2005: 10–11. See Kaiser and Zurbach 2015: 570. Niemeier 2005: 12; although he also notes that, if this is the case, such evidence would be unusual to the region. Niemeier 2005: 13.

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yet, while the grave goods included Late Helladic IIIB–C (1330/15–1075/50 BC) pottery of Mycenaean character, other aspects of the material suggest the existence of what Mountjoy has labelled a ‘hybrid culture’.90 Out of four swords discovered in the tombs, three were of Anatolian character, and one Aegean.91 During Miletos V and into Miletos VI we thus witness a shift in influence away from the Minoan and towards the Mycenaean realm; Mycenaean forms seem to dominate, suggesting interaction and the presence of individuals from within the Mycenaean realm, though again we should be cautious about classifying this as evidence for a Mycenaean ‘colony’. Mountjoy has classified much of the material as belonging to an East Aegean Koine, characteristic of the ‘Lower Interface’, which she defines as incorporating the islands of the Dodekanese and coastal Anatolia. This witnessed the appearance of forms and motifs that do not find parallels on the Greek mainland, but rather reveal ‘a mixture of Mycenaean, Anatolian and Minoan influence’.92 They were the result of trade and mobility with the Mycenaean realm, and acculturation on the part of the pre-existing inhabitants of southwestern Anatolia; however, the settlement of Mycenaean traders can also be proposed. In summary, the Bronze Age archaeological evidence from Miletos reveals that the city was incorporated into the cultural spheres of the Minoans and the Mycenaeans, with the probable settlement of individuals from within these realms at the site. It is tempting to draw links between the archaeological evidence and the later mythological traditions relating the arrival of Cretan settlers, as has been proposed by Sourvinou-Inwood and Herda. Before turning to the question of how to interpret this correlation, the evidence from Miletos will first be contextualised; the following sections will explore what is known more broadly about southwestern Anatolia in the Bronze Age.

Minoan and Mycenaean Contacts with Southwestern Anatolia The notion of interaction between Crete and Caria held an allure for archaeologists working both on the island and at sites in western Anatolia during the twentieth century. As discussed in the Introduction, A.J. Evans

90 91 92

Mountjoy 1998: 37. Mountjoy 1998: 37. Mountjoy 1998: 37.

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placed an emphasis on the idea of an early cultural affinity between the two regions, and similarly, the excavations at Labraunda were initiated in order to explore a possible link between Bronze Age Anatolia and Crete.93 At Iasos, exploration began under the directorship of D. Levi in 1960, and continued into the 1970s under C. Laviosa, with the explicit intention of looking for evidence of contact between the Carian city and the Minoan and Mycenaean cultural realms. Rather than necessarily postulating a cultural affinity between the two regions, Laviosa and Levi were seeking evidence for Minoan and Mycenaean emporia or colonies along the coast of Anatolia, and looked to the cultural forces of the Aegean for the introduction of urbanisation to this region of Asia Minor.94 The last few decades have witnessed a shift in emphasis in archaeological research, and the early stages of settlement in western Anatolia have received renewed interest. The sites in western Anatolia where Minoan and Mycenaean styles have been discovered are plotted in Map 3. As noted, the Bronze Age Carian Iasos project has been initiated by N. Momigliano to readdress the nature of contact between the city and the Minoan and Mycenaean realms. As at Miletos, the material evidence raises the possibility of the settlement of Minoan/Mycenaean individuals in the city. There is limited evidence for contact with the Minoan sphere during the Protopalatial period,95 before the evidence increases during the period corresponding to Middle Minoan IIIB to Late Minoan IA (roughly 1750/00– 1625/00 BC). Pottery is the most abundant evidence: approximately fifty sherds originate from Cretan imports, ranging from drinking cups to jugs and pithoi. In addition, a number of vessels attest to the local production of Minoan-type pottery, including domestic pottery and fine wares, and imitations of both a poorer and a higher quality. The objects that fall into this category include hundreds of conical cups, loom weights, cooking pots, scuttles and spit-rests. The majority of conical cups are imitations of a higher quality, leading Momigliano to suggest that they were made following ‘proper “Minoan” templates, techniques, and motor habits’.96 Overall, Minoan imports and locally produced Minoanising pottery account for 5

93 94 95

96

See above, pp. 19–20. Laviosa 1973: 182–183. Cf. the comments of Momigliano 2005: 217–219; 2009: 121. Three vessels (two fragmentary Minoan drinking cups, and fragments of some form of jar) were discovered in levels contemporary with Middle Minoan IIIB and Late Minoan IA periods; however, Momigliano has postulated that their date can be pushed back to a Middle Minoan II–IIIA (1875/50–1700/1675) context through comparisons with similar material found on Crete. See Momigliano 2009: 124. Momigliano 2009: 133.

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Panaztepe

CHIOS

Erythrai Liman Tepe Çes¸me-Bag˘lararası Kolophon Ephesos

SAMOS IKARIA

Marsyas Valley

Miletos Teichioussa Mylasa Iasos Pilavtepe Müsgebi KALYMNOS

Halikarnassos

Vathy Cave KOS

Knidos

Trianda

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Map 3 Western Anatolia in the Late Bronze Age

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per cent of the total ceramic assemblage at Iasos. Local Anatolian wares constitute the largest group, while southeast Aegean Light-on-Dark and Dark-on-Light types, produced largely on Kos, are also well represented among the assemblage.97 Out of the imported wares found at Iasos so far, the southeast Aegean Light-on-Dark is among the most frequent.98 Potters’ marks in Linear A are attested on fragments from Iasos, including one on a vessel that was made in a local fabric.99 Certain architectural features at Iasos may also reveal a debt to Minoan culture: the construction of so-called Building F used large wedge-shaped stones in a technique that originated on Minoan Crete,100 which may indicate the presence of a mason from within the Minoan realm.101 The excavations at Iasos thus provide evidence for contact with Minoan Crete and other regions of the Aegean that fell within the Minoan sphere. The employment of Minoan techniques in local fabrics indicates a familiarity with the culture and technologies of the Minoan realm that is probably a result of direct contact. The high quality of certain of these Minoanised features, for example in the pottery assemblage, the Linear A potters’ marks and the building techniques employed in Building F, may further suggest the presence of individuals of Minoan origin or from within the Minoan realm.102 Mycenaean evidence is found at Iasos from Late Helladic IIIA:1 (roughly 1420/10–1390/70 BC);103 the majority is pottery, although a small number of terracotta figurines of Mycenaean character, made in local clay, have been discovered.104 Canonical Mycenaean forms constitute only 1.5 per cent of

97 98

99

100 101

102 103

104

This had been classified by Levi and Laviosa as ‘Kamares’ pottery ; see Momigliano 2005: 219. Momigliano 2005: 220–222. Around a dozen possible imports from the Cyclades have so far been identified, while three vessels may have their origin on Rhodes; there are also several imports from Miletos. Momigliano 2009: 127: three or four fragments have been identified to date; the fragment made from local fabric was incised before firing. A similar technique is attested at Miletos; see this chapter, n. 75. Momigliano 2009: 126–127. A small number of stone objects discovered at Iasos may also reveal a skill base that finds its origin in Minoan techniques, including an imported fragmentary mace head, and two stone vases that were made in the local red marble (128– 129). The similarity between this local red marble and rosso antico from Lakonia has further led Momigliano to suggest that Minoan stone vases from Crete and Minoanised areas, such as Kos, should be re-evaluated with the possibility that they may provide another link between southwestern Anatolia and Minoan Crete. Momigliano 2009: 127. No pottery has been discovered from the period corresponding to Late Minoan IB/Late Helladic IIA (roughly 1625/00–1470/60), which appears to be connected to the volcanic eruption on Thera; though it is unclear whether this indicates a rupture in settlement at the site. See Benzi 2005: 205–206. Benzi 1999.

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the total ceramics, and plain and monochrome Mycenaean types another 8.5 per cent; however, Mycenaean shapes and motifs are numerous among the pottery of local fabrics (the remaining 90 per cent of the assemblage). Unlike in earlier periods, the pottery of Anatolian type represents only a small fraction of local wares at Iasos during Late Bronze Age III; though again, characteristic features of the East Aegean Koine are present. Interaction between Iasos and the major Bronze Age powers of Minoan Crete and Mycenaean Greece is attested in the material record. Imports from the Minoan and Mycenaean sphere indicate contact with Iasos, although we should not assume that this was direct; it may have been conducted through regional centres.105 The local assimilation of Minoan and Mycenaean material culture may also be the result of their cultural pre-eminence during this period. Stronger indications of direct contact between Iasos and individuals from within the Minoan and Mycenaean realms are offered by the highquality imitations that were produced locally at Iasos: they reveal a close acquaintance with ‘Minoan’ or ‘Mycenaean’ production techniques and technologies, their specific ‘motor habits’, which are more likely to reveal the origins of the craftsman.106 Returning to the original criteria of indicators for the presence of a foreign population group, the employment of Minoan building techniques reinforces the impression that craftsmen from within the Minoan realm were working and/or resident at Iasos; however, this does not appear to have been a colony, and any such individuals appear to have lived alongside the indigenous population, leading to acculturation. Current knowledge of the Bronze Age occupation of southwestern Anatolia is dictated by the extent of archaeological exploration in the region, which is by no means comprehensive. But the results of the excavations undertaken to date reveal that a number of sites attest to some level of contact with the Minoan and Mycenaean domains, whether direct or indirect. At Knidos, Minoan pottery dating to Middle Minoan I to Late Minoan I has been excavated, ranging from fine painted wares to coarse cooking vessels.107 Excavations on the southern shore of the Milesian peninsula have revealed an area of settlement that is now identified with Teichiussa.108 During a phase contemporary with Late Minoan IA (roughly

105

106 107 108

Evidence for the direct involvement of Iasos in the longer distance trade networks of the eastern Mediterranean is currently lacking, although it may be that such interaction was directed through the larger regional emporia, including Miletos and Trianda on Rhodes; Momigliano 2005: 223–224. Momigliano 2009: 132–133. Mellink 1978: 321. Voigtländer 2009. Thucydides (8. 26. 3) noted that the city was in Milesian territory.

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1700/1675–1625/00 BC), a number of objects have been discovered that indicate influence from the south Aegean: loom weights typical of the Minoan sphere, as well as conical cups.109 W. Voigtländer concludes that such objects were imports acquired through trade, rather than an indicator of the adoption of Minoan styles locally.110 Research undertaken by the İzmir Region Excavations and Research Project in the Karaburun peninsula, southwest of Smyrna, has revealed more about the early stages of occupation in the region. At the site of Çeşme-Bağlararası, located near to the modern town Çeşme,111 excavations have shown that occupation dates from a time contemporary with the Middle Minoan III period (roughly 1750/00–1700/1675 BC), although pottery from this period is largely local.112 The site’s involvement in the Aegean trading networks increased in the Late Minoan IA period (roughly 1700/1675–1625/00 BC): local pottery types remain in the majority, but imported pottery is also well represented, mainly Cycladic and Cycladic Minoanising ceramics.113 Minoan imports are small in number, though all are of a high quality.114 Another site on the Karaburun peninsula, Liman Tepe, also reveals contacts with Minoan Crete from the Early Bronze Age, with the discovery of two bowls that seem to be characteristically Minoan.115 While the evidence discovered to date is not extensive, the material record at both Çeşme-Bağlararası and Liman Tepe indicates interaction with Minoan Crete, and more broadly with other islands that fell within the Minoan sphere during the Early and Middle Bronze Age. Mycenaean influence is also well attested in southwestern Anatolia, most notably at the Müsgebi necropolis located on the Halikarnassos peninsula. It consists of forty-eight subterranean chamber tombs, with burials dated from Late Helladic IIIA:1 to Late Helladic IIIC (1420/10–1075/50 BC).116 The chambers vary in plan from circular to rectangular,117 and generally

109

110 111 112 113

114

115

116 117

Voigtländer 2009: 115: the excavations did not reveal any evidence of a production centre in the vicinity of the site. Voigtländer 2009: 115. Erkanal and Keskin 2009. Erkanal and Keskin 2009: 100. Erkanal and Keskin 2009: 102–103. The Minoanising wares are mainly Dark-on-Light examples, employing decorative spirals or floral motifs. Erkanal and Keskin 2009: 102: they include polychrome and ‘ripple wares’, and spiral and band decorations. Erkanal and Keskin 2009: 105: a fragment of an open bowl, thought to have been a Minoan import, was discovered in a phase contemporary with the Early Minoan IIB (roughly 2450/ 00–2200), while another deep, spouted bowl is of a type that is familiar from Early Minoan II to Middle Minoan I periods on Crete. Boysal 1967: 31–39; Mee 1978: 137–142; Carstens 2001; 2008. Carstens 2001: 89.

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consist of a dromos and a burial chamber; they display an affinity with the Mycenaean realm, though most closely with the areas of the eastern Aegean and the Dodekanese.118 About half of the pottery assemblage from Müsgebi was locally made;119 the majority of the imported pottery is from the Dodekanese,120 while clay analysis suggests that some was from Miletos.121 Burial practices are considered to be a strong indicator of the cultural origins of a population, and thus the presence of Mycenaean style tombs on the Halikarnassos peninsula might reveal the settlement of ‘Mycenaeans’. Mountjoy has questioned this notion due to the location of Müsgebi away from the coast; she prefers to interpret the tombs as an indicator of the local adoption and adaptation of Mycenaean forms.122 The discovery of a Mycenaean-style chamber tomb at Pilavtepe near Milas,123 and a Mycenaean tholos tomb at Kolophon, may also be due to acculturation, though the presence of ‘Mycenaean’ individuals should not be ruled out.124 Further evidence has also been found at Ephesos125 and Bademgediği Tepe, located towards the Karabel pass.126 In the region of the Marsyas, a tributary of the Maeander, evidence for contact with the Mycenaeans has recently been discovered at Çine Tepecik, and appears to indicate stronger Rhodian influence; it will hopefully be understood more fully with further research.127 Generally, Minoan influence faded with the advance of the Mycenaeans, and at Miletos and Iasos it is possible to identify distinct phases. This pattern can also be detected in the Dodekanese:128 on Karpathos, pottery and burial forms indicate affinities with both the Minoan and Mycenaean realms,129 while Minoan and Mycenaean imports have been discovered at

118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128

129

Boysal 1967: 53; the closest parallel can be found in the Mycenaean cemeteries on Rhodes. Carstens 2001: 95. Carstens 2001: 95. Mountjoy 1998: 37. Mountjoy 1998: 36–37. Benter 2009. Bridges 1974. Bammer 1990: 141–142. Mountjoy 2015: 42. Günel 2010. The transition is less pronounced on the islands closest to Crete, where the Minoan character of the settlements persisted through the Late Bronze Age period. Melas 1985: 173–176; contact began during Middle Minoan I–II, and increased from Middle Minoan III. For the period Late Minoan II to IIIA:2, approximately 85 per cent of the pottery assemblage from Karpathos, Kasos and Saros is either Minoan imports or locally made imitations. Cf. Melas 2009: 178; the continuance of close relations with Crete during Late Minoan III, and the relative lack of influence from the Mycenaean realm, is noteworthy on Karpathos; however, a cemetery of Mycenaean-style chamber cut tombs has been discovered near Avlona in northern Karpathos; cf. Platon and Karantzali 2003.

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Minoan and Mycenaean Contacts with SW Anatolia

the Vathy Cave on Kalymnos.130 At Trianda on Rhodes, the earliest evidence for interaction with the Minoan realm dates to Middle Minoan I–II, while the earliest phase of the Late Bronze Age settlement corresponds to Middle Minoan IIIB to Late Minoan IA (roughly 1750/00–1625/00 BC).131 A number of polythyra, a distinctly Minoan building type, were excavated at this level.132 A large quantity of Minoan conical cups was also discovered among the assemblage, as well as local imitations of Cretan forms.133 During Late Minoan IIIA (1420/10–1330/15 BC) the pottery of Trianda became increasingly Mycenaean in style, with a Mycenaean cemetery of chamber tombs located on the neighbouring hills of Makra and Moschou Vounara.134 Again, it has been questioned whether such features were a result of colonisation or emulation; though this should not detract from the underlying notion of mobility and interaction.135 The assimilation of dominant Minoan/Mycenaean cultural forms in southwestern Anatolia does not necessarily mean that all communities came into direct contact with ‘Minoan’ or ‘Mycenaean’ individuals; the presence of Minoan or Mycenaean pottery could equally indicate indirect contact. But there are other indicators that Minoan/Mycenaean contact in the region was more substantial: the adoption of certain characteristic burial practices or architectural forms likely reveals the presence of Minoan or Mycenaean settlers, as does the evidence for the institution of Minoan or Mycenaean cult practices. Such forms of contact were most prominent at the coastal sites that served as commercial centres, or emporia, during the Bronze Age,136 and the evidence suggests some level of population influx at Miletos and Iasos as a result of trade. The scope of this survey is by nature subjective, dealing with a specific aspect of the archaeological data from a selection of sites, and thus does not serve as a comprehensive account of the Bronze Age settlement of the region. However, the picture to emerge is one of significant interaction between coastal Anatolia and the Bronze Age Minoan and Mycenaean cultures, including inter-regional mobility and the likely settlement of individuals 130 131

132 133

134 135 136

Benzi 1993. Marketou 1988: 27–28; 2009: 73–74. Four Middle Minoan stone vases were discovered in the vicinity of the later acropolis and temple of Athena. Marinatos and Hägg 1986; Marketou 1988: 30. Marketou 1988: 30–31; 2009: 89. The discovery of three bronze Minoan statuettes further reinforces the impression of Cretan influence. Marketou 1988: 31. Cf. Benzi 1988a; 1988b; Mee 1988. Marketou 2009: 90–91. It can be presumed that the necropolis at Müsgebi was attached to a site, although it has not yet been discovered.

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from within these realms at certain sites in Caria. The East Aegean Koine identified by Mountjoy further reveals the numerous small-scale regional ties linking coastal southwestern Anatolia with the neighbouring Dodekanese.137 Regional cultural forms were developed that combined Anatolian elements with those identified as Mycenaean or Minoan; the result was a distinct material culture specific to the Lower Interface.138 Again, it is possible to mark a clear distinction between the coastal and inland areas of the region. This could partly be due to a bias in evidence, with the coastal areas more extensively explored; but the orientation of western Caria towards the Aegean during the Late Bronze Age is notable. Modern reconstructions of the cultural dynamics of Caria during the second millennium bc are not solely dependent on archaeological research. Our understanding of the political geography of western Anatolia can further be illuminated by the Hittite written sources, in what D. Hawkins terms the ‘successful dovetailing of historical and archaeological data’.139 There remain problems of interpretation due to the lack of secure identifications for the peoples and toponyms named in the texts; but the material has much to offer, in particular in relation to the potential equation of the textually attested kingdom of Ahhiyawa with the Mycenaean realm.

Western Anatolia in the Hittite Sources In the second millennium bc , central Anatolia was dominated by the Hittite kingdom, with its capital at Hattuša. For much of the Old Kingdom (roughly 1700–1500 bc ), Hittite involvement in western Anatolia appears to have been minimal. A land of Arzawa is referred to in the textual sources, which imply a general location in the west, somewhere between the central Anatolian plain and the coast.140 Western Anatolia was in contact with the 137 138 139 140

Mountjoy 1998; 2015. See p. 104. Hawkins 2015: 16. On Arzawa, see Heinhold-Krahmer (1977). The lands of Luwiya mentioned in the Hittite sources also seem to indicate a territory to the south and west of the Hittite kingdom. Bryce (2003: 31) suggests that Luwiya was used in a broad ethno-geographical sense, indicating a general region which was inhabited by peoples speaking a shared Indo-European language, but without precise territorial limits. It is not clear how this land related to Arzawa, though it has been suggested that the ethno-linguistic term Luwiya came to be replaced by the geo-political term Arzawa: see Hawkins 2013a: 33. Yakubovich 2010 has proposed that Luwiya should be moved further east, and that western Anatolia in the Bronze Age was already occupied by speakers of the proto-languages of the later Carians, Lydians and Lycians; see also Yakubovich 2008. However, Hawkins has expressed doubt about this suggestion: see Hawkins 2013a; 2013b.

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Hittite kingdom, providing important metal supplies and creating opportunities for trade with the Aegean,141 but the region was not annexed by the Hittites, and did not officially fall into their realm.142 The only clear case of interference occurs in Hattusili I’s Annals for his third year (first half of the sixteenth century bc ), where we find a reference to a raid on Arzawan territory.143 Hittite activity in Arzawa increased during the Early New Kingdom under the reign of Tudhaliya I/II (late fifteenth/early fourteenth century bc ), and in his Annals we find two references to military campaigns; one conducted against several of the Arzawa lands, and another against a confederacy of states referred to as the Assuwan Confederacy.144 Hittite involvement increased under the reign of Mursili II (late fourteenth century bc ), with the ‘great western campaign’ of years three and four of his Annals (c.1318–1317 bc ).145 He defeated the Arzawan army on the Astarpa River, which apparently served as the frontier with Hatti, before marching on the capital Apasa; the Arzawan king Uhhaziti is said to have fled ‘across the sea’.146 Mursili II proceeded to break up the kingdom of Arzawa into its constituent lands: Hapalla, Mira-Kawaliya and the Seha River Land (with Abbawiya).147 They were bound to Hatti by treaties; under the reign of Mursili’s son Muwatalli, a further treaty was concluded with Wilusa.148 It appears that Arzawa subsequently ceased to exist as a separate entity, and was subsumed in the kingdom of Mira; thus Miran territory extended to the coast.149 The relative locations of the Arzawa lands have been established with reasonable certainty, though their exact locations are not known definitely.150 According to the reconstruction of J. D. Hawkins (Map 4), the Seha River Land was centred on the Hermos River, and perhaps the Kaikos; it appears to have bordered Hapalla to the east (possibly the area later identified as Pisidia). The limits of Mira are now more fully understood following the decipherment of the Karabel inscription by Hawkins.151 The 141 142 143

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145

146 147 148 149 150 151

Yakar 1976: 120–123. Bryce 1986a: 3–4; cf. Bryce 2005. Annals (CTH 4), I 22–23: ‘In the following years I marched against Arzawa and took cattle and sheep.’ See Bryce 2005: 73–74. KUB 23. 11 and 12 (CTH 142); cf. Garstang and Gurney 1959: no. 5. Tudhaliya writes that when he had destroyed the Land of Assuwa, he returned to Hattuša. Cf. Bryce 2005: 123–127. There are hints that this began during the reign of Suppiluliuma I (father of Mursili), though the evidence is fragmentary. AhT 1A (CTH 61. I), A ii. 15–32. Cf. Starke 1981; Hawkins 2009: 75. Beckman HDT nos. 10, 11, 12; CTH 67, 68, 69. Beckman HDT no. 13; CTH 76. Bryce 2003: 39–40; Hawkins 2009: 75. See Bryce 2003: 35ff.; Hawkins 2013a: 37; 2015. Hawkins 1998.

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Millawanda

Latmos

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Afyon

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L U K K A Pinale

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Map 4 Bronze Age Anatolia

reliefs are located on a pass across the Tmolos range of mountains, on the route between Ephesos and Sardis, which may have served as the frontier between Mira and the Seha River Land to the north. The inscription records the name of Tarkasnawa, king of Mira, who is also known from seal impressions at Boğazköy; it is thought that he was a contemporary of Tudhaliya IV (c.1237–1209 bc ).152 Wilusa has been identified with (W)illion/Troy, and a location in the northwestern region of Anatolia, in what was later the Troad, is now widely accepted.153 The locations of other lands mentioned in the Hittite texts are more securely fixed. The Lukka Lands can be equated with the area of later Lycia,154 while Kizzuwatna and Tarhuntassa correspond to the Cicilian plain 152 153

154

Hawkins 1998. See Hawkins 2015: 29. Cf. Heinhold-Krahmer 2013, who proposed a location in the southwest. Hawkins 2015: 19–20: the YALBURT inscription records the campaign of Tudhaliya IV against the Lukka Lands, and it is possible to link certain of the place names with the toponyms of Classical Lycia: Wiyanawanda (Oenoanda), Tlawa (Tlos), Mt. Patara (Patara),

15

Western Anatolia in the Hittite Sources

and Rough Cilicia/part of Pamphylia respectively.155 The Arzawan capital Apasa is now identified with the site of Ephesos; the sources indicate that it was located on the coast, as Uhhaziti fled from the city across the sea.156 The equation of Millawanda with Miletos is also relatively confident.157 Little is known conclusively about the region that constituted Caria during the second millennium bc .158 An equation with the land of Karkisa/ Karkiya mentioned in the Hittite sources has gained most traction among scholars,159 although this identification remains insecure, and a location in northwestern Anatolia has also been sought.160 Karkisa/Karkiya was apparently situated close to the Seha River Land, as in one text the king of that land, Manapa-Tarhunta, fled the country after a dispute with his brothers and sought refuge there; the Hittite king Mursili II then intervened on his behalf to ensure that the people of Karkisa kept him safe.161 The so-called Alaksandu treaty, between Mursili II and the king of Wilusa in the thirteenth century bc , also referred to Karkisa, alongside cities of Lukka, Masa and Warsiyalla, in relation to a Hittite campaign;162 however, that does not necessarily reflect on the location of the territory.163 As Hawkins concludes, ‘there is no evidence for locating Karkisa/Karkiya in later Caria, but not much against either’.164 It need not be presumed that the region of Caria was demarcated as a geographical unit during the Bronze Age. The Lukka Lands were located to the east of Caria, while Mira appears to have covered the region to the north of Caria; their frontiers may have extended into Classical Caria. Rock inscriptions on Mt. Latmos make reference to a ‘Great King’s son’ in the region identified with Mira;165 this might suggest that Miran territory

155 156 157 158 159

160

161 162 163

164 165

Pinale (Pinara), Awarna (Xanthos, Aramaic ‘wrn). To date, there is very little archaeological material relating to Bronze Age settlement in Lycia; cf. Des Courtils 2001, who discusses this paucity, and suggests that it could be related to the use of wood for construction. Hawkins 2015: 19. On the Lukka Lands, see Bryce 2003: 40–44. Hawkins 2015: 24. Cf. Bryce 2003: 39. Niemeier 1998: 45; 1999: 144; 2005: 16ff.; Greaves 2002: 69–71; Hawkins 2015: 25. See below. See Bryce 2003: 33; Hawkins 2013a: 35–36; Oreshko (forthcoming). Melchert 2003b: 7; Bryce 2003: 33. Hittite references: KUB 23. 11 and 12 (CTH 142; cf. Garstang and Gurney 1959: no. 5), l. 16; Beckman HDT 13 (CTH 76), A iii 3–7; AhT 1B (CTH 61. II), A iv 14–33; Kadesh Inscriptions P40–53. Starke 2002: 304; Oreshko (forthcoming). Simon 2015 rejects a linguistic association between Karkisa and Caria; though see the reservations of Hawkins 2013a: 36. AhT 1B (CTH 61. II), A iv 14–33. Beckman HDT 13 (CTH 76), A iii 3–7. In another text the land of Karkisa is found siding with the Assuwan Confederacy against the Hittites: KUB 23. 11 and 12 (CTH 142); cf. Garstang and Gurney 1959: no. 5. Hawkins 2013a: 36; cf. 2013b: 11. Peschlow-Bindokat 2002.

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extended across the Maeander valley, though the texts are better described as graffiti and not an ‘official’ indicator of regional frontiers.166 The problem over the identification of the kingdom of Ahhiyawa/Ahhiya is of further relevance to Bronze Age Caria, in particular if it can be equated with the archaeologically attested Mycenaean culture, which may indicate that Ahhiyawan territory extended to coastal Anatolia. The more active interest of Mursili II in western Anatolia appears to have been prompted by the rise of Ahhiyawa and its encroachment on Hittite interests.167 The earliest attestation for this kingdom is the Madduwatta Text, most probably written during the reign of Arnuwanda I (early fourteenth century bc ). The Hittite king Arnuwanda is found writing to Madduwatta, a western Anatolian local ruler, regarding his duplicitous behaviour. According to the text, Madduwatta had been chased from his land by ‘Attarissiya, the ruler Ahhiya’, and sought the support of Arnuwanda’s father, Tudhaliya I/II.168 Later, in the Annals of Mursili II, it is recorded that the Arzawan king Uhhaziti had sided with Ahhiyawa against Hatti, and incited Millawanda to do the same.169 It is unclear where the kingdom of Ahhiyawa/Ahhiya was geographically centred, though there is a strong consensus that it should be identified with the Mycenaean sphere.170 Ahhiyawa is always mentioned in close connection to the sea and in relation to the affairs of the vassal states in western Anatolia. In the so-called ‘Tawagalawa Letter’, in fact a letter by a Hittite king to a king of Ahhiyawa, it is recorded that a certain Piyamaradu had destroyed Attarimma, as a result of which the people of Lukka appealed to the Hittite king. The Hittite king advanced west to Waliwanda, and wrote to Piyamaradu to evacuate Iyalanda; they fought and Piyamaradu appears to have retreated to Millawanda. The Hittite king then wrote to the king of Ahhiyawa to extradite Piyamaradu. Negotiations were conducted through the son-in-law of Piyamaradu, Atpa, who was present in Millawanda; however, before any resolution was finalised, Piyamaradu escaped to Ahhiyawa by ship.171

166 167 168

169 170 171

Oreshko 2013: 346ff.; Hawkins 2015: 21. Cf. Hutter 2003: 213. Bryce 1986a: 4. AhT 3 (Beckman HDT no. 27; CTH 147; KUB 14. 1 and KBo 19. 38). Madduwatta is repeatedly recorded as transgressing his oath with the Hittite king; he is also said to have joined with Attarissiya again against Hatti. See Hawkins 2015: 23–24. AhT 1B (CTH 61. II.), A i 23–26; Güterbock 1983: 135. See Mountjoy 1998; Niemeier 1998: 19–25. Letters from the Hittite Kingdom no. 101 (AhT 4; CTH 181; KUB 14. 3). Cf. Garstang and Gurney 1959: no. 1. The Hittite king is generally identified as Hattusili III (1264–1239 bc ), though some have argued for Muwatalli II. See Güterbock 1983: 135–137; Hawkins 2015: 21–22.

17

Caria on the Interface

Such an impression offers support to the notion of an Ahhiyawan heartland in mainland Greece, or perhaps one of the islands off the coast of Anatolia. The crossover with the materially attested Mycenaean culture is striking. Mountjoy has suggested that the centre of the Ahhiyawan kingdom could be located in the cultural sphere of the Lower Interface, incorporating the Dodekanese and coastal Anatolia; such a geographical situation would be compatible with the recorded dealings of Ahhiyawa with western Anatolia and the Hittites.172 In correspondence with the Hittites, the king of Ahhiyawa is also referred to as ‘my brother, the Great King’, appearing to indicate that we are not dealing with one of the smaller kingdoms of western Anatolia.173 The implication in the ‘Tawagalawa Letter’ is that the Ahhiyawan sphere extended to include Millawanda: Tawagalawa, the brother of the king of Ahhiyawa, appears to have used Millawanda as the base for his operations.174 If Ahhiyawa can be equated with the Mycenaean realm, the archaeological evidence for a Mycenaean presence at Miletos may have been accompanied by the incorporation of parts of coastal Anatolia into the Mycenaean political domain during the Late Bronze Age.175

Caria on the Interface This overview of the evidence related to the social and political history of southwestern Anatolia in the second millennium bc does not offer any conclusive answers about the situation of Caria during the Bronze Age. However, the image that emerges again suggests the close involvement of western Caria with the neighbouring islands of the Dodekanese, and the development of distinctive cultural forms that reflected the absorption of influences from both the Aegean and Anatolia. More broadly, the evidence for interaction between the Hittite and the Minoan/Mycenaean realms is not substantial, although it does exist.176 A certain number of ‘luxury’ or ‘prestige’ goods have been discovered, indicating some level of contact. At Mycenae, a silver cup in 172 173

174 175

176

Mountjoy 1998: 50–51. Letters from the Hittite Kingdom no. 101 (AhT 4; CTH 181; KUB 14. 3), i. 71–74. Cf. Garstang and Gurney 1959: no. 1; Güterbock 1983: 136; Cline 1994: 69; Mountjoy 1998: 51. Mountjoy 1998: 48–51. Güterbock 1983: 137; Niemeier 1998: 37–38; Hawkins 2015. Mellink 1983: 139–140 draws a link between the destruction level of LH IIA:2 at Miletos and the sacking of the city by Mursili II’s generals, after its revolt against Hatti. The lack of extensive evidence for trade led Cline 1991 to postulate an economic embargo between the two realms.

117

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the form of a stag appears to be of Anatolian origin;177 in the opposite direction, an Old Hittite relief vase from Hüseyindede, east of Ankara, depicts bull leaping, a characteristic Minoan ritual.178 Beyond the tales of conflict, the written sources further attest to communication and reciprocal awareness between the Hittites of central Anatolia and the peoples of the Aegean. In a particular crisis of Mursili II, he is said to have lost the power of speech, and consulted his priests on the best course of action; their advice was to fetch ‘the gods of Lazpa [Lesbos] and Ahhiyawa’.179 The implication is that the Hittites were aware of the cultures of the Aegean and acquainted with their deities. Another text refers to a group of dyers and craftsmen from Lazpa, who defected from the king of the Seha River Land, and went ‘across the sea’, appearing to indicate the integration of the island into the Hittite sphere of influence.180 A letter from the king of Ahhiyawa to a Hittite king also records the good relations of Ahhiyawa with the king of Assuwa,181 and an earlier diplomatic marriage between an Assuwan princess and the great-grandfather of the Ahhiyawan king. 182 Contact between Anatolia and the Aegean appears to have been diplomatic as well as commercial. The resulting mobility of individuals would have had wide-reaching social, cultural and religious ramifications, and not only travelling from the dominant culture to the outlying regions of their realms. S. Morris has suggested that the cult of Potnia Aswiya mentioned in the Mycenaean tablets from Pylos could be connected to the geographical term Assuwa known from the Hittite texts, in reference to part of western Anatolia. She envisages the deity as the ‘Mistress of Asia’, and links its presence at Pylos to certain individuals listed among the female personnel who appear to have come from coastal Anatolia and the neighbouring islands:183 from Miletos 177

178

179 180 181

182 183

Akurgal 1962: 40; other drinking vessels in Anatolian shapes have also been found in Mycenae. Cf. Niemeier 1999: 148; 2005: 10. Niemeier 2005: 10. Fragments of a bowl found in Hattuša, and dated to the fifteenth or fourteenth centuries bc , depicts a warrior whose helmet is not Hittite; Niemeier 1999: 149– 150 suggests that it is a Hittite depiction of a Mycenaean. AhT 20 (CTH 570. 1), ii. 57–64. Cf. Morris 2001: 428; Mason 2008. AhT 7 (CTH 191; KUB 19. 5 + KBo 19. 79). Cf. Mason 2008: text 2. The exact location of Assuwa in western Anatolia is disputed; Bryce (2003: 74) notes that the Assuwan Confederacy in the Annals of Tudhaliya I/II lists twenty-two countries including Wilusiya and the earliest known reference to the Lukka Lands. Starke (2002: 304) suggested an association with Classical Assos; Melchert (2003b: 7) notes that it could equally be related to the name Asia, and thus refer to a location in west central Anatolia. Letters from the Hittite Kingdom: no. 99 (KUB 26. 91). Morris 2001: 425–428, PY Fr 1206; following an initial observation by Watkins 1998. Morris (2001: 430) tentatively equates the deity with Artemis of Ephesos, though this idea must be advanced with caution.

19

Miletos: Continuities and Innovation

(mi-ra-ti-ja), Knidos (ki-ni-di-ja), possibly Halikarnassos (ze-pu2-ra3), as well as Lemnos (ra-mi-ni-ja), Kythera (ku-ter-ra3), and possibly Chios (ki-si-wi-ja); there was also a more general term for women designated as ‘Asian’ (A-swija).184 The movement of individuals is further suggested in the ‘Tawagalawa Letter’, in which the Hittite king complains to the king of Ahhiyawa about the transplant of Hittite subjects to Ahhiyawa: according to the letter, around 7,000 people from the Lukka Lands had been moved to Ahhiyawa.185 Whether this was done forcibly or willingly, such mobility in the networks of the Aegean and western Anatolia would have resulted in cultural exchange. Rather than thinking of the region solely in terms of the greater and more well known attested cultures to the east and the west, the character of Bronze Age Caria is better envisaged as a construct in its own right; adapting to influences in a fluctuating political environment, and developing distinct cultural forms.186 The archaeological and historical evidence confirms the view that western Caria was oriented towards the Aegean during the Bronze Age, with the development of a cultural koine in the Dodekanese and southwestern Anatolia. It also reveals that western Anatolia was naturally incorporated into the spheres of the culturally dominant Minoan and Mycenaean realms; one aspect of this was mobility between the Bronze Age cultures of southwestern Anatolia and Crete, and a probable population influx at certain sites, notably Miletos and Iasos. While this may not have been part of a formal process of colonisation, the resulting interaction with the indigenous population led to cultural exchange. Interaction with the Aegean was a fundamental aspect of Carian history, and affected the social and cultural dynamics of the region from early in the Bronze Age. I will now return to the thorny question of whether the mythological traditions linking Miletos with Crete may be connected to this early mobility, preserving some memory of these early channels of communication.

Miletos: Continuities and Innovation Communities in the ancient world built up their foundation mythologies within a broadly accepted chronological framework. At Miletos traditions arose around the founding figures of Miletos and Neileus. They are not entirely compatible, and one has to wonder what was supposed to have 184 185

186

Morris 2001: 424; Nikoloudis 2008: 46–49. Letters from the Hittite Kingdom no. 101 (AhT 4; CTH 181; KUB 14. 3), iii 7ff. Cf. Garstang and Gurney 1959: no. 1; Bryce 2003: 76ff.; Nikoloudis 2008: 49. Mountjoy 1998. Cf. Mac Sweeney 2010.

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happened between the arrival of the Cretans and the arrival of the Ionians. But such foundation mythologies often deal with moments of disjuncture, stressing the moments of change or influx rather than stability.187 The traditions surrounding the ‘Ionian migration’, and the expulsion or murder of the local Carian population, are primarily a comment on the non-Greek character of the land that the Ionians were settling. Both the unity of the migrating peoples and the conflict with the native population were overplayed as part of a process of ethnogenesis by the Ionians, creating a coherent and common identity out of a heterogeneous group of settlers.188 Furthermore, attempts to identify discrete levels of occupation, whether in the archaeological record or in mythological narratives, undermines the continuities in the region. Archaeologically speaking, it is still not possible to identify a distinct ‘Carian’ population in the material record, but the presence of Carian speakers in the area is assured.189 Similarly, while a destruction level can be detected at the end of Miletos VI, occupation of the site did not cease, and it can be presumed that the same mixture of peoples continued to inhabit the region after the apparent influx from the Aegean.190 Judging the historical accuracy of later recorded versions of the past is not the only measure by which we should evaluate their value to the historian. While the standardised version of Milesian history may have been interested in rupture, that does not mean it had no relation to events in the city’s history. In attempting to gauge the relationship of the material record to the later historical traditions it is important to tread a fine line between accepting that certain mythological traditions could preserve a residuum of historical events, and looking for this historical core in all such traditions. But at the same time, the correspondence between the body of mythologies surrounding Minos and the prevalence of Minoan cultural forms in the city in the Bronze Age is too great to dismiss outright.191 The involvement of Cretans in maritime activities is recurrent in our sources. The proverb ‘the Cretan does not know the sea’, for instance, was used in antiquity to describe someone who pretends not to know what he does.192 The most prominent tradition centred on the thalassocracy of Minos, though the maritime acumen of the Cretans is also preserved in the Delphic foundation myth: the Homeric Hymn to Pythian Apollo relates that 187 188 189 190 191 192

Sourvinou-Inwood 2005: 275. Sourvinou-Inwood 2005: 306; Herda 2009: 31–34. Herda 2009: 71–72. Herda 2009: 70–72. Greaves 2002: 68. Strab. 10. 4. 17.

12

Miletos: Continuities and Innovation

the god, disguised as a dolphin, intercepted the journey of Cretan sailors from Knossos.193 These sailors were enlisted as Apollo’s ministers in sacrifice, and told to pray to him as Apollo Delphinios;194 they served as guards at his temple at Mt. Parnassos and received the men that gathered there.195 The settlement of Cyrene during the seventh century bc also maintained a Cretan connection. The ‘Theran version’, as outlined by Herodotus, related that the Therans sought the seafaring advice of a Cretan purple-fisher from Itanos, by the name of Korobios, after they suffered a seven-year drought. Korobios was then employed to lead an advance party that settled on the island of Platea, just off the coast of Libya.196 The historicity of this tale is not the only way in which to approach it: the underlying assumption is that the Cretans were renowned for their naval expertise in trade and long-distance travel, which could trace back to the historical prominence of Crete in the Bronze Age networks of the Aegean and further afield.197 There will never be definitive proof one way or another. The existence of a Miletos on Crete, for instance, could be cited in support of a potential Cretan influx; but equally, the claimed affiliation could have arisen as a result of shared nomenclature. Shared toponyms were a common feature in the ancient world, but in most cases it is not possible to establish secure links. A.  Herda has suggested that Mt. Mykale in Caria could reflect the Boiotian origins of settlers in the region, echoed in the city of Mykalessos in Boiotia;198 the Carian Naxia might also be related to the tradition of Carian settlers arriving on the island of Naxos.199 In such cases it is not possible to distinguish shared origins from later extrapolation. Attempts to establish secure links are ultimately hindered by our inability to reconstruct the mechanisms of transmission over a period of centuries.200

193 194 195 196

197

198 199 200

Hom. Hymn 3. 389–401. Hom. Hymn 3. 480–496. Hom. Hymn 3. 536–539. Hdt. 4. 150–153: the Therans left Korobios on the island while they returned to Thera, and he was only saved by the chance visit from a Samian, who was journeying to Egypt along the north coast of Africa. The Cretan link is also preserved in the so-called ‘Cyrenian version’ (Hdt. 4. 154): the founding figure Battos was from Thera but had a Cretan mother, the princess Phromina from Oaxos. A Cretan element in the population appears to have been preserved: in a later period of difficulty in Cyrene, they again sent to Delphi, and were told to bring in a peacemaker from Mantinea in Arcadia; he came to Cyrene, and divided the people into three tribes: the Therans and dispossessed Libyans were the first; the Peloponnesians and Cretans the second; and the islanders the third (Hdt. 4. 161). See now Osborne 2009: 8–15. Herda 2006b; 2009: 61–62. Cf. Wilamowitz 1906: 74. See p. 6. See Hall 2008: 422.

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The Case of Miletos

We are largely dealing with the oral transmission of tales, which cannot be traced with any accuracy. But there are certain factors that bolster the case for claiming a connection between the archaeological material and later foundation myths of Miletos. The almost continuous settlement at the site dating back to the Bronze Age would create the most credible conditions in which a ‘kernel’ of information about the Minoan period of settlement could be preserved and transmitted across generations.201 Another related factor is the possibility of ritual continuity in the city in the form of the cult of Apollo Delphinios, the primary civic cult at Miletos. The cult is also attested at Dreros in eastern Crete at the end of the eighth century bc ,202 and it has been argued that the arrival of the deity in Miletos could reflect early mobility between the Aegean and coastal Asia Minor.203 T. Wiegend proposed a direct route from Late Bronze Age Crete to Miletos, while F. Graf suggested that the cult could have been transported with the first wave of Ionian settlement in the late Mycenaean/early Geometric period.204 There is no way to speak in specific terms about the origins of the cult, especially in light of its subsequent spread around the Mediterranean, and the original meaning of the epithet Delphinios remains obscure.205 A.  Herda has suggested that it derives from a pre-Hellenic language, but its obvious connection with the Greek word delphis, ‘dolphin’, could also explain its root.206 F. Graf has proposed that the cult may reflect the conflation of a Minoan/Mycenaean god with a later Hellenic, or specifically Dorian, deity.207 The involvement of Cretan sailors in the foundation myth of Delphi as part of the Homeric Hymn might reflect a historical core, whereby Cretans were in some way involved in its early history; equally, it could have arisen later as a result of the similarity of the cult epithets. But the notion that the early appearance of the cult on Crete is connected to its

201 202

203 204

205 206

207

Greaves 2002: 68. Herda 2006a: 276, n. 1953; the Delphinion at Dreros is dated to the late Geometric/early Archaic period (c.700 bc ). Another Delphinion is attested during the Hellenistic period at Hyrtakina (IC 2. 15. 2, l. 18). Cf. Graf 1979: 5ff.; 2008: 88–89, 92–94. A cult of Apollo Delphidios is epigraphically attested at Knossos from the third century bc : IC 1. 8. 8, ll. 12– 13; IC 1. 8. 10 (I. Magnesia 67), l. 8. See also: ID 1512 (IC 1. 8. 12), ll. 45–46; ID 1513 (IC 1. 16. 4), ll. 12–13; ID 1514 (IC 1. 16. 3), l. 17; IC 1. 16. 5, l. 49; IC 4. 182, l. 19. Herda 2006a: 276–277. Wiegend Milet 1. 3: 407; Graf 1979: 19–20; see also Laumonier 1958: 554. Cf. Herda 2006a: 275–277. Cf. Strab. 4. 1. 4, regarding the transfer of the cult to Massalia. Herda 2006a: 275. In a later fragment of Callimachus (Pfeiffer: Fr. 229), the derivation is due to Apollo’s journey from Delos to Oikous on the back of a dolphin, rather than his transmutation. Graf 1979: 20.

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presence in Miletos is attractive. While the subsequent development of the cults would have been independent, the practices associated with the cult in Miletos could have been one mechanism by which certain historical narratives surrounding its origin were transmitted.208 *

*

*

It is important to appreciate the social function of mythologies in the construction of specific narratives, and the following chapters will discuss why Crete continued to be ‘good to think with’ in a Carian context by tracing the reception of the link during the Hellenistic period. But to approach the corpus of myth solely from this perspective is ultimately limiting: historical mythologies offer a version of the past, and it is important to engage with the question of origins and the processes of transmission, even if we cannot offer definitive answers.209 In a Carian context, the correlation between the pattern of Minoan connectivity and the later web of traditions surrounding both the rule of Minos and the mobility of Cretans is significant, and it is possible to postulate a connection between the two. In particular in the case of Miletos, the notion that the later histories and mythologies relating the arrival of settlers from Crete refracted a recollection of Minoan involvement in the area is credible.210 This does not mean that Milesian civic histories are historically accurate accounts of the city’s early history, nor does it negate the continued potential for elaboration; but we do not need to fully endorse the positivist tradition in order to explore the idea that the central theme of interaction with Crete reflects a ‘memory’ of Bronze Age networks of influence. In the process of making sense of their past, the Milesians were transmitting a distant recollection of Cretan influence in the region, in the same way that the traditions surrounding the ‘Ionian migration’ appear to reflect the movement of peoples from the Greek-speaking world into western Anatolia, albeit not in a formal process of colonisation. The hypothesis that the Cretan mythologies of Caria could have initially arisen from a period of significant contact with Bronze Age Crete, involving individuals from the island arriving in western Anatolia, is valid. This ‘memory’ was then transmitted and adapted over time into the form(s) we now possess. The evidence from Miletos is unusual in its detail, but it is instructive as a model, and allows us to profitably consider the mechanisms involved in the transmission of the past in antiquity. 208

209 210

Cf. Connerton 1989: 57: ‘by comparison with myths, the structure of rituals has significantly less potential for variance’. Cf. Vansina 1985: 29. Cf. Sourvinou-Inwood 2005: 298.

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4

Interaction and the Reception of the Cretan Connection during the Hellenistic Period

There were numerous opportunities for contact between Caria and Crete during the Hellenistic period, generated by warfare, trade and intensified diplomatic activity. Reconstructing the details of such interaction is complicated, and we are largely reliant on the epigraphic record to gain an insight into the nature and circumstances of contact between the island and the communities of Caria. While the picture offered is far from complete, it is possible to trace the movement of individuals by tracking awards of proxenia or other honours, private dedications and funerary monuments. Series of decrees issued by Mylasa, Teos and Miletos during the Hellenistic period further record the integration of Crete into the diplomatic networks of western Anatolia. This chapter is focused on such interaction, exploring how mobility affected the reception of the traditional affiliation between the two regions; in the first instance, the patterns of Cretan mobility as revealed by grants of proxenia will be explored.

Tracing Interaction between Caria and Crete The Hellenistic period witnessed a resurgence in the granting of honours by communities, with awards of proxenia bestowed by states to foreign individuals rising markedly; or at least, the desire to record such decisions epigraphically increased.1 The distribution of these awards is testament to the mobility of individuals in the ancient world. They can be used to trace movement to and from Crete, and offer an insight into the communication networks of the Mediterranean.2 The role of the proxenos in the ancient world was to represent the interests of a foreign polis (which had bestowed the honour) within his native city. In return, he was awarded special privileges in the foreign community.3 The value of such a status was in a context of mobility: the proxenos offered assistance to

1 2

124

3

Cf. Reger 2007b: 474. Mack 2015: 2–4. See Mack 2015 for the most recent treatment of this institution. Cf. Gauthier 1985, esp. 134ff.

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Tracing Interaction between Caria and Crete

individuals travelling around the Mediterranean, and facilitated access to his own city, having already forged a relationship with a foreign city himself.4 The proxenia grants that were awarded by the Cretan poleis from the fourth to the first century bc are recorded in Table 1, with their distribution plotted on Maps 6 and 7. While the reconstructed image does not offer a complete overview of travel to the island,5 the widespread dispersal of the grants can be observed: they incorporate much of the Aegean, with an especial concentration in western Anatolia. The geographical scope also extended further east, and individuals from Perge in Pamphylia were named proxenoi of Lappa and Olous during the Hellenistic period;6 an individual from Tarsus was also made proxenos of Knossos.7 The Cretan communities who voted these honours were not limited to the maritime stations along the coast (marked in black on Map 5); for example, the inland poleis of Sybrita and Lappa both made numerous awards.8 Proxenia grants also reveal the travels of Cretans away from the island; for instance, the status was awarded by Iasos to Theodoros from Rhaukos at the end of the fourth/third century bc,9 while another inscription, from Euromos in the third century bc, awarded proxeny to one Euthybios, a Cretan from Sybrita.10 The implication is that Crete was fully integrated into the networks of the Mediterranean during the Hellenistic period. The terms of proxenia decrees were largely formulaic. In the fourth century bc , the award of Maussollos and Artemisia to the Knossians finds them described as benefactors ‘both privately and publicly’ of Maussollos, and they were named as proxenoi and euergetai for all time.11 They were awarded freedom from taxation in Maussollos’ domain and were guaranteed the right to sail freely into and out of the coastal cities of Caria that were under Hekatomnid jurisdiction.12 Similarly, at the end of the third/ 4 5

6 7 8

9 10 11 12

Mack 2015: 1–2. Cf. Archibald 2001: 261–264. Mack 2015: 15 observes that the inscription of proxeny decrees was an additional honour to the grant itself, and thus the inscribed body of evidence is a selective sample of the total number. He estimates that the total number of grants made between c.500 and 1 bc was in the realm of 1.2 million, of which we possess 0.2 per cent. IC 2. 16. 7C; IC 1. 22. 4A, ll. 43–45. IC 1. 8. 12. Sybrita: Le Rider Monnaies 258–259, Epidauros: no. 1; Argos: no. 2; Sidon: no. 3; Mytilene: no. 4; Alabanda: no. 4; Stratonikeia: no. 5. Lappa: Kasos IC 2. 16. 4; Thera IC 2. 16. 5B; Hierapolis IC 2. 16. 7B; Perge (Pamphylia) IC 2. 16. 7C; Alexandria IC 2. 16. 8A. I. Iasos 53. Errington 1993: no. 2; SEG 43. 704. I. Labraunda 40; Hornblower 1982: M7; Rhodes and Osborne 55. I. Labraunda 40, ll. 6–8: ‘They shall also have immunity in as much territory as Maussollos rules, and the right to sail in and out with inviolability and without special treaty’ (εἶναι δὲ καὶ ἀτέλεια̣ν̣ α̣ὐ[τοῖς,]| ὁπόσης Μαύσσωλλος ἄρχει, κα̣ὶ ἔσ̣[π]λ̣ο̣[υν]| καὶ ἔκπλουν ἀσυλὶ καὶ ἀσπονδεί).

125

0

Diktynnaion

20

0

40

10

20

60 30

80 km 40

50 miles

Phalasarna Kisamos

Kydonia

Polyrhenia Keraia

Aptera Apollonia

Rhithymna Kantanos

Hyrtakina

Herakleion

Eleutherna

Elyros

Lappa Tarrha

Anopolis

Sybrita

Axos

Chersonesos

Amnisos

Dreros

Rhaukos

Phoinix Idaean Cave

Phaistos

Erannos

Priansos

Kommos

Rhytion

Lasaia

Kamara Lato

Arkades Malla

Gortyn

Istron Oleros

Priasos Minoa

Biannos

Inatos

Itanos

Olous

Lyttos Lykastos

Rhizenia

Amyklaion

Samonion

Milatos

Knossos

Dragmos Stalai Ampelos

Hierapytna

Lebena Kaudos

Map 5 Crete. Cities that are recorded awarding proxenia between the fourth and first centuries bc are marked in black

Leuke

127

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Tracing Interaction between Caria and Crete

Awards of proxenia made by Cretan cities in the Hellenistic period Awarding State

State of Recipient

Date

Reference

Aptera

Apollonia [Hierapytna] Hyrtakina  Knossos Lyttos Malla Priansos  [Sybrita] Achaia  Aspendos Bithynia (King Prousias II) Herakleia (?) Hermione Hierapolis (Phrygia?) Kos Kythera Lakedaimon Lampsakos (Mysia) Magnesia  Messene Paros Patrai Thrace Teos Teos Aspendos

Hellenistic Hellenistic Hellenistic Hellenistic Hellenistic Hellenistic Hellenistic 2nd century BC 2nd century BC 2nd/1st century BC c. 181-149 BC Hellenistic Hellenistic Hellenistic 2nd century BC 2nd/1st century BC 2nd century BC Hellenistic Hellenistic Hellenistic Hellenistic 2nd century BC Hellenistic c. 170 BC c. 170 BC End 3rd/2nd century BC 2nd century BC 2nd century BC c. 170 BC

IC 2. 3. 11 A IC 2. 3. 8 B IC 2. 3. 14 C IC 2. 3. 11 B IC 2. 3. 14 A IC 2. 3. 7 D IC 2. 3. 8 A IC 2. 3. 5 B IC 2. 3. 6 F IC 2. 3. 12 C IC 2. 3. 4 A IC 2. 3. 11 C IC 2. 3. 7 B IC 2. 3. 9 IC 2. 3. 3 IC 2. 3. 12 A IC 2. 3. 6 D IC 2. 3. 7 A IC 2. 3. 7 C IC 2. 3. 13 B & C IC 2. 3. 10 A IC 2. 3. 6 E IC 2. 3. 15 IC 1. 5. 53 IC 1. 6. 2 BCH 60 (1936): 280 IC 2. 13. 2 IC 2. 13. 1 Rigsby Asylia 155

Arkades Biannos Dreros Elyros Erannos

[Lappa] Taras Teos

(continued)

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Interaction and Reception during the Hellenistic Period

Awards of proxenia made by Cretan cities in the Hellenistic period (continued) Awarding State

State of Recipient

Date

Reference

Gortyn

Apollonia  Axios  Eleutherna Eltynaia Hierapytna Lyttos Priansos Rhaukos [Rhithymnia] Alexandria

3rd/2nd century BC 1st century BC 3rd/2nd century BC 3rd/2nd century BC 1st century BC 3rd/2nd century BC 2nd century BC 3rd/2nd century BC 3rd century BC 2nd century BC 1st century BC 3rd/2nd century BC 2nd century BC 2nd/1st century BC 3rd/2nd century BC 2nd century BC Hellenistic 3rd/2nd century BC 2nd century BC 2nd century BC 3rd/2nd century BC 1st century BC Hellenistic 3rd century BC c. 170 BC 3rd century BC

IC 4. 206 I IC 4. 210 IC 4. 206 F IC 4. 206 G IC 4. 221 A IC 4. 206 C IC 4. 208 D IC 4. 206 L IC 4. 207 IC 4. 208 A IC 4. 215 A IC 4. 206 D IC 4. 208 A IC 4. 212 IC 4. 206 B IC 4. 208 C IC. 4. 209 A IC 4. 206 H IC 4. 208 B IC 4. 208 A IC 4. 206 E IC 4. 218 D IC 4. 211 SEG 38. 906 IC 2. 15. 2 IC 3. 4. 2 & 3

3rd/2nd century BC

IC 1. 8. 10; I.Magnesia 67 IC 1. 8. 12 IC 1. 8. 8 IC 2. 16. 8 A IC 2. 16. 7 B IC 2. 16. 4 IC 2. 16. 9 IC 2. 16. 7 C IC 2. 16. 5 B (continued)

Athens Cyprus Cyrene Ephesos

Hyrtakina Itanos Knossos

Lappa

Halikarnassos  Keos Knidos Lakedaimon Megalopolis [Messene] Ptolemaieia  Samos Teos Macedon (strategos of King Ptolemy) Magnesia-on-theMaeander  Tarsus Teos Alexandria  Hierapolis (?) Kasos  Megalopolis (?) Perge (Pamphylia) Thera

2nd century BC c. 204/3 BC 2nd century BC Hellenistic Hellenistic Hellenistic 2nd century BC 2nd century BC

129

Tracing Interaction between Caria and Crete

129

Awards of proxenia made by Cretan cities in the Hellenistic period (continued) Awarding State

State of Recipient

Date

Reference

Malla

[Knossos] [Lyttos] Aptera Gortyn  Rhithymnia Alexandria Astypalaia  Chalkis Chios Cyrene Kasos Knidos Macedon Messene Perge (Pamphylia) Rhodes Samos Gortyn Chios Lakedaimon Gortyn

2nd century BC 2nd century BC 3rd century BC 3rd century BC 3rd century BC 3rd century BC 2nd century BC 3rd century BC 2nd/1st century BC 3rd century BC Hellenistic 2nd century BC 3rd century BC 3rd century BC 3rd century BC 3rd/2nd century BC 3rd century BC Hellenistic 2nd century BC 2nd century BC Hellenistic

Alabanda

Hellenistic

Argos

Hellenistic

Epidauros

Hellenistic

Mytilene

Hellenistic

Sidon

Hellenistic

Stratonikeia

Hellenistic

Mylasa

3rd/2nd century BC 3rd/2nd century BC Hellenistic

IC 1. 19. 3 IC 1. 19. 3 IC 1. 22. 4 A IC 1. 22. 4 A IC 1. 22. 4 A IC 1. 22. 4 A IC 1. 22. 4 B IC 1. 22. 4 A SEG 23. 549 IC 1. 22. 4 A IC 1. 22. 4 C IC 1. 22. 4 B IC 1. 22. 4 A IC 1. 22. 4 A IC 1. 22. 4 A IC 1. 22. 4 A & B IC 1. 22. 4 A IC 2. 23. 5 IC 2. 23. 4 A IC 2. 23. 4 B Le Rider Monnaies 258-259, 1 Le Rider Monnaies 258-259, 4 Le Rider Monnaies 258-259, 2 Le Rider Monnaies 258-259, 1 Le Rider Monnaies 258-259, 4 Le Rider Monnaies 258-259, 3 Le Rider Monnaies 258-259, 5-6 I.Mylasa 643 I.Mylasa 652 ID 1517

Olous

Polyrhenia

Sybrita

Kretan Koinon

Kos

130

0 0

Interaction and Reception during the Hellenistic Period

50 25

100 50

150 75

200 km

100 miles

Map 6 Distribution of Cretan grants of proxenia in the Aegean

0 0

100

200 100

300 200

400

500 km 300 miles

Map 7 Distribution of Cretan grants of proxenia in the Mediterranean

13

Tracing Interaction between Caria and Crete

beginning of the second century bc , two citizens from Magnesia-on-theMaeander were named proxenoi of Knossos, and parallel privileges were bestowed. The Magnesians were called ‘proxenoi and euergetes of the Knossians’13 and they were given certain entitlements: ἦμεν δὲ καὶ ἔσπλουν κα[ὶ] ἔκπλουν καὶ πολέμω καὶ εἰρήνας αὐτοῖς καὶ ἐγγόνοις καὶ χρήμασι τοῖς τούτων ἀσυλεὶ καὶ ἀσπονδεὶ καὶ κατὰ γᾶν καὶ κατὰ θάλασσαν. And the right to sail into and out of our (ports) either in wartime or in peace for themselves and their descendants and their business with inviolability and without special treaty either by land or by sea.14

The terms of the awards stressed freedom of access to foreign ports; other privileges bestowed include some level of ateleia (freedom from taxation), proedria (front seats at the theatre), politeia or isopoliteia (citizenship) and enktēsis (the right to own land).15 The formalised nature of the terms has led some scholars to question the extent to which such grants were endowed with any practical force.16 In the case of ateleia, a distinction between those grants that were purely honorific and those with a practical function has been made;17 tax exemption for building contractors, for instance, is often classified as an example of the latter.18 However, in practice a community could not differentiate between the legitimacy of different awards; as V. Gabrielsen writes, the formal procedure by which a grant was issued did not have any bearing on the privilege itself.19 Proxenia awards should not be regarded as solely honorific in value. Individuals could take advantage of the various honours bestowed on a proxenos while travelling in the Aegean, whether on diplomatic missions or in a private capacity. The occupation of individuals receiving grants is usually not recorded; though the advantage of an exemption from taxes, and of the right to sail into and out of ports inviolably, could have been 13

14 15 16 17 18

19

IC 1. 8. 10 (I. Magnesia 67) ll. 11–14: Θιογείτονα Σίμω, Ἰοφ[ῶντα Ἰο]|φῶντος Μάγνητας ἀπὸ Μαιάνδρω π[ρο]ξένονς| ἦμεν καὶ εὐεργέτανς Κνωσίων αὐτὸνς καὶ ἐγγό|νος. I. Magnesia 67, ll. 16–19. Μarek 1984: 121ff.; Reger 1994: 72–75; Mack 2015: 105. See discussion of Mack 2015: 4–8, with bibliography. See now Rubinstein 2009: 115ff. Cf. Gauthier 1991. E.g. ID 500 and 502; Rubinstein 2009: 129. Oaths were sometimes sworn by a community to abide by tax exemptions: in the treaty between Miletos and Pidasa (Milet 1. 3. 149) and between Olous and Lato (IC 1. 16. 5). Gabrielsen 2011b: 236. Cf. Rubinstein 2009: 127.

131

132

Interaction and Reception during the Hellenistic Period

in a commercial capacity.20 This aspect remains disputed21 and G.  Reger has concluded in his research on Delos that there is no clear connection between the privilege of ateleia and trade.22 But such grants had the potential to affect the revenues of a state, and were endowed with some economic force.23 W. Mack further notes that it was most likely individuals travelling to take part in economic activities that would be in need of the intermediary services of proxenoi.24 It was the details of the texts, and not just their symbolic value, that gave them their worth. The grant of politeia or isopoliteia alongside proxeny gave the individual the right to participate fully in the civic affairs of a foreign state and settle more permanently away from their native land.25 Whether many proxenoi took advantage of this privilege is not known, though a decree from Kydonia on Crete reveals that certain individuals did use this opportunity to relocate: it records the purchase of land by the city for a group of proxenoi to settle on and cultivate, suggesting their integration into the community.26 While such awards only reveal a fraction of the total volume of interaction with the island in the Hellenistic period, they do offer a valuable insight into the communication networks that incorporated Crete into the Carian sphere. The circumstances of the awards are frequently not elaborated,27 but in certain cases it is possible to reconstruct something about the original reasons behind the presence of proxenoi. Diplomatic interaction, for instance, prompted the awards of proxenia made to envoys from Teos;28 in other cases, artists or entertainers were honoured. At Sybrita, a certain Agathodoros son of Straton, an actor from Sidon, was made proxenos.29 Commercial motivations, whether ‘legitimate’ or as a result of piracy, should also be included as a motivation for interaction; this will be discussed in more detail below. 20 21

22 23

24 25

26 27 28 29

See comments of Archibald 2001: 262–264. Marek 1984: 359 notes that traders form a relatively small group within the corpus of grants of proxenia; grants to soldiers, artists and judges are more frequent. Reger 1994: 72. See Archibald 2001: 264. The formulaic nature of many of the texts was in part due to the constraints of space during inscription, with the priority given to the practical details of the privileges rather than the reasons why the individual was being honoured; see Rubinstein 2009: 120. On the enforcement of such awards, see Bresson 2000: 145–146: he suggests that individuals were issued with papers outlining the details. Cf. Rubinstein 2009: 121–123, on the difficulties of establishing the real significance of hereditary grants. Mack 2015: 63. It appears that isopoliteia was effectively the same as a normal grant of citizenship. Cf. Gauthier 1985: 131ff., 152–154. IC 2. 10. 1, ll. 2–3: τάδε ἐπρίατο ἁ πόλις τοῖς προξένοις | καρπεύειν ἇς κα ἐπιτάδειοι ὦντι. Mack 2015: 13–17. See this chapter, n. 126. Le Rider Monnaies 258, 3e metope; Tzifopoulos 2010: no. 7. A funerary epigram for a Cretan dancer has been found at Miletos: Peek 1971: 215–216, no. 12.

13

Tracing Interaction between Caria and Crete

Warfare further induced mobility, and the presence of foreign troops on Crete appears to have occasioned three grants of proxenia awarded by Sybrita in the second century bc . They were made to officers from Caria: Meleagros son of Artemidoros, hegemon from Alabanda;30 Hierokles son of Menoitos, hegemon from Stratonikeia;31 and another individual whose name has been lost, also from Stratonikeia.32 The presence of Carian soldiers in Sybrita might indicate the installation of a garrison at the site, perhaps connected with Ptolemaic influence; the award of citizenship created the opportunity for their settlement on Crete to be long-lasting.33 Mercenary service further stimulated mobility away from the island, and in antiquity the Cretans were renowned as mercenaries, in particular as archers. Cretans are attested joining various dynastic forces during the Hellenistic period:34 in 220 bc , Cretan mercenaries were in the army of Antiochos III when he faced the rebel satrap Molon,35 while at the Battle of Raphia in 217 bc , there were Cretans in the opposing forces of Antiochos III and Ptolemy IV.36 Indeed, mercenaries played a significant role in the conduct of diplomacy with Crete.37 The activities of the Ptolemies, Antigonids and Attalids on the island were in part directed towards securing access to Cretan military aid and mercenary forces:38 an honorific decree of Aptera awarded an Attalid king and his descendants the right to enrol mercenaries (xenologēsthai) on Apteran territory.39 Treaties concluded between Rhodes and a number of Cretan states also included clauses ensuring military assistance. In an agreement between Rhodes and Hierapytna, the Hierapytnians

30

31

32

33

34 35 36 37 38

39

Le Rider Monnaies 259, 4e metope; Tzifopoulos 2010: no. 3: Μελέαγρος Ἀρτε|μιδώρου Ἀλα|βανδεύς, ἡγε|μών, πρόξενος | καὶ πολίτης Συβρι|τίων, αὑτὸς καὶ ἔκγο|νοι. Le Rider Monnaies 259, 5e metope; Tzifopoulos 2010: no. 5: [Ἱ]εροκλῆς | Μενοίτου τοῦ | Ἰατροκλέους | Στρατονικεύς, | ἡγεμών, πρό|ξενος Συβρι|ντίων καὶ πο[λ]ίτης, | αὐτὸς καὶ ἔκγονοι. Le Rider Monnaies 259, 6e metope; Tzifopoulos 2010: no. 6: Ἀρ. [c. 6–8. Με]|νάν[δρου Στρατο]|νικ[εύς, πρόξε]|νος [καὶ πολίτης] | Συ[βριτίων, αὐ]|τὸ[ς καὶ ἔκγονοι]. Le Rider restored the name in lines 1–2 as Ἀρ[ιστέας Με]|νανδρου. Tzifopoulos 2010: 366; citing private correspondence with A. Chaniotis. Marek 1984: 311ff., argues that the majority of awards of proxenia made by Cretan states were connected to warfare and security, or entertainment; however, an overlap with commercial interests should also be considered. van Eff enterre 1948: 184–194; Brulé 1978, esp. 162–163. Plb. 5. 53. Plb. 5. 79 (‘Cretan’ and ‘Neocretan’ mercenaries are listed); 5. 82. See Willetts 1955: 246–248. Van der Mijnsbrugge 1931: 27ff. Two treaties were concluded between Attalos I and various Cretan states in order to secure access to mercenaries (Ducrey and van Effenterre 1969: Attalos and Lato, 278–280; Attalos and Malla: 281–284; see Ducrey 1970), while a treaty between Eumenes II and the Cretan koinon was concluded in 183 bc (see p. 142). Aptera: IC 2. 3. 4C, ll. 12–13.

133

134

Interaction and Reception during the Hellenistic Period

promised to ‘do everything to assist the Rhodians in recruiting a mercenary army’, should it be required.40 Similar terms are found in the treaty with Olous, where it is stipulated that the Olountians were required to dispatch allied forces to Rhodes on their request.41 Earlier in the third century, King Magas (r. 276–250 bc ) of Cyrene is found concluding an alliance with the Oreioi of Crete, ‘just as with the Gortynians’, to send military forces should either party be threatened.42 The motivation of both the Rhodians and Magas was to secure access to Cretan military forces. The potential for mobility through warfare was not unique to the Hellenistic period; however, the conquests of Alexander, and the subsequent struggles of the Diadochi, witnessed a renewed intensity of military engagements and the multiplication of such opportunities. The Hellenistic kings required a standing army, and the enlarged horizons of their kingdoms created the potential for service abroad on a more permanent basis. New dynastic foundations frequently involved the recruitment of settlers, further generating migration. In Caria, Stratonikeia was founded at some point in the third century bc , and is described by Strabo as ‘a settlement of Macedonians’; though the new polis incorporated a number of pre-existing communities in the vicinity.43 In a number of cases Cretans are attested settling permanently abroad. In the fourth century bc , the settlement of Kretopolis in Pisidia appears to have involved Cretans;44 there are also references to Cretans being involved in the foundation of Antioch by Seleukos I,45 while a community of Cretans is attested in Egypt.46 A series of inscriptions from Miletos, dated 234/3 bc and 229/8 bc , attest to the settlement and enfranchisement of more than one thousand mercenaries in the territory of Hybandis, near Myus.47 The majority of the ethnics recorded 40

41

42 43 44

45 46

47

IC 3. 3. 3A (Austin 113), ll. 44–45: πάντα συνεργούντων εἰς τὸ συντελεσθῆμεν | Ῥοδίοις τὸ ξενολόγιον. SEG 23. 547, ll. 28ff. (van Effenterre 1948: 226–30); it is specified that the Olountian force must be at least 100 free, armed men, while the Rhodians were required to transport the troops to Rhodes from Crete. Cf. Spyridakis 1992: 96–97. IC 2. 17. 1. Strab. 14. 2. 25. Sekunda (1997: 217–223) argues that it was founded by Nearchos the Cretan, who was appointed satrap of Lycia by Alexander in 333 bc ; following an initial suggestion by van Effenterre 1948: 303, n. 3. For the appointment of Nearchos, see Arr. Anab. 3. 6. 6. Cf. Mitchell 1994: 129–136. Libanius, Or. 11. 91. Launey 1987: 1068–1072; cf. 279, n. 2: Launey notes that a ‘quartier crétois’ is attested at Oxyrhynchos during the Imperial period, though he suggests that it may be of Ptolemaic origin. Milet 1. 3. 33–38. See now Chaniotis 2002: 100–101, 105; Launey 1987: 660–664; Brulé 1978: 165–170. Cf. Brulé 1990. The circumstances in which they were settled is not known; A. Rehm (Milet 1. 3: 199) initially suggested that they were engaged by the

135

Tracing Interaction between Caria and Crete

for the settlers are Cretan, and they established themselves in the region with their wives and families. The total number of settlers is estimated at somewhere between three and four thousand.48 The Cretan mercenaries enrolled as citizens at Miletos may be remarkable for the numbers involved, but such a group grant of politeia can be paralleled in other documents. An inscription from Hermione lists the names of forty-three individuals, who appear to have been granted citizenship; the names are all typical of western Crete, and it has been suggested that their presence could be linked with the employment of Cretan mercenaries on both sides in the Social War, 220–217 bc .49 Similarly, a decree from Dyme in Achaia granted citizenship to fifty-two men for their contribution to the defense of the city;50 in other instances, grants of citizenship were made after a dokimasia (examination), as at Phalanna in Thessaly in the second half of the third century bc .51 Mercenaries did not have to be enlisted to travel away from their homeland, and they could seek employment independently around the Mediterranean.52 When serving abroad, there was always the potential for soldiers to settle on a more permanent basis, whether as part of a group settlement, as at Kretopolis and perhaps at Myus, or on an individual basis. In the Milesian case, it appears that the mercenaries had already been settled in Caria for a period before their enfranchisement. R. Hitchman has noted the frequency of names that have strong connections with Caria amongst the Cretan settlers and their families at Myus, and suggests that this indicates the intermarriage of the Cretan settlers with local women.53 The inscriptions from Dyme and Phalanna have also been interpreted as the legitimation of the status of individuals already resident in the region.54 Cases of multiple citizenships became increasingly frequent during the Hellenistic period, and were not limited to soldiers. An inscription from Ephesos, dated

48 49 50 51 52

53

54

Milesians to face the threat of Antigonos Doson in his Carian campaign of 227 bc ; Launey (1987: 661) proposed that they were employed in the face of the hostilities from Attalos I, Antiochos Hierax and the Gauls. Estimate of A. Rehm in his commentary, Milet 1. 3: 196–202. IG 4. 729; cf. Launey 1987: 659–660; Plb. 4. 55. Achaïe 3. 4. IG 9. 2. 1228. Chaniotis (2005: 92) has drawn attention to the apergoi, unemployed mercenaries, mentioned as potential violators of order in the sanctuary of Hera on Samos: IG 12. 6. 169. Hitchman 2010: he points to the appearance of possibly Carian names among the women named in the Milesian inscriptions, including Ἀβάς, Ἄρτεμις, Ἀρτεμισία, Μηνιάς, Μητροδώρα and Νάννιον. He also connects the appearance of Carian names on Crete with Milesian emigrants who returned to Crete (53–58). Marchand 2010: 341–342.

135

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Interaction and Reception during the Hellenistic Period

to the second century bc, records the award of citizenship to a certain Athenodoros son of Semon; he had been victorious in the boys’ boxing contest at the Nemean games, and subsequently the Ephesians voted that he was ‘to be an Ephesian, as he was proclaimed in the contest’.55 It is not known where Athenodoros originated, yet he is described as ‘dwelling in Ephesos’.56 It seems that the official grant of citizenship was made after Athenodoros had declared himself to be an Ephesian at the games; the Ephesians likely endorsed his claim due to the glory that his athletic victory bestowed upon the city. Itinerant athletes, poets, musicians and artisans all found employment away from their native lands, whether permanent or temporary; the trade in slaves further stimulated the movement of individuals, albeit forced. The reputations of specialised professionals, such as doctors, often spread beyond their polis, also encouraging their mobility in regional networks. In the fourth century bc, it is recorded that the Koan doctor Dexippos was employed by Hekatomnos to cure his sons Maussollos and Pixodaros,57 while during the third century bc another doctor from Kos, Hermias, is attested both in Crete and Halikarnassos.58 Individuals could further seek advancement through employment in Hellenistic royal bureaucracy. Zenon of Kaunos moved to Egypt in the third century bc and served as secretary of Apollonios, the finance minister to Ptolemy II and Ptolemy III. Zenon’s predecessor, Panakestor, was a Carian from Kalynda,59 while Zenon’s brothers were also employed in his circle;60 it has been suggested that Apollonios himself may have originally come from Caria.61 During his time in Egypt, 55 56

57 58

59 60 61

I. Ephesos 1415 ll. 8–9: εἶναι Ἀθηνόδωρον | [Σήμον]ος Ἐφέσιογ καθάπερ ἀνήγγελται ἐν τῶι ἀγῶνι. I. Ephesos 1415 ll. 2–3: Ἀθηνόδωρος Σήμονος ἰσοτελὴς ὢγ καὶ κ̣α̣τοι|[κῶν] ἐν Ἐφέσωι. Dual citizenship among victors can be paralleled elsewhere, as in the case of the tragic poet Asklepiades, son of Ikesios, who was named as a Theban in the list of victors at the Sarapeia of Tanagra, but was listed as an Athenian during the prize-giving ceremony (IG 7. 540 plus SEG 19. 335, l. 12; 18; cf. SEG 25. 501). In the same document, Metrodoros, son of Dionysios, is listed as a Smyrnaian for his second place in the kithara contest at the same Sarapaia (ll. 30– 31), while in the lists of victors at the Amphiaraia at Oropos he is named as a Nikomedian (IG 7. 419, l. 22). Cf. Strasser 2004: 152–153. Suda δ 238 (Adler), s.v. Δέξιππος. Crete (Gortyn: IC 4. 168; Knossos: IC 1. 8. 7); Halikarnassos: Iscr. di Cos ED 132. Cf. Chaniotis 2005: 97. Another Koan, Dion son of Diodoros, was awarded proxenia by the Plataseis in the late fourth century bc ; the decision is recorded in I. Labraunda 42, in which Diokles, the son of Dion, was awarded exemption from public burdens in accordance with his father’s privileges. Cf. Benedum 1977, concerning honorary inscriptions for doctors discovered on Kos, and the discussion of Robert 1989. PSI 509. P. Lond. VII 2033; P.Cair.Zen. 59341 b and c. Cf. Wörrle 1977: 64–65. Wörrle 1977: 63, with n. 110; cf. Edgar 1931: 16. See also Clarysse 1980: 105–106; Thompson 1988: 95.

137

The Cretan Decrees from Mylasa

Zenon maintained connections with his native town, and one letter in the archive records an appeal made by three Kaunians to Zenon, asking for his advocacy in approaching Apollonios.62 Such opportunities for advancement were not unique to the Hellenistic period; in the fourth century bc, Nearchos the Cretan served under Alexander,63 while the presence of Olophernes the Persian on Kos seems to be related to his employment by the Hekatomnid satraps.64 When reconstructing the communication networks of the ancient world, the division between ‘official’, state-sanctioned travel and that undertaken by individuals in a private capacity should not be drawn too distinctly. Representatives sent on a state delegation to a city were often awarded proxenia and the right to own land in the awarding state, creating the opportunity to establish lasting ties and even settle there; the situation was similar with foreign judges called in to adjudicate in disputes between states.65 An overlap between individuals pursuing diplomatic and private interests should be expected. The relationship between individuals awarded proxenia and foreign cities led to reciprocal ties, and created the opportunity for further links to be forged. Similarly, the travels of individuals in a private capacity, whether commercial or otherwise, would have opened up communication networks, which could subsequently have had an impact on diplomatic relations. Attention will now turn to a significant collection of decrees voted by a number of cities on Crete for the city of Mylasa, which were inscribed by the Mylaseis during the Hellenistic period.66 They reveal the existence of diplomatic ties between the Mylaseis and the poleis of Crete, and serve as a useful basis from which to explore the wider historical context of Carian– Cretan relations during this period.

The Cretan Decrees from Mylasa Mylasa served as a regional centre in southwestern Anatolia; it was the native city of the Hekatomnid dynasty, and the temple of Zeus Karios was

62 63 64 65 66

P.Col.Zen. 1. 11; Bagnall and Derow no. 89. See this chapter, n. 44. Robert 1963: 516, n. 1; Hornblower 1982: 134. See Robert 1973; Crowther 1995. I. Mylasa nos. 641–659; Blümel 1989: no. 660; 1992a: nos. 660–663; Rigsby Asylia nos. 187– 209. Mylasan delegates were apparently sent to the island: I. Mylasa 643, l. 8; 644, l. 7; 662, l. 4–5, 13. This series is treated in greater detail in Carless Unwin (2016).

137

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Interaction and Reception during the Hellenistic Period

located there.67 Even after the dynastic capital was moved by Maussollos to Halikarnassos, Mylasa remained an important city in the region, and Strabo described it as one of three noteworthy cities in the Carian interior.68 The incorporation of coastal ports into the city’s territory and its involvement in interstate affairs during the Hellenistic period further indicate that it was far from inward looking in its ambition.69 Twenty-three inscriptions survive from the Cretan series (Appendix 2).70 A number of the texts seem to have been inscribed in a similar period,71 suggesting that they were voted at approximately the same time by different cities of Crete.72 Unfortunately they are very fragmentary, and it is not clear what form of decree is being recorded: W. Blümel, in Die Inschriften von Mylasa, categorised them as ‘Symmachieverträge und Asyliedekrete’,73 but there are no clear indications that they should be classified as either. In the entire series there is just one reference to asylia (I. Mylasa 646, l. 8.) and one to symmachos (I. Mylasa 651, l. 10).74 Any interpretation of this series of decrees needs to be rooted in its historical context; why the Mylaseis sought to establish relations with the cities of Crete (or vice versa) at this time, and what they hoped to achieve. The decrees were inscribed side by side, on architectural blocks that have been described as either marble or limestone.75 The difference 67 68

69

70 71 72

73 74

75

Strab. 14. 2. 23. On Zeus Karios, see Debord 2001: 31–34. Alongside Stratonikeia and Alabanda (14. 2. 22). The efforts of the city to secure access to a harbour (see this chapter, n. 69) further suggest that Mylasa served as a commercial centre. A fragment of Menander, The Sicyonian (ll. 3–15; Austin 104) should also be read in this context; it describes the capture of a group of people by pirates: ‘the child and the slave they took to Mylasa in Caria and there offered them for sale in the market’. Strabo wrote that Physkos was the port (ἐπίνειον) of Mylasa, where ‘the city is nearest to the sea’ (14. 2. 23). In the sixth century ad, Stephanus of Byzantium recorded that Passala was the port of Mylasa (Steph. Byz. s.v. Πάσσαλα), which appears to be confirmed by two inscriptions dated to the fifth century ad that refer to harbour taxes levied at Passala by Mylasa (I. Mylasa 611–612). Passala is identified with Sakız, a site to the south of Bodrum airport: Delrieux 2008: 275–276; Reger 2010: 45–46; van Bremen 2013: 17–18. Cf. Bresson 2010: 450–451. It seems assured the Mylaseis had long secured their possession of a port. See this chapter, n. 66. See the discussion of letter forms below. There are a few references to specific Cretan cities in the Mylasan inscriptions: I. Mylasa 642, l. 5: [Γορτ]υνίος καὶ [Κν]οσίος; I. Mylasa 654, l. 5: ἁμὲν καὶ Κνώσιοι; I. Mylasa 663, l. 6: [Λ]αππαίων. Blümel I. Mylasa: p. 241. Rigsby included them in his Asylia volume (p. 407), though he acknowledged that such an identification was insecure: ‘they may well be military alliances and not declarations of inviolability’. Brulé 1978: 74, and Curty 1995: 162, also suggest that the texts record grants of asylia. Inscriptions which share blocks: 644 and 645; 646 and 647; 648, 649 and 650; 651 and 652; 660 and 663; 661 and 662. Marble blocks: 651 and 652, 654, 661 and 662, 660 and 663; limestone

139

139

The Cretan Decrees from Mylasa

Labraunda Didyma

GR

IO

Euromos

N

M S

. Hydai Iasos

AG˘ AD DR SO

Chalketor

Olymos

ı Çay ar

Stratonikeia

Mylasa Sinuri

Panamara

Passala Little Sea

Bargylia

Kindye Hydissos

Pladasa Myndos Halikarnassos

Theangela

Keramos

Ouranion

0 0

5 2

10 4

6

Map 8 The region around Mylasa and the ‘Little Sea’

in stone might indicate that the blocks come from separate buildings; another alternative is that different materials were used in the same structure.76 The apparent grouping of the texts in the process of inscription suggests that in their original location they formed part of a collection of decrees that adorned (a) building(s), and recorded some aspect of the city’s relations with Crete.77 The collective inscription of civic decrees on the walls of temples or other public buildings was a common practice in the ancient world, and there are many preserved instances in the cities

76

77

blocks: 653, 657, 659; ‘bläulicher stein’: 658. The material of the blocks has not always been recorded. As in the west stoa at the agora of Magnesia-on-the-Maeander : the documents regarding the Leukophryena (see this chapter, n. 225) were inscribed on the lower, marble courses of the wall. Different types of marble were also used in the sanctuary on Kos, on which various decrees were inscribed; see Rigsby Asylia 111. Another possibility is that the materials of certain blocks were mistaken on discovery; it is often difficult to distinguish the appearance of worn marble from limestone. The measurements of the blocks vary: the limestone blocks are all c.21 cm in height, as are 644/645, 646/647 and 658; marble blocks 654 and 660/663 are 26 and 27 cm respectively, while 651/652, 655 and 661/662 vary between 41 and 43 cm. Cf. Curty 1995: 162.

15 8

10

20 km 12 miles

140

Interaction and Reception during the Hellenistic Period

of Anatolia during the Hellenistic period and later. In particular, the Mylasan collection is comparable to a series of Cretan decrees granting asylia to Teos, which were inscribed on the wall of the temple of Dionysos in the late third century bc .78 As the stones were not discovered in secure archaeological contexts, the location and nature of the building on which the Cretan series was inscribed cannot be definitively established;79 however, it can be proposed that they originally belonged to the sanctuary of Zenoposeidon in Mylasa. I. Mylasa 652 includes the clause that the decrees should be deposited by the Mylaseis in the sanctuaries of both Zenoposeidon and Zeus Labraundos.80 The cult of Zenoposeidon appears to have been associated with that of Zeus Osogō/Osogōllis, the primary civic deity of Mylasa:81 a series of inscriptions make reference to a priesthood of Zeus Osogōllis Zenoposeidon.82 Zeus Osogō was depicted on the coinage of the Hekatomnids (Figure 2), and continued to feature on civic coin types of Mylasa in the third century bc; he is shown with a trident, again suggesting a maritime association and affiliation with the cult of Zenoposeidon.83 A number of Hellenistic Mylasan documents stipulated that they should be displayed in the temples of both Zeus Osogō and Zeus Labraundos;84 the pairing in the Cretan documents should be regarded as the same, with Zenoposeidon perhaps the Hellenic rendering of the Carian deity Osogō.85

78 79

80

81 82

83

84 85

See this chapter, n. 134; this series will be discussed below. Many had been reused in houses; Blümel I. Mylasa: p. 244, notes that nos. 643, 644/645, 646/ 647 were all found in the same house by Ph. Le Bas. I. Mylasa 652, ll. 9–12: τὸ ψάφισμα τόδε παρὰ μὲν ἁ̣[μὶν ἐς τῶι ἱαρῶι τῶ]| Ἀπέλλωνος Πυτίο, παρὰ δὲ [Μυλασεῦσι – ]|αὐτῶν ἔς τε τῶ Ζανοποτε[ιδᾶνος καὶ τῶ Διὸς]| τῶ Λαβραύνδω. There is perhaps a similar clause in I. Mylasa 655, ll. 13–14. Strab. 14. 2. 23. Cf. Debord 2001: 21–24. I. Mylasa 319–325, 327; see Blümel 1990: 34. The temple of Zeus Osogō has been identified as a structure on the western border of the city, at the foot of Sodra Dağ, though little now remains; see Laumonier 1933: 36f.; 1958: 105. Delrieux 1999. Pausanias (8. 10. 4) recorded a legend about sea-water rising up in the sanctuary of Zeus Osogōa, despite there being a distance of eight stades from Mylasa to the sea. Theophrastus (second half of the fourth/early third century bc ), quoted in Athenaeus (2. 42 a), records that there was a river in Caria by the temple of Zenoposeidon that was brackish; the reason offered is that many lightning bolts fall in the region. A fragment of the third century comic poet Machon, also preserved in Athenaeus (8. 337 c-d), refers to a shrine of Zenoposeidon, possibly at Mylasa. See I. Labraunda 8b, ll. 24–26; Milet 1. 3. 146a, ll. 18–20; 146b, ll. 72–73. Laumonier 1958: 103.

14

The Cretan Decrees from Mylasa

The date of the Mylasan inscriptions is far from certain: W. Blümel placed them broadly in the second century bc , although he did not attempt any greater precision within this period.86 There are no clear internal indicators in the decrees to help establish their context; the only diagnostic feature is the use of the term Κρηταιεῖς to refer to the Cretans collectively, instead of Κρῆτες.87 This form of plural was an institutional term, indicating that the Mylasan decrees were passed during an active period of the Cretan koinon.88 The koinon was a league of independent Cretan poleis instituted during the Hellenistic period,89 though not all Cretan cities were counted as members. Details of how it functioned, and the periods at which it was active, are scarce, though its successful functioning appears to have depended on the cooperation between Knossos and Gortyn, the two main cities.90 There is no evidence for federal citizenship,91 but a council (synedrion) and a general assembly are attested.92 The koinon is known to have been active in c.217 bc , when Philip V was named as prostatēs (president),93 but its history was characterised by 86

87

88

89 90 91

92

93

This date was accepted by Marek (1984: 307–308); Brulé (1978: 74–75) and Chaniotis (1996: 44) suggested a date in the first half of the second century bc ; H.-U. Wiemer (2002: 349–351) discussed them in the context of the Second Cretan War, settling on a date soon after the liberation of Caria from Rhodian domination in 167 bc . The Teian decrees make virtually no reference to the Cretans collectively, with the exception of Rigsby Asylia no. 159, l. 10, l. 28; this might suggest that the Mylasan series is not precisely contemporary with the Teian. Ph. Gauthier and G. Rougemont BE 1990: n. 21; Chaniotis 1999c: 290. The ethnic plural Κρηταιεῖς was used by Polybius in reference to the league; see, e.g. 22. 15. 2. Epigraphic references to the league as a koinon are found: I. Magnesia 20, l. 1; 46, l. 11; FD 3. 2. 135, II. 5; ID 1517, l. 2 (mid second century bc ); IG 12. 1. 77, l. 6 (Imperial). References to πάντες Κρηταιεῖς are also thought to refer to the koinon. The earliest attestation of the ethnic Κρηταιεῖς is in 267 bc (Chaniotis 1996: 30–31; 1999c: 295). Van Effenterre 1948: 150; Chaniotis 1999c: 290, 294. Van der Mijnsbrugge 1931: 33. Cf. Brulé 1978: 85–86, who argues in favour of κοινοπολιτεία. There was also an institution known as the κοινοδίκιον (IC 4. 197, l. 24), which has been variously interpreted as some form of federal court (Guarducci IC 4: 278; Gauthier 1972: 316ff., esp. 323–324), or as an accepted code of rules (van der Mijnsbrugge 1931: 35–51; Willetts 1955: 232–233), or a more general term to refer to a joint court to which judges were appointed from two or more poleis (van Effenterre 1948: 145–150). There was an institution for judicial problems that arose between the cities, laid out in a diagramma, which suggests an agreement between the states on how to deal with disputes (van der Mijnsbrugge 1931: 51; Chaniotis 1999c: 290). For a summary of the evidence, see Ager 1994; Chaniotis 1999c. For a wider discussion of the Cretan koinon, see van der Mijnsbrugge 1931; Willetts 1955: 225–234; Spyridakis 1970: 89–92; Chaniotis 1996: 30ff.; 1999c. Plb. 7. 11. 9: ‘All the Cretans united and entering into one confederacy elected Philip president of the whole island, this being accomplished without any appeal to arms or violence, a thing of which it would be difficult to find a previous instance.’ (τὸ πάντας Κρηταιεῖς συμφρονήσαντας καὶ τῆς αὐτῆς μετασχόντας συμμαχίας ἕνα προστάτην ἑλέσθαι τῆς νήσου Φίλιππον, καὶ ταῦτα συντελεσθῆναι χωρὶς ὅπλων καὶ κινδύνων, ὃ πρότερον οὐ ῥᾳδίως ἂν εὕροι τις γεγονός.)

141

142

Interaction and Reception during the Hellenistic Period

instability. The koinon appears to have broken down by the First Cretan War (205–200 bc ), when we find Knossos leading an alliance of Cretan cities (in association with Rhodes) against Philip V and his association of Cretan allies (including Olous and Hierapytna).94 The league appears to have been reinstituted after Rome dispatched Appius Claudius to Crete in 183 bc to settle the ongoing disputes on the island between Knossos and Gortyn;95 in the same year, Eumenes II concluded a treaty with the Krētaieis.96 But the inner workings of the koinon are only revealed through partial glimpses, and thus the reference to the Krētaieis in the Mylasan dossier is not enough in itself to date the documents. It is possible to suggest a more precise historical background for the Mylasan decrees through an examination of the letter forms. Dating on this basis is far from precise, and there is no consensus on the accuracy of the criteria; the styles of individual inscribers always affected palaeography, and localism in letter forms should be expected. But it remains possible to identify broad trends in Hellenistic epigraphy that can help to illuminate the context of the Cretan series.97 With the exception of two (I. Mylasa 655 and 657), all the Mylasan texts (where analysis has been possible) share certain characteristics: the straight-barred alpha, the short right hasta of the nu, the unequal pi, the divergent sigma and the lunate phi.98 A number of the texts appear to have been inscribed at the same time, with well-spaced letters all cut with serifs.99 The hands of other engravers can be identified; I. Mylasa 661 and 662 (Figure 6), for instance, were inscribed on the same block, but appear to have been cut by separate hands.100 However, despite such stylistic differences, the similarities between the inscriptions are also notable, and they do not appear to have been inscribed at widely different periods. I. Mylasa 655 and 657 contain letter forms that are different to the other Cretan texts: the alpha has a rounded bar, there is a development towards a more parallel sigma and the pi no longer has an overhanging arm (Figure 7). A similar date can be proposed for these two Cretan decrees, and based 94 95

96

97

98 99 100

See below, pp. 154–155. Plb. 22. 15. 1–4; Appius Claudius spoke in both Knossos and Gortyn, and the Cretans (Κρηταιεῖς) agreed to put their affairs into his hands. IC 4. 179; the thirty-one member states were listed individually. Cf. Van der Mijnsbrugge 1931: 23–26. It has been possible to examine the letter forms of fourteen of the texts, both through analysis of the squeezes at the Fonds Louis Robert in Paris, and photographs of the stones by Prof. W. Blümel. Letter height varies between 1.1 and 2.0 cm. I. Mylasa 643, 644, 645, 646, 647, 648, 649, 650; possibly 660 and 662. I. Mylasa 661 is particularly distinctive, notably in the omicron that floats above the line, and the flat and wide omega; unlike others in the series, the pi does not have an overhanging arm.

143

The Cretan Decrees from Mylasa

Figure 6 Marble block inscribed with I. Mylasa 661 and 662

on palaeography, they appear to have been inscribed at a later date than the other texts. The evidence of letter forms thus appears to indicate that the Cretan series from Mylasa were inscribed in two, or perhaps three, phases. The general development in letter forms over the Hellenistic period witnessed a move towards the parallel sigma and the mu, equal arms on the nu and the pi and towards the broken-bar alpha; the Cretan decrees predate many of these changes. However, establishing a precise date remains difficult: the date at which this transition of letter forms occurred cannot be determined precisely, and there are few securely dated texts within the Mylasan epigraphic corpus to help determine an absolute chronology. Recent research has been carried out on the land lease documents of Mylasa, which record the sale of tracts of land in the vicinity of the city to

143

144

Interaction and Reception during the Hellenistic Period

Figure 7 Fragment of a block inscribed with I. Mylasa 657

different sanctuaries, and its subsequent leasing, in many cases date back to the previous owner on a long-term basis.101 The palaeography of the inscriptions covers various stages of development, and it is possible to establish an internal chronology of the texts on prosopographical grounds.102 They were dated by Blümel to the second century bc , and have traditionally been placed in the mid-to-late part of this century; however, this was challenged by G. Reger and R. Ashton, who sought to push their date back to earlier in the century, beginning before c.185 bc . They based their argument on a possible correspondence between the texts and numismatic evidence, in particular the appearance of a new Rhodian plinthophoros in the 180s bc .103 R. Descat and I. Pernin also approached the land lease documents,

101 102 103

See Reger and Ashton 2006: 125–126. See Pernin 2014: 406–408. Reger and Ashton 2006: 127–128; for a list of the documents see 126, n. 2. Their argument was based on the references to ‘light Rhodian money’ (ἀργύριον Ῥόδιον λεπτόν), as opposed to simply ‘money’ (ἀργύριον), which occur in some of the texts; they related this to the appearance of the new Rhodian plinthophoros that was introduced at some point during the

145

The Cretan Decrees from Mylasa

and sought to establish the chronology of Mylasan letter forms on stylistic grounds;104 again, they established a case for a transition in letter forms in the 180s bc .105 Despite this apparent consensus, the task of dating the inscriptions of Mylasa with any precision on the basis of palaeography remains unresolved.106 I. Pernin has more recently questioned her earlier dating of the land lease texts, and tentatively endorsed a date in the second half of the second/early first century bc , as had initially been suggested.107 Such problems apply equally to the Mylasan ‘Cretan dossier’, and it is not possible to establish with any certainty when the stylistic shift in letter forms occurred at Mylasa. Greater insight can be offered through comparison with other, securely dated inscriptions from Caria. At Euromos, two inscriptions can be dated with certainty to the end of the third/beginning of the second century bc : one records a decree honouring the Macedonian Alexandros son of Admetos, philos of Philip V, which appears to be connected to the king’s Carian campaign of 201 bc ;108 another records an alliance with Antiochos

104

105

106 107

108

180s bc , and perhaps as early as c. 190 bc ; thus the references to ‘light Rhodian money’ in the texts seem to refer to a period after the reforms. Descat and Pernin 2008. They attempted to establish a chronology for the evolution of the script from what they term ‘l’écriture ancienne’ (broadly speaking straight-barred alpha, divergent sigma and mu, unequal pi and nu, and small omicron, omega and theta) to ‘l’écriture récente’ (broken-barred alpha, parallel sigma and mu, equal pi and nu). Descat and Pernin (2008: 294) pointed to I. Mylasa 217B (Blümel 1992a: 6–7) as a transitional text: the bar of the alpha is sometimes straight, sometimes rounded, the omega has a bar, the arms of the sigma are parallel and the omicron is almost full sized. They attempted to date I. Mylasa 217B by the appearance of a certain Iason, son of Dionysios: they speculated that his father was the same Dionysios that appears as one of the Mylasan ambassadors (l. 7) in an isopoliteia treaty with Miletos (Milet 1. 3. 146a; I. Mylasa T51, l. 90: Διονύσιος Ἰάσονος τοῦ Διονυσίου). Based on the Milesian stephanephoroi lists, this isopoliteia treaty can be securely dated to 215/14 bc : the Milesian stephanephoros Ἀσκληπιάδης mentioned in the treaty is included in the stephanephoroi lists of Miletos (Milet 1. 3. 124, l. 24). Descat and Pernin thus suggested that I. Mylasa 217B could be dated within a generation or less of this treaty; though they did not take into consideration the redating of the stephanephoroi lists by Wörrle (1988: esp. 428–448) and dated the treaty to 209/8 bc ; cf. Errington 1989; Sherk 1992: 229–232. See P. Hamon, BE 2009: no. 458. Pernin (2014: 411) notes that the terminology employed to refer to payments was not always consistent in documents. She also questions the link she had previously established between I. Mylasa 217B and the treaty with Miletos (see this chapter, n. 105). Her reassessment, however, appears to rely on a prosopographical link between I. Mylasa 217B and I. Mylasa 102, which is itself not securely dated: Pernin accepts the date proposed by W. Blümel for I. Mylasa 102 in the late second/early first century bc , though there are no clear diagnostic features in the text. The decree honours Moschion, priest of Zeus Kretagenes and the Kouretes; other attestations of this priesthood date to the end of the third/early second century bc . See Chapter 5, n. 20. Errington 1993: no. 4; SEG 43. 706. Philip V renamed the city after himself; see below.

145

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Interaction and Reception during the Hellenistic Period

III that was passed in August/September 197 bc .109 The letter forms of both texts share certain general characteristics with I. Mylasa 655 and 657, notably the rounded bar of the alpha. Another text is inscribed directly above these two inscriptions, which has been dated to the mid-third century bc , and exhibits marked differences in letter forms, most noticeably the straight-barred alpha;110 the shift towards the broken-barred alpha at Euromos thus appears to date to the early stages of the second century bc . Epigraphic developments in Mylasa should not be presumed to be identical to Euromos, and local trends can be identified. At Iasos, the straightbarred alpha continues in use into the early stages of the second century bc ; it is attested in I. Iasos 4, securely dated to 196/5–195/4 bc .111 At Stratonikeia, on the other hand, a decree dated to 198 bc contains an alpha sometimes with a curved-bar, sometimes straight-bar; the nu is also uneven.112 Such brief observations are far from exhaustive, and reveal the limitations of our source material; they further reveal the high degree of localism in regional epigraphy. However, it is notable that palaeographic habits across the region generally support a date for the transition in letter forms to the early stages of the second century bc . The script of the majority of the Mylasan Cretan series appears to predate this stylistic transition. A further comparison can be drawn with the series of texts from Labraunda, recording the correspondence between Mylasa, the local dynast Olympichos and the kings Seleukos II and Philip V. They date to a period between c.240 and c.220 bc , and their letter forms share many characteristics with the Mylasan series: they are evenly spaced, with the straight-barred alpha, the uneven nu and the overhanging arm of the pi. While it remains impossible to speak with any certainty, a similar chronology for the ‘Cretan dossier’ and the Labraundan series can be proposed;113 both can be dated to the later stages of the third century bc .114 109

110 111

112 113

114

Errington 1986; SEG 36. 973; Ma 1999: no. 29. Both the Mylasan series and the inscriptions from Euromos share the lunate phi, which is common in the region during this period. Errington 1993: no. 3; SEG 43. 705. Crowther 1995: 106–107, notes that the transition to the broken-barred alpha occurs rather abruptly at Iasos; he dates this development to after the Peace of Apameia in 189/8 bc . On the palaeography of Iasos, see also Fabiani 2015a: 129ff. I. Stratonikeia 4; a photograph of the squeeze has been examined. Further endorsement for a third-century date may be offered by the references to dynastai in three of the texts: I. Mylasa 643, l. 9; 644, l. 8; 662, l. 6. Other Hellenistic texts refer to dynastai: I. Smyrna 573 I, ll. 11–12 (Austin 174); IC 3. 3. 3. A, ll. 65–66. The identity of the dynasts is not specified, though Olympichos would be a likely candidate in Caria. See Kobes 1996: 63– 67; cf. Billows 1989. Cf. Laumonier 1958: 103 and n. 3; he dates I. Mylasa 652 to the end of the third century, although he does not state on what basis.

147

The Cretan Decrees from Mylasa

There are a number of clues in the fragmentary inscriptions that can help to illuminate the nature of the relationship between Mylasa and the island. For instance, the antiquity of the good relations between Mylasa and Crete was emphasised, with the Mylaseis described as ‘kinsmen’ dia progonōn of the Cretans: ἐπε[ιδὴ Μυλασέεν ὑπάρχοντες] συγγενίεν καὶ φίλοι δ̣[ιὰ προγόνων τᾶς ἁμᾶς πόλιος] καὶ τῶν ἄλλων Κρητα[ιέων –].115 Since [the Mylaseis] are kinsmen and friends [through their ancestors of our city] and of the other Cretans.116

Claims of syngeneia were a common feature of diplomacy in the ancient world,117 and the invocation of ancient affiliations served to give current associations greater authority. The claim of syngeneia in the Mylasan dossier evokes the historical links between Caria and Crete as a means of reinforcing their diplomatic ties. The inscriptions also appear to cite more recent actions; references to philanthrōpa and eunoia, and ‘conferring a benefit to the island’118 suggest that the Cretans were referring to Mylasan assistance or goodwill. Other allusions to the ‘war of all Cretans’ and ‘our war’119 could suggest that this was in a military context; although references to homonoia and the ‘common peace’120 might indicate that the conflict had been resolved, and that previous Mylasan aid was being cited to reinforce their current diplomatic relations. Mylasan assistance may have been provided in the form of arbitration, a role that Magnesia-on-the-Maeander is known to have taken on the island in the Hellenistic period. In I. Magnesia 46, the Magnesians refer to the aid they gave the Cretans in their ‘civil war’ (τὸν ἐμφύλιον πόλεμον),121 which can most likely be identified as the Lyttian War of 221 to 219 bc .122

115 116

117 118 119

120 121

122

The restorations are assured through comparison with I. Mylasa 649, ll. 1–4. I. Mylasa 650, ll. 2–4. Other references to kinship: I. Mylasa 641, l. 5; 646, l. 6; 649, ll. 2–4; 660, ll. 8–10. The language of kinship is discussed in greater depth below. I. Mylasa 657, l. 3; 650, l. 14; 651, ll. 16–17: συμφερόντων τᾶι νά|[σωι]. I. Mylasa 650, ll. 7–8: [πό]|λεμος Κρηταιέων πά[ντων]; 651, l. 13: [πόλ]εμον ἦμεν. Other references to a conflict: I. Mylasa 642, l. 11; 654, l. 3; 658, l. 6. I. Mylasa 658, l. 5; 650, l. 6: τᾶς κοινᾶς εἰρ[ήνας]. I. Magnesia 46, ll. 10–12 (Ager Interstate Arbitration no. 58 I; Magnetto Arbitrati no. 53). In the second century bc , the Magnesians also mediated between Gortyn and Knossos (I. Magnesia 65 a and b; IC 1. 4. 176; Ager Interstate Arbitrations no. 127; Magnetto Arbitrati no. 43), and between Hierapytna and Itanos (I. Magnesia 105 a and b; IC 3. 4. 9; Ager Interstate Arbitrations no. 158). See this chapter, n. 154. The ‘civil war’ was an event of international renown: the role of Magnesia in its resolution was regarded as of panhellenic benefit, on a par with the help they

147

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Interaction and Reception during the Hellenistic Period

The Mylaseis were honoured by the Cretans in the decrees. It is stipulated that the Cretans will ‘show favour to the Mylaseis’,123 while I. Mylasa 650 includes the terms ‘to praise the demos of Mylasa and crown it’.124 In I. Mylasa 643, the status of proxenos and euergetēs is conferred, although the name of the recipient does not survive.125 It was common practice in antiquity for envoys to be honoured in the states they visited; as noted above, the Teian delegates sent to Crete were proclaimed proxenoi by a number of the states.126 The award of proxenia could thus have been made to one of the Mylasan envoys for his services and good conduct on his visit to Crete; however, as proxenos is singular, not all of the envoys appear to have been honoured in this way.127 The Mylasan dossier also suggests the presence of Cretans in Caria at this time: I. Mylasa 643 and 644 both make reference to Cretans ‘living away from the island’.128 As discussed above, warfare was a primary generator of mobility during the Hellenistic period, and the Cretans in particular had a reputation as mercenaries. The reference to xenotrophion in I. Mylasa 651 (l. 6) might be connected with such a presence. The term refers to the maintenance of mercenaries or other foreigners, from xenos, ‘foreigner’, and trophē, ‘nourishment/food’,129 and it alludes to the hospitable reception of foreigners away from their native land. C. Marek has suggested that it was related to the activities of Cretan soldiers, and might refer to an institution providing food, and/or a place to stay for xenoi, or assistance in another form;130 though given the state of preservation of the text, it is not possible to assert whether this establishment was Mylasan or Cretan.

123 124 125 126 127

128 129

130

offered at Delphi against the attack of the Gauls. Cf. Dušanič 1983: 20; Chaniotis 1988a: 39; Gehrke 2001: 293. I. Mylasa 652, l. 7: χαρίξασθαι Μυλασεῦσ[ι]. I. Mylasa 650, ll. 15–16: ἐπαινῆσθαι τὸμ Μυλασ[έων δᾶμον καὶ στεφα]νῶσθαι αὐτὸν. I. Mylasa 643, l. 13. Rigsby Asylia nos. 155, 156, 159, 160. Another alternative, suggested by A. Wilhelm (1951: 85–86), is that the demos of Mylasa was being honoured as proxenos: I. Mylasa 643 l. 13: [ἦμεν δὲ καὶ π]ρόξενον καὶ εύεργέταν [τὸν δᾶμον τὸν Μυλασέω]ν. Such an award would be highly unusual, as proxenia was ordinarily awarded to foreign individuals rather than a city; though an earlier parallel could be found in the collective grant of proxeny to the Knossians by Maussollos and Artemisia; I. Labraunda 40. Mack 2015: 202, n. 49, supports the restoration of Wilhelm, and includes I. Mylasa 643 in his list of group grants of proxenia. Cf. J. and L. Robert BE 1953: no. 186, who do not support Wilhelm’s restorations. I. Mylasa 643, ll. 1–3; 644, ll. 4–6. Liddell-Scott s.v. ξένος; τροφή. A similar term, from the verb ξενοτροφέω, is found in the Teian series; see Rigsby Asylia no. 147, ll. 10–11. Marek 1984: 308: he suggests that a sum of money is the most likely meaning. The ending -eion is frequently used in reference to something more concrete; one could draw a

149

Cretan Diplomacy and Cretan Piracy

The delegation resulted in the award of a number of honours to Mylasa, with the Mylaseis praised by the Cretan koinon for their eunoia and philostorgia to the inhabitants of the island.131 The texts further attest to the desire on the part of the Mylaseis to commemorate this interaction through the public and collective display of the documents. But the terms of the decrees were more than honorific, and the Cretans also made practical pledges:  I. Mylasa 643 contains a clause that entails a level of obligation to the Mylaseis: [βοαθῆν Μυλασεῦσι παντ]ὶ σθέναι καὶ τὸς ἐν [τᾶι νάσωι Κρηταιέας] καὶ τὸς ἔξω τᾶς νά[σω οἰκίοντας ὡς αὐτᾶς] τᾶς Κρήτας πολεμω[μένας]132 [To assist all Mylaseis] with force, [those Cretans living on the island] and those [living] away from the island, [as if] Crete itself was attacked.

The Cretan city was making a commitment to provide military aid to Mylasa, with the same degree of dedication as if the war were being waged against Crete itself. The situation in which such assistance would be required is not made explicit, though such terms were common in alliance, or symmachia, treaties. H.U. Wiemer has observed a comparable clause in the collection of Cretan decrees from Teos: if anyone wronged the Teians, the polis of Malla was to offer assistance ‘as if it were their own fatherland’.133 The Teian series survive in a more complete form than the Mylasan decrees, and the circumstances surrounding the granting of such a guarantee can be better reconstructed; they offer a useful insight into diplomatic interaction with Crete in the late stages of the third century bc .

Cretan Diplomacy and Cretan Piracy The series of inscriptions from the city of Teos records the delegations sent by the city at the end of the third century bc, c.204/3 bc, to a number of states,

131 132

133

comparison with to xenodocheion, translated as an inn or lodging house for foreigners; Liddell-Scott s.v. τὸ ξενοδοχεῖον. I. Mylasa 650, l. 14. I. Mylasa 643, ll. 1–4. The restorations are assured through comparison with I. Mylasa 644, where we find similar terms: βοαθῆν Μυλασεῦσι παντὶ| [σθένει καὶ τὸνς ἐ]ν τᾶι νάσωι Κρηταιέανς καὶ| [τὸνς ἔξω τᾶς νάσω Κρ]ή̣τανς πάντανς τὸνς ϝοικίον|[τανς – ]ΤΑΣ, ὡς αὐτᾶς τᾶς Κρήτας πο|[λεμωμένας] (ll. 3–7). I. Mylasa 645, ll. 6–7 also contains a similar clause: βοαθεῖν Μυλ[ασεῦσι παντὶ σθένει – ὡς αὐτᾶς τᾶς]| Κρήτας πολε[μωμένας]. Rigsby Asylia no. 157 ll. 15–17: καὶ ἐάν τινες ἀδικ[ῶσι Τηΐους ἢ τὴν]| χώραν παραιρῶνται τὴν καθιερωμένην [βοα]θήσ[ει ἁ πόλις ἁ]| αλλαίων ὡς καὶ ὑπὲρ τῆς ἰδίας πατρίδος. See Wiemer 2002: 349–350.

149

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Interaction and Reception during the Hellenistic Period

requesting their recognition of Teian asylia, or inviolability.134 While appeals were also made to the Delphic Amphiktiony, the Aitolians and the Athamanian kings, the vast majority of awards were from the cities of Crete.135 The primary request of the Teians was confirmation of the inviolability of the sacred space of Teos, and there are repeated guarantees that Teos ‘shall be sacred and enjoy asylia’.136 This then developed into a request for security, with the added assurance that the Teians would be protected against the seizure of its people and property; for instance, in the decree voted by the Cretan state of Arkades: καὶ αἴ τινες τῶν ὁρμιομένων Ἀρκάδων ἀδικήσωντί τινα Τηΐων ἢ κοινᾶι ἢ ἰδίαι πὰρ τὸ γραφὲν δόγμα περὶ τᾶς ἀσυλίας ὑπὸ τᾶς πόλιος τᾶς Ἀρκάδων, ἐξέστω τῶι παραγενομένωι Τηΐων ἐπιλαβέσθαι καὶ τῶν σωμάτων καὶ χρημάτων, αἴ τίς κα ἄγηι137 And if anyone going out from Arkades injures any of the Teians either communally or privately against the written decree regarding asylia by the city of Arkades, let it be possible for any Teian present to recapture both people and property, if ever someone takes them.138

The Teians were seeking a practical result from their delegations to Crete, and it seems implicit in such a guarantee that Teos had previously 134

135

136 137 138

Rigsby Asylia, nos. 132–161. The appeals made to Delphi (no. 134), the Delphic Amphiktiony (no. 133), the Aitolians (no. 132) and the Athamanian kings (no. 135) can be dated to between 205 and 201 bc , and it appears that the delegations to Crete were roughly contemporary. See Ma 1999: 260 and n. 1. An inscription (Hermann 1965; Ma 1999: no. 17) records that Antiochos III liberated the city and its territory and declared it ‘holy and inviolate and free from tribute’ (ll. 18–19: ἀνῆκε τὴ[ν] πόλιν καὶ τὴγ χώραν ἡμῶν ἱερὰν καὶ ἄσυλον καὶ ἀφορολό|γη̣το̣ ν). Hermann (1965) proposed that it was this royal act that provided the impetus for the other requests, and dated the presence of Antiochos III at Teos to c.203 bc . This was questioned by Piejko (1991: 18–20), who pointed to the fact that the Teian ambassadors do not acknowledge royal initiative for their appeal; he concluded that the asylia requests were not dependent on Antiochos’ presence at Teos, and preferred a date in 197/6 bc for the decrees related to Antiochos III. Ma 1999: 260–265 evaluates the evidence, and endorses a date in c.203 bc . Rigsby Asylia 285 supports a date in c.203 bc , and proposes that the delegations to Crete were dispatched in 202 bc . Cf. Kvist 2003: 191, n. 13; Gauthier 1972: 280–281, n. 204. Rigsby Asylia nos. 136–152, 154–157, 159–161. Seventeen grants are recorded as part of the first embassy, though the original number may have been higher; the second round of requests for reconfirmation of Teian inviolability included communities that do not feature in the first series; Kvist 2003: 191. E.g. Rigsby Asylia no. 142, ll. 20–21. Rigsby Asylia no. 150, ll. 34–40. Kvist 2003: 197–198 offers a different translation: ‘And if any of the citizens of [Arkades] who are at anchor (at Teos) harms anyone from Teos.’ Kvist suggests that ὁρμιομένων comes from ὁρμίζω, ‘to be at anchor’, rather than ὁρμάω, ‘to rush/go out from’.

15

Cretan Diplomacy and Cretan Piracy

had problems with the capture of property. In the ancient world, the most likely perpetrators would be pirates, or raiders, an occupation for which the Cretans were renowned. Strabo wrote that ‘the Cretans succeeded to the business of piracy’,139 while in Polybius, the Cretans are described as ‘irresistible’ both by land and sea in ambushes and piratical excursions.140 K. Rigsby has expressed doubt about the validity of such an interpretation, as the same reputation for piracy cannot be established for all of the other states that received a Teian delegation; instead, he suggested that the decrees may have been establishing military alliances.141 However, the emphasis on the right to reciprocate implies that the Teian delegation to Crete was prompted by their experience of piracy, even if their requests were more geographically extensive. It is known that Teos experienced problems at the hands of pirates during the Hellenistic period. An inscription from the second half of the third century bc describes a raid and the taking of hostages, and records the measures taken by Teos to raise funds to pay the ransom demanded by the raiders.142 The identity of the pirates is not revealed, and it should not be presumed that they were Cretan; yet the prominence of the communities of Crete among the cities appealed to for recognition of asylia suggests that Teos was subject to piratical attacks carried out at least in part by Cretans.143 The Teians were prompted by a desire to secure their possessions and people against the threat of seizure; they sought to do so by forging alliances with the cities of Crete, hoping to prevent future raids by creating lasting diplomatic ties with the communities of the raiders.144 The asylia requests were not directed at stopping Cretan acts of piracy altogether: the clause whereby the Teians could recapture goods and people does not actually guarantee that raids will stop, but rather that they have the right to retaliate. The Teians sent a second delegation to Crete in c.170 bc to seek reconfirmation of their status. Seven inscriptions remain, all similar in form: the Teians asked the Cretan community to renew their good relations, and to inscribe the previous dedication; the Cretan community granted their 139 140 141 142 143

144

Strab. 10. 4. 9: οὗτοί εἰσιν οἱ διαδεξάμενοι τὰ λῃστήρια. Plb. 4. 8. 11. Rigsby Asylia 288. Şahin 1994; SEG 44. 949. Kvist 2003: 194–195. Cf. Gauthier 1972: 277–282: ‘la situation géographique de la cité en faisant une proie facile pour les pirates de tout bord’ (the geographical location of the city made it easy prey for pirates of all sorts). Cf. Brulé 1978: 93–100. Cf. Kvist 2003: 207: ‘the grants of the first round did not rule out that the raiding would continue’.

151

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Interaction and Reception during the Hellenistic Period

request.145 Additional privileges were included, with the Teians repeatedly called philoi and syngeneis146 and awarded honours including isopoliteia, ateleia and the right to own land and property.147 The ambassadors, Herodotos and Menekles, were also awarded proxenia by a number of states.148 As discussed above, such honours were to a degree formulaic, but they also had a legal basis, creating the potential for certain individuals to take advantage of them.149 While the initial Teian requests were motivated by concerns over their security and the right of reprisal, the emphasis has changed in the second round of requests, and the decrees include the assurance of military aid should Teos be attacked.150 The Teians forged links with Crete because they believed their appeals would have a positive result; the consequence appears to have the establishment of enduring and reciprocal ties. A series of treaties from Miletos, recording a Milesian embassy to various Cretan cities in the second half of the third century bc , offer another valuable parallel to the Mylasan decrees.151 The treaty between Miletos and Knossos witnessed the reaffirmation of a previous arrangement,152 and resulted in the provision that ‘a Knossian shall not knowingly purchase a Milesian who is a free man nor a Milesian a Knossian’.153 It can be presumed that Miletos had previously faced a problem with their citizens being enslaved, and they appealed to the cities of Crete in order to ensure their protection. As at Teos, the Milesians responded by creating ties of goodwill with the Cretan states.

145 146

147

148

149 150

151

152 153

Rigsby Asylia nos. 154–157, 159–161. Rigsby Asylia no. 159 (Arkades), ll. 2–3. Cf. no. 154 (Aptera), l. 27; no. 155 (Eranna), ll. 2–4; no. 156 (Biannos), ll. 3–4; no. 157 (Malla), ll. 2–3; no. 160 (Hyrtakina), l. 5; no. 161 (unknown Cretan city), l. 17. Rigsby Asylia no. 159 (Arkades), ll. 37–38: ἰσοπολιτεία καὶ ἔνκτησις γᾶς καὶ οἰκίας καὶ ἀτέλεια. Cf. no. 155 (Eranna), ll. 39–41: πολίτας Ἐραννίων, εἴναι δὲ αὐτοις καὶ ἀτέλειαν καὶ ἔνκτησιν γᾶς καὶ οἰκίας; n. 157 (Malla), l. 15: ἀτέλειαν καὶ ἰσοπολιτείαν. The additional guarantee by Malla that they would protect Teos as if it were their own πατρίς also features in the second round of delegations; see this chapter, n. 133. See this chapter, n. 126. As part of the first round of delegations, Knossos may have awarded proxenia to the original delegates (Rigsby Asylia no. 136, ll. 14–15). Cf. Guizzi 1999: 235–236. Kvist 2003: 210. See above regarding Malla (Rigsby Asylia no. 157). Similar guarantees are found in Rigsby Asylia no. 154, ll. 42–46; no. 155, ll. 36–37; no. 156, ll. 29–30; no. 159, ll. 41– 42; no. 160, ll. 8–9. Cf. SEG 53. 932. Knossos: IC 1. 8. 6; Milet 1. 3. 140a (Austin 107). Other decrees from Gortyn and Phaistos record similar treaties with Miletos: Milet 1. 3. 140 b and c. IC 1. 8. 6, ll. 3–7. IC 1. 8. 6, ll. 18–20: μὴ | ὠνείσθω ὁ Κνώσιος τὸμ Μιλήσιον μηδὲ ὁ Μιλήσιος | τὸν Κνώσιον εἰδὼς ἐλεύθερον ὄντα. At the end of the inscription (ll. 36–39) is a list of other Cretan states that are said to have passed the same resolutions, including Tylisos, Rhaukos, Chersonesos, Milatos, Eltynia, Herakleion, Priansos, Apollonia, Petra, Itanos, Praisos, Istron, Olous, Dreros, Lato, Eleutherna, Axos, Kydonia and Phalasarna.

153

Cretan Diplomacy and Cretan Piracy

In these instances, diplomatic relations with the island of Crete were instigated in part by communities seeking assurances of their security against the threat of piracy. Undoubtedly, the reputation of the Cretans as raiders has something to recommend it (some Cretans engaged in piratical raids as a source of income in the ancient world); but the degree to which it should dominate our impression of the island’s role in the networks of the Mediterranean is disputed. The fractious political landscape of Crete was renowned during the Hellenistic period and territorial disputes were endemic;154 this is reflected in the decline in the number of poleis attested on the island from the fourth to the first century bc .155 According to Polybius, ‘owing to the constant succession of their civil wars and their excessive cruelty to each other, beginning and end are much the same in Crete’.156 These social and political conditions on Crete encouraged Cretans to look outside the island in pursuit of new opportunities for employment, including piracy.157 Piracy (leisteia) is viewed pejoratively in the ancient sources; as V.  Gabrielsen writes, the labels of ‘piracy’ and ‘pirate’ are frequently employed to contribute to the stereotypes of ‘marginal’ peoples, including the Cretans.158 But the dichotomy between notions of ‘legitimate’ and ‘illegitimate’ in the trading networks of the ancient world needs to be reevaluated:  piracy and the ‘raid mentality’ were intrinsically connected to trading interests.159 This is not the place to fully investigate the role of piracy in the ancient economy;160 though it should be stressed that the widespread disapproval levelled at the Cretans did not stop their practice of leisteia, nor did it necessarily prevent their involvement in ‘legitimate’ forms of trade. Both forms of gain were dependent on private ship ownership, and thus an overlap in activities would be expected.

154

155

156

157 158 159 160

The Lyttian War of 221–219 bc seems to have involved most of the island. Lyttos was attacked and sacked by an alliance of Cretan states led by Knossos, although this fell apart after a number of allies defected to the Lyttians (Plb. 4. 53). Chaniotis 2005: 21. See Willetts 1965: 143ff. Cf. Chaniotis 1999b: 183: ‘The fears of the Cretan communities are clearly expressed in the formulaic clauses of the Hellenistic treaties of alliance, in which the partner is called to assist, “whenever someone invades the land, or occupies parts of the territory, or destroys private estates, settlements of the serfs, frontier forts, islands or harbors”.’ Plb. 24. 3. 1: διὰ γὰρ τὴν συνέχειαν τῶν ἐμφυλίων πολέμων καὶ τὴν ὑπερβολὴν τῆς εἰς ἀλλήλους ὠμότητος ταὐτὸν ἀρχὴ καὶ τέλος ἐστὶν ἐν Κρήτῃ. Spyridakis 1970: 43; Chaniotis 1999b: 183, 205; 2005: 81–82. Gabrielsen 2001a: 222. Gabrielsen 2001b: 78. See now Gabrielsen 2001a; 2001b. For a discussion of Cretan piracy in particular, see Brulé 1978.

153

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Interaction and Reception during the Hellenistic Period

Piracy was not a formalised profession, and the notion of ‘legitimacy’ within trade was itself open to manipulation.161 The image of Cretans as raiders is often set against the Rhodians’ naval supremacy during this period, in particular their reputation as protectors of the seas.162 The little remaining evidence for the origins of the First Cretan War, fought between the cities of Crete and Rhodes in 205/4 bc , reinforces such an image. According to Diodorus, a fleet of seven Cretan ships began to engage in piracy, and plundered a number of vessels; this had a disheartening effect on those ‘engaged in commerce by sea’, at which point the Rhodians, ‘reflecting that this lawlessness would affect them also, declared war upon the Cretans’.163 The cause of the war is attributed to the raids of Cretan pirates, but the commercial interests of Rhodes, and their own expansionist desires in the region, were also significant.164 The Rhodians adopted the role of guardians against piracy during the Hellenistic period; however, they were also interested in protecting their own trading interests, especially their role in the grain trade with the Black Sea and Egypt.165 While the activities of Cretan pirates may have concerned them, the war was prompted by the more immediate threat to their regional monopoly posed by the advances of Philip V in the east, and his interference on Crete. Cretan piracy continued before and after this military engagement, and to an extent the role of the Rhodians as ‘protectors’ of the seas was dependent upon the activities of the pirates; as Gabrielsen writes, they were ‘tangled into an intricate relationship of mutual dependence within the same economic and political structure’.166 The activities of Cretan pirates did not prevent the Rhodians from entering into treaties with Cretan cities; thus during the siege of Rhodes by Demetrios, soldiers from Knossos were said to have sailed in as allies,167 while in the build up to the Lyttian War, the Rhodians are found lending assistance to Knossos.168 In the aftermath of the 161 162

163

164

165

166 167 168

Gabrielsen 2001b: 84. See Diod. Sic. 20. 81: ‘on behalf of the Greeks she by herself undertook her war against the pirates and purged the seas of these evil-doers’ (ὑπὲρ μὲν τῶν Ἑλλήνων ἰδίᾳ τὸν πρὸς τοὺς πειρατὰς πόλεμον ἐπαναιρεῖσθαι καὶ καθαρὰν παρέχεσθαι τῶν κακούργων τὴν θάλατταν). The Rhodians are said by Strabo (14. 2. 5) to have overthrown the business of piracy (τὰ λῃστήρια καθεῖλε). The impression still permeates some modern scholarship; see Ager 1991a: 17–18; regarding the First Cretan War, she writes that it marked one of Rhodes’ ‘most strenuous anti-piracy actions to date’. Diod. Sic. 27. 3: διὸ καὶ τῶν ἐμπόρων ἀθυμούντων, Ῥόδιοι πρὸς αὑτοὺς τἀδικήματα νομίσαντες ἥξειν πρὸς τοὺς Κρῆτας πόλεμον ἐξήνεγκαν. For a detailed discussion of the First Cretan War, see Perlman 1999 and Wiemer 2002: 143–176. Wiemer 2002: 175: ‘Der 1. Kretische Krieg hatte für die Rhodier also durchaus eine hegemoniale Dimension.’ (The First Cretan War therefore had a hegemonic dimension for the Rhodians.) Gabrielsen 2001a: 228. Diod. Sic. 20. 88. 9. Plb. 4. 53. 2. See this chapter, n. 154.

15

Contextualising the Mylasan Inscriptions

First Cretan War, the Rhodians concluded alliances with Hierapytna, Olous and Chersonesos;169 in the treaty with Hierapytna, the Rhodians promised to send aid to the Hierapytnians in the event of someone depriving them of ‘lawful revenues from the sea’.170 The Rhodians clearly distinguished between the activities of ‘legitimate’ traders and pirates, but it did not affect their policy towards the Cretan states.171 The level of Cretan involvement in commerce during the Hellenistic period continues to be debated, but the image of commercial marginalisation should be re-evaluated. P. Perlman has suggested that the island was involved in the production of wool and purple dye, industries which would not necessarily have left a trace in the archaeological record.172 Wine amphora handles from Hierapytna have also been discovered in Egypt, which appears to indicate some volume of long-distance trade.173 While A. Chaniotis has drawn attention to the lack of evidence for Cretan merchants, as well as the lack of displays of private wealth during the Hellenistic period, the island would have maintained its role in the naval itineraries of the Mediterranean.174 The value placed on diplomatic relations with the cities of Crete by Teos, Miletos and Mylasa suggest that the island was far from isolated within the networks of the Mediterranean during the Hellenistic period. Cretan poleis were able to derive an income from harbour dues and taxes, and commercial interests, however formalised, constituted one motivation for the mobility of individuals to and from Crete.

Contextualising the Mylasan Inscriptions Southwestern Anatolia served as a frontier zone for the Hellenistic dynasties, with control consistently disputed between the various kingdoms.175 The shifting political landscape also resulted in a frequent military presence in the region: inscriptions from Amyzon and Labraunda attest to the presence of Seleukid troops at both sites,176 while Philip V garrisoned Euromos, 169

170 171 172

173 174 175 176

IC 3. 3. 3A (Austin 113); SEG 23. 547 (van Effenterre 1948: 226–230); IC 1. 7. 1 (SEG 41. 768). Cf. Perlman 1999: 135. IC 3. 3. 3A, ll. 68–69. Gabrielsen 2001a: 237; Wiemer 2002: 158. Perlman 1999: 146–151. Viviers 1999: 229, has also suggested that timber was exported from Crete. Guizzi 1999: 242. Chaniotis 1999b: 210–211. Cf. SEG 49. 1207; Marangou 1999: 270. For a narrative history of this period, see Ma 1999: 26–105; Reger 1999; Errington 2008. Amyzon: Robert and Robert Amyzon no. 10 (Ma 1999: no. 6), a letter of Antiochos III to his army; no. 19 (Ma 1999: no. 13), an honorary decree for the Seleukid soldiers and their

155

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Interaction and Reception during the Hellenistic Period

Iasos, Bargylia, Pedasa and the Rhodian peraia during his campaign in 201 bc; his presence is also recorded at Panamara.177 The Mylaseis had been granted their independence by Seleukos II at some point around 246 bc; however, their liberty still came under threat.178 An inscription from Labraunda attests to Philip V’s official confirmation of Mylasa’s independence,179 while Polybius recorded that the king had attempted and failed to take the city by treachery.180 The local strategos Olympichos also expanded his influence in the vicinity of Mylasa in the second half of the third century bc; the Mylaseis are found petitioning him, and the kings Seleukos II and Philip V, on a number of occasions over his advancing influence and occupation of fortresses in the region.181 At the same time, Mylasa was acting to secure its interests in the region and expand its territory. As the native city of the Hekatomnids, Mylasa had served as the dynastic capital until the seat was moved to Halikarnassos during the reign of Maussollos.182 The city’s ambitions were not diminished in the aftermath of the transfer, and G. Reger has proposed that Mylasan territorial expansion began as an attempt to consolidate their regional status.183 An inscription from Sekköy, dated to 354/3 bc, records the purchase of land from Kindye by the Mylaseis, and it has been suggested that this was an attempt by Mylasa to secure access to the sea.184 R. van Bremen has sought to locate the territory in question on the coast of the stretch of water referred to as the ‘Little Sea’ in the ancient world (Map 8).185 This body of water is mentioned in an inscription from Iasos in the fourth century bc: the Iasians voted honours for Gorgos and Minnion, sons of Theodotos, because they

177 178

179 180 181

182 183 184

185

general Ophelandros, recording that ‘they put an end to the besieging’ (l. 10). Labraunda: I. Labraunda 46 (Ma 1999: no. 15), preserving the king’s instructions not to camp in the sacred place or damage the sanctuary. See also Crampa I. Labraunda Vol. I: 134–135. Plb. 18. 2. 3–4; I. Stratonikeia 3–4. I. Labraunda 3, ll. 7–8; 5, ll. 34–35; 7, ll. 9–10; cf. Crampa I Labraunda Vol. I: 81–85. See also I. Labraunda 137 (Carless Unwin and Henry 2016), ll. 2–4. Cf. Reger 2004: 166; 2010: 24–25. I. Labraunda 5. Plb. 16. 24. 6–8. I. Labraunda 4, 5, 7. The new Olympichos inscription from Labraunda (I. Labraunda 137) is another letter from the dynast, responding to a complaint from the Mylaseis about his encroachment on their territory; Carless Unwin and Henry 2016. Cf. Isager and Karlsson 2008: an honorary decree for Olympichos. Cf. Strab. 14. 2. 23. Reger 2010: 55–57. I. Mylasa 11; Blümel 1990: 11–12; HTC 90. See Reger 2010: 48–49; van Bremen 2013; Descat 2014. See p. 53. Van Bremen 2013: 6–7, proposes a new reconstruction for lines 3–4 of I. Mylasa 11, suggesting that the territory in contention was a place called Akte (‘headland’ or ‘cape’) and the adjoining land; such a toponym has to be sought on the coast. Cf. Descat 2014, who challenges this restoration, and seeks a location for the territory in question inland; though he does not dispute that Mylasa would have secured access to the sea.

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Contextualising the Mylasan Inscriptions

had petitioned Alexander ‘about the Little Sea’ to have it ‘given back to the people’.186 The location of the ‘Little Sea’ is identified with the now marshy area forming the delta of the Sarı Çay to the east of Iasos;187 in antiquity the bay would have extended further to the east and north, with a narrow entrance.188 Following the suggestion of L. Robert, the ‘Little Sea’ is thought to have been returned to Iasos from Mylasa;189 if this is the case, the earlier purchase of the land of Kindye by Mylasa may have been part of a larger programme to secure access to this body of water and their maritime interests; though, as van Bremen notes, it is likely that other territories would have been required to provide unbroken access to the sea from Mylasa.190 In the fourth century bc, the Mylaseis perceived economic and sociopolitical advantages to securing their involvement in maritime networks, and pursued a programme of expansionism. This continued into the Hellenistic period, with the grant of independence by Seleukos II offering them the opportunity to reassert their regional dominance and acquire territory.191 Over the course of the third and into the second century bc, Mylasa incorporated a number of surrounding communities in its domain, including Olymos, Hydai and Sinuri; as part of this process, the subdivisions of the subject communities were ‘downgraded’ and assigned to one of the three Mylasan phylai; thus local phylai became syngeneiai.192 Mylasa also asserted its authority over the sanctuary of Labraunda.193 186

187 188 189 190 191

192

193

I. Iasos 30 (Rhodes and Osborne 90), A ll. 5–8: καὶ ὑπὲρ τῆς μικρῆς |θαλάσσης διαλεχθέντες |Ἀλεξάνδρωι βασιλεῖ ἐκομίσαντο |[κ]αὶ ἀπέδοσαν τῶι δήμωι·. Delrieux 2001: 163–168; 2008; Reger 2010: 44–49; van Bremen 2013: 11–12. See the discussion of van Bremen 2013: 11–17. Cf. L. Robert BE 1973: no. 419. See Reger 2010: 45. Van Bremen 2013: 18. Reger 2004: 164ff.; 2010: 49ff; Ashton and Reger 2006: 125. Reger (2004 164-165) considered the liberation by Seleukos II c. 246 bc as the terminus post quem for the incorporation of Olymos, and proposed a third-century date; thus this process was roughly contemporaneous with, or within a generation of, the conflict between Mylasa and the priests of Labraunda; see this chapter, n. 193. I. Labraunda 137 appears to refer to Olymos as part of Mylasan territory soon after the city’s liberation; see Carless Unwin and Henry 2016: 35–36. See now Bresson and Debord 1985: 203ff.; Reger 2004: 164–169; 2010: 49ff. Cf. Wörrle 2003: 128. Euromos appears to have entered into a sympoliteia with Mylasa at some point, although it does not seem to have endured; in I. Mylasa 102, ll. 14–15, they are described as συμπολιτευομένων; see p. 193; cf. Reger 2004: 168–169. Blümel (I. Mylasa 26–27) originally dated the sympoliteia between Mylasa and Euromos to the late second/first century bc ; however, letter forms would suggest a date in the first half of the second century bc ; see Chapter 5, n. 20. See also Boulay and Pont 2014: 54–57; they establish that Chalketor entered into a sympoliteia with Iasos in the second half of the second century bc , adding further to our understanding of the political geography of Hellenistic Caria. The Labraundan conflict is well documented in a series of texts (I. Labraunda 1–7); royal sanction was sought by both the Mylaseis and the priests of Labraunda (Seleukos II: I. Labraunda 1; Antigonos Doson: I. Labraunda 5, ll. 5–8; Philip V: I. Labraunda 5, 6, 7). Mylasa prevailed in each appeal; although the priests of Labraunda apparently used the

157

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The active engagement of Mylasa in interstate diplomacy during this period reveals its orientation towards the Aegean.194 The series of Cretan decrees attests to the existence of such ties between the Mylaseis and Cretan poleis in the later part of the third century bc . These texts were inscribed in the aftermath of a Mylasan delegation to Crete, which may have been seeking recognition of the asylia of the city and its sanctuaries, or the conclusion of military alliances.195 There are indications in the dossier that the Mylasan delegation did not mark the instigation of their contacts; the references to the ‘goodwill’ of the Mylaseis and their ‘kinship’ with the Cretans seem to be reinforcing rather than initiating contacts. While there are no indications that the Mylaseis faced a problem with seizure, as at Teos and Miletos, they clearly sought a practical benefit to establishing relations with Crete, as indicated by the guarantees of military support. In the context of the late third century bc , this may have been prompted by a perceived threat to their security and independence, occasioned by the advancing influence of Philip V in the eastern Mediterranean. From early in his reign, Philip V had shown particular attention towards Crete in an attempt to take advantage of the island’s strategic location as a gateway to targeting territory in Anatolia and further east.196 His appointment as prostatēs of the Cretan koinon c.217 bc is

194

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196

shifting dynastic landscape as an opportunity to renew their petition. On the chronology, see Bencivenni 2003: 265–269. See also Virgilio 2001; Dignas 2002: 59–69; Reger 2010: 51–53. Debord (2001: 23) links the obvious maritime association of the Mylasan cult of Zeus Osogō/ Zenoposeidon with the geo-political orientation of the Hekatomnids during the fourth century bc towards the Aegean, which included the incorporation of some of the islands into their domain; certain Hekatomnid coin types depicted Zeus Osogō on the obverse, holding a trident, and Zeus Labraundos on the reverse (see Figure 2). These cultic associations retained their importance to the Mylaseis into the third century bc ; the civic coinage of Mylasa frequently depicted Zeus Osogō with a trident, or sometimes a crab, while other smaller denominations featured the trident alone; see Delrieux 1999. See now van Bremen 2013: 23ff. I. Labraunda 137 includes a reference to τὰ ἱερὰ ἄσυλα, ‘the sanctuaries inviolable’ (ll. 4–5), raising the possibility that asylia was included among the privileges awarded to Mylasa when it was liberated by Seleukos II; see Carless Unwin and Henry 2016: 33. Smyrna was liberated by Seleukos II in a similar time frame, and the city was granted asylia: I. Smyrna 573 I; see Rigsby Asylia: 95–105, no. 7. The parallels between the two grants of liberty were discussed by Bencivenni 2003: 267–269. Polybius (3. 2. 8) made reference to an alliance between Philip V and Antiochos III on the death of Ptolemy IV Philopator, in which they agreed to cooperate to partition Ptolemaic possessions outside Egypt, ‘Philip laying hands on Egypt and on Caria and Samos, while Antiochos seized on Coele-Syria and Phoenicia’; cf. Magie 1939. The discovery of an inscription, alluding to a treaty, appears to corroborate Polybius’ account: according to the text, ‘when war broke out from King Antiochos against King Ptolemy, the one now ruling’, Antiochos gained control of Kildara and Thodasa ‘before Theangela was handed over to Antiochos by King Philip’. Ed. pr. Blümel 2000; see also Wiemer 2001; Ma 1999, in expanded paperback edition 2002: 379–380, with translation.

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relevant in this context;197 Diodorus further recorded that he had encouraged the Cretans to engage in war with Rhodes to undermine the latter’s control over the sea.198 One of his motivations in forming alliances with the island would have been to secure access to mercenaries, and since Cretan troops were frequently found in his army, it can be supposed that they travelled with him to Caria during his campaign of 201 bc .199 It was suggested above that the repeated references to the Κρηταιεῖς in the Mylasan inscriptions denote the activity of the Cretan koinon, and thus the appointment of Philip V as the leader of the league would correspond with the late third-century date of the inscriptions. It can tentatively be proposed that the Mylasan delegation was a proactive move prompted by the threat of Macedonian expansion in the region in the aftermath of Philip’s alliances with the Cretan poleis. A more precise date between c.217 bc (when Philip secured his interests on Crete) and 201–197 bc (when Philip campaigned in Caria) can be suggested for the delegation to Crete, and for the inscription of the decrees. A date before 205 bc , and the First Cretan War is likely, if it is correct to assume that the Cretan koinon had foundered by that time.200 The Mylasan dossier should be placed in a broader context of interaction between the communities of Caria and the island that witnessed the mobility of Cretans in the southeast Aegean and their presence in southwestern Anatolia. Despite its inland location, the ambitions of Mylasa meant that it had always involved itself in the ‘business of the sea’, and Crete formed a natural extension of its regional networks. The shifting political dynamics between the Hellenistic dynasties ushered in an era of increased interaction between poleis across the Mediterranean. This mobility of individuals and the relationships they established with foreign cities were crucial to the diffusion and maintenance of a shared intellectual and cultural milieu.201 The communities of Caria were fully integrated within these networks of contact: the widespread adoption of the institutions of the polis during the Hellenistic period permitted their incorporation into the wider cultural koine, following a standardised pattern of conduct, and employing the formalised language of interstate diplomacy.202 The social and political horizons of southwestern Anatolia and Crete overlapped to involve the communities and individuals of Caria with the island, and vice versa. Within this framework it was their 197 198

199 200 201 202

See this chapter, n. 93. Diod. Sic. 28. 1: Philip V induced Dikaiarchos of Aitolia to engage in piracy, and ordered him to levy tribute on the islands and to support the Cretans in their war against Rhodes. Plb. 4. 61. 2; 4. 67. 6. See p. 142. Ma 2003: 13–14. Cf. Gehrke 2011: 48. Ma 2003: 38–39.

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shared relations in the past that gave their contemporary associations greater currency.

The Role of the Past in Diplomatic Discourse The Hellenistic period witnessed a heightened awareness of mythologies and histories;203 antiquarian and aetiological interests can be identified in the work of scholars such as Callimachus,204 and in the proliferation of itinerant poets and historians.205 These trends reflected the appetites of audiences to hear their poleis celebrated,206 both involving the citizens in their past and projecting an image of the city to the outside world.207 Mythological traditions could also be employed to negotiate relations with other groups, whether to forge ties, articulate difference or to settle disputes.208 In this sense, the past can be seen to possess a legitimating function: recourse to mythological and historical traditions, and the employment of the language of kinship, offered a way for a community to secure its reputation and its standing in relation to other states, establishing what J. Ma calls a ‘network of relatedness’.209 Appeals to syngeneia or oikeiotēs were frequent in interstate relations.210 It is often difficult to judge whether they were merely a standardised aspect of diplomatic language or endowed with a persuasive force. A much discussed 203

204

205

206 207 208 209 210

Schepens (2001: 14) suggests that the growing trend for local histories during the Hellenistic and Roman periods may have been connected with the incorporation of the various citystates into wider empires, when the ‘political heydays of the polis’ were over. Scheer 2003: 218 also links the trend to the upheaval and the expanded horizons brought about by Alexander’s campaigns. Callimachus was keen to display the depth of his knowledge about local traditions and religions, and shows a detailed awareness of the places he described. Chaniotis (2001: 216– 217) draws attention to the number of Cretan subjects in Callimachus’ epigrams, and suggests the presence of Cretans in Alexandria. Local historians were employed to commemorate the past of a polis, celebrating its early history and the significant stages of its development, both mythological and historical; see Clarke 2005; Chaniotis 2009a. An interest in the local should not be regarded as solely a Hellenistic trend: according to Strabo (10. 3. 5), Ephorus (fourth century bc ) was praised by Polybius for having given ‘the best account of the founding of cities, kinships, migrations and original founders’ (κάλλιστα δ᾿ Ἔφορον ἐξηγεῖσθαι περὶ κτίσεων, συγγενειῶν, μεταναστάσεων, ἀρχηγετῶν). Cf. Cameron 1995: 43; Chaniotis 2009a: 267. Clarke 2008: 229–230. Assmann 2011: 115; cf. Schepens 2001: 24; Erskine 2005. Ma 2003: 20. Literature includes Curty 1995; Jones 1999; Erskine 2002; Patterson 2010; Mac Sweeney 2013; 2015a.

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The Role of the Past in Diplomatic Discourse

inscription from Xanthos in Lycia records the arrival of an embassy from Kytenion in Doris in 206/5 bc .211 Kytenion had been devastated by an earthquake twenty years earlier, and then invaded by Antigonos Doson: the Kytenian envoys arrived in Xanthos seeking funds to rebuild their city walls, and a claim of syngeneia was made. The Xanthians subsequently recorded the transaction in a public inscription. What makes the Xanthian case exceptional is that they included the basis for this kinship in the inscribed text, as it had been outlined by the Kytenians in their entreaty. The envoys are said to have cited ‘the kinship (syngeneia) that exists between them and us from gods and heroes’,212 before proceeding to establish this affiliation on two bases. Initially they drew upon the common descent of both Kytenion and Xanthos from the god Apollo: tradition recorded that Leto, the primary goddess of Xanthos, gave birth to Artemis and Apollo in Lycia, while Apollo and Koronis (a descendant of Dorus) bore Asklepios in Doris, the land of the Dorians. The Kytenians then appealed to the heroic Lycian dynasty of Glaukos; through the figure of Chrysaor, son of Glaukos, a tie of kinship was established between Xanthos and Kytenion213: ἔτι τε παρεδείκνυον τῶν ἀποικισθέντων ἐκ τῆς ἡμετέρας ὑπὸ Χρυσάορος τοῦ Γλαύκου τοῦ Ἱππολόχου πρόνοιαν πεποιημένον Ἀλήτην, ὄντα τῶν Ἡρακλειδῶν· ὁρμηθέντα γὰρ αὐτὸν ἐκ τῆς Δωρίδος βοηθῆσαι πολεμουμένοις καὶ τὸν περιεστηκότα κίνδυνον λύσαντα συνοικῆσαι τὴν Ἄορος τοῦ Χρυσάορος θυγατέρα · As well, they indicated that the colonists sent out from our land by Chrysaor, the son of Glaukos, the son of Hippolochos, received protection from Aletes, one of the descendants of Herakles: for [Aletes], starting from Doris, came to their aid when they were being warred upon. Putting an end to the danger by which they were beset, he married the daughter of Aor, the son of Chrysaor.214

Xanthos was not the only city visited by the Kytenians; as the text records, the Kytenians had received endorsement from the Aitolian League and the Dorians to send embassies to ‘kindred cities’, as well as to the kings descended from Herakles.215 The ambassadors reached Xanthos on their

211 212 213 214 215

Bousquet 1988; SEG 38. 1476. Cf. Ph. Gauthier BE 1989: no. 275. SEG 38. 1476, ll. 15–16: ὑπαρχούσης συγγενείας ἀπό τε τῶν θεῶν και | τῶν ἡρώων. Cf. Hom. Il. 6. 154ff. Bousquet 1988; SEG 38. 1476, ll. 24–30. Translation C. P. Jones 1999: 61–62. SEG 38. 1476, ll. 73–76: Ἔδοξε τοῖς Αἰτωλοῖς | πρεσβείας δόμεν τοῖς Δωριέοις ποτί τε τὰς πόλεις τὰς | συγγενεῖς καὶ τοὺς βασιλεῖς τοὺς ἀπὸ Ἡρακλέος Πτόλε|μαῖον καὶ Ἀντίοχον.

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way to Antiochos III in Syria and Ptolemy IV in Egypt, and this was only one stop on their journey. It can be presumed that similar affiliations were claimed in the other cities visited; as the figure of Chrysaor had strong links in both Lycia and Caria, it can be speculated that the Kytenians also sought support from members of the Chrysaoric League.216 The Xanthians may have only agreed to contribute a relatively modest sum of 500 drachmai to help with the reconstruction of their city walls,217 but they were apparently impressed enough by the Kytenian demonstration to inscribe the claim in full, implying their acceptance of the mythological basis for their affiliation. The Kytenian embassy to Xanthos was motivated by their need to gain financial support, and we can suppose that their efforts to establish kinship between the two communities arose from this need. However, that does not mean that the subsequent claim of syngeneia was without significance, or merely a part of diplomatic formality. While there was ingenuity to this claim, and such a mythical link is not elsewhere attested, it was well researched and executed with an impressive awareness of local Lycian mythology and history. The Xanthian decision to inscribe the argumentation of the Kytenian delegates in full is unusual among our epigraphic sources, but it can be presumed that such fastidiousness was not infrequent. The poleis of the ancient world regarded the validity of their civic histories as a serious business, and a claim of kinship could aid in forging long-lasting and reciprocal relationships.218 Returning again to the Teian dossier, syngeneia was asserted in a number of the decrees recording the delegations sent to the Cretan cities; similarly in the Mylasan texts, kinship was claimed by many of the Cretan states.219 Diplomatic relations between Teos and Crete then continued into the second century bc , where their syngeneia is again asserted as part of the second round of delegations.220 The basis for their kinship is nowhere mentioned in the extant decrees, however it is likely that it was substantiated by the delegates. 216

217

218 219

220

Jones 1999: 69. For comments on Chrysaor, see pp. 53–54; on the Chrysaoric League, see pp. 53–56. Ma 2003: 9, n. 1: 500 drachmai was the equivalent of a year’s wages for a teacher in the gymnasium. This was ‘not enough to make a large dent in the massive cost of fortification building, which was counted in talents (each talent being worth 6,000 drachmai)’. Erskine 2002: 104. Rigsby Asylia no. 139 (Kydonia), l. 3; no. 140 (Axos), ll. 3–4; no. 142 (Lato), l. 3; no. 148 (Istron), l. 3; no. 149 (Eleutherna), l. 2; no. 150 (Arkades), l. 2; no. 151 (Allaria), l. 2; no. 152 (Lato by Kamara), l. 3. Oikeiotēs was also claimed: Rigsby Asylia no. 138 (Rhaukos), l. 6; no. 141 (Sybrita), ll. 6–7; no. 143 (Lappa), l. 6. Rigsby Asylia no. 154, l. 27; no. 155, l. 3; no. 156, l. 3; no. 157, l. 3; no. 159, l. 3; no. 160, l. 5; no. 161, l. 17.

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Claims of kinship in diplomacy were not universal, which may support the notion that the invocation of an affiliation, and the choice of terminology employed to do so, was significant. It has long been noted, for instance, that the Athenians rarely claimed syngeneia with non-Ionian states.221 It is therefore surprising to find a claim of kinship in a decree between Athens and Kydonia in western Crete: this is the first example of kinship with Athens based on something other than colony status.222 But for a state ordinarily assiduous in the employment of such terminology, it can be suggested that Athens was able to demonstrate a link with the Cretan polis. The basis for this affiliation can no longer be established, though N. Papazarkadas and P. Thonemann have tentatively suggested that it could be connected with the common descent through Apollo of Kydon, the eponymous founder of Kydonia, and Ion.223 In 208 bc , the city of Magnesia-on-the-Maeander attempted to upgrade its civic games, the Leukophryena.224 They sent delegations to a number of states across the Mediterranean seeking international recognition of its stephanitic status, and the positive responses of the states were inscribed collectively in the agora.225 The Magnesians employed various terminology in their dealings with different poleis; in some instances syngeneia (kinship) was claimed,226 while in others oikeiotēs (familiarity),227 homogeneia (common descent)228 or philia (friendship);229 there is a further possible reference to astygeitones (neighbours to the city).230 The Magnesians apparently distinguished between different degrees of affiliation in their dealings with foreign states, and the gradation in terminology appears to have signified something of the nature of the relations realised. The Magnesians 221 222 223 224 225

226

227

228 229

230

Jones 1999: 44. Papazarkadas and Thonemann 2008: 82. Papazarkadas and Thonemann 2008: 85. See now Gehrke 2001: 287ff. I. Magnesia 16–87; Rigsby Asylia nos. 66–131. Regarding the date, see Rigsby Asylia: 182; the Seleukid responses (I. Magnesia 18 and 19; Rigsby Asylia nos. 69 and 70) and perhaps those of some Attalid cities (I. Magnesia 83 and 85–87; Rigsby Asylia nos. 128–131) were dated a little later; see Rigsby Asylia: 274–276. The Aitolian decree (Rigsby Asylia no. 67) dates to 221 bc , and the Magnesians’ first attempt; see Rigsby Asylia: 191–192. See below, Chapter 5. Rigsby Asylia no. 83, l. 5; no. 85, l. 14; no. 88, l. 20; no. 96, l. 3; no. 97, l. 3; no. 101, l. 24; no. 111, l. 11; no. 114, l. 8; no. 118, l. 2; no. 120, l. 22; no. 125, l. 15. Rigsby Asylia no. 67, ll. 6–7; no. 73, l. 8; no. 79, l. 4; no. 81, ll. 10–11; no. 82, l. 21; no. 84, ll. 6–7; no. 85, l. 13; no. 86, l. 3; no. 87, l. 7, 13; no. 91, l. 4; no. 92, l. 5; no. 93, ll. 4–5; no. 94, l. 5; no. 95, l. 20; no. 98, ll. 5–6; no. 99, l. 3; no. 102, l. 11; no. 105, l. 3; no. 106, l. 2; no. 108, l. 5; no. 131, l. 5. Rigsby Asylia no. 75, l. 25. Stand alone references: Rigsby Asylia no. 100, l. 9; no. 104, l. 2. In other instances, philia is claimed alongside syngeneia or oikeiotēs. Rigsby Asylia no. 129, l. 3: ἀστυ[γείτονες].

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were thought to have originally derived from Thessaly, and thus it comes as no surprise to see that Gonnoi in Thessaly was one of the states with whom syngeneia was claimed.231 In other cases, the basis for an affiliation is more surprising; for instance, the Kephallonians are described as oikeiotatai of the Magnesians, derived through the syngeneia that existed between Kephalos and Magnes: Deion, the father of Kephalos, was the brother of Magnes.232 In this instance, it is not clear whether we should read anything into the claim of oikeiotēs rather than syngeneia; however, as in the Kytenian delegation, the Magnesian ambassadors had been able to substantiate their claims of an affiliation through recourse to myth. The differentiation in terminology indicates a complexity to relations that is now lost to the modern observer; however, the claims of syngeneia or oikeiotēs in interstate diplomacy should not be dismissed as insignificant, or categorised as a formalised part of diplomatic discourse. If the substantiated claims of the Kytenians and Magnesians can be regarded as in any way typical, it can be proposed that the bases of affiliations, however convoluted, were often established.233 This was encouraged by the flexibility of ancient mythologies; the multifarious strands of myths provided a wide framework within which cities could accommodate their local historical traditions, in what J. Ma terms an ‘interweaving of kinships’.234 It is worth clarifying the circumstances in which it was necessary to demonstrate the interconnections of civic mythologies: it was the participation of communities in the shared cultural milieu of the Hellenistic period, and the conduct of interstate diplomacy, that generated the potential for interchange.235 The formation of ties was not hindered by the involvement of cities conventionally classified as non-Greek; the broad parameters of the Greek mythological corpus were able to accommodate the innumerable idiosyncrasies of local traditions.236 The Kytenian embassy to Lycian Xanthos was motivated by their need to gain financial support, and we can suppose that their efforts to establish kinship between the two communities arose from this need. Similarly, the Magnesian delegations sought to demonstrate the degrees of affiliation between Magnesia-on-the-Maeander and the cities visited in order to persuade the poleis to participate in the Leukophryena. 231 232 233

234 235 236

Rigsby Asylia no. 83 (I. Magnesia 33), l. 5. Rigsby Asylia no. 85 (I. Magnesia 35), ll. 12–15. It should be noted that the basis is not expanded in the majority of the Magnesian texts, but it was likely cited by the delegates. Ma 2003: 20. Cf. Gehrke 2011: 47–48. See Ma 2003, with the application of ‘peer polity interaction’. Scheer 2003: 219, speaks of areas being ‘mythically personalized’: ‘then the local family trees could easily be connected to well-known Greek heroes’.

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This does not mean that such claims were cynical; whether particular links were only elaborated in the context of interstate communication does not affect how they were received in antiquity.237 Rather, it reveals the incorporation of communities into a shared civic culture, which depended on, and was perpetuated by, interaction.238 In the ancient world, the figure of the travelling diplomat served as an active agent in the diffusion of local mythologies and histories.239 In the case of the Magnesian delegations, the decree from Epidamnos records that their envoys made reference to the historical deeds of the Magnesians to further substantiate their case. They cited the help Magnesia had provided to the Delphians against the Gauls (tous barbarous) in 279 bc ,240 and ‘the benefit they accomplished for the Cretan koinon, when they settled their civil war’.241 As part of the delegation to Megalopolis in Arkadia, the Magnesians further referenced the donation they had made in 370 bc to help in the construction of their city walls; in their response the Megalopolitans note the reciprocal nature of their agreement, ‘to return favours to kinsmen and friends with a view to showing ourselves unstinting friends to all who have preferred us’.242 The conduct of diplomacy created situations in which local traditions and mythologies could be transmitted and exchanged. A decree from Priansos records the honours voted for Herodotos and Menekles, the ambassadors from Teos, in the second round of delegations to Crete in the early second century bc .243 The two men were praised for their deportment in the city, and Menekles in particular was singled out and commended for the programme he organised for the Priansians; he is described as having ‘put on a display with the kithara’ of the works of Timotheos and Polyidos and ‘of our other ancient poets rightly and fittingly’.244 He also offered ‘the historical cycle about Crete and the gods and heroes who were born in Crete, producing his collection from many poets and historiographers’.245 It can 237 238 239 240 241

242

243 244

245

Gehrke 2001: 291: ‘In this way, a web of historical interconnections and obligation materialized.’ Ma 2003: 14, 17. Cf. Chaniotis 2009a. I. Magnesia 46 (Rigsby Asylia no. 96), ll. 9–10. I. Magnesia 46, ll. 10–12: τὰν| εὐε[ργ]εσίαν ἃν [συ]νετελέσαντο εἰς τὸ κοινὸ[ν] τῶν Κρηταιέ[ων] δι[α]λύσαντες τὸν ἐμφύλι|ον πόλεμον. As discussed, the ‘civil war’ of the Cretans can probably be identified with the Lyttian War c.220–219 bc ; see p. 147. I. Magnesia 38 (Rigsby Asylia no. 88), ll. 20–22: ἔπειτα δὲ καὶ τοὺς συγγενέας καὶ φίλος ἀντευερ|γετῆν ἰν τὸ ἀπροφασίστος φαίνεσθαι εἶναι φίλος πρὸς |πάντας τὸς καὶ ἁμὲ ἐαρημένος. IC 1. 24. 1. IC 1. 24. 1, ll. 7–9: ἐπεδείξατο Μενεκλῆς μετὰ κιθάρας τά τε Τι|μοθέου καὶ Πολυίδου καὶ τῶν ἁμῶν παλαιῶν ποιητᾶν καλῶς καὶ πρεπόντως. IC 1. 24. 1, ll. 9–13: εἰσνεγκε δὲ κύκλον | ἱστορημέναν ὑπὲρ Κρῆτας, κα[ὶ τ]ῶν ἐν [Κρή]ται γε|γονότων θεῶν τε καὶ ἡρώων, [ποι]ησάμενο[ς τ]ὰν | συναγωγὰν ἐκ πολλῶν ποιητᾶ[ν] καὶ ἱστοριογρά|φων. See Clarke 2008: 347–348; Zelnick-Abramovitz 2014: 185–186.

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be supposed that a similar performance was organised in the other Cretan cities the Teian ambassadors visited. The Teian text offers an insight into the organisation of delegations sent to foreign cities, and the behaviour expected of them; in order to impress the host polis, Menekles drew upon his knowledge of Cretan culture and mythology. It is not possible to ascertain the extent to which the performance of Menekles was the norm in the ancient world, but to a lesser or greater degree, appeals to the history and culture of a community were a characteristic part of diplomatic discourse. A parallel to the Teian delegation can be sought in the Mylasan dossier, where in both I. Mylasa 652 and 653 we find references to a certain Thaletas. As A. Chaniotis has suggested, this figure can likely be identified as Thaletas of Gortyn, the seventh century bc Cretan composer of paeans and ‘Cretan rhythms’;246 I. Mylasa 652 also includes a reference to ‘esteemed poets’.247 In a similar way to Menekles in the Teian embassy, the Mylasan delegations to the cities of Crete seem to have included ‘singing and dancing’ ambassadors who staged a programme of Cretan music and performance for the poleis they visited on Crete. Such performances would have required careful thought and preparation, and the efforts expended reveal the high currency of the past in the contemporary interstate relations of the Hellenistic period.248 Recourse to historical associations was an important method for a community to secure its reputation and standing in relation to other states, mobilising the weight of history behind a certain action or alliance.249 From a modern perspective, it is often difficult to judge the influence of this argumentation on its own, but for the poleis of the ancient world, it appears that the validity of their civic histories was a serious business. The authority of the past can also be demonstrated in cases of hostility between cities. An inscription dated to the beginning of the second century bc records a territorial dispute between Priene and Samos over a fortress called ‘Karion’ on the mainland coast.250 Rhodes was called upon to act as arbitrator, and the appointed judges analysed seven city histories (disregarding one as inauthentic) in order to establish ownership of the land in dispute. Having 246

247 248 249 250

Chaniotis 1988b. Θαλήτα: I. Mylasa 652. l. 2; 653. l. 8. Cf. Plut. On Music 9–10. Chaniotis (1988b: 155) suggests that the Cretan dancer Zenon was also mentioned in I. Mylasa 652, at the end of l. 2: καὶ Ζ[ήνωνος – ]. According to Athenaeus (1. 22 d), Zenon of Crete was a great favourite of Artaxerxes, and mentioned by Ctesias (FGrH 688 F 31). See Plut. Artax. 21. 2, where Zenon the Cretan is referred to as an ὀρχηστής. I. Mylasa 652, l. 1: ἀξιολόγωμ πο[ιητ]ᾶν. Chaniotis 1988b: 155–156. Schepens 2001: 24. I. Priene1 37; I. Priene2 132.

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assessed the evidence, the Rhodians passed judgment in favour of Priene.251 The various versions of local history were the deciding factor in settling the dispute; they were judged for their authenticity, and awarded authority in establishing the antiquity of presence at the site in question. Mythological traditions had the potential to forge long-lasting and reciprocal relationships between communities, or negotiate disagreements; to be endowed with such influence, there must have been credence in their value.252 There remained the potential for reimaginings in particular contexts, and in accordance with contemporary preoccupations; in many cases it appears to have been diplomatic interaction in itself that generated the potential for such cultural interchange.253 But the result was not necessarily the fabrication of traditions; whether particular links were only elaborated in the context of interstate communication does not affect how they were received in antiquity. *

*

*

Participation in the contact networks of the Hellenistic period frequently led to a clarification of a city’s identity through examination of how their own traditions corresponded to the wider mythological framework of the ancient world. This process was not about disguising difference, or even the ‘otherness’ of the Carians, but rather defining local identities in relation to their connections.254 The history of the affiliation between Caria and Crete predated the fourth century bc ; however, within the world order of the Hellenistic kingdoms its significance was awarded a renewed relevance. We should not necessarily look to a specific dynasty as an impetus for change, but rather to the impact the Hellenistic kingdoms had on the direction and nature of interaction. Interstate contact between southwestern Anatolia and Crete provided another foundation for their bonds, based on the recent memory of relations and established ties of reciprocity. This chapter has explored how the historical and mythological ties that existed between the two regions were affected within this context, and gained a renewed pertinence in light of current associations. While it is possible to acknowledge the potential for the adaptation of civic identity in different contexts, it remains difficult to appreciate the circumstances under which certain aspects of a city’s history came to be emphasised or commemorated. In the case of the inscribed ‘origin myth’ 251 252 253 254

Cf. Ager Interstate Arbitration no. 74, 196–210; Magnetto 2008. See also Schepens 2001: 24. Erskine 2002: 104–105. See Clarke 2005; Chaniotis 2009a. Cf. Ma 2003: 19.

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of Magnesia-on-the-Maeander, however, we can explore the historical context in which the Cretan version of Magnesian history was prioritised at the end of the third century bc; the next chapter will examine the evidence for interaction between Magnesia and Crete in greater depth, investigating whether it had an immediate impact on how the Magnesians framed their relationship to the island.

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Inscribing History at Magnesia-on-theMaeander: Civic Engagement with the Past

The Cretan ‘origin myth’ of Magnesia-on-the-Maeander was inscribed in the late third century bc , and recounted the migration of the Magnesians from Thessaly to Crete, from where they travelled to Anatolia under the leadership of Leukippos (Appendix 1).1 Magnesia was not itself a Carian foundation, although its ktistēs Leukippos was described as either Carian or Lycian.2 Despite its deviation from the central Carian–Cretan narrative, the inscribed ‘origin myth’ belongs in the broader corpus of regional traditions that recollected a Cretan link with southwestern Anatolia. The various elements to the mythological link between Magnesia and Crete were discussed in depth in Chapter 2; the focus in this chapter is the civic reception of the Cretan ‘origin myth’ in the historical context of its display. The epigraphic record can serve to counterbalance our reliance on literary sources when attempting to access local mythological traditions. The inscribed Magnesian myth is one of a number of texts that fall into the category of ‘historical inscriptions’, offering an insight into the role of mythologies within civic discourse and commemoration.3 They mark a heightened interest among communities to commemorate their past, and in some instances actively engage with the construction of a civic narrative.

Inscribing History As we have observed, communities often established an internal chronology to their local histories, which helped to root them in universal mythological narratives. The inscribed chronicle of Lindos on Rhodes was one such attempt to establish the genealogy of the sanctuary through an inventory of the dedications made to the goddess.4 The text itself dates to 99 bc and was displayed on the temple of Athena Lindia, though it locates the origins of the site in the distant past, with reference to mythological figures 1 2 3 4

I. Magnesia 17. See pp. 78–79. See Chaniotis 1988a. Lindos 2. 2; Higbie 2003: 18–49; FGrH 532. Cf. Bresson 2006.

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including the Telchines, Kadmos and Minos.5 The inventory continued down to the current day, listing offerings from such illustrious characters as Alexander the Great, Ptolemy, Pyrrhos, Hieron and Philip V; the continuities of the chronicle established direct links between past and present.6 Similarly, the Marmor Parium sought to establish a chronicle of universal history, though it was not limited to a particular polis and its original context is unknown.7 As discussed in the previous chapter, diplomatic interaction was one context in which recourse to the history of a community was frequently made. The decree from Xanthos, recording the Kytenian delegation in 206/ 5 bc , is one example; an earlier parallel can be found in the fourth century bc , when the Cyrenians inscribed a decree in which they awarded people from Thera the right to settle in the city. The decision had been prompted by a Theran delegation, which claimed to possess a copy of an oath awarding the Therans settlement rights, dated to the original foundation of the city in the seventh century bc . The text of the oath of the colonists was included in the decree. It recorded that Battos had been told by Apollo to lead a colony to Libya, and recounts the terms by which a group of Therans joined him.8 Similarly, the ‘origin myth’ of Magnesia seems to have been employed in a diplomatic context. It was inscribed as part of the archive of documents recording the Magnesian attempt to upgrade the civic Leukophryena to stephanitic status in 208 bc . The role of history in the appeal of the Magnesians was discussed in the previous chapter: the Magnesian envoys are said to have recounted their ‘great deeds’ in helping Delphi against the Gauls, and in assisting the resolution of the Cretan ‘civil war’.9 The response of the Epidamnians further recorded that the Magnesian presbeutai had related the euergesiai of the city ‘by reference to the oracles of the god and the poets and writers of history that have compiled the deeds of the Magnesians’.10 It appears that the ‘origin myth’ was included as part of this documentation, and had been composed to substantiate the Magnesian claims.11 The decision to inscribe the ‘origin myth’ lent this version official sanction and a degree of permanence. It may have been composed to serve a 5 6 7 8 9 10

11

Telchines: B II, ll. 9–14; Kadmos: B III, ll. 15–17; Minos: B IV, ll. 18–22. C XXXVIII–XLII, ll. 103–131. FGrH 239. See p. 95. Meiggs and Lewis 5. See p. 121. See p. 147. I. Magnesia 46 (Rigsby Asylia no. 96), ll. 13–14: διά τε τῶν τοῦ θεοῦ χρησμῶν καὶ διὰ τῶ[ν π]οιητᾶν καὶ διὰ τῶν ἱ[σ]|τορ[ι]αγράφων τῶν συγγεγραφότ[ων] τὰς Μαγνήτων πρ[άξ]εις. See Gehrke 2001: 291–292.

17

Inscribing History

specific function in Magnesian diplomacy, but it also reveals the active role of the Magnesians in shaping a particular version of their history and propagating it to the wider world. The commemorative aspect of the inscription could subsequently have affected the process of transmission; while different variants would have continued to circulate, the decision to inscribe this tale reveals the engagement of the city in constructing a their specific civic narrative.12 The archaeological and historical context in which the text was inscribed is thus central to its reading. Polis mythology is the focus of another historical inscription from Caria, discovered at Herakleia-under-Latmos.13 The text is fragmentary, with the right-hand side of the stone missing. It was written in verse, and described the celebration of a civic festival in Herakleia. References are made to honouring with libations, as well as to music, and festivities.14 The reference to ‘the fit time for marriage’15 in the final line might point to the context being a ceremony connected with matrimony or fertility. Athena, as the primary deity at Herakleia, is mentioned under her title Tritogenes at the beginning of the text, leading L. Robert to suggest that the festival was in her honour.16 There are further allusions to some form of trauma at Herakleia; references to ‘the hymn of our anxiety’ and the ‘offshoot of concern’17 might indicate that the city had recently suffered some misfortune. Herakleia is known to have entered into a number of conflicts with neighbouring communities during the Hellenistic period, and these are likely to have had an impact on the prosperity of the city. A  treaty of isopoliteia with Miletos reveals that the two cities had previously been in dispute,18 while a later peace treaty, thought to date to the late 180s bc , indicates that Herakleia had subsequently allied with Miletos in a war against Magnesia and Priene.19 A decree in honour of Moschion, priest of Zeus Kretagenes and the Kouretes, records that he arbitrated in a dispute between Euromos and Herakleia; the details and date of this conflict are not clear, though it is related that the Herakleians had seized Euromean property.20 12 13

14 15 16 17 18 19 20

See Zelnick-Abramovitz 2014. Inscriptiones Grecques du Musée du Louvre no. 60; Merkelbach and Stauber 1998: 01/23/01; Greek Lyric Anonymous Fragments (Loeb) 1037. Cf. Robert 1978: 488–489; 1990. Musée du Louvre no. 60, l. 10: λοιβαῖς γεραίρει; l. 20: παντοφώνοις δ’ ὀργάνοις; l. 23: θαλίας. Musée du Louvre no. 60, l. 33: γάμων ἀκμαι. Robert 1978: 488. Musée du Louvre no. 60, l. 4: ἁμετέρας φροντίδος ὕμνο[ς]; l. 5: βλαστὸς μερίμνας. Milet 1. 3. 150. Milet 1. 3. 148. Cf. Errington 1989; Wörrle 2004. I. Mylasa 102; references are made to the sacred and private possessions still being held by Herakleia (ll. 15–16: τῶν τε ἱερῶν κατασκευασμάτων ἔτ[ι] | δὲ καὶ τῶν ἰδίων ἑκάστου ὑπαρχόντων κατεχομένων ἐν Ἡρακλεία[ι]), and bringing an end to the wrongs done to

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The myth of Endymion was central to the civic identity of Herakleia, and closely associated with Mt. Latmos; Selene was said to have lulled the youth to sleep in a cave on the mountain.21 In the inscription, reference is made to ‘his ever-resting sleep’22 and to his cave;23 he is further credited with founding the city.24 The myth of Endymion retained its relevance to the community through its incorporation into the civic landscape of Herakleia; according to Strabo, ‘there is to be seen the sepulchre of Endymion in a cave’, at a slight distance away from the city. This landmark acted as a permanent reminder of his myth in Herakleia and the wider region.25 Endymion was commemorated in a civic festival, and it is likely that his myth was the focus of a ritual or cult within the city.26 Rituals were central to the construction of religious and civic identity in the ancient world, and played an active role in shaping the versions of mythology and history that were propagated; through the celebration of festivals and the participation in cults, local traditions and mythologies were reinforced and incorporated into civic discourse.27 The employment of verse in the inscribed text may indicate that it originated as part of the festivities themselves, though the process of its public inscription endowed

21

22 23 24 25

26

27

Euromos on behalf of those who had been aggrieved by the Herakleians (ll. 19–20). W. Blümel (I. Mylasa: 27) suggests that the Herakleian aggression mentioned in I. Mylasa 102 could be the result of the perceived threat of Mylasan expansion in the region. The date of I. Mylasa 102 is not known; Blümel (I. Mylasa 26; 31) placed it at the end of the second/first half of the first century bc , though an earlier date in the first half of the second century bc can be proposed on the basis of letter forms, notably, the straight-barred alpha; cf. Reger 2004: 168, who dates it to the early second century bc . The Mylaseis are described as seizing Euromos in 167 bc , which might suggest that the sympoliteia had ended by this point; see Livy 45. 25. 11–13; Plb. 30. 5. 12–16. Sappho, Fr. 199; Apollonius Rhodius 4. 55–65; Theocritus, Idyll 20. 37–39; Strab. 14. 1. 8; Quint. Smyrn. Fall of Troy 10, 127–137; Nonn. Dionys. 4. 194–196; 13. 554–556. See the comments of Laumonier (1958: 548, n. 3) and Bremmer (2009: 306) on the possible Anatolian origins of the name Endymion. Musée du Louvre no. 60, l. 8: τὸν ἀεικοίματον ὕ[πνον]. Musée du Louvre no. 60, l. 9. Musée du Louvre no. 60, l. 6: σε δάμος ὅν κτίσεν Ἐνδυμίων. Strab. 14. 1. 8: δείκνυται τάφος Ἐνδυμίωνος ἔν τινι σπηλαίῳ. In both the Salmakis inscription and the Magnesian ‘origin myth’, the myth of Endymion is entwined with Mt. Latmos. Robert 1980: 351–353; cf. Robert 1978: 477–490. Peschlow-Bindokat 2005: 22–23, has sought to identify the tomb of Endymion with a monumental built tomb located near the agora at Herakleia-under-Latmos, which she labels a ‘heroön’; she suggests a date in the fourth century bc , though O. Henry (private correspondence) dates it to the Hellenistic period. The closest parallel is the built tomb at Labraunda, and it seems more likely that the Herakleian tomb served as the burial for a prominent local figure. A possible contender could be Pleistarchos, who used Herakleia as his base, and named the city after himself (Steph. Byz. s.v. Πλειστάρχεια). Cf. Peschlow-Bindokat 2005: 5. Cf. Graf 2009: 344–345, regarding the ritual that developed around the myth of the birth of Apollo and Artemis at Ortygia, near Ephesos. See p. 65.

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the text with an enduring commemorative value.28 While its archaeological context is not known, the block on which it was inscribed appears to have been architectural, and we can conclude that it was displayed on a public building in Herakleia.29 The text itself was monumentalised, and this version of the Endymion myth received official sanction; though it may already have been codified as part of a civic festival. The Salmakis inscription from Halikarnassos offers another snapshot of civic mythology as conceived during the Hellenistic period.30 Again, the text was written in verse, and narrated the history of the city and the various figures associated with its foundation. It opens with the question to Aphrodite Schoinitis, ‘what is it that brings honour to Halikarnassos? For I have never been told. What words does she utter when she proudly boasts?’31 The great events in Halikarnassos’ past are then enumerated in different stages: the infant Zeus Akraios32 is said to have been sheltered from Kronos in the vicinity, and there was protected by ‘an illustrious crop of earth-born men’;33 the nymph Salmakis is then described as having bathed Hermaphroditos in her stream;34 another episode recounted how Athena led Pegasos and Bellerophon to the site: 23 25

Παλλάς τε πτερόεντες ἐπηέριον δαματῆρα Πηγάσου οἰκιστὴν ἐσθλὸν ἐπηγάγετο ἔνθ’ ὅτε δὴ στείψασα μετ’ ἴχνεσι Βελλεροφόντεω Πηδασίδος γαίης τέρμονας ἱδρύεται.

And Pallas brought the tamer of Pegasos, moving in the sky, to be a noble settler, after the time when she trod in the tracks of Bellerophontes and fixed the boundaries of the land of Pedasos.35

The longevity and significance of this myth at Halikarnassos is confirmed by the appearance of Pegasos on civic coinage from the fifth/fourth centuries 28

29 30

31

32 33 34 35

The Hymn to Zeus and the Kouretes from Palaikastro offers a parallel to the Herakleian text; it was inscribed during the Hellenistic period, though it is thought to date to the fourth century bc ; see Bremmer 2009: 295. It recorded the myth and ritual surrounding the cult of Zeus at Palaikastro, and it appears to be an inscribed record of a text that was originally composed for the celebration of a ritual at the site. Cf. Alonge 2008. Dimensions: height 0.56 m; width 0.31 m; depth 0.185 m. Ed. pr. Isager 1998. Cf. Lloyd-Jones 1999; Merkelbach and Stauber 1998: 01/12/02; SEG 48. 1330. See also Isager and Pedersen 2004; Gagné 2006; Bremmer 2009. Ll. 3–4: τῆς Ἁλικαρνασσοῦ τί τὸ τίμιον; οὐ γὰρ ἔγωγε | ἔκλυον ἢ τί θροεῖ γαῦρα φρυασσομένη. On the unusual epithet Schoinitis, see Bremmer 2009: 293. On Akraios as an epithet, see Laumonier 1958: 628–634; Bremmer 2009: 294. Ll. 5–14. On the identification of these figures as kouretes, see pp. 86–87. Ll. 15–20. Translation H. Lloyd-Jones 1999. On the toponyms Pedasos, Pedasa, Pidasa, see Lloyd-Jones 1999: 8.

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bc and into the Hellenistic period.36 The poem continues by awarding roles in Halikarnassian history to the figures of Kranaos, the mythological early king of Athens,37 Endymion38 and Anthes, the Troizenian founder of Halikarnassos.39 Ariadne, the daughter of Minos, is also mentioned, which might be an allusion to the Cretan connection, although the precise context is not clear.40 The verse also incorporated the more recent cultural achievements of native Halikarnassians, and the text ends by commemorating some of the more illustrious sons of the city. Herodotus is celebrated as ‘the prose Homer in the realm of history’,41 while Panyassis is described as ‘the glorious lord of verse’.42 This celebration of the Halikarnassos’ literary talents finds a number of echoes in a Hellenistic epigram discovered on Rhodes, which is thought to be of a similar date: λ̣ά̣ϊ̣ν̣ο̣[ν Ἀ]σ̣συρίη [χῶμ]α Σεμι[ρά]μιος· ἀλλ̣’ Ἄ̣ν̣δ̣ρ̣ωνα̣ οὐκ ἔσχε Νίνου πόλις, οὐδὲ παρ’ Ἰνδοῖς ῥ̣ι̣ζ̣οφυὴς Μουσέων πτόρθος ἐνετρέφετο· [κοὐ] μ̣ὴ̣ν̣ Ἡροδότου γλύκιον στόμα καὶ Πανύασσιν ἡ̣[δυ]ε̣π̣ῆ̣ Βαβυλὼν ἔτρεφεν ὠγυγίη, ἀ̣λλ’ Ἁλικαρνασσοῦ κραναὸν πέδον· ὧν διὰ μολπὰς κ̣λ̣ει̣τὸν ἐν Ἑλλήνων ἄστεσι κῦδος ἔχει Assyria (has) the stone-mound of Semiramis. But the city of Ninos did not bring forth an Andron, neither did such offspring of the Muses shoot from the ground among the Indians. Primeval Babylon did not nourish a mouth like that of Herodotus’ which is even sweeter, nor Panyassis with his sweet words, but the rugged earth of Halikarnassos did. Through their songs does she enjoy a renown among the cities of the Hellenes.43 36

37

38 39 40 41 42

43

See Chapter 1, n. 133; Figure 5. The role of Bellerophon and Pegasos in the history of a number of communities in both Caria and Lycia was discussed in Chapter 1. Ll. 27–28. Kranaos was also the name of one of the tribes at Kaunos; see Chapter 2, n. 66. Coins minted bearing the legend KPAN have been discovered in Caria and on Rhodes, which might indicate the existence of a settlement named after Kranaos in the region (SNG Keckman nos. 219–220); see now Pliny, NH 5. 29. Cf. Walker 1978; challenged by Ashton 2006: 6. Ll. 29–30. Ll. 31–32. Steph. Byz. s.v. Ἁλικαρνασσός. L. 37. On the basis of the appearance of Ariadne, Isager restored line 33: [Ῥαδαμά]νθυος. L. 43: τὸν πεζὸν ἐν ἱστορίαισιν Ὅμηρον. L. 45: ἐπῶν ἀπίσημον ἄνακτα. Halikarnassos is further described as having ‘nourished the renowned power of Andron’ (Ἄνδρωνος θρέψε κλυτὴν δύναμιν) (l. 44). Other figures mentioned include ‘Kyprias, the poet of the tale of Ilium’, ‘Menestheus, excelling in the realm of the Muses’, ‘the holy spirit of Theatetos’, ‘Dionysios, the poet of comedy’, ‘Zenodotos, skilful in tragic verses’, ‘Phanostratos, a poet delighting in the sacred garlands of the sons of Kekrops’, ‘Nossos, an indicator of time in his histories’ and ‘Timokrates, the accomplished poet’ (ll. 46–55). IG 12. 1. 145; SEG 28. 842 (following Ebert 1986; SEG 36. 975). Translation Isager 1998: 16.

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Again, the cultural achievements of Herodotus, Andron and Panyassis are praised, and compared favourably to those of the great empires of Assyria and Babylon.44 In extolling the history and intellectual achievements of the polis, both inscriptions sought to distinguish Halikarnassos within the broader milieu of the Hellenistic world and confirm its status as a cultural centre. As the Salmakis poem concludes, ‘the reward of the righteous, that brings all honours, is hers, and by means of her noble doings she lays claim to the most glorious of garlands’.45 The polis itself was vaunting its achievements by drawing on its rich history. Based on the letter forms, S. Isager suggested a date in the mid-to-late second century bc for the Salmakis inscription;46 G.  D’Alessio described the style of the verse as typical of Hellenistic poetry in the late second/ early first century bc .47 In subject and structure, the text is connected to the cultural trends that were developing across the Mediterranean. The Callimachean echoes in the opening lines of the inscription were noted by Isager in the editio princeps,48 and D’Alessio has subsequently elaborated on the poetic borrowings from Callimachus and other poets, both in the Salmakis poem and in the Rhodian epigram.49 The choice of elegiac verse indicates the wide audience for such poetry, and further reveals the cultural ambitions of Halikarnassos as a centre of learning. It can be proposed that it was the demos of Halikarnassos, or rather the governing officials acting on its behalf, who were responsible for commissioning both works. It is not known whether the poem was composed for the purpose of inscription; its celebratory nature and the choice of verse as the medium might indicate that it was initially written for performance. But what difference does the fact of its display make to our interpretation of the poem? We are fortunate that the architectural setting of the Salmakis

44 45

46

47 48

49

Cf. Isager 1998: 16. On Ninos and Semiramis in Anatolia, see pp. 97–98. Ll. 59–60: εὐσεβέων πάντιμον ἔχει γέρας, ἔν τ’ ἀγαθοῖσιν |ἔ̣ρ̣γοις κυδίστων ἀντέχεται στεφάνων. Cf. ll. 6–7 of the Rhodian epigram. Isager 1998: 6. One can note the broken-barred alpha; the even legs of the nu; the parallel sigma and mu. D’Alessio 2004: 51. Isager 1998: 9. The opening address to the god in the Salmakis inscription (ἔννεπέ μοι, Σχοινῖτι, φίλον τιθάσε[υμα μεριμνων,]| Κύπρι, μυροπνεύστων ἐμπελάτειρα Πό[θων]; ‘Tell me, Schoinitis, dear tamer of our cares, you, Kypris, who bring close to us Desires scented with myrrh’) recalls Callimachus Epigram 6 (Loeb), ll. 1–2: Κόγχος ἐγώ, Ζεφυρῐτι, πάλαι τέρας· ἀλλὰ σὺ νῦν με, | Κύπρι, Σεληναίης ἄνθεμα πρῶτον ἔχεις; ‘An old shell am I, O Lady of Zephyrium, but now, Kypris, I am thine, a first offering from Selenaia’. See also Lloyd-Jones 1999: 3. D’Alessio 2004: 43–57; he concluded (50–51) that they belong to the same milieu, perhaps even the same poet, and that both pieces were influenced by the work of Meleager. Meleager was a first-century bc poet who spent his later life on nearby Kos.

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inscription can be securely reconstructed. The text was discovered in situ on the promontory of Kaplan Kalesi (identified as Salmakis), located to the south of the main harbour of ancient Halikarnassos. It was inscribed in two columns along the back wall of a structure that has been identified as a fountain complex, and is thought to be related to the Salmakis fountain known from Strabo and Vitruvius; alongside the Maussolleion, it was one of the significant public monuments in Halikarnassos. Visitors who made the journey to the fountain would be rewarded with views across the bay of Halikarnassos.50 The public inscription of historical traditions functioned as another form of civic monumentalisation. In the majority of the examples discussed, it appears that the texts were initially composed to serve a particular function, whether in diplomacy, or as part of civic festivals; however, the decision to inscribe the texts endowed them with official endorsement. It is not possible to ascertain the impact this had on the transmission of these mythologies, though other variants would have continued to circulate in different channels. It is interesting to note that the version of the foundation of Cyrene as inscribed in the decree differs from the accounts transmitted in other sources;51 similarly, the Magnesian text emphasises the Cretan link. But the commemorative display of such texts reveals the active role of a community in constructing a particular image of its history, and the centrality of the past in bestowing prestige. A parallel can be sought in sculpture: the second-century bc temple frieze from Lagina has been interpreted as a visual representation of local mythologies.52 Similarly, the basilica reliefs from Aphrodisias portrayed the various founding figures of the city, and reveal something about polis self-representation during the Imperial period.53 A community invested in such monuments in order to forge a particular civic image; it also offered a degree of permanence and official sanction to the version of events recorded. The image projected should be interpreted primarily in the historical context in which it was formed. The inscriptions from both Halikarnassos and Herakleia reflect the version of their civic identity that they deemed

50

51 52 53

Strab. 14. 2. 16; Vit. De Arch. 2. 8. 11–12. Cf. Ov. Met. 4. 285–388. The inscription was discovered in the so-called ‘Room III’ of the structure, which appears to have served as a basin, indicated by a water mark running along the wall; whether this was a feature of the original Hellenistic structure is not clear. Cf. Pedersen 2004: 19–23. Hdt. 4. 150–162. Lagina frieze: Baumeister 2007. Cf. Lloyd-Jones 1999: 5; Isager 2004: 12. See p. 82. IAph2007 6. 1. See Chapter 1, n. 147.

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The Civic Context of the ‘Origin Myth’

worthy at that time; similarly, the ‘origin myth’ of Magnesia constructs an image of civic history that accorded with the wider social and political preoccupations of the city in the last quarter of the third century bc .

The Civic Context of the ‘Origin Myth’ The historical context in which the ‘origin myth’ was displayed can be reconstructed securely. It formed part of the dossier of documents inscribed in the west stoa of the agora at Magnesia that related to the delegations sent out by the city in 208 bc . The success of the appeal to upgrade the Leukophryena was an event of great prestige for Magnesia, and the decision to display all the documents together commemorated this event in the civic landscape. As noted in the previous chapter, the public inscription of ‘archives’ became increasingly frequent during the Hellenistic and Roman periods.54 They were not comprehensive accounts of a city’s records, as in the modern sense of the word; rather, they were inscribed collections of selected documents that related to a specific occurrence or series of correspondence.55 They served as a visual reference point in the city to commemorate particular events; whether they were regularly read and consulted remains unknown.56 The Leukophryena archive served as an official record of an important event; however, its monumental function is also confirmed by its location in the agora, at the heart of Magnesia. The west stoa was located adjacent to a structure identified as the prytaneion, in the southwestern corner of the agora. The prytaneion served as the public dining hall and focus of hospitality for foreign delegations in the city:57 the collection of documents appears to have been situated in such a way as to be highly visible to both citizens and visitors. The intended accessibility of the documents is further suggested by the attempts made to order the documents. The favourable replies were inscribed along the back wall of the stoa, arranged in roughly geographical groupings and in many cases distinguished by headings.58 54 55 56 57

58

See pp. 139–140. Thomas 1989: 72–73. See Thomas (1989: 49) on the symbolic significance of inscribed texts. Miller 1978: 112–115. Honours voted to the Magnesian ambassadors frequently included the right to dine in the prytaneion, e.g. I. Magnesia 35 (Rigsby Asylia no. 85) l. 32; I. Magnesia 37 (Rigsby Asylia no. 87) ll. 36–37; I. Magnesia 48 (Rigsby Asylia no. 98) ll. 30–31; I. Magnesia 49 (Rigsby Asylia no. 99) ll. 9–10; I. Magnesia 50 (Rigsby Asylia no. 100) ll. 66–67. Rigsby Asylia: 180. The lower courses of the wall were constructed in marble, running to a height of 2.36 m, and no texts were inscribed above the moulding. Generally, attempts seem to have been made to divide the texts so there was one on each slab, except where the texts were especially long or short.

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Inscribing History at Magnesia-on-the-Maeander

Within this scheme, the ‘origin myth’ was set apart and displayed on the so-called ‘Pfeilerwand’ that terminated the stoa at the south end. It appears to have been grouped with other documents considered of special interest or importance, including the favourable responses of the different Hellenistic kings.59 Another text, I. Magnesia 16, recorded the initial unsuccessful attempt of the Magnesians to upgrade their civic games in 221 bc : according to the text, the Magnesians had been prompted to act following an epiphany of Artemis and an oracle from Delphi.60 It is unusual for a community to record a failed petition; P. Thonemann has suggested that the Magnesians made this exception as an attempt to establish the antiquity of the divine endorsement for their appeal. Even though this earlier attempt did not meet with success, it was still regarded as prestigious.61 Another text inscribed on the ‘Pfeilerwand’ was a document meant to be read in tandem with the ‘origin myth’, I. Magnesia 20 (Figure 8). Again, it was distinguished with a heading (l. 1: πα[ρ]ὰ τοῦ κοινοῦ τῶν Κρητῶν). It is presented as an Archaic decree of the Cretan koinon, dated to the time of the original migration of the Magnesian settlers to Anatolia, and awarding them certain entitlements:62

10

59

60 61

62

ἐπειδὴ Μάγνητες οἰκεῖοί ἐντι καὶ φίλοι Κρηταιέων πάντων, ἔδοξεν δέ τισιν αὐτῶν ἐς τὰν Ἀσίαν ἀποικίαν στείλασθαι̣, ὑπάρχειν Μάγνησιν πᾶσιν οἰκειότατα καὶ φιλίαν ἀγήρατον καὶ ἐμ πρυτανείωι σίτησιν, καὶ εἰσάγουσιν καὶ ἐξάγουσιν ἀτέλειαν εἶμεν ἀσυλεὶ καὶ ἀσπονδεὶ κατὰ πᾶσαγ Κρήταγ καὶ ἔγκτησιν καὶ πολιτείαν,

Attalos I: I. Magnesia 22 (Rigsby Asylia no. 68). Antiochos III: I. Magnesia 18 (Rigsby Asylia no. 69). Antiochos son of Antiochos III: I. Magnesia 19 (Rigsby Asylia no. 70). Ptolemy IV: I. Magnesia 23 (Rigsby Asylia no. 71). In I. Magnesia 24 (Rigsby Asylia no. 72) there is reference to a king: βασιλ[εὺς….]; through a process of elimination, Philip V seems likely. I. Magnesia 16 (Rigsby Asylia no. 66). Thonemann 2007 notes that the neighbouring city of Miletos had sought to raise the status of their festival and games in honour of Apollo Didymeus at the end of the third century bc . The date of the Milesian attempt is not clear, although Thonemann suggests that it was upgraded between 221 and 208 bc ; thus the Magnesians included the reference to their first failed attempt in order to prove that they were the ‘first of those dwelling in Asia’ to receive oracular sanction (159–160). There was undoubtedly a competitive element to the Magnesians’ attempt; the close chronology of their upgrade attempts, and the proximity of the two cities, could hint at a rivalry between Miletos and Magnesia-on-the-Maeander. See the discussion below on the conflicts between the two cities. This is one of the few epigraphic references to the Cretan league as a koinon; see Chapter 4, n. 88.

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15

20

25

δόμεν δὲ αὐτοῖς ἀποπλέουσιν ἑκάστα[μ] πόλιν ἀργυρίω τέσσαρα τάλαντα κα[ὶ σῖ]τομ πεπονημένον καὶ ἱερεῖα ὅσ’ ἂν θέ[λω][σ]ι̣ν̣ [α]ὐ̣[τ]οὶ εἰς θυσίαν, [π]ροπέμψαι [δὲ] αὐτοὺς μέχρι εἰς τὰν Ἀσίαν ταῖς μακραῖς ναυσὶν καὶ συμπέμψαι αὐτοῖς τοξότας εἰς πεντακοσίους ἄνδρας, προπέμψαι δὲ καὶ ἀσπάσασθαι αὐτοὺς καὶ ἄνδρας καὶ παῖδας καὶ γυναῖκας καθ’ ἁλικίαν καὶ τοὺς ἱερεῖς καὶ τὰς ἱερείας· τὸ δὲ ψάφισμα τόδε εἰστάλαν λιθίναν ἀναγράψαντας ἀναθέμεν εἰς τὸ ἱερὸν τῶ Ἀ[πέλ]λ̣ωνος τῶ Βιλκωνίω, δόμεν δὲ καὶ Λευ[κίππωι τ]ῶ̣ι̣ Λυκίωι τῶι καθαγεμόνι γενομένωι εἰς τὰν Ἀσί[αν Κρήτα]ς πάσας πόλεις ἀργυρίω τάλαντον·

Since the Magnesians are relations and friends of all Cretans, it seemed good to some of them that a colonial expedition should leave for Asia, to begin closest familiarity and undying friendship with all Magnesians and public maintenance in the prytaneion, and (the Magnesians are) to be exempt from burdens importing and exporting, enjoying immunity from seizure and neutrality through all Crete, and the right to own land and possess citizenship, to give to each of those sailing away four talents and grain, the city having endured hardship, and as many victims for (their) sacrifices as they desire, to accompany them as far as Asia with long ships and to send with them archers up to five hundred, to accompany and take leave of them, men, women and children according to age, and the priests and

Figure 8 Squeeze of I. Magnesia 20. Inscriptiones Graecae, Berlin

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Inscribing History at Magnesia-on-the-Maeander priestesses. (It was decided to) write up this decree on a stone stele and set it up in the temple of Apollo Bilkonios, (it also seemed good) that all Cretan cities should give a talent of silver to Leukippos the Lycian, who had become the leader (of the colonists) to Asia.

This falsified decree purported to date to the ‘Dark Ages’, though its adherence to the standardised form and language employed in Hellenistic diplomatic transactions indicates that its composition was later.63 It was designed to verify the narrative preserved in the ‘origin myth’. However, the fact that it was a forgery does not mean it was considered less valid by the Magnesians; it was intended to strengthen the mythological ties claimed elsewhere.64 In the text, the ancestral affiliation between the Magnesians and ‘all Cretans’ was claimed, with the Cretan koinon described as offering material aid to the Magnesians, as well as an escort on their voyage. A number of standard honours were also bestowed by the Cretans, including inviolability and exemption from taxes, and the right to own land. A further text, I. Magnesia 21, lists a number of Cretan cities, likely the members of the koinon that supported the endeavour of the Magnesians.65 While the decree is a fake, the privileges extended to the Magnesians, and the endorsement of the undersigned Cretan cities, should not be dismissed as fabrication; rather, it appears to be claiming historical endorsement for current relations.

Shaping the Past The collective and continual process of remembering or recollecting the past was an essential means for a city to establish its historical identity. The Magnesians were recollecting their history as it had been transmitted over time, but also as it was realised in a specific historical context at the end of the third century bc . The inscribed ‘origin myth’ emphasised the links of the city with Crete, despite the existence of a variant account that awarded a prominent role to Delphi. The Delphian version of Magnesian history persisted alongside the Cretan version in the literary sources; but in the inscribed text, this aspect seems to have been elided.66 F. Prinz considered 63

64 65

66

Chaniotis (1999d: 62–63) notes that the falsifier knew the specific features of Cretan decrees, and adopted the Cretan dialect. Cf. Thomas 1989: 92–93. I. Magnesia 21. The cities listed: [Μ]ι̣λάτι[οι], Ἀπταραῖοι, Ἐλτύνιοι, Κεραιῖται, Ἀλλαριῶται, Πολυρρ̣ήνιοι, Φαλασάρνιοι, Ἀρσινοεῖς. Although the ‘origin myth’ itself is incomplete, the inscription of I. Magnesia 20 and 21 alongside it indicates that the Cretan narrative was prominent.

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Shaping the Past

the tale relating the temporary settlement of the Magnesians on Crete as a Hellenistic insertion into the ‘original’ foundation myth, which eventually replaced the earlier myth that awarded a leading role to Delphi.67 While I agree that the prominence of the Cretan element warrants further attention, we should be wary of any attempt to reconstruct an ‘original’ version of a foundation tale, or indeed speak of it as a tangible thing. There is little evidence to support the notion that the Cretan tradition was solely a Hellenistic addition: the tale of Leukippos as recounted by Parthenius was derived from the Leontium of Hermesianax of Kolophon, an author thought to have been active in the early third century bc . The notion of a Cretan polis called Magnesia can also be traced to Plato’s Laws.68 While the social significance of particular mythologies can best be understood in the contexts in which they are told, it would be presumptuous to assume that this tradition can only be dated from its first attestation in our sources. We are only ever afforded a partial view of civic mythologies, which does not permit us to label certain aspects as ‘genuine’ and others as ‘corruptions’;69 attempting to do so is to misunderstand the social significance of traditions in civic discourse. Communal memory was constructed in accordance with societal and cultural trends. The Magnesians perceived a greater relevance to the Cretan episode in their history in the context of the late third century bc ; they played a role, whether deliberate or subconscious, in shaping the version of their history that was transmitted. It is more profitable to ask what the Cretan aspect of their history meant to the Magnesians at this particular time. As developed in the previous chapter, the social and political conditions in both southwestern Anatolia and Crete were far from secure at the end of the third century bc . In particular, the rise of Philip V’s influence in the Aegean, and his appointment as prostatēs of the Cretan koinon, had an impact on the involvement of Crete in the regional networks.70 S. Dušanič has proposed that it was Philip V’s influence on Crete that was instrumental in the Magnesian efforts to establish the antiquity of their relationship with the island, in what he terms ‘a diplomatically self-serving collaboration’ between Magnesia and the pro-Macedonian Cretans.71 67

68 69

70 71

See the discussion of Prinz 1979: 111ff. In the response of Delphi (Rigsby Asylia no. 79), the nature of their relationship is framed in terms of the Magnesians as οἰκεῖοι (l. 4). Plat. Laws 848d; 860e; 946b; 969a. On Parthenius’ account, see pp. 78–79. See the comments of Thomas 2011: 89: ‘If one speaks of distortion or change in a genealogy, one is in a sense speaking from a modern literate standpoint, assuming that there is an “original text”, as it were, from which there are deviations.’ See pp. 158–159. Dušanič 1983: 20.

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Dušanič is correct to stress the historical context in the interpretation of the ‘origin myth’, though the emphasis on the influence of a particular dynast is less persuasive. While Philip’s influence on Crete had been established by the time of the Magnesian delegations in 208 bc , the unity of the island was not assured.72 The political allegiance of Magnesia at this time is also far from certain. Philip V campaigned in southwestern Anatolia in 201 bc , and seems to have looked favourably on the Magnesians, when he awarded the city of Myus to them. But this agreement was said to have been concluded in return for supplies,73 and there is no evidence that Magnesia was pro-Macedonian in 208 bc .74 While Philip V supported the Magnesian delegation in Chalkis,75 the endorsement of all the dynasties was sought, and received, by the Magnesians in the upgrade of the Leukophryena.76 Rather than seeking an overtly political agenda behind the Magnesian ‘origin myth’, I wonder whether the text can be better read in a context of interaction between Magnesia-on-the-Maeander and Crete, as a means of reinforcing diplomatic ties with the island. As discussed, the Magnesian theoroi cited the assistance they had offered the Cretans in resolving their ‘civil war’, identified with the Lyttian War of 221–219 bc . It can be supposed that Magnesian assistance came in the form of arbitration, a role they are known to have taken again on Crete in the second century bc ; first in a dispute between Gortyn and Knossos,77 and later between Itanos and Hierapytna.78 The exact date of the composition of the ‘origin myth’ cannot be established: it is unclear whether it was composed at the time of the original attempt in 221 bc , or in order to bolster their argumentation in 208 bc ; though it can be noted that the initial attempt of the Magnesians to gain stephanitic status 72 73

74

75

76 77

78

The Cretan koinon appears to have broken down by the 205/4 bc ; see p. 142. Plb. 16. 24. 8–9: Philip, ‘being in want of food for his soldiers, obtained figs from the Magnesians as they had no corn, and on taking Myus presented it to the Magnesians in return for the figs’ (ἀπορῶν τροφῶν τοῖς στρατιώταις παρὰ Μαγνήτων, ἐπεὶ σῖτον οὐκ εἶχον, σῦκα ἔλαβε. διὸ καὶ Μυοῦντος κυριεύσας τοῖς Μάγνησιν ἐχαρίσατο τὸ χωρίον ἀντὶ τῶν σύκων). Philip also devastated the land of Alabanda, claiming it was necessary to procure food. Rigsby (Asylia 194 with n. 45) has suggested that Magnesia was under Attalid influence at the time, citing the tribe named after Attalos (I. Magnesia 89, ll. 6–7: φυλῆς προεδρευ̣[ού]|[σ]η̣ς Ἀτταλίδος; I. Magnesia 98, l. 3). I. Magnesia 47 (Rigsby Asylia no. 97), ll. 1–3: [ἐπειδὴ ὁ β]ασιλεὺς Φίλι[π]πος | ἔγρα[ψε]ν τῆι βουλῆι κ[αὶ τῶι] δήμ[ωι] περὶ [Μ]αγνή|των τῶν ἐπὶ Μαιάνδρωι. See this chapter, n. 59. I. Magnesia 65 a and b; IC 4. 176; IC 1. 8. 9; Ager Interstate Arbitration no. 127. It is further instructive that the decrees associated with Magnesian arbitration on Crete were published as part of the archive wall; the honorific decree voted by the Knossians for two Magnesian citizens also appears to have been inscribed nearby (I. Magnesia 67). I. Magnesia 105 a and b; IC 3. 4. 9 (Ager Interstate Arbitration no. 158).

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for their civic games occurred in a similar historical context to the Lyttian War.79 In either scenario, the establishment of links between Magnesia and the communities of Crete created the opportunity for certain aspects of civic mythologies to be privileged over others. It is possible to envisage the ‘Cretan’ version of their history gaining prominence in light of such interaction and Magnesian intercession on Crete. That does not necessarily mean that the tale relating the settlement of the Magnesians on Crete was a Hellenistic invention, but rather that it came to acquire a new significance, and perhaps embellishment, in this historical context. There was a further dimension to Magnesian–Cretan relations with the settlement of Cretan mercenaries in the vicinity of Magnesia in 234/3 bc and 229/8 bc .80 They were settled at Hybandis, near Myus, a territory located between Magnesia and Miletos, and which had long been disputed between the two cities (Map 9). At the time the territory belonged to Miletos, although, as noted, Myus and its Cretan inhabitants were awarded to Magnesia by Philip V in 201 bc . This did not settle the affair, and the two cities are again found in conflict regarding the same tract of land in the early second century bc . The chronology of this conflict is unclear: our knowledge is primarily based on the peace treaty finalised between Miletos and Magnesia, and their respective allies Herakleia and Priene, at the end of the dispute.81 The engagement had traditionally been dated to 196 bc , though following the proposal of R.M. Errington for a later date, it is now commonly placed in the late 180s bc .82 It certainly appears to date after the isopoliteia treaty between Herakleia and Miletos,83 itself dated to the mid-180s bc , which seems to have paved the way for their alliance against Magnesia.84 The terms of the isopoliteia treaty between Miletos and Herakleia reveal that the region around Myus had been returned to Milesian territory by this time; the clause whereby the Milesians were given the right to drive their cattle free of duty through Herakleian territory was only beneficial when Herakleian land lay between Milesian districts.85 The point at which this occurred is not known; it may have taken place in the aftermath of the defeat of Antiochos III and the Peace of Apameia in 188 bc , whereby, according to Polybius, the ‘sacred district’ (ἱερὰ χώρα) was returned to

79 80 81 82 83 84 85

Cf. Chaniotis 1988a: 34–39. See Chapter 4, n. 47. Milet 1. 3. 148. See Ma 2003: 29, on the network of cities called upon to broker the peace. Errington 1989; cf. the reservations of Wörrle 2004. See this chapter, n. 18. Errington 1989: 282. Wörrle 2004: 50–51.

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Ephesos

Marathesion

Magnesia/ Maeander

SAMOS

K MY

E AL

M. Priene

Myus LATMOS M Herakleia/ Latmos

Lade Miletos

GR Didyma

Pidasa

IO

N Euromos M .

Iasos 0 0

5

10 5

15

20 10

25 km 15 miles

Map 9 The region around Miletos and Magnesia-on-the-Maeander

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Miletos.86 But the territory around Hybandis and Myus remained a contentious issue between Magnesia and Miletos into the second century bc . In the Miletos–Magnesia peace treaty, their frontier is established at the Hybandis River; the exact location of this river is no longer easy to establish, but it is clear that it was somewhere on the north side of the Latmos lake, in the vicinity of Hybandis.87 The ramifications of their conflict went beyond territorial boundaries, and also involved the significant population of Cretans settled in the region. The level of the integration of these Cretans into the local community remains unclear. While the settlers were initially enrolled into the citizen body of Miletos, and swore to defend the city and its forts, A. Chaniotis has noted that they were not allowed to serve in the office of the phrourarchos until twenty years after their arrival in Miletos, suggesting that their incorporation was not complete.88 After Philip V granted Myus to Magnesia in 201 bc , these Cretans were incorporated into the citizen body of Magnesia;89 however, they still seemed to have been regarded as a distinct community, and the Magnesians subsequently discussed terms for their return to the island.90 But even if these Cretans remained separate within the population, it remains significant that considerable groups of Cretans had settled in Caria. While some of these settlers may have eventually settled back on the island, there is no reason to suppose that many others did not make southwestern Anatolia their permanent home, resulting in social and cultural interaction with the native population.91 As noted above, a survey of the settlers’ names appears to indicate intermarriage with the local population; it thus seems probable that these Cretans had been resident in the region for some time ‘unofficially’ (that is, before becoming citizens), and had already established personal ties and families in Anatolia.92 The migration of Cretans away from their homeland did not mean that they completely 86

87 88 89 90

91 92

Plb. 21. 46. 5. Cf. Wörrle 2004: 49–50. This would further have implications for the date of the Magnesian arbitration between Knossos and Gortyn, in which the Magnesians are seen attempting to arrange the return of the Cretans settled near Myus to their native cities, though their proposal was rejected: I. Magnesia 65a and b; IC 4. 176; IC 1. 8. 9; Interstate Arbitrations no. 127. At the time of the arbitration, Myus must have been part of Magnesian territory. The decree mentioned the role of a βασιλεὺς Πτολεμαῖος, but it is not clear which Ptolemy is meant; cf. Wörrle 2004: 56, n. 68. Milet 1. 3. 148, l. 28ff. Cf. Wörrle 2004: 47–48. Chaniotis 2002: 105. Milet 1. 3. 37d, 65ff.; 37e, 82ff. Plb. 16. 24. 9. As part of their arbitration between Knossos and Gortyn: see this chapter, n. 77. Cf. Launey 1987: 277–278, 663–664. Brulé 1978: 163–164; contra Launey 1987: 276–277, 279. Hitchman 2010: 51–52.

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assimilated the identity of their new location, and there are indications that they remained distinctly Cretan.93 Their settlement can also be tentatively linked to the toponym Krētinaion in the region around Magnesia, perhaps in reference to a characteristically ‘Cretan’ establishment, whether social or religious, in the local landscape.94 It is worth stressing the role of foreign mercenaries as social actors in the cities they visited; they were in a position to challenge the boundaries between the community and ‘outsiders’ through their interaction and integration with the population.95 The interaction of these Cretan settlers at Hybandis with the local population could have led to an increased awareness of mythological and historical traditions connecting Crete with the communities of the region. In the case of Miletos, the traditions linking the early history of the city with Crete were not of remote significance in their dealings with the Cretan settlers; rather, they played an important role in the mediation of relations. In a decree dated to after the second round of citizenship grants in 229/228 bc, Miletos makes explicit reference to their historical kinship as a means of validation: ἐπειδὴ πρὸς Κρῆτας ὑπαρχούσης οἰκειότητος καὶ συγγενε[ίας ἀπὸ τοῦ θεοῦ] συγκειμένης δὲ καὶ συμμαχίας, ἣν διὰ πατέρων ὁ δῆμο[ς κατὰ τὰ] διὰ τῶν ψηφισθέντων ὡρισμένα τετήρηκεν, ὡς προσ[ῆκον ἦν ἀπὸ τοῦ] θεοῦ τὴν ἀρχὴν τῆς συγενείας εἰλήφοσιν…96 Since there are links of familiarity and kinship to the Cretans [through the god (Apollo)], an alliance was agreed, which the demos have maintained from our ancestors’ time, according to what had been determined by vote, as was fitting (to people) that acquired the origin of their kinship from the god …97

The appeal to kinship was a means of promoting the success of the new settlement, in which, as C.P. Jones writes, Apollo was ‘both a promoter and a guarantor of its success’.98 At the same time, it was through Milesian interaction with the Cretans in the region that this heightened awareness of their common history was generated.99 The inclusion of Cretans in the 93 94 95 96 97

98 99

Cf. Chaniotis 2004: 485–488. See pp. 79–80. Chaniotis 2002: 108–112; cf. Ma 2002. Milet 1. 3. 37a, ll. 1–5; Curty 1995 no. 56. The kinship was said to derive from the god Apollo, and it is therefore likely that the Milesians were alluding to the version of the myth in which Miletos was said to be the son of Apollo; see pp. 66–67. Cf. Jones 1999: 55. Jones 1999: 55. Earlier in the third century bc , Miletos is attested making treaties with Knossos and a number of Cretan cities, forbidding the enslavement of citizens; see Chapter 4, n. 151. The reference to an alliance in Milet 1. 3. 37a, l. 3, may be referring to this earlier treaty. An honorary

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Milesian polity, and their likely intermarriage with local women,100 would have encouraged the proliferation of traditions surrounding their common history. It became relevant to both Miletos and the poleis of Crete to remember their historical kinship. In the case of Magnesia, the presence of Cretans in the region could also have affected how they recollected their past, as a means of strengthening ties with the island and ensuring their endurance. The continued interaction between Magnesia and Crete into the second century bc witnessed the perpetuation of their claimed affiliation. An inscription from Hierapytna on Crete, dated to the early second century, honoured two ambassadors from Magnesia, and renewed their ‘ancestral familiarity and friendship’.101 It is in this context of mobility between Magnesia and Crete that the ‘origin myth’ of Magnesia was composed and inscribed; it was then perpetuated through continued interaction between Magnesia and the communities of Crete, and came to be an accepted part of the historical narrative of Magnesia. While it is not possible to deduce whether the role of Crete in the ‘origin myth’ was elaborating a pre-existing tradition, the decision to inscribe the text offers an invaluable insight into Magnesian civic self-perception and how it was moulded in response to the social and political dynamics of the Hellenistic period. It serves as a testament to the active role that a city could play in shaping and propagating its past. *

*

*

Contact between different regions generated opportunities for acquaintance and assimilation between cultures; at the same time, it caused a higher degree of self-reflection within communities and crystallised their own sense of identity. This chapter has addressed the factors that might have affected the transmission of historical mythologies associating the city of Magnesia-on-the-Maeander with the island of Crete during the Hellenistic period. I have suggested that they were renegotiated in response to a period of diplomatic interaction, as well as the long-term presence of Cretans in the vicinity. Crete was incorporated into Magnesia’s ‘network of relatedness’, and the inscribed ‘origin myth’ was

100 101

inscription for Lichas, voted by the Cretans (Milet 1. 2. 12a), may have been connected to the role he played in the settlement of the mercenaries in the region: see Launey 1987: 660–661; Boulay 2011: 216ff. Hitchman 2010: 51. IC 3. 3. 3. C, ll. 3–4: ἀ|νανεωμένων τὰν πατρίαν οἰκειότατα καὶ φιλίαν.

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one outward manifestation of the consolidation of these ties. The next chapter will focus in greater detail on the agency of individuals in generating cultural exchange. It will explore whether the mobility of Cretans in Caria during the Hellenistic period left a discernible trace in the cultural and religious life of individuals and/or communities in southwestern Anatolia by examining the evidence for the cult of a ‘Cretan-born’ Zeus in Caria at the end of the third century bc .

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6

A ‘Cretan-Born’ Zeus in Caria: Religious Mobility between Caria and Crete

A cult of Zeus Kretagenes/Kretagenetas is attested in three cities in Caria in the late third and early second centuries bc :  at Mylasa, Amyzon and Euromos.1 While the ‘Cretan’ character of the deity is patent, the exact nature of the cult is hard to establish: the associated priesthoods are only known from the epigraphic record, and there are no indications as to how the cult was celebrated or the iconography associated with it. While our evidence is scant, it is possible to say more about the cult than the fact of its existence. Principally we know that we are dealing with two variants of the cult: at Amyzon we find a cult to Zeus Kretagenetas and Diktynna, while at Mylasa the cult is to Zeus Kretagenes and the Kouretes; the full title of the cult at Euromos is not known. It is not the intention here to award these two relatively minor cults a disproportionate significance amid the complex religious landscape of Caria, or in Carian–Cretan relations; however, the unusual character of the cults should not be overlooked. No exact parallel for either cult is found on Crete (or elsewhere), which suggests that they were not direct imports from the island.2 Yet, it is the notion that they were Cretan that is central: the supposedly non-Carian origins of the cults were stressed. The circumstances in which a cult of Zeus Kretagenes/ Kretagenetas came to be practised in Caria during this period will be the focus of this chapter; more widely, this case study will be employed to explore the dynamics behind cultural and religious interchange in greater detail, with an emphasis on individuals as cultural agents. Again, the evidence will be contextualised against a background of interaction. Mobility in the networks of the southeast Aegean during the Hellenistic period generated multiple opportunities for confrontation and adaptation between

1

2

I. Mylasa 102, 107, 806; Robert and Robert Amyzon nos. 14 and 15 (Ma 1999: nos. 9 and 10); Errington 1993: no. 5 (SEG 43. 707; Ma 1999: no. 30). References to Zeus Kretagenes on Crete were frequent in oaths (SEG 26. 1049, l. 82; CIG 2554 B. l. 177), but that does not necessarily imply a specific cult. The earliest attestation of Zeus Kretagenes on Crete is from Lisos, where a reference is made to τὸν Δία τὸν Κρηταγενῆ (IC 2. 17. 1, l. 18) as part of an oath. It is dated to the first half of the third century bc through the reference to an alliance with king Magas of Cyrene (c.276–250 bc ).

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different peoples: religious interchange between Caria and Crete was one direct outcome of interaction.

The Evidence At the end of the third century bc , the holder of the priesthood of Zeus Kretagenetas and Diktynna was included in the Seleukid dating formula in two civic decrees from Amyzon. The first decree was in honour of Chionis, the governor of Alinda, and dated to October–November 202 bc : βασιλευόντων Ἀντιόχου Μεγάλου καὶ Ἀντιόχ[ου τοῦ υἱοῦ, ἔτους] ἑν[δ]εκάτου καὶ ἑκατο[σ]τοῦ, μηνὸς Δίου, ἐπὶ ἀρχιε[ρέως Νικάνορος, τοῦ] δὲ Διὸς τοῦ Κρηταγενέτα καὶ Δικτύννης Τιμαί[ου], ὡς [δὲ ὁ δῆμος ἄ]γει ἐπὶ στεφανηφόρου Ἀπόλλωνος, μηνὸς [Θεσ]μ̣οφοριῶνος· When Antiochos the great and Antiochos [the son] were kings, in the hundred and eleventh year in the month of Dios, in the high priesthood [of Nikanor] and under the tenure of Timaios as priest of Zeus Kretagenetas and Diktynna, and within the city in the tenure of Apollo as stephanephoros, in the month of Thesmophorion.3

The second extant decree, dated to November–December 201 bc , employed a similar formula: Antiochos III and his son being kings, Nikanor as high priest, and an unknown individual as priest of Zeus Kretagenetas and Diktynna.4 The employment of the official royal dating formula indicates that the city was under Seleukid control at the time. Antiochos III was attempting to reconquer Caria in the latter part of the third century bc , and his campaign involved the occupation of cities in the region. Another inscription, thought to be of a similar date, attests to the stationing of troops in the city; honours were voted to a group of soldiers and their officer, and the troops were commended for their discipline and goodwill.5 His influence can also be detected at Euromos: the fragmentary reference to the priest of a ‘Cretan-born’ Zeus forms part of a decree describing the election process of civic officials in Euromos. Three elected kosmoi were entrusted with ‘all matters related to the agreement pertaining to the alliance contracted through 3 4

5

Robert and Robert Amyzon no. 14 (Ma 1999: no. 9, plus translation). Robert and Robert Amyzon no. 15, decree in honour of the epistates Menestratos (Ma 1999: no. 10), ll. 1–5: [βασιλε]υόντων Ἀντιόχου Μεγάλου κ[αὶ Ἀντιόχου τοῦ υἱοῦ, ἔτους] | [δω]δεκάτου καὶ ἑκατοστοῦ, μηνὸς Ἀπελλαίο[υ· ἐπὶ ἀρχιερέως Νικά]|[ν]ορος, τοῦ δὲ Διὸς τοῦ Κρηταγενέτα καὶ Δικτύννης [․․․c.7․․․․., ὡς δὲ] | [ὁ δ]ῆμος ἄγει ἐπὶ στεφανηφόρου θεοῦ δευτέρου καὶ ἱερέως τ[ῶν βασι]|[λ]έων Ἰάσονος τοῦ Βαλάρου. Robert and Robert Amyzon no. 19 (Ma 1999: no. 13); the text also makes reference to the besieging ([πο]λιορκούντων) of the region.

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The Evidence

Zeuxis with the Great King Antiochos’.6 The alliance referred to in the text is preserved in another inscription, dated ‘when Antiochos and Antiochos the son were kings, in the hundred and fifteenth year, in the month of Gorpiaios’ (August/September 197 bc ); it recorded an agreement between Zeuxis and the envoys of the Philippeis.7 It is known that Philip V garrisoned Euromos during his campaign of 201 bc , and the reference to the citizens as Philippeis indicates that he also changed the name of the city.8 After Philip’s defeat at Kynoskephalai in 197 bc , Antiochos III forged an alliance with Euromos, perhaps in an attempt to secure Seleukid influence.9 The ‘Cretan’ character of the reforms at Euromos is significant, extending beyond the cult of a ‘Cretan-born’ Zeus to the office of the kosmos, which was distinctively Cretan: the kosmoi served as the primary civic magistrates on the island from an early date.10 The exact procedure by which the kosmoi were elected on Crete is not known; thus, it is not possible to gauge whether the process of election as prescribed at Euromos (to elect the kosmoi from each tribe in turn) imitated the Cretan office in form as well as in name.11 The responsibilities of the kosmoi were stipulated in the inscription, and Ph. Gauthier has noted that they mirrored those of the strategoi in other communities in western Anatolia:12 ἐπιτετάχθαι δὲ τοῖς μὲγ κόσμοις ὅσα πρὸς τὴν τῆς πόλεως καὶ τῆς χώρας φυλακὴν ἀνήκει καὶ τὰς κλεῖδας παραδίδοσθαι τ̣ο̣ύ̣τοις, εἶναι δὲ πρὸς τούτους καὶ τὴν τῶμ φρουρίων ἐπιμέλειαγ κα̣ὶ̣ τὰ κατὰ τὰς στρατείας 6

7

8

9 10

11

12

Errington 1993 no. 5 (Ma 1999: no. 30), ll. 6–8: ὅσα κατὰ |τὴν συνθήκην τὴμ περὶ τῆς̣ σ̣υμμαχίας τῆς συντεθειμένης |πρὸς βασιλέα μέγαν Ἀντίοχον διὰ Ζεύξιδος. Errington 1986 (Ma 1999: no. 29; SEG 36. 973), ll. 1–2: βασιλευόντων Ἀντιόχου καὶ Ἀντιόχου |τοῦ υἱοῦ ειʹ καὶ ρʹ Γορπιαίου. The alliance inscription is inscribed on the same marble architectural block as the decree concerning the constitutional changes. The block comes from the top rear corner of a structure, possibly an earlier temple at Euromos: the anathyrosis indicates that it was connected to another block. The end face, inscribed with the alliance inscription, is adorned with four rosettes along the top; there are further rosettes at the far right of the long side, with the constitutional decree inscribed along its length. See Ma 1999: 338. Marchand 2010 has recently readdressed the list of names in IG 7. 2433 from Thebes, including individuals identified as ‘Philippeis’. Feyel (1942: 286ff.) believed that the inscription listed grants of citizenships, and attributed the erasures to the process of dokimasia. Marchand has proposed that these Philippeis originated from the Carian city of Euromos, and that they were mercenaries; she is more cautious about what honour was being bestowed, although citizenship remains one option. Cf. Plb. 18. 47. 1–2; Liv. 33. 34. 2–3. Meiggs and Lewis 2: an inscription from Dreros on Crete, dated to 650–600 bc , records the regulation of the office of kosmos. Aristotle (Pol. 1272a, 33–34) wrote that the kosmoi were not elected from all citizens, but from certain tribes (ἐκ τινῶν γενῶν). Cf. Spyridakis 1992: 149–151. Ph. Gauthier BE 1995: no. 525. Cf. Fabiani 2010: 474–475.

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A ‘Cretan-Born’ Zeus in Caria to entrust to the kosmoi all matters concerning the security of the city and the territory, and to hand over the keys to them, and to entrust to them the care for the forts and the business concerning military expeditions.13

It is clear that the magistracy of the kosmos was to be pre-eminent at Euromos, subordinate to no other body except the boule. In this regard, the high status of the office at Euromos mirrored that on Crete; even if the precise responsibilities were not exactly the same, Euromos was consciously evoking the civic body of Cretan communities. The full title of the priesthood of the ‘Cretan-born’ Zeus at Euromos remains unknown; only [ἱερέ]α τοῦ Διὸς τοῦ Κρηταγενε[-is preserved.14 The reference to the ‘alliance contracted through Zeuxis’ with Antiochos III led R.M. Errington to draw a parallel with the cult at Amyzon, and restore the title as Zeus Kretagenetas and Diktynna (Διὸς τοῦ Κρηταγενέτα καὶ Δικτύννης).15 This is one plausible reconstruction, though another priesthood of a ‘Cretan-born’ Zeus is attested at the city of Mylasa, where in three inscriptions we find reference to a priesthood of Zeus Kretagenes and the Kouretes.16 The exact date of the Mylasan inscriptions is not known; based on letter forms we can roughly assign a date in the first half of the second century bc ,17 although this does not cast light on the origins of the cult. The epigraphic attestations for the cult of Zeus Kretagenes and the Kouretes do not link it with a specific community in the vicinity of Mylasa. One instance is a decree of the Mylasan tribe, the Otōrkondeis, where a holder of the priesthood is stephanephoros and is included in the introductory dating formula.18 Another instance is a document detailing the sale of Olymian land, where a certain Hermias is listed as priest of Zeus Kretagenes and the Kouretes.19 Olymos was one of the communities that underwent sympoliteia with Mylasa in the second half of the third century bc .20 Interestingly, the third testimony for the cult of Zeus Kretagenes and the Kouretes is in an honorific decree for a certain Moschion, holder of the priesthood, for his assistance in a dispute between Euromos and 13

14 15 16 17

18 19 20

Errington 1993: no. 5 (Ma 1999: no. 30, with translation), ll. 3–6. Cf. I. Iasos 4, ll. 68– 70: γέγονεν καὶ φύλαξ α̣γη[ – οἱ στρατηγοὶ]|οἱ ἐξιόντες ἐκ τῆς ἀρχῆς [παραδιδότωσαν καθ’ ἕκασ]|τον ἐνιαυτὸν τὰς κλεῖδας η̣[–. Errington 1993: no. 5, ll. 18–19. Errington 1993: no. 5, ll. 26–27. I. Mylasa 102, l. 9: ἱερεὺς Διὸς Κρηταγενοῦς καὶ Κουρήτων; 107, l. 1; 806, l. 8. See Chapter 5, n. 20. Cf. the discussion on dating by letter forms in inscriptions from Mylasa: pp. 142–146. I. Mylasa 107, l. 1. I. Mylasa 806, l. 8. See p. 157.

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Dynastic Influence vs. Local Dynamics

Herakleia-under-Latmos.21 In this text, the Euromeis are described as ‘fellow-citizens’ (συμπολιτευομένων) of the Mylaseis, indicating that the two communities had entered into a sympoliteia by this time.22 The proximity of Euromos to Mylasa, and the joining of their civic bodies at some point in the second century bc , may also have resulted in common cults. The inscription at Euromos may therefore be plausibly restored as [ἱερέ]α τοῦ Διὸς τοῦ Κρηταγε[νοῦς καὶ Κουρήτων] in accordance with the Mylasan, rather than the Amyzonian cult.

Dynastic Influence vs. Local Dynamics At present this is the sum of our evidence for the cult of Zeus Kretagenes/ Kretagenetas in Caria. The arguments in favour of associating the cult at Euromos with that at Amyzon are largely dependent on the interpretation of the cult as a Seleukid initiative; as the influence of Antiochos III is attested at both Amyzon and Euromos, the cult of a ‘Cretan-born’ Zeus must also be the same. Scholarly interpretations of the cult to date have consequently emphasised the role of Antiochos III in its introduction. While Louis and Jeanne Robert regarded the cult as local, they focused on the question of why Antiochos III would have chosen an ostensibly Cretan deity as the official cult of Amyzon.23 J. Ma too suggests that the Amyzonian cult can best be understood as an example of ‘the imposition of various forms of Seleukid state power in the aftermath of conquest’.24 He posits that the attestations of a Cretan-born Zeus from Euromos and Mylasa were ‘mirroring a centrally administered, Seleukid, priesthood’ (known from Amyzon); as he writes, the evidence from Euromos and Mylasa provides ‘suggestive (though not yet conclusive) evidence for the effect royal power, or simply the proximity of royal institutions, could have within a formally “free” city’.25

21 22 23

24

25

I. Mylasa 102. I. Mylasa 102, ll. 14–15. See Chapter 4, n. 192. Robert and Robert Amyzon: 166: ‘Mais il reste à savoir pourquoi Antiochos III, dans sa conquête de la Carie occidentale, a choisi de prendre ces divinités pour leur donner un grandprêtre particulier, transformant un culte local en un culte official royale, les divinités venant après le culte du roi lui-même.’ (But it remains to be understood why Antiochos III, in his conquest of western Caria, chose to take these divinities and give them a special high priest, transforming a local cult into an official royal one, the divinities coming after the cult of the king himself.) Ma 1999: 67, n. 55: ‘The priesthood might be related to contemporary Seleukid involvement on Crete.’ Ma 1999: 164.

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The cult received more thorough attention in an article by A.  Mastrocinque, who proposed that the introduction of the cult was a result of Seleukid influence at Amyzon, with its subsequent spread in Caria a declaration of loyalty to Antiochos III by the communities concerned.26 He proceeded to explore why the Seleukid dynasts would have moulded a Zeus in a ‘Cretan’ form.27 In particular, he drew attention to a tradition associating the region of Bottiaia in Macedonia with Crete, which can be dated at least to the fourth century bc and to the work of Aristotle.28 The basic tenets of the tradition claimed that settlers from Crete had formed communities in south Italy, before migrating to the area later identified as Macedonia.29 A perceived affiliation between the Seleukids and the Cretans could therefore have been fostered through the foundation mythology of Bottiaia. In support of this, Mastrocinque cited the cult of Zeus Bottiaios, which was said by Libanius (fourth century ad ) to have been founded by Alexander the Great, and later used to help choose the location of Antioch, as evidence for the perceived affiliation between the Seleukids and the Bottiaians.30 But the relationship of the Macedonians, and specifically the Seleukids, to the Bottiaians is not secure. While the land around Pella was once occupied by the Bottiaians,31 according to Thucydides they were expelled by the Macedonians under Alexander I, and subsequently dwelled

26 27 28

29 30

31

Mastrocinque 2002: 356–358. Mastrocinque 2002: 358–362. Plut. Thes. 16. 2, after Aristotle’s ‘Constitution of the Bottiaia’; he associates the origins of the Bottiaians with the tale of the Athenian youths imprisoned by Minos in the labyrinth: ‘And he says that the Cretans once, in fulfillment of an ancient vow, sent an offering of their first-born to Delphi, and that some descendants of those Athenians were among the victims, and went forth with them … they first crossed over into Italy and dwelt in that country round about Iapygia, and from there journeyed again into Thrace and were called Bottiaians.’ Cf. Strab. 6. 3. 2: the Cretans who sailed with Minos to Sicily were driven off course on their return journey to Crete, and settled at Taras, ‘although later some of them went afoot around the Adrias as far as Macedonia and were called Bottiaians’; the Iapyges were further said to have been named after Iapyx, a son of Daidalos and a Cretan woman; cf. 6. 3. 6. See also Konon FGrH 26 F1 25: ‘The Bottiaioi, then, are the third generation from those who passed out of Crete and are now a portion of the Macedonians.’ Strab. 7. Fr. 11: the Bottiaians were named after their Cretan hegemon Botton. Mastrocinque 2002: 362. Lib. Or. 11. 76: a shrine of Zeus Bottiaios had originally been founded by Alexander; 11. 88: Seleukos I subsequently chose the site for the city of Antioch after following the eagle of Zeus: ‘The eagle, descending there, placed the offerings on the shrine of Zeus Bottiaios, which had been founded by Alexander.’ John Malalas 8. 13 (sixth century ad ): Seleukos I founded Antioch on the site of a village called Bottia, and ‘immediately built a temple which he called that of Zeus Bottios’. Cf. Launey 1987: 953. Strab. 7. Fragment 20: the Macedonian capital Pella belonged to Lower Macedonia, ‘which the Bottiaians used to occupy’.

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Dynastic Influence vs. Local Dynamics

on the borders of the Chalkidike.32 It cannot be presumed that the Seleukids regarded themselves as affiliated with these early inhabitants of Macedonia. Furthermore, the evidence for the cult of Zeus Bottiaios derives from much later sources: Libanius was writing in the fourth century ad , and John Malalas in the sixth century ad . A later tradition alluding to the Bottiaian origins of the Seleukids cannot be transposed back without query, and crucially there is no secure evidence from Macedonia that a cult of Zeus Bottiaios existed there.33 Mastrocinque’s equation between Zeus Bottiaios and a ‘Cretan’ Zeus is not convincing, primarily substantiated by the involvement of Cretans in the settlement of Antioch. But Cretans were not the only population group involved in the foundation of Antioch, and they were settled there with Argives and the ‘descendants of Herakles’;34 when Antiochos III later expanded the city, the settlers again included Cretans alongside Euboians and Aitolians.35 The inclusion of individuals from Crete can best be explained by the mobility of Cretans during the Hellenistic period, encouraged by the social pressures on the island and the frequent employment of Cretans as mercenaries; but there is no indication that they perceived a particular affiliation to the cult of Zeus Bottiaios. Mastrocinque’s argument is also founded on the notion of a ‘Cretan’ Zeus as a primordial deity, youthful in character and distinct from other cults of Zeus in antiquity. However, there is no evidence to suggest that the cults of a ‘Cretan-born’ Zeus found in Caria and Crete were conceptualised as youthful deities; nor indeed that any local cults of Zeus on Crete were so realised.36 The evidence for Zeus Kretagenes on Crete all derives from the Hellenistic period, with the earliest attestations dating to the first half of

32 33 34

35 36

Thuc. 2. 99. See Voutiras 2006; cf. A. Chaniotis, EBGR 2007: no. 144. Lib. Or. 11. 91. Libanius writes of the settlers that they were ‘related to Seleukos through Temenos of old’; Mastrocinque 2002: 358–359 uses this to assert a claim of kinship between the Seleukids and the Cretans. However, Libanius seems to be referring to the Heraklaidai, rather than the Cretans specifically; Temenos was the great-great grandson of Herakles, and father of Karanos, the founder of the Macedonian dynasty; he further notes that some of the settlers were soldiers who had followed Seleukos. In his Oration, Libanius expands on the prehistory of the settlement, and again refers to settlers from Argos, and from Crete under the leadership of Kasos (11. 51–53); other people came from the royal line of Cyprus, while the descendants of Herakles also played a role (11. 54–57). Lib. Or. 11. 119. Alonge 2008 argues against the notion that the reference to Zeus as kouros in the Palaikastro Hymn indicates that the deity worshipped there was youthful in character; rather, he suggests that κοῦρε should be read with Κρόνειε, to refer to Zeus as the ‘son of Kronos’ (235); he also argues that identifying Zeus as a kouros refers to his infancy, rather than his birth (236–239).

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the third century bc .37 It is not possible to postulate a prehistory to the cult before this time. I. Savalli-Lestrade accepted the exposition of Mastrocinque for a relationship between the Carian cult of a ‘Cretan-born Zeus’ and a ‘Seleukid Zeus’ in her discussion of the cult; she concluded that the cult was introduced by Antiochos III in an attempt to reappropriate Caria in a Seleukid image after years of Ptolemaic influence.38 Yet if the cult of Zeus Kretagenes/Kretagenetas was in some way a ‘Seleukid’ Zeus, we would expect it to be more widespread; the only evidence we possess derives from Caria and within a narrow time frame. This may be an accident of preservation, although we do have another decree from Xanthos, dated to 196 bc, in which a comparable royal dating formula is employed: βασιλευόντων Ἀντιόχου καὶ Ἀν̣τιό[χου] τοῦ υἱοῦ, ϛιρʹ, μηνὸς Ὑπερβερεταίου· ἐπ’ ἀ̣ρχιερέως Νικάνορος, ἐν δὲ Ξάνθ[ωι] ἐφ’ ἱερέως τῶν μὲν βασιλέων ρασί[δ]ου τοῦ Νικοστράτου, πρὸ πόλεως δὲ Τληπολέμου τοῦ Ἀρ[ταπ]άτου· When Antiochos and Antiochos the son were kings, in the one hundred and sixteenth year in the month of Hyperberetaios, in the high priesthood of Nikanor, and in Xanthos, in the tenure of Prasidas, son of Nikostratos, as priest of the kings, and of Tlepolemos, son of Artapates, as priest before the city.39

As at Amyzon, the inclusion of the Seleukid high priest Nikanor in the dating formula indicates royal influence at Xanthos. Nikanor had been appointed as ‘high priest’ (ἀρχιερεύς) in all lands beyond the Taurus by Antiochos III in 210/9 bc .40 Yet, while the decrees from Amyzon and Xanthos both followed the same outline, there is no mention of the priesthood of Zeus Kretagenetas and Diktynna in the Xanthian decree; only the priest of the kings is listed. Rather than serving as a ‘Seleukid’ cult, it appears that the cult of a ‘Cretan-born’ Zeus was geographically limited to the region around Amyzon. If the Seleukids did play a role in its development, it was only on a local level.

37 38 39 40

See this chapter, n. 2. Savalli-Lestrade 2010: 146–147. Cf. Wörrle 2011: 390, n. 61. Robert and Robert Amyzon no. 15 B; Ma 1999: no. 23, ll. 1–5 with translation. Ma 1999: no. 4; see ll. 44–50, where it is stated that Nikanor is to be mentioned in all contracts. Ed. pr. Malay 1987. For a discussion of the historical significance of Nikanor’s appointment, see Ma 1999: 26–33.

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The Constitutional Reforms at Euromos

The Constitutional Reforms at Euromos Cretan influence is traced most clearly at Euromos, where the presence of a cult to a ‘Cretan-born’ Zeus was accompanied by constitutional changes of a distinctly Cretan character. As discussed, the decree from Euromos was passed in the aftermath of the alliance between Euromos and Antiochos III, itself dated to August/September 197 bc . The status of Euromos during this period cannot be assured. It is known that Philip V installed a garrison there during his campaign of 201 bc , and changed the city’s name: in the alliance inscription with Antiochos III its citizens are referred to as the Philippeis.41 After Philip’s defeat at Kynoskephalai in 197 bc , the status of Euromos becomes ambiguous. Polybius recorded a Roman envoy to Antiochos III in the aftermath of Rome’s victory, calling on him to evacuate those places previously subject to Philip, ‘for it was a ridiculous thing, he said, that Antiochos should come in when all was over and take the prizes they had gained in their war with Philip’.42 This may imply that Antiochos occupied Euromos; but the inscription recording the agreement between Zeuxis and the envoys of the Philippeis includes a clause by which they will be ‘friends and allies of Antiochos the king and his descendants’.43 Euromos had sent envoys to seek an alliance with Antiochos III, perhaps pre-empting a more offensive Seleukid move.44 The available evidence suggests that the Seleukids did not occupy Euromos, but established a relationship as ‘friends and allies’.45 The constitutional reforms, introducing the office of kosmos to Euromos, were passed soon after the alliance with the Seleukid king. However, it does not follow that the Seleukid authorities dictated the Cretan character of the reforms. A possible parallel for the adoption of a foreign law code can be sought in the attempted synoikism of Teos and Lebedos by Antigonos Monophthalmos at the end of the fourth century bc : the law code of Kos 41 42

43

44 45

Errington 1986 (Ma 1999: no. 29), l. 5. Plb. 18. 50. 6–7: γελοῖον γὰρ εἶναι τὰ Ῥωμαίων ἆθλα τοῦ γεγονότος αὐτοῖς πολέμου πρὸς Φίλιππον Ἀντίοχον ἐπελθόντα παραλαμβάνειν. Errington 1986 (Ma 1999: no. 29), ll. 8–9: φίλοι καὶ σύμμαχοι Ἀντιό|[χ]ου τε τοῦ βασιλέως καὶ τῶν ἐκγόνων. Cf. Ma 1999: 160–161. Ma 1999: 161. Dmitriev (2005: 294, and n. 22) argues that the absence of any mention of φίλια in the kosmoi inscription means that the status of Euromos changed quickly under Antiochos from that of ally to subject community; thus he sees the military alliance and the introduction of two new civic officials as linked: ‘Any evidence we have for administrative changes introduced directly by Hellenistic rulers or for their interference in civic administration concerns only subject communities.’ However, he appears to be forcing a clear distinction between ‘subject’ and ‘autonomous’ that the evidence does not permit with regard to Euromos.

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was adopted until a new code of laws had been drawn up. While this is a clear case of the interference of a king in the civic structure of local communities, it is instructive that the decision to adopt the Koan law code as an interim measure was made jointly by the Teians and Lebedians, and nothing to do with royal directive. As we find stipulated in the letter of Antigonos to Teos: [ἕως δ’ ἂν οἱ σύμπαν][τε]ς νόμοι συντελεσθῶσιν, οἱ μὲν παρ’ ὑμῶν ὤιοντο δεῖν τοῖς παρ’ ὑμῖν [νόμοις χρᾶσθαι, οἱ δὲ παρὰ] [τ]ῶν Λεβεδίων ἠξίουν ἐξ ἑτέρας τινὸς πόλεως μεταπεμψαμένους [χρᾶσθαι· ἐπεὶ δὲ δικαι]ότερον ὑπολαμβάνομεν εἶναι ἐξ ἄλλης πόλεως μεταπέμψασθ[αι νόμους, κελεύσαντες μὲν ἀμ]φοτέρους λέγειν ἐκ ποίας πόλεως βούλονται χρᾶσθαι νόμοις, συνο[μολογησάντων δὲ] [ἀ]μφοτέρων ὥστε τοῖς Κώιων νόμοις χρῆσθαι, ἐπικεκρίκαμεν, τοὺς [δὲ Κώιους παρεκαλέσα][μ]εν πρὸς τοὺς νόμους ὅπως δῶσιν ὑμῖν ἐγγράψασθαι. [Until all the] laws should have been drawn up, your envoys thought it best [to use the laws] of your city, [but those from] Lebedos asked permission to send for and [to use] those from some other city. [Since] we thought it fairer to send for [laws] from another city, [we directed] both parties to name the city whose laws they wished to use, and as both agreed to use the laws of the Koans we decided that this should be done, [and we have requested the Koans] to give you the laws to copy.46

It was stipulated that three men be appointed to travel to Kos to copy the laws, and that they return within thirty days with them sealed. A second letter from Antigonos I to the city further reveals that the Koans had agreed to send assessors to calculate the value of Lebedian property.47 It is not stated why the law code of Kos was chosen; though it is possible that the Koan role as third-party adjudicator meant they were a natural choice for both Teos and Lebedos.48

46

47 48

Welles 1934: no. 3. ll. 55–61; Ager Interstate Arbitration no. 13; Bagnall and Derow no. 7, with translation. Welles 1934: no. 4; Bagnall and Derow no. 7. Ager (1991b: 94–95) has connected this episode with another text recording a boundary dispute between Klazomenai and another city, perhaps Teos, dated to c.302/1 bc : Koan judges are found acting as arbitrators, and Ager suggests their presence in the area was linked to the Teos-Lebedos synoikism.

19

The Constitutional Reforms at Euromos

At Euromos there are two main questions regarding the reforms: why a new constitution was required, and why a Cretan-inspired model was adopted. The case of Teos and Lebedos offers an example of one potential stimulus for the adoption of constitutional changes in a city: at the point of synoikism between different cities, or the foundation of a new state. At Euromos, this may have been occasioned by the refoundation of the city after the defeat of Philip; as already seen, Philip had renamed the city, and thus an occasion for the constitutional changes could have been its refoundation as Euromos. The Seleukids may have played a role in this, though this is not assured: the alliance with Antiochos III and the adoption of constitutional changes are chronologically close, but they were both stimulated by the defeat of Philip. Among the communities that attest to the presence of a cult of a ‘Cretanborn’ Zeus, Amyzon is the only polis that was definitely garrisoned by Antiochos III. Mylasa retained its ‘independence’, and pursued its own policy of expansion in the region; at some point, their territory even extended to include Euromos.49 While Euromos may have requested the sanction of Antiochos III for the instigation of constitutional changes, that does not mean that the Seleukid authorities were active in its initiation; it also does not explain the Cretan character of these reforms. There are hints of a Cretan presence in and around Euromos that may better explain the constitutional reforms. In the second half of the third century bc , Euromos awarded proxenia to the Cretan Euthybios, attesting to contact between the city and the island, albeit on a small scale.50 He was granted isopoliteia (ll. 6–7), the right to own land and a home in Euromos (l. 7), and the right to partake in the sacrifices of the city (l. 8). He was also enrolled in a phyle (ll. 9–10), and these privileges were extended to his descendants. As is frequent in the epigraphic record, the honours are recorded in full, but there are no indications as to why he came to the region initially. It is also not known whether Euthybios availed himself of the honours bestowed, but the possibility was created for him to settle at Euromos as a citizen. Another clue is found in the alliance inscription: the name of one of the envoys of the Philippeis was Chenon. It was an unusual name, with the only parallels found on Crete;51 this may suggest that he was from

49 50 51

See p. 193. See Chapter 4, n. 10. Ph. Gauthier BE 1987: no. 294; BE 1995: no. 520; Ma 1999: 338. IG 12. 9. 839: a Χένων, Κρὴς Δρήριος is attested at Eretria in the second century bc ; IC 1. 16. 31, l. 9: a Χένος is attested at Lato in the second century bc .

199

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A ‘Cretan-Born’ Zeus in Caria

Crete, and had settled in the region, or that he had Cretan lineage. A scenario is envisaged in which Cretans were travelling to and settling in the region around Euromos at the end of the third century bc .52 The agency for the introduction of cults of a distinctly Cretan character would better be considered in a context of Cretan mobility. That is not to say that the cult had nothing to do with Seleukid influence: there is no evidence for the cult of Zeus Kretagenes and Diktynna at Amyzon before or after the reign of Antiochos III, and it can be concluded that the priesthood was of some significance to Seleukid officials to have appeared in the royal dating formula. Indeed, it appears to be a conscious attempt to prioritise a cult with a distinctly ‘Cretan’ character over the primary deities of the city, Artemis and Apollo. But whether the Seleukid rulers were instrumental in dictating the character of the cult is another question. The evidence for the involvement of the Hellenistic kings in the religious fabric of their territories is limited and complex. The clearest indicator of royal involvement is the ruler cult; however, in many cases the original institution of such cults appears to have been at the initiative of the community, rather than as a result of royal directive.53 The involvement of the Seleukids in the introduction of a local, ‘Cretan’ cult of Zeus would attest to a seemingly exceptional level of royal interference in the religious life of their subject communities. If it was part of a strategy to reappropriate the region in a Seleukid image, it does not appear to have been successful or long-lasting. Indeed, when we look at processes of cult transfer or religious innovation in the ancient world, individual mobility and faith were more often central to the movement and perpetuation of religious practices outside of their original context. Interpretation of the Carian cults of a ‘Cretan-born’ Zeus can be advanced more fruitfully by considering the wider context of Carian–Cretan interaction, and focusing on the local dynamics in the region.

Interaction and Religious Mobility Cults and rituals were an intrinsic part of communal identity, and settlers away from their homeland would retain something of their group identity; 52

53

Savalli-Lestrade (2010, esp. 139–142) does much to establish the wider context of contact with Crete when examining the evidence for the cult of a ‘Cretan-born’ Zeus. Ma 1999: 219: ‘Civic ruler cult is a local phenomenon, to be interpreted from the point of view of the local communities.’ It is instructive that the official cult of Laodike, instituted by Antiochos III in 193 bc (Ma 1999: no. 37) post-dated the decision of certain communities to honour her with civic cults: at Sardis in 213 bc , at Teos in c.203 bc and at Iasos in c.196 bc (Ma 1999: 234).

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Interaction and Religious Mobility

introducing native religious practices in a foreign land was one way to assert a sense of culture and maintain a link to their roots. The Carian cult of Zeus Labraundos, for instance, appears to have become entwined with the notion of a regional identity and its practice is attested outside the communities of Labraunda and Mylasa.54 A Hellenistic inscription from Patara attests to the existence of a temenos dedicated to the deity in Lycia. Little is known about the original location of this structure, but the practice of the cult can best be comprehended in the context of a Carian presence in the vicinity.55 Another inscription from Athens, dated to 298/7 bc , reveals the presence of Zeus Labraundos there, indicating the mobility of the cult beyond southwestern Anatolia.56 The only known practitioner of the cult was Menis, son of Mnesitheos, from Herakleia in Caria, and our knowledge of its existence is limited to this one inscription; however, there appears to have been a structure associated with it. It is recorded that Menis supported the completion of the prostoion and the ‘gable’ (to aetōma) of the hieron of Zeus Labraundos.57 A cult of Labraundan Zeus is also attested in Egypt during the Hellenistic period. A letter in the Zenon archive records that 120 arourai had been allotted to Zeus Labraundaios (Διὶ Λαβραυνδαίωι). The possession of land in the name of the deity suggests the existence of an altar or sanctuary to the god, and may again mark the settlement of Carians in the area.58 As noted, a Carian presence in Egypt was established during the Archaic period,59 though the Egyptian cult of Zeus Labraundaios is more likely a consequence of the renewed Carian presence in Egypt during the Hellenistic period. Zenon from Kaunos was only one of many Carians who migrated to Egypt and found employment in the Ptolemaic court.60 The practice of the cult was likely a demonstration of native, or civic, allegiance among Carians in the region. In a similar way, the introduction of the cult of the Thracian deity Bendis in Athens was connected with the presence of Thracians, and their

54

55 56 57

58 59

60

Dedications to Zeus Labraundos have been found at Miletos (Milet 1. 7. 275, 276, 277), Halikarnassos (GIBM 904), Herakleia-under-Latmos (CIG 2896), Stratonikeia (I. Stratonikeia 813; 1109) and Aphrodisias (CIG 2750). Cf. Carless Unwin 2014. Engelmann 2007: 134–135, no. 2a, Tafel 15, Abb. 40; SEG 57. 1674. IG 22 1271. IG 22 1271, ll. 5–7: ὑπέστη καὶ τό τε πρόστωιον καὶ |[τ]ὸ [ἀ]έτωμα τοῦ ἱεροῦ τοῦ Διὸς τοῦ Λαβραύνδου ἐπε|[τέ]λεσεν. P. Mich. Zen. 35, 6 (Edgar 1931: no. 31). It is known that a group of people remained in Egypt who retained an awareness of the earlier Carian connections with Egypt, and traced their history to Caria; see above, pp. 35–36. Clarysse 1980: 105–106; see above, pp. 136–137.

201

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A ‘Cretan-Born’ Zeus in Caria

participation in the religious life of the city.61 In the second half of the fifth century bc , a civic decree awarded the Thracians the right to own land in Athens, and thus participate in polis life, albeit not as citizens.62 In a similar vein, an inscription dated to 333/332 bc decreed that a group of merchants from Kition in Cyprus were permitted to own land, and cites a similar grant previously made to a group of Egyptians.63 In both cases it can be speculated that the people involved were resident in Athens before the privilege was granted, and had organised themselves into associations.64 Their settlement had wider religious repercussions:65 the Kitians were purchasing land to establish a sanctuary (to hieron) to their Aphrodite, ‘as the Egyptians established a sanctuary for Isis’.66 The festival associated with the Thracian cult of Bendis, the Bendideia, was also incorporated into the Athenian religious calendar and celebrated by Thracians and Athenians alike.67 The existence of ‘foreign’ cults in a polis was primarily indicative of a foreign presence in the community, and the principal adherents of such cults seem to have been those for whom the cult was ‘native’. Thus, in the case of Zeus Labraundos at Athens, the only known adherent was a Carian.68 In many cases such cults appear to have had a limited duration, and were not broadly incorporated into civic institutions; however, that does not mean that they had no impact on the citizen population. In the cult of Bendis at Athens, the practitioners included citizen members, even though they seem to have constituted a separate group.69

61

62 63 64 65 66

67 68

69

Simms 1988; Parker 1996: 170–175, 337–338. The earliest reference to Bendis dates to 429/ 8 bc , when the deity appears in the accounts of the Treasurers of the Other Gods (IG 13 383, l. 143). IG 22 1283. IG 23 337 (Rhodes and Osborne 91), ll. 33–45. See Parker 1996: 334–336, on the private religious associations of Athens. See Gabrielsen 2007, esp. 192–193, for comments on non-public associations. IG 23 337, ll. 39–45: δοῦναι τοῖς ἐμπόροις |τῶν Κιτιέων ἔνκτησιν χ[ω]|ρίου, ἐν ὧι ἱδρύσονται τὸ |ἱερὸν τῆς Ἀφροδίτης, καθ|άπερ καὶ οἱ Αἰγύπτιοι τὸ | τῆς Ἴσιδος ἱερὸν ἵδρυντ|αι. IG 13 136. Cf. Parker 1996: 335. Cf. Parker 1996: 338. In this context, Herodotus’ comment (5. 66) on the family of Isagoras in Athens is of interest: he was ‘a man of a notable house, but of what lineage I cannot tell’; he qualified this with the curious statement that ‘his kinsfolk sacrifice to Zeus Karios’ (Διὶ Καρίῳ). Unfortunately, the character and rituals of this cult, and in particular what made it distinctively ‘Carian’, are not known. It is also not clear what Herodotus intended to infer about Isagoras’ origins; the implication is that his ancestors had at some point come into contact with the Carian cult, whether they themselves originated in Caria, had established relations with communities there, or with Carians travelling abroad. IG 13 136. See Plato, Rep. 327a-b: ‘I thought that the procession of local people (ἡ τῶν ἐπιχωρίων πομπὴ) was quite excellent, but the one put on by the Thracian contingent (οἱ Θρᾷκες) seemed no less impressive.’

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Interaction and Religious Mobility

In particular, the mobility of soldiers served as a primary instigator of religious interchange. Mercenaries enlisted away from their native land carried with them their own sense of cultural identity, and came into regular contact with foreign practices and rituals.70 Z. Archibald has stressed the intrinsic difficulties of travelling for the purposes of employment, whether military or not; it was not the ‘norm’, and patterns of behaviour reveal that attempts were made to retain a sense of local identity, or make contact with the familiar.71 There was a tendency for individuals of the same origin to retain a sense of their group identity, based on shared history and experience.72 The potential for assimilation or interchange with the local population was created, with the ramifications most clearly identifiable in the religious realm.73 Dedications by mercenaries have been identified in sanctuaries across Egypt: a Cretan solider can be traced making a dedication to Pan Euodus at the Paneion of El-Kaneis on the Red Sea,74 while a Ptolemaic officer, again from Crete, made an offering to Pan at Koptos.75 Soldiers could also be active in the mobility of cults; for instance, the cult of Isis at Gortyn appears to have been introduced by the Cretan mercenary Pyroos, who had been active on Cyprus in 155/4 bc , and made a dedication to the deity on his return.76 It was the private faith of individuals that induced them to engage with foreign cults, or introduce their own. The installation of foreign garrisons was a frequent by-product of warfare during the Hellenistic period, and presented soldiers with the opportunity to recreate conditions to which they were more accustomed.77 A number of Egyptian cults were dispersed around the Mediterranean under such circumstances: the cult of Tyche Protogeneia Aienaos (Isis) at Itanos on Crete seems to have been introduced by foreign soldiers,78 while on Thera, cults to Sarapis, Dionysos and the ruler cult appear after a Ptolemaic garrison was

70 71

72

73 74 75 76 77

78

Cf. Launey 1987: 979–997. Archibald 2011: 50–51. Dedications were common in sanctuaries of Min, commonly assimilated with Pan: Launey 1987: 983–984; Chaniotis 2005: 151. Archibald (2011: 51) notes that, for mercenaries in particular, the potentially long periods of displacement encouraged them to forge working conditions that would make them feel more at home. See now Chaniotis 2005: chapter 8, esp. 149–155. Bernand 1972: 69–71, no. 13. IC 4. 243. Chaniotis 2005: 152. Chaniotis 2002: 100: the presence of mercenaries of different origins in the garrisons of the Hellenistic period was a significant difference from the Classical period. Philotas from Epidamnos, who was stationed in the Ptolemaic garrison in Itanos made a dedication to Zeus Soter and Tyche Protogeneia (IC 3. 4. 14). Cf. Spyridakis 1970: 99–102; Launey 1987: 995–996; Chaniotis 2005: 152.

203

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A ‘Cretan-Born’ Zeus in Caria

stationed on the island.79 The appearance of dedications to Zeus Atabyrios, in origin a Rhodian cult, at Loryma in the Hellenistic period also appears to be a consequence of its incorporation into the Rhodian peraia, and the stationing of Rhodian officials in the city.80 A rock-cut sanctuary was located on the eastern tip of the harbour fortress, and an inscribed dedication was made by an officer and his fellow soldiers.81 The cult served both as a political declaration of Rhodian dominance, and as a means for Rhodian soldiers to maintain religious observance to their native god. The circumstances surrounding its introduction do not exclude the possibility that it was also practised more widely among the civilian population of the region. A dedication to the deity has been discovered at the inland site of Pisye, part of the Rhodian ‘subject’ peraia; practice of the cult could there indicate the presence of Rhodians, though the assimilation of the cult by the communities under Rhodian dominion is also a possibility.82 Certainly, the spread of the Egyptian cults of Isis and Sarapis across the ancient world, particularly during the Hellenistic period, indicate the broader reception of these ostensibly ‘foreign’ deities in the poleis concerned.83 An association tōn Diktynnaistōn, evidently named after the Cretan deity Diktynna, is epigraphically attested at Mylasa, which again appears to reflect Cretan influence in the city.84 The inscription is fragmentary, and the nature of the organisation is not known. It has long been noted that the names of private associations, often in the form of koina, frequently ended in -astai or -istai,85 and one option is that we are dealing with a religious association 79

80 81

82

83

84 85

Chaniotis 2005: 152; cf. 153, for the worship of Zeus Soter and Athena Nikephorus, deities associated with Pergamon, at Attalid garrisons in Aigina and Thrace. See Launey 1987: 956. Held 2010: 364–367. I. Rhod. Per. 2; Bresson I. Pérée 185; Held 2003: 2A: [βωμὸ]ν̣ Δ[ι]ὸς Ἀταβυρί[ο]υ ἱδρύσατο |[…]ΙΙ[…] Σ[…]ά̣της̣ Φιλοδάμου [.c.5.]ος |[.]εισ[.]Λ̣.Ι…Σ… καὶ τοὶ συνστρα̣τ̣ευσάμεν[οι.]. The name is not fully preserved:]Σ[….]ΑΤΗΣ ΦΙΛΟΔΑΜΟΥ. Blümel restores Sokrates; Held restores Timasikrates. Cf. I. Rhod. Per. 1, 5; Bresson I. Pérée 186, 178; Held 2003: 2B, 1. Zeus Atabyrios at Pisye: HTC: 129–130, no. 26; the cult is also attested at the Lycian settlement of Soura (Bean 1962: 7–8, no. 5; Bresson 1999: 105). I. Priene1 195 (I. Priene2 196) preserves a Hellenistic decree concerning the priesthood of ‘Sarapis, Isis and the gods with them’ (ll. 11–12: [τῶι]|Σαράπιδι καὶ τῆι Ἴσιδι καὶ τος θεοῖς το[ῖς σὺν αὐτοῖς]); the later reference to Apis indicates that he was included among the other gods mentioned (l. 16). The Egyptian cults were incorporated into the religious life of Priene, although it is notable that they preserved their Egyptian character, and it is specified that the priest would provide an Egyptian to help perform the sacrifice. The text continues (ll. 22–23) that it is forbidden for anyone else inexperienced to perform the sacrifice for the goddess, except for the priest (μὴ ἐξέστω δὲ μηθενὶ ἄλλωι ἀπείρως τὴ[ν θυσίαν ποεῖν τῆι]|θεᾶ̣ι ἢ̣ ὑπὸ τοῦ ἱερέως). Cf. Graf 2010a: 67: ‘The city guaranteed this exoticism … there was no dichotomy of values between “Hellenic” and foreign cultic identity.’ I. Mylasa 179. Robert 1967: 12; Carbon 2005: 1. Cf. Gabrielsen 2007.

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Interpreting the Cults of Zeus Kretagenes/Kretagenetas

dedicated to Diktynna.86 This is not assured, as other private associations in the ancient world were named after deities without necessarily being of religious character.87 A possible parallel can be sought in the phratry tōn Darrōnistōn that is also attested in Mylasa, dated to the late fourth century bc .88 J.-M. Carbon has suggested that this phratry was related to the presence of Macedonians in the area:89 it appears to have been named after the cult of the little known Macedonian deity Darrōn.90 The association dedicated to Diktynna at Mylasa could likewise reflect the presence of Cretans in the city, potentially connected to the cult of the ‘Cretan-born’ Zeus. What is marked in the travels of both soldiers and diplomats is the agency of the individual in cultural interaction; while they may have travelled in an official capacity, it was how they personally conducted themselves in, and related to, a foreign environment that created the potential for interchange. Cultural and religious exchange was to a large extent dependent on private initiative, both in the adoption of new practices, but also in their transmission and reception in a new context.91 It is within such a context of mobility between Caria and Crete that the local significance of a cult of a ‘Cretanborn’ Zeus best resonates.

Interpreting the Carian Cults of Zeus Kretagenes/Kretagenetas The accuracy in the dating of the documents related to the cults of a ‘Cretan-born’ Zeus in Caria should not be overlooked. It offers the opportunity to contextualise the evidence in a specific historical framework at the end of the third/beginning of the second century bc . Two of 86

87 88 89

90

91

The date of the text is not known, although the name of Tib. Tullus is inscribed on the same stone, indicating a Roman presence; I. Mylasa 418. Carbon (2005: 3, n. 16) suggests an Imperial date. See the comments of Gabrielsen 2007: 186–187. Blümel 2004: no. 20. Carbon 2005. A group of tomb inscriptions from Mylasa, published by W. Blümel in 2004, recorded the burial of individuals of foreign origin in the region: Aristeas and Dionysios from Achaia, Perdikkas from Epeiros and an unknown individual from Ainos in western Thessaly ; Blümel 2004: nos. 34–37. Based both on their script and the types of monument, they are thought to date to the late fourth/early third century bc . The circumstances in which these individuals found themselves in Caria are not known, although Carbon (2005: 4) speculates that they were enlisted as mercenaries; perhaps as part of Alexander’s campaign; or in the army of Asandros, who ruled over Caria in the wake of Alexander’s death (323–313/12 bc ). Carbon 2005: 1. Cf. Heschyius s.v. Δαρρων. The description of the organisation as a phratry is unusual in Caria; see comments of Carbon 2005: 3. See also Wörrle 2003: 126–128. Chaniotis 2005: 150–154.

205

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A ‘Cretan-Born’ Zeus in Caria

the communities in which the cult is attested were garrisoned at some point: Amyzon by the Seleukids, and Euromos by Philip V. Troops were stationed in the cities, and Cretan mercenaries were likely included among their numbers. Philip V’s close contacts with Crete had been established by the end of the third century bc , and were in part an attempt to secure ready access to mercenaries from the island. Antiochos III is also known to have employed Cretan mercenaries in his forces.92 A group of Cretan soldiers stationed in a foreign community would retain their Cretan origins, and one aspect of this could be the continued practice of their native cults and rituals. The settlement of Cretans in the vicinity of Euromos may serve to explain the constitutional changes in the city.93 The indications of a Cretan presence were noted above, and it is possible that the refoundation of the city in 197 bc included the introduction of a Cretan element.94 Again we can look to the Cretan mercenaries settled near Myus in the late third century bc as a parallel. T. Boulay has suggested that the potential appearance of Cretans in Euromos was a corollary to this group enfranchisement. He proposes that a small body of these Cretans voluntarily decided to be a part of the refoundation of Euromos by Philip V.95 The influence of the Antigonids in Euromos is well attested: an honorary inscription, dated to the second half of the third century bc , was voted by the Euromeis for the Macedonian Alexandros, son of Admetos, philos of Philip V.96 It recorded his attempts to bring Euromos back under Antigonid control, and it may have been at this point that the city was refounded and named after Philip; Boulay suggests that this could also have involved the incorporation of a group of Cretans into the citizen body.97 The proposition of Boulay that it was most likely Antigonid involvement at Euromos that led to the settlement of Cretans in the city is attractive. As noted previously, Philip V was appointed prostatēs of the Cretan koinon in 217 bc , and his Carian campaign of 201 bc likely employed Cretan mercenaries. The introduction of Cretan settlers at Euromos could thus have 92 93 94

95 96 97

See p. 133. See Boulay 2014: 324–327; cf. Savalli-Lestrade 2010: 139–142. The redating of the Mylasan dossier to the late third/early second century bc would provide another body of evidence for Cretan interaction with Caria in the same historical context as the cult of a Zeus Kretagenes/Kretagenetas. Boulay 2014: 326–327. Errington 1993: no. 4; SEG 43. 706. Boulay 2014: 407–408. In this context it is worth noting that Stephanus of Byzantium records that Chalketor, a city neighbouring Euromos, was a πόλις Κρήτης (s.v. Χαλκητόριον); however, it is widely thought that he was mistaken, and intended πόλις Καρίας.

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Interpreting the Cults of Zeus Kretagenes/Kretagenetas

been instigated by Philip V;98 whether they were Cretans who had joined his Carian campaign, or whether they were connected with the Cretans settled at Myus is open to speculation, though it is worth noting that over thirty years had passed since the initial enfranchisement of Cretans by Miletos in 234/3 bc . Rather than initiating the reforms at Euromos, the Seleukids would have inherited the situation left by Philip V. It can be suggested that the introduction of a Cretan cult and the adoption of a Cretan-inspired constitution at Euromos were a consequence of the incorporation of a group of Cretans into the community, and should not be attributed to royal initiative. A similar scenario can be envisaged at Amyzon: the installation of a Seleukid garrison may have involved the introduction of Cretan troops in the city, which in turn may have led to the introduction of a cult and priesthood of Zeus Kretagenetas and Diktynna. If the origins of the cults lay with the private initiative of Cretan mercenaries, rather than as a dynastic introduction, it would help to explain the variations in the cults between Amyzon and Mylasa. It may also account for the lack of a direct parallel for either cult on Crete itself; the notion of a ‘Cretanborn’ Zeus would have gained greater relevance in a foreign context, as a means of defining a cohesive Cretan identity among mercenaries deriving from different cities on the island.99 *

*

*

The paucity of our evidence for the existence of the cult of a ‘Cretanborn’ Zeus, let alone the circumstances of its introduction, means that such an interpretation must remain speculative. Certain problems remain; for instance, the process by which the priesthood of a ‘Cretan-born’ Zeus rose to especial prominence in Amyzon, and came to be employed in the official royal dating formula, remains obscure. But rather than assigning an active role to the Seleukid authorities under Antiochos III, their apparent endorsement should be envisaged as a response to other cultural dynamics influencing the region during this period.100 The agency for the introduction of this ostensibly Cretan cult, and the adoption of a Cretan-inspired constitution at Euromos,101 should be assigned to the presence of individuals 98

99

100 101

Boulay (2014: 327) draws parallels with Philip V’s conduct elsewhere, including the forced enfranchisement of metics at Larisa in Thessaly. The Cretans who were enfranchised by Miletos in 234/3 bc were from Dreros and Milatos; those enfranchised in 229/8 bc were from a number of places on the island. See Chapter 4, n. 47. See Ma 1999: 233–234. The law code of Crete was regarded with esteem in the ancient world, which could have been another factor behind the acceptance of Cretan civic reforms at Euromos: Herodotus (1. 65. 4)

207

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A ‘Cretan-Born’ Zeus in Caria

from Crete and their attempts to retain something of their island identity. This does not detract from the civic significance of the cults within the poleis of Caria:  the priesthood was accepted as a distinguished civic office in Euromos, while the holder of the priesthood was used to date the documents of both Amyzon and Mylasa. The native populations of both cities seem to have accepted this ‘Cretan-born’ Zeus into their civic pantheons, however temporarily, and it can be presumed that the historic links between Caria and Crete encouraged their reception. During the Hellenistic period, interaction between Caria and Crete took place in a number of realms. The mechanisms involved were intertwined with the wider mechanisms of movement in the Mediterranean, and the potential diversity of religious life within the polis was one consequence of mobility. It is in this context that the cult of a ‘Cretan-born’ Zeus should be interpreted. Interaction may have resulted in a heightened awareness of local histories and mythological links, in turn fostering an environment in which a distinctly Cretan cult came to be accepted in Caria, but the origins of the cult were rooted in the present and in the shared communication networks of Caria and Crete.

recorded that the Lacedaemonians themselves say that Lykurgos took the famous Spartan law code from Crete, and Minos is often regarded as a great lawgiver (Strab. 10. 4. 8). Plato (Rep. 8. 544c; Crito 52e), Aristotle (Nic. Eth. 1102a 13. 2–3) and Ephorus (FGrH 70 F33; Strab. 10. 4. 9) also described the Cretan law code favourably. The relevance of such traditions in the more immediate context of the reforms can be identified in the reference to Thaletas in the Mylasan dossier (see p. 166). The traditions surrounding Thaletas/Thales record his reputation as a musician, yet also as a lawgiver; see Plut. Life of Lycurgus 4. 1–2.

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Concluding Remarks

In this book, I have sought to reframe how we approach the study of the non-Hellenic Carians, in particular how we formulate their relationship with their Greek neighbours. Rather than establishing clearly demarcated boundaries along ethnic lines, I have emphasised interaction and exchange as a persistent feature of regional history. The communities of Caria were interconnected with those of the Aegean for as long as we can trace their existence, and the central theme of this book has been to explore how this was reflected in conceptions of regional history. The historical traditions associated with the region emphasised the early maritime mobility of the Carians and their interaction with Greeks, especially with the island of Crete. This was related to, and affected by, real contact in the ancient world: the structure and development of the mythological traditions linking Caria and Crete was based on their geographical association and participation in shared networks. The corpus of mythological traditions linking Caria and Crete, both regional and local, is diverse and inconsistent. The task is not to make sense of this body of material, or try to establish the ‘true’ or ‘original’ narrative; multiple versions of civic or regional history could be transmitted at the same time, and informed different aspects of Carian self-perception. I have focused here on understanding what the Carian–Cretan affiliation meant in a regional context; considering the social function that these myths played in the construction of local identities. The reception of the tradition in itself was not constant: in the fifth century bc , Herodotus wrote that the Carians themselves denied the link, and claimed to have been indigenous ‘from the first’.1 But the claim of autochthony was only one strategy among many, intended to reinforce Carian attachment to the land; in other contexts, the connectedness of the Carians was stressed, and a connection with Crete endorsed. Rather than viewing the ‘Cretan link’ as the imposition of a Greek mythological framework onto the non-Greek Carians, or as a Carian attempt to claim or invent a Hellenic origin, I have proposed that these mythologies 1

Hdt. 1. 171. 5.

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are reflective of the long-standing interrelationships between Caria and the Aegean. In any case, an affiliation with Crete would not have provided a secure Greek lineage; although the island played a central role in Greek mythologies, the Greek origins of the island were contentious, and there was debate over whether Minos himself was Greek.2 Appeals to the Crete of Minos, Sarpedon and Rhadamanthys were rather employed to establish the depth of a community’s history; such a link was as appealing to the Carians as it was to the Greeks, and could be used to trace the lineage of a community to the age of gods and heroes. The Carians participated in this mythological framework, but not as passive recipients of a process of ‘Hellenisation’: Carian negotiations with their Greek-speaking neighbours played an intrinsic part in shaping regional identities, both historical and cultural. Defining Caria in itself is far from straightforward, and the complexities involved in identifying its geographical and cultural limits have been returned to repeatedly over the course of this book. Identities in the ancient world were not static, and the ways in which the communities sought to define themselves shifted in different contexts and in different periods, and in response to different stimuli. The development of what being ‘Carian’ meant was an open-ended process, undergoing periods of crystallisation and diffusion, and a difference between the coastal and inland areas is marked in our sources. During the Hellenistic period, the decline of the Carian language, and other tangible indicators of Carian culture, including onomastics, can be traced; however, it has been argued that the continued significance attached to traditions and mythologies involving Carians, or figures with strong Carian connections (including Chrysaor and Pegasos), meant that a Carian aspect of regional history remained significant in the construction of local identities. This can be traced both among those communities conventionally located in Caria (for example, Mylasa, Alabanda, Aphrodisias), and those Greek cities along the coast that were peripherally ‘Carian’ (for example, Halikarnassos, Miletos). The underlying theme of interaction with the Aegean and Crete recurs in a number of mythological narratives related to early Carian history. The various strands were discussed in detail in Chapter 2, and placed in a broader conversation about the value of mythologies and historical traditions in the construction of different levels of group identity. The social function of mythologies was stressed, and it was argued that the persistence of the Cretan connection in Caria indicates that it remained fundamental to 2

Strab. 10. 4. 9; see p. 5.

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Concluding Remarks

regional self-identity. At the same time, I maintained that such an approach should not detract from consideration of the origins of the myths themselves. Given the adaptable nature of myth, attempts to reconcile the different strands, or to construct a neat correspondence between later mythologies and the evidence for real contact, are misplaced. But the central theme of a close affiliation between the realm of Minos and the Carians bears a striking correspondence with the archaeological evidence for interaction during the Bronze Age. The notion that the Cretan link could find its roots in Late Bronze Age mobility between the island and southwestern Anatolia formed the basis of Chapter 3. During the second millennium bc , the cultures of the Minoan and Mycenaean realms came into contact with those of coastal Anatolia, with the mobility of cultural forms and individuals between the two; the character of Bronze Age Caria was shaped by this interaction. The correlation between archaeology and mythology in the case of Miletos was traced in detail, and it was proposed that a ‘memory’ of such contact had been preserved in the city’s historical narratives: the mythological and historical traditions transmitted refracted versions of this early contact. This speculation about the origins of the link is not incompatible with consideration of the subsequent reception of these traditions. During the Hellenistic period, it is possible to identify a cluster of traditions that develop the notion of a ‘Cretan connection’. Chapter  4 concentrated on contextualising the surviving traditions within their socio-political background, considering diplomatic contacts between the cities of Caria and Crete, and exploring how a historical link between the two was mobilised in this context. The incorporation of the Carian communities into the wider Hellenistic koine was central to this. In a civic culture that placed an emphasis on the past, participation was based on shared history and the establishment of historical affiliations; in this context, the Carian–Cretan link became more prevalent, and came to be considered a valuable element in the formulation of the local histories of Caria. At Mylasa, we do not know of a specific mythological link between the city and Crete; yet the wider regional narratives seem to have been adapted on a local level in order to substantiate the claims of kinship made in their diplomatic relations with the island. The reception of the mythological affiliation with Crete was not uniform across Caria. The notion of a ‘Cretan link’ emerges most prominently in the areas that were located on or near the coast, or in communities that were active in the wider networks of the Aegean. The Kaunians, for instance, are said to have sought their origins on Crete, while other myths related

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the migration of the Kouretes to the Carian Chersonesos: their proximity to the sea was central to the myth. Cretan traditions were also important among the Greek cities located on the border of Caria, notably Miletos and Magnesia-on-the-Maeander. They were based on the notion of early contact between coastal Anatolia and Crete, and reflect the appropriation of what was at core a Carian narrative. The Cretan ‘origin myth’ of Magnesia-on-the-Maeander does not involve figures associated with Minos; however, this strand of their history appears to have been developed and propagated in response to the wider regional pattern of myths associated with the island. Chapter  5 focused on reconstructing the context in which a version of this tradition was publicly inscribed during the Hellenistic period, considering its civic significance, and what factors may have encouraged the ‘memory’ of the city’s connection with the island at this time. The inscription was placed in a wider context of mobility, and connected with the settlement of Cretans in the vicinity of the city. Chapter  6 developed the theme of individual agency in cultural exchange by focusing on the cults of a ‘Cretan-born’ Zeus that are attested in Caria in a similar historical context. The introduction of this deity in the region around Mylasa and Amyzon should again be linked to the presence of Cretans in Caria; the mythological affiliation may have affected its reception among the Carian communities concerned, but I proposed that the appearance of the cult was as a result of Cretan mobility. The sense of a Carian–Cretan affiliation was formulated and shaped in response to contact and confrontation with other people(s), generating multiple opportunities for cultural interchange. The endurance of the ‘Cretan link’ reflected its ongoing relevance to Carian history and identity. This was determined by continuing interaction between Caria and the Aegean: while the Carians were an Anatolian people, their cultural and social development was interconnected with that of the neighbouring Greek-speaking communities, and ultimately they shared a common mythological framework. The peoples of Caria and Crete participated in overlapping networks of interaction in the southeast Aegean; it was continual acquaintance between individuals from both regions that stimulated the formation of mythological links and ensured that they remained an essential part of how the Carians engaged with their past.

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Appendix 1: I. Magnesia 17

Ed. pr. O. Kern 1894. Kern, I. Magnesia 17; Merkelbach and Stauber 1998: 02/01/01. Cf. Wilamowitz-Moellendorff 1895; Dušanič 1983; Ebert 1985. Marble block: height 0. 915m; width: 0.68–69m; letter height 0.7–0.9cm. Stone and squeeze: Berlin. Photo: Kern 1894; I. Magnesia 17, Tafel IV. Found in the southwest corner of the agora; it was inscribed on the socalled ‘Pfeilerwand’ that terminated the stoa at the southern end. The sections quoting the oracle were aligned to a different margin from the rest of the text, which was indented slightly. Date: 208/7 bc . 1

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[․․․․․c.15․․․․․․] χεῖρας [ἐ]ξήγαγο[ν ․․․․․c.14․․․․․] [․․․c.11․․․․ ση]μ̣εῖον τῆς γενομένη̣[ς ․․․․․c.14․․․․․] [․․․c.11․․․․ πα]ρὰ πάντων κατὰ κοινὸ[ν ․․․․c.13․․․․․] [․․․c.10․․․ ψ]ηφισμάτων· μέχρι μὲν [οὖν χρόνου τινὸς] σ̣υν[τ]ελεσθ[έ]ντων ταχέως ὧν ἕνεκεν ἦλ[θον, περιέμενον] τ̣ὸ ῥηθὲν ὑπ τοῦ θεοῦ σημεῖον πρὸς τὴν ἀ[ποχώρησιν· ἐπεὶ] δὲ ἐλάμ̣βανε χρόνον, πόλιν ἀνὰ μέσον π[εδίων τῶν Γόρτυ-] νος καὶ Φαιστοῦ κ̣α̣τώικσαν εὐδαίμον[α ἐν Κρήτηι· κτησά-] μενοι τέκν̣α καὶ γυναῖκα[ς, ἐ]νεφυσίωσάν τε κα̣[ὶ τοῖς ἐπιγινομέ-] νοις ἐξ ἑαυτῶν τὴμ βούλησιν τοῦ θεοῦ τὴν κατὰ [τὴν ἀποχώρησιν·] ὡς δὲ περὶ ὀγδοιήκονθ’ ἕτη μετὰ τὴν ἄφιξιν ἐφάν̣[ησαν οἱ λευκοὶ] κόρακες, εὐθέως ἅμα θυσίαις χαριστηρίοις πέμ[πονται εἰς Δελ-] φοὺς ἐρωτήσοντες περὶ τῆς εἰς τὴν ἰδί̣[αν] ἐπανόδο[υ, ἱερωμένης] ἐν Ἄργει Θεμιστοῦς, προάρχοντας ἐν [Δελ]φοῖς τὴν ἐν̣[ναετηρίδα] Ξενύλλου. πάλιν δὲ παρὰ τὴμ βούλησιν αὐτῶν χρ̣ηστηριάζε[ται·] ἤλθετε Μάγνητες Κρήτης ἀπόνοσφι τραπέν[τες] οἰωνὸμ πτερύγεσσι σὺν ἀργεννῆσιν ἰδόντες [ἐ]γ μέλανος, καὶ θαῦμα καταθνητοῖσιν ἐφάνθη, [κ]αὶ δίζησθε, πάτρην εἰ λώιόν ἐστιν ἱκέσθαι. ἀλλὰ χρεὼγ γαίης ἀπ[ὸ π]ατρίδος ἄλλοθι ν̣εῖσθα[ι·] πατρὶ δ’ ἐμῶι καὶ ἐμοὶ [καὶ] συγγόνωι ὧδε μ[ελ]ήσει

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μή τι χερειοτέραμ βῶ̣λ̣[ο]μ Μ[ά]γνητα δάσασθαι χ̣ώρας ἧς Πηνειὸς ἔχει κα[ὶ] Πήλιον αἰ̣πύ. ἀπογνόντες οὖν διὰ τὸγ χρησμὸν [τ]ὴν εἰς οἶκον ἐπάνοδον καὶ σπεύδοτες ἑαυτοῖς ἐπιτελεσθῆναι τὴν ἐπαγγελίαν τοῦ θεοῦ πάλιν ἐπηρ̣ώτσαμ πέμψαντες ὅπ[ο]υ στέλλοιεν καὶ πῶς· ὁ δὲ θεὸς ἔχρησεν· εἴρεσθ’ ὦ Μάγνητες ἀμύμονες, ἔνθα νέησθε· ὔμμι δὲ ἀνὴρ ἕστηκε πάρος νηοῖο θυράων, [ὃ]ς γ’ ὑμῖν ἄρξαιτο καὶ ἡγήσαιτο κελεύθου Π̣αμφ̣ύλων ἐπ’ ἄρουραν ὑπὲρ Μυκάλης ὄρος αἰπύ̣· ἔνθα δὲ Μανδρολύτου δόμος ὄλβιος ἐμ περιωπῆ[ι] πολλοῖσιν κτεάνοισι πολυστρεφέος ποταμοῖο· ἔνθα δὲ ἀμυνομένοισι καὶ οὐκ ἄρχουσι δόλοιο νίκηγ καὶ μέγα κῦδος Ὀλύμπιος ἐγγυαλίξει. ἐπερωτησάντων δὲ τίς ὁ ἀνὴρ οὗτός ἐστιν ὁ καθηγησόμενος ἡμῖν καὶ πόθεν, ὁ θεὸς ἔχρησεν· ἔστι τις ἐν τεμένει Γλαύκου γένος ἄλ̣κιμος ἀνήρ, ὅς γ’ ὑμῖν πρώτιστ’ ἐπιέξεται ἀν̣τιβολήσας νηὸν ἐμὸμ προλιποῦσι· τὸ γὰ[ρ] πεπρωμένον ἐστίν. οὗτος καὶ δείξει χέρσου πολύπυρον ἄρουραν. συναντησάντων δὲ κατὰ τὸ ῥηθὲν καὶ τὴν̣ συγγένεια[ν] πρὸς τὸν Λεύκιππον ἀνανεωσαμένων, ἐπιδειξάντων τ[ε] τοὺς χρησμοὺς ἀσμένως ὑπήκουσεν ὁ εύκιππος, ὅμως μα̣[ν-] καὶ αὐτὸς ἐπ[η]ρ[ώτ]η[σ]ε κατ’ ἰδίαν τὸν θεόν, τῶι δ’ ἔχρησεν· στέλλ’ ἐπὶ Παμφύ[λ]ωγ κό[λ]πον, Λεύκιππε, φέροπλον λαὸν ἄγωμ Μάγνητα ὁμοσύγγονον, ὡς ἂν ἵκειαι Θ[ώρη]κος σκόπελον κ[α]τ̣ὰ Mανθίου αἰπὺ ῥέεθρον καὶ [Μ]υκάλης ὄρος αἰπὺ ἀπεναντίον Ἐνδυμίων[ος.] ἔνθα δὲ Μ[α]νδρολύτου δόμον ὄλβιοι οἰκήσο[υσιν] [Μ]άγνητε̣ς πολί̣ε̣[σσι] π̣ερικτιόνεσσιν ἀγητ[οί.]

L. 4: Kern (1894). I. Magnesia 17, Merkelbach and Stauber: μέχρι μὲν [τούτων κατὰ νοῦν] || L. 6: From the stone: ΥΠΥ (Ebert). Kern (1894): ὑπ[ό]; I. Magnesia 17: ὑπό̣ || Ll. 7–8: Restoration of Ebert (1985). Kern (1894): μέσον π[ολίσαντες Γόρτυ]|νος καὶ Φαιστοῦ; I. Magnesia 17: μέσον π[όλεων Γόρτυ]|νος καὶ Φαιστοῦ || L. 8: From the stone: ΚΑΤΩΙΚΟΥΣΑΝ (Ebert). Kern (1894): [κα]τοικοῦσαν; I. Magnesia 17: κ̣α̣τώικουσαν || Ll. 8–9: Ebert. Kern (1894): εὐδαιμόν[ως ἔζων κτησά]|μενοι; I. Magnesia 17: εὐδαιμόν[ως μεταπεμψά]|μενοι || L. 9: Ebert: γυναῖκα[ς], ἐ̣νεφυσίωσάν || Ll. 9–10: Ebert. Kern (1894): κα̣[ὶ τοῖς γενομέ]|νοις; I. Magnesia 17: κα̣[ὶ τοῖς γινομέ]|νοις. || L. 10: Ebert. Kern (1894), I. Magnesia 17: [τὸν χρησμόν·] || L. 11: Ebert. Kern (1894), I. Magnesia 17: ἐφά[νησαν || L. 12: Merkelbach and Stauber. Kern (1894): [ἐ]πέμ[φθησαν]; Ebert: πέμπ̣[ουσιν] || L. 26: From the stone: ΕΠΗΡΩΤΩΣΑΜ

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(Ebert). || L. 39: From the stone: ΠΡΩΤΙΣΤΕ || L. 43: τ[ε]: reading of Ebert || L. 44: Merkelbach and Stauber. From the stone: ΟΔΕΥΚΙΠΠΟΣ (Ebert). Kern (1894): [ἄ] σμενως ὑπήκουσεν ὁ Λεύκιππος; I. Magnesia 17: ἄσμενος ὑπήκουσεν ὁ εύκιππος. Εbert: ὁ δὲ ύκιππος || Ll. 44–5: Ebert. Kern (1894): μ[έν]|τοι [γ]ε; I. Magnesia 17: μ[έν]|τοινε; Merkelbach and Stauber: μ[..]|ΤΟΙΝΕ || L. 45: Ebert: ἐπη̣ρώ̣τ̣ησ̣ε || L. 48: Merkelbach and Stauber. Ebert: κα̣τ̣ὰ Mανθίου. Kern (1894): κ[αὶ] Ἁμανθίου; I. Magnesia 17: κ[α]ὶ Ἀμανθίου. Cf. IG 14.933, l.7: Μανθίωι. || L. 51: Ebert. Kern (1894): [Μ]άγνητ[ε]ς; I. Magnesia 17: [Μ]άγνητς.

Translation: … when, after some time, they had rapidly completed the things for which they had come, they awaited the signal of the god to return. When he (the god) took his time, they founded a prosperous city on Crete, in the middle of the plain of Gortyn and Phaistos. They settled their children and wives and handed down to their descendants the instructions of the god about their migration. Around eighty years after their arrival, white crows appeared, and immediately, with sacrifices of thanks to the god, they sent a delegation to Delphi to ask about whether they could return to their own land. This happened when Themisto was priestess in Argos, while Xenyllos was in his ninth year as proarchon in Delphi. But the god gave them an oracle contrary to their wishes: ‘You Magnesians have come here, turned away from distant Crete, having seen a bird with white wings in place of black. It appeared to you mortals as a portent, and you desire to know whether it is advantageous for you to return to your fatherland. But you must go to a land away from your fatherland. My father and myself and my sister will take care that the Magnesians will not have poorer soil to divide among themselves than the land which Peneios and high Pelion hold.’ Having received the advice of the oracle about their return home, they hastened to accomplish the message of the god, and they sent back to ask where they should be dispatched and in what way. The god replied: ‘Noble Magnesians, you have asked where you should go. The man who stands before the doors of the temple will lead you and show you the way to the land of Pamphylia, beyond high Mount Mykale. There you will find the wealthy house of Mandrolytos with his many possessions on the banks of the much winding river. There the Olympian will bestow victory and great glory upon those who defend themselves and do not rule by trickery.’

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Then they inquired who this man was who would lead them away, and from where he came, the god replied: ‘There is in the sanctuary a brave man, descended from the line of Glaukos, who will be the first to meet you when you leave my temple; for it has been ordained. He will show you land rich in corn on the mainland.’ Having met Leukippos, as prophesied, and having renewed their kinship with him, and having shown him the oracles, he gladly heeded it; nevertheless, he asked a question of the god himself, and the oracle proclaimed: ‘Set off to the Pamphylian gulf, Leukippos, and lead the arms-bearing people of Magnesia, your kinsmen, to Mount Thorax by the precipitous Manthios River and high Mount Mykale, opposite Endymion. There the Magnesians will inhabit the house of Mandrolytos and be prosperous and admired by the neighbouring cities.’

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Appendix 2: The ‘Cretan Dossier’ of Mylasa

All restorations after W. Blümel, unless otherwise indicated.

I. Mylasa 641 Εd. pr. Le Bas-Waddington no. 380. F. Blass in Collitz and Bechtel, Sammlung der griechischen Dialekt-Inschriften III. 2 (1905), no. 5157; Rigsby Asylia no. 187. No measurement details. 1

5

] ἀλλήλ[οις ]ΘΕΝ παρὰ [ τοῖς κόσμ]οις καὶ τᾶ[ι π]ό[λει·] ἐπειδὴ Μυλασεῖ[ς ]ΣΙ ὑπάρχοντες ΦΡΟΝΩΝ ἁμίων τε [ ]ΟΝ Κρηταιέων συνγενεῖς ἀπό τε [

L. 3: Blass: κόσμ]οις || L. 3: Blass. Waddington: τὰ [λ]ὁιπά] || L. 4: ΦΡΟΝΩΝ (copy of Le Bas); Waddington: φρον[ί]ων[τι].

I. Mylasa 642 Ed. pr. Le Bas-Waddington no. 381. J. Baunack, Studien auf dem Gebiete des Griechischen (1886) 7/8, no. I; Blass SGDI no. 5158; Guarducci IC 4. 177; Rigsby Asylia no. 188. Found in a private house. Letter height: 2cm. 1

]ΣΕ[ ]ΤΟΥ ΕΝ[ ]Α[ ]AN οἷοι ἐς Κρήταν [ ]Δ[ ?πρότερο]ν καὶ νῦν φίλοι ΚΕΙ[ Κρηταιέ]ας ἅπαντας ἔπεμ[ψαν

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Γορτ]υνίος καὶ [Κν]οσίος [ τῶ]ν ἐλη[λ]υ[θ]ότων [ Γο]ρτυνίων καὶ ΠΟΡΤΑ[ ]Σ καὶ πορτὶ τὰς ἄλ[λας μετὰ πάν]σας σπουδᾶς κ[αὶ φιλοτιμίας ]ΕΝΟΙ παρεκάλιον ΛΑ[ ]ΕΣ το πολέμο ΔΥΣ[ ]Σ ἀγαθὰ [ ]ΤΟ[ ]Τ[ ]ΩΣ[ ]ΟΛΙ[ ]Ἑ ]ΛΓΛ[ ]ΣΤΑ[ ]ΕΙΑ[ ]μεθα Μυλασε[ ] ἀποστολαὶ [ ]ΝΟ[ ]IO[ ]Λ[

L. 4–5: Waddington: [πορτὶ Κρηταιέ]ας ἅπαντας ἔπεμ[ψαν πρειγευτάς καὶ μάλιστα | πορτὶ || L. 5: [Κν]οσίος spelled with ‘o’ rather than ‘ω’ || L. 7: ΠΟΡΤΑ (copy of Le Bas); Waddington:  πορτ’ α[ὑτὸς; Baunack:  πορτ’ ἀ[μέ? || L. 9: Le Bas: ΕΑΣ || L. 11: Baunack:] ἐς το πολέμο || L. 15: Waddington: μεθ’ ἃ Μυλασε[ῦσιν.

Ι. Mylasa 643 Ed. pr. Le Bas-Waddington no.  382. Baunack 8/9, no. II; Blass SGDI no. 5159; Rigsby Asylia no. 189; Wilhelm, Griechische Inschriften rechtlichen Inhalts 85–86. Cf. SEG 13. 489; ΒΕ 1953, 186. Found in a private house. Script:  ‘belles lettres avec de très-petits apices’ (Le Bas). Letter height: 1.2cm. The right side of the stone is preserved. 1

5

[βοαθῆν Μυλασεῦσι παντ]ὶ σθέναι καὶ τὸς ἐν [τᾶι νάσωι Κρηταιέας] καὶ τὸς ἔξω τᾶς νά[σω οἰκίοντας ὡς αὐτᾶς] τᾶς Κρήτας πολεμω[μένας? ] ἀδικίωντι Μυλασέας [ ] τούτοις μὴ ἦμεν ἐπι[ ] τὰ μέγιστα ἀσεβή[ματα? ]ΑΙ δαμοσίως καὶ αὐτῶν [ πρε]ιγεύεν δὲ καὶ ποτὶ τὸς [ ]σσων καὶ τὸς δυνάστας

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15

[ τὰς] πόλιας, ὅπως ἐν εἰ[ρήναι ἀφορ]ολόγητοι ἔωντι τάν [τε πόλιν καὶ τὰν χώραν] αὐτῶν ἱαρὰν ἐξ ἀρχᾶς [ καὶ ἦμεν π]ρόξενον καὶ εὐεργέταν [τᾶς πόλιος ]Ν πάντων ἁμῶν μετε[ ἀνθρ]ωπίνων ἀρετᾶς ἕνεκα [καὶ εὐνοίας ποτί τὰν πόλι]ν τ[ε καὶ πο]τὶ τὸ Κρη[ταιέων ]Γ[ ]

L. 3: Waddington: οἰκίοντας; Blass: πάντας Κρήτας || Ll. 2–4: Wilhelm: νά-]| [σω Κρῆτας ἅπαντας ὡς αὐτας] τᾶς Κρήτας πολεμω|[μένας] || Ll. 4–5: Wilhelm: [αἴ δὲ κά τινες τῶν ἔξω] ἀδικίωντι Μυλασέας |[ἤ τὰν πόλιν ἤ τὰν χώραν αὐτων,] τούτοις || L. 7: Baunack: ἰδίᾳ κ]αὶ δαμοσίως || L. 8: ΙΤΕΥΕΝ (Le Bas); Baunack: πολ]ιτεύεν? || Ll. 5–8: Wilhelm: τούτοις μὴ ἦμεν ἐπι|[στροφὰν ἐν τὰν νᾶσον ὡς] τὰ μέγιστα ἀσεβή|[σασιν, κατάρας τε γίνεσθ]α̣ι δαμοσίως καὶ αὐτῶν |[καὶ τᾶς γενεᾶς αὑτῶν] || L. 9: Waddington: πρά]σσων || L. 11: Waddington, Blass: [ρήναι διαμένωντι καὶ ἀφορ]ολόγητοι || L. 13: Waddington: beginning [ὑπάπχουσαν] || Ll. 8–13: Wilhelm: πρε]ιγεύεν δὲ καὶ ποτὶ τὸς | [συνέδρος τῶ κοινῶ τῶν νά]σσων καὶ τὸς δυνάστας | [καὶ τὸς βασιλέας καὶ τὰς] πόλιας, ὅπως ἐν εἰ|[ρήναι συντηρίωντι καὶ ἀφορ]ολόγητο ἔωντι τάν | [τε πόλιν καὶ τὰν χώραν] αὐτῶν ἱαρὰν ἐξ ἀρχᾶς |[ὑπάρχουσαν· ἧμεν δὲ καὶ] πρόξενον || Ll. 14–15: Blümel: either μετέ[χεν] or μετέ[χοντα] || Ll. 13–17: Wilhelm: εὐεργέταν | [τὸν δᾶμον τὸν Μυλασέω]ν πάντων ἁμῶν μετέ|[χοντα θείων τε καὶ ἀνθρ]ωπίνων ἀρετᾶς ἕνεκα | [καὶ εὐνοίας τᾶς ποτί τὰν νᾶσο]ν τ[ε καὶ πο]τὶ τὸ Κρη|[ταιέων κοινόν]. Cf. Robert and Robert BE 1953: no. 186, who are sceptical about Wilhelm’s restorations.

I. Mylasa 644 Ed. pr. Le Bas-Waddington no. 383a. Baunack 9/10, no. IIIa; Blass SGDI no. 5160a; Rigsby Asylia no.190. Found in a private house by Le Bas; recorded again by E.  Hula (Skizzenbuch I 46). Limestone block: height 0.21m; width 0.69m; depth 0.30m. Squeeze: Wien, Paris. Facsimile: I. Mylasa, p. 243. Inscribed in two columns; the same stone as I. Mylasa 645 (left column: 644; right: 645). Similar script to I. Mylasa 643.

219

220

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1

5

10

[  ].[   ]Λ[   ] [    ]ΩΡΙΟ[  ]Ι̣ΟΙΣ Μυλασέων ἢ χ[ώρ]αι̣ [  ]Ν βοαθῆν Μυλασεῦσι παντὶ [  σθένει καὶ τὸνς ἐ]ν τᾶι νάσωι Κρηταιέανς καὶ [ τὸνς ἔξω τᾶς νάσω Κρ]ή̣τανς πάντανς τὸνς ϝοικίον[τανς ]ΤΑΣ, ὡς αὐτᾶς τᾶς Κρήτας πο[λεμωμένας πρ]εσβεύειν δὲ καὶ πορτὶ τὸνς [ ]ΤΩΝ καὶ τὸνς δυνάστανς καὶ [τὰνς πόλιανς ὅπως εἰρήν]αν τε ἔχωντι καὶ ἀφορολό[γητοι ἔωντι τάν τε πόλι]ν καὶ τὰν χώραν [αὐ]τ[ῶν.]

L. 5: Hula: ΙΤΑΝΣ; Waddington: πολί]τανς; Blass: Κρή]τανς || L. 6: Wilhelm, Arch. Epigr. Mitt. Österr. 20 (1897) 85: ὡς αὐτᾶς τᾶς Κρήτας πο[λεμωμένας] || L. 7: Squeeze: ΔΕΚΑΙ.

Ι. Μylasa 645 Ed. pr. Le Bas-Waddington no. 383b. Baunack 10, no. IIIb; Blass SGDI no. 5160b; Rigsby Asylia no. 191. Same stone as I. Mylasa 644. The left margin is preserved. 1

5

[τάν] τε πόλ[ιν κῶντι ἐξ Α[ καὶ αἲ κά τιν[ες τι πολέμια Τ[ Μυλασέων ἢ [χώραι βοαθεῖν Μυλ[ασεῦσι παντὶ σθένει Κρήτας πολε[μωμένας καὶ πορτὶ τὸν[ καὶ ΠΡΟ[

ἀδι]πράσσων]-

ὡς αὐτᾶς τᾶς] πρεσβεύειν δὲ]

L.4: Waddington: τ[ᾷ πόλει.

I. Mylasa 646 Ed. pr. Le Bas-Waddington no. 384a. Baunack 10, no. IVa; Blass SGDI no. 5161; Rigsby Asylia no. 192. Found in the same private house as 643 and 644/5 by Le Bas; recorded again by E. Szanto (Skizzenbuch II 9).

21

Appendix 2

Letter height 1.4cm. Stone height 0.21m; width 0.52m. Inscribed in two columns; the same stone as I. Mylasa 647 (left column: 646; right: 647). Same script to 644/5. 1

5

[ [ [τὶ? [λέμω? [ [αι [φίλων [ [νες

]Σ[ ]ΕΣ ]Ι τε Τ[ π]ορΚρητ]αιέα[ς ] τῶ πο]Ν τῶι [ ] ἐπὶ τὰν ]ΑΣΙΝΕΙ[ ]Α̣Ν ποιήσαθΜυλασέ]ων ἰόντων συγγενίων καὶ ]ΩΣ τάν τε πόλιν ἀσφαλίως κα]ὶ ἄσυλον ἴατ̣[τα]ν· καὶ εἲ κά τι]

L. 3:  Κρητ]αιέα[ς; restored by Baunack. || L.  5:  End ΠΟΙΗΣΑΘ; Szanto. || L. 8: Baunack: ἱαρὰν κα]ὶ ἄσυλον; Blass: ἴατ̣[τα]ν.

I. Mylasa 647 Ed. pr. Le Bas-Waddington no. 384b. Baunack 11, no. IVb; Rigsby Asylia no. 193. Same stone as I. Mylasa 646. 1

5

ΙΩ[ ΔΑ[ ΠΕΡ[ ΣΕΙ[ ΦΙΛΟ[ ΤΟΣ[ ΛΕΙΑ[ ΣΕΩ[

I. Mylasa 648 Ed. pr. Cousin-Diehl BCH 12 (1888) 8–11, no. 1. Baunack 249, no. Va; Blass SGDI no. 5162a; Rigsby Asylia no. 194. Inscribed in two columns on the same stone as I. Mylasa 649 and 650 (left column: 648 and 649; right: 650).

221

222

Appendix 2

Squeeze: Paris. 1

]Σ τὰ ἱερἔς τ]ε τῶ Διὸς ]IΣ

I. Mylasa 649 Ed. pr. Cousin-Diehl BCH 12 (1888) no. 1. Baunack 249, no. Vb; Blass SGDI no. 5162a; Rigsby Asylia no. 195 Same stone as I. Mylasa 648 and 650. 1

5

10

15

[ἔδοξε τοῖς κόσμοις καὶ τᾶι πό]λει· ἐπειδὴ [Μυλασέεν ὑπάρχοντες συγγενίεν καὶ φίλοι δι]ὰ προγόνων [τᾶς ἁμᾶς πόλιος πρειγευτὰς ἀπέστειλαν μετὰ] τῶ ψαφίσ[ματος λ]αβόντας [ ]Η καὶ τὰ [ ἀλ]λάλονς [ καὶ ἀνανεώσασθαι] τὰν ἐξ ἀρ[χᾶς φιλίαν ] ὅπως τὸ [ ]ΡΙΟΝ ἐν [ ]ΩΝ καὶ [ εὔνο]ιαν τὰν [ ]ΟΝΤΩΝ [ τῶ ἔθ]νιος [ ?ὁμ]οίως [ ]Θ̣ΑΘΑΙ

L. 2: Blümel: or Μυλασίες. || L. 3: Blümel: or πρειγευτὰνς || Ll. 7-8: Baunack.

I. Mylasa 650 Ed. pr. Cousin-Diehl BCH 12 (1888) 8–11, no. 1. Baunack 250, no. Vc; Blass SGDI no. 5162b; Rigsby Asylia no. 196. Cf. SEG 4. 231. Same stone as I. Mylasa 648 and 649. 1

ἀγαθᾶι τύχαι· ἔδοξε [ τοῖς κόσ]μοις καὶ τᾶι πόλι· ἐπε[ιδὴ Μυλασέεν ὑπάρχοντες]

23

Appendix 2

5

10

15

20

συγγενίεν καὶ φίλοι δ̣[ιὰ προγόνων τᾶς ἁμᾶς πόλιος] καὶ τῶν ἄλλων Κρητα[ιέων ] ως μόνοι παρὰ τὸς ἄλλ[ος ] ται περὶ τᾶς κοινᾶς εἰρ[ήνας ] τῶ ἔθνιος ἐμπ̣ε̣τόντ[ος πό]λεμος Κρηταιέων πά[ντων ] σον κοινὰν καὶ ἴσαν ε[ὔνοιαν καὶ φιλοστοργίαν] περὶ παντὸς τῶ κοινῶ [ σύ]σταμα συνᾶκται Κρητ[αιε Μυλα]σέεν ἄξιοί ἐντι μεγαλ̣[ διαφυλάτ]τεν ἐς Κρηταιέας πάν[τας τὰν ὑπάρχονσαν] εὔνοιάν τε καὶ φιλοστ[οργίαν ] ἐπαινῆσθαι τὸμ Μυλασ[έων δᾶμον καὶ στεφα]νῶσθαι αὐτὸν μετ’ ἀνα[γορεύσιος ] καὶ εὐεργεσίαι θείων [τε καὶ ἀνθρωπίνων πάν]των μέτοχον ἀρετᾶ[ς ἕνεκα καὶ εὐνοίας ] τᾶς ἐς Κρηταιέας καὶ [ ] ον ὃ καὶ μὴ Μυλασεῦσι [ ]

L. 16: Robert: ἀνα[γορεύσιος.

I. Mylasa 651 Ed. pr. Doublet-Deschamps, BCH 14 (1890) 618–620, no. 17. Blass SGDI no. 5163a; Rigsby Asylia no. 197. Marble block: height 0.43m; width 0.78m; depth 0.34m. Inscribed in two columns; the same stone as I. Mylasa 652 (left column: 651; right: 652). 1

5

10

[ [ [σαντας [ [ [κεν [ [ [νὸν [ [ [

]Ν δια[λ]εγέντας ψαφ]ίσματι καὶ ἐπιδαμή]ΙΝ καὶ ἁμὲν ἁμῶν προ] Μυλασέων καὶ τὸς αὐτ]οῖς καλοκἀγαθίας ἕνεἐ]ς τὸ ξενοτρόφιον καὶ ἐ]κ τῶ νόμω περὶ δὲ τᾶς ]ΩΝΤΙ Μυλασεῖς τὸ κοιἀποκρίνασ]θαι αὐτοῖς ἁμέ, ὅτι ΑΙ]ΕΝ συμμάχων ἐπὶ τῶι ]ΝΤΙ[ ]ΝΕΣ δὲ οὐχ ὑπομε]Ε τὰν ἐθνικὰν συνθή-

223

224

Appendix 2

15

[καν [ [ [αν [σωι

πόλ]εμον ἦμεν· διὸ καὶ ἁμὲν ]ΙΣ διατηρῶντες τὰ παπαρα]δεδομένα ἐπιμέλει] συμφερόντων τᾶι νάπε]ρὶ τούτων σαφέως

L. 2: Blass: [ἀκολούθως τῶι ψαφ]ίσματι || Ll. 6–7: ed. pr.: [καλέσαι αὐτὸς ἐ]ς τὸ ξενοτρόφιον καὶ | [δόμεν αὐτοῖς ξένια ἐ]κ τῶ νόμω || L. 8: ed. pr.: ἀδικ]ῶντι || L. 9: ed. pr.: δίδοσ]θαι.

I. Mylasa 652 Ed. pr. Doublet-Deschamps, BCH 14 (1890) 618–620, no. 17. Blass SGDI no. 5163b; Rigsby Asylia no. 198. Cf. Chaniotis ZPE 71 (1988), 154–156; SEG 38. 1071. Same stone as I. Mylasa 651. 1

5

10

ἀξιολόγωμ πο[ιητ]ᾶν τε [καὶ καὶ Θαλήτα τῶ Κρητὸς καὶ Ζ[ήνωνος προξένος καὶ γένος αὐτῶν [ νομιζόμενα ξένια· περὶ δὲ [ παρα]καλέοντι Μυλασέες, οἱ πρε[ιγευταὶ ἐμφα]νιξάτωσαν αὐτοῖς ἃ παρα[ γὰρ χαρίξασθαι Μυλασεῦσ[ι ας ὑπόμναμα{μα} ὑπάρχηι ποτὶ Μ[υλασέας τὸ ψάφισμα τόδε παρὰ μὲν ἁ̣[μὶν ἐς τῶι ἱαρῶι τῶ] Ἀπέλλωνος Πυτίο, παρὰ δὲ [Μυλασεῦσι αὐτῶν ἔς τε τῶ Ζανοποτε[ιδᾶνος καὶ τῶ Διὸς] τῶ Λαβραύνδω· καὶ ἐς τὰ Ε[

L. 1:  Blass:  ἀξιολόγωμ L. 2: Chaniotis: Ζ[ήνωνος].

πο[ιητ]ᾶν

τε

[καὶ

συγγραφέων?

I. Mylasa 653 Ed. Blümel, I. Mylasa (1987–1988). Rigsby Asylia no. 199. Found in a private house by E. Hula (Skizzenbuch I 33). Letter height 1.6–1.7cm. Limestone block: height 0.23m; width 0.41m; depth 0.18m.

||

25

Appendix 2

1

5 [τεως [τῶ Κρητὸς

]ες τε κρη?πατρ]ίδα μετὰ ] ἐπὶ τῶι ]ΤΑΣΑΝ συ]γγενειΚρητ]αιέας πίσἀξι]ολόγων κ]αὶ Θαλήτα α]ὐτὸς καὶ

L. 1: Blümel: Κρή|[ταν]?

I. Mylasa 654 Ed. pr. Judeich Ath. Mitt. 15 (1890) 262–263, no. 16. Blass SGDI no. 5164; Guarducci IC 4. 178; Rigsby Asylia no. 200. Found in a private house. Letter height 1.5cm. Script: ‘kleine apices’. Grey marble block: height 0.26m; width 0.34m; depth 0.27m. Broken bottom and left. 1

5

10

]ΑΙΑ κο̣ιν[ ]ΟΕΣ[ ] Ε̣ὐνομίας α[ἱ]λιομε[ν ]ΙΩ τὸμ πόλεμον [ ].ΙΣ τῶ βωλομμέ[νω κ]α̣ὶ ἁμὲν καὶ Κνώσιοι [ συ]ν̣τηρίοντες τὰ νομι[ζόμενα τὰ]ν δ’ ἐπιμέλειαν ποι[ ]ΟΣ πάνσι Κρηταιεῦσι [ ]ένων καὶ οὐχ ἑρ[ ] ταῖς κοινα[ῖς

I. Mylasa 655 Ed. pr. Hula-Szanto, Sber. Ak. Wiss. Wien 132 (1895) II 13, no. 4. Rigsby Asylia no. 201. Found in a private house by Szanto (Skizzenbuch II 14).

225

226

Appendix 2

Letter height 1.8cm. Stone height 0.41m; width 0.21m. 1

5

10

15

ΚΑΙ[ ]Τ.[ ΝΩΙ τὰν ΔΑ[ στεφάνωι [ Ἰ]άσονος τῶ [ Ἀρισ]τέαν Ἰατροκ̣[λεῦς ΕΜΕΚΑΚΑΙΕ[ καὶ τὰν αὐτω[ ἀνανεώσα[σθαι τὰν ἐξ ἀρχᾶς φιλίαν αν· ἵνα δὲ καὶ [ ἐς] τὸν ἀεὶ χρόν[ον ψάφισμα πὰ[ρ μὲν ἁμὶν ἐς ?ἱ]αρῶι, πὰρ δὲ [Μυλασεῦσι αὐτῶν ἔς τε [τῶ Ζανοποτειδᾶνος καὶ τῶ Διὸς τῶ] [Λ]αβραένδο [ [τ]ῶν ἰόντω[ν [  ]ΑΦΑΝΙΤΤ[

Ll. 3–4: cf. I. Mylasa 656, 3:  Ἰά]σονος τῶ Διοτ[ίμω. || L. 5: ed. pr.:  ἰατροι || L. 6: ed. pr.: ἕεκα καὶ ε[

I. Mylasa 656 Ed. pr. Blümel, I. Mylasa (1987–88). Rigsby Asylia no. 202. Found in a private house by E. Hula (Skizzenbuch II 27). Letter height 1.7cm. Stone height 0.18m; width 0.40m. 1

5

].[ σ]τεφανο[  Ἰά]σ̣ονος τῶ Διοτ[ίμω  Ἰ]ατροκλείους τῶ Οὐλ[ιάδα  ἕν]εκεν καὶ ΣΟΤΑΤ̣Ο̣[  ].Σ τε τὰν ἁμὰ[ν  ] πατρίδα καὶ εἰσ[ 

27

Appendix 2

I. Mylasa 657 Ed. pr. Blümel I. Mylasa (1987–1988). Blümel, Arastirma Sonuçlari Toplantisi 16. 1 (1998) 403/4; Rigsby Asylia no. 203. SEG 49. 1433. Found reused in a barn; copied by E. Hula (Skizzenbuch II 28). Letter height 1.1cm. Limestone block: height 0.22m; width 0.35m; depth 0.16m. Photo: W. Blümel. Figure 7. 1

5

[ ]ΙΔΙΑ[ [ ]Α Μυλασεῦ[σι ἄριστον ὑπάρχειν δὲ καὶ [ τα φιλάνθρωπα ἃ καὶ το[ῖς ἄλλοις? εἴθ̣ισται· ἵνα δὲ καὶ τοῖς Ε̣[ ε̣ὶ χρόνον τῶν φιλανθρώ[πων ΟΛΕΣΙΝ ὑπόμναμα ὑ[πάρχηι ποτὶ Μυλασέας δε τὸ ψάφισμα παρὰ μὲ[ν ἁμὶν κ̣αὶ πρότερον ἀνεγέ̣γ̣ρ̣[απτο

ἐς τὸν ἀ]τό]-

L. 1:  Blümel (1998); not in I. Mylasa. || L.  2:  Blümel (1998). I. Mylasa: Μυλασεῖ[ς. || L. 7. Blümel (1998). I. Mylasa: ΟΛΕΣΕΙΝ.

I. Mylasa 658 Ed. pr. Blümel I. Mylasa (1987–1988). Rigsby Asylia no. 204. Found to the southeast of the city; copied by E. Hula (Skizzenbuch II 36). Letter height: 1.4 cm. Bluish stone: height 0.21m; width 0.24m; depth 0.33m. 1

5

τ]ύχαι Μυλα[σε  ]Ι εὐνοίαι καὶ φ[ιλοστοργίαι  ]ΝΣ ὅτι ὅσον [  ἀποστ]αλέντας παρὰ [  ] καὶ ἁ ὁμόνοια Π̣[  ]. τῶ πολέμω Ι[  ] ταύται κατ̣[ 

227

228

Appendix 2

I. Mylasa 659 Ed. pr. Blümel I. Mylasa (1987–8). Rigsby Asylia no. 205. Letter height 2.0cm. Limestone fragment: height 0.21m; width 0.16m. 1

5

]ΔΑ[ ]Σ αὐτο[ κ]αὶ τὰν πα[τρίδα ]Ν δ’ ἀναγγ[ε δᾶμ]ος ὁ Μυλασ[έων ]ΩΝ ἀγῶσι Κ[ ἀνα]γόρευσιν Κ[ ]ξιων Δ̣ιο[

I. Mylasa 660 Ed. pr. Blümel EA 13 (1989) (right-hand side of the text); EA 19 (1991). Rigsby Asylia no. 207. Two fragments put together by Blümel; left-hand fragment was found after the demolition of a house in the centre of Milas. Letter height 1.4–1.5cm. Marble fragment (left): height 0.31m; width 0.44m; depth 0.17m. Photo: Blümel. Inscribed in two columns; the same block as I. Mylasa 663 (right column: 660; left column: 663). 1

5

10

[ ]ΑΝ. [ ἀφ̣[ορολόγητοι ἔωντι τάν τε] πόλιν καὶ τὰν̣ [χώραν] αὐτ̣[ῶν ἱαρὰν ἐξ ἀρχᾶς ] οικιόντων· ἐπ̣[αινέσται] δὲ καὶ τ[ὸνς πρειγευτὰς] Διονύσιον καὶ Ἁ[πολ]λώνιον [ καλοκαγαθίας ἕν]εκα καὶ ἐπὶ τῶι δια[ ] μεν ὑπε[ ἀ]ξίως Κρηταιέων καὶ τας αὐτῶν [πατρίδος· πολλὰ δὲ κ]αὶ ἔνδοξα προφερομένων κα[τὰ τὰν διὰ προγόνων] ὑπάρχονσαν συγγένειαν [καὶ εὔνοιαν καὶ φιλία]ν πορτὶ Κρηταιέας πάντ[ας τ]ὸνς μετὰ πάνσας ἐπιμελε[ίας ]Σ διαλεγέντας τε A-

]

29

Appendix 2

I. Mylasa 661 Ed. pr. Blümel EA 19 (1991). Rigsby Asylia no. 208. Found after the destruction of a private house in Uzunbekir Sokak. Letter height 1.5–1.8cm; omicron: 1.1–1.2cm. Grey marble block: height 0.42m; width 0.47m; depth 0.27m. Top and left side preserved; broken on the right and at the back. Photo: W. Blümel. Figure 6. Stone: Milas Museum. Inscribed in two columns; the same block and script as I. Mylasa 662 (left column: 661; right: 662). 1

5

10

15

[ ]σε̣ι̣ν̣ κ̣α[ ]α [ ]α ὑπαρ[χ?τέσ]σ̣α̣ρ̣ας [ ]η καὶ [ ἀφο]ρολόγη[τοι ἔωντι τάν τε πόλιν καὶ τὰν χώραν αὐ]τ[ῶ]ν ἱαραν [ἐξ ἀρχᾶς ἐπ]αινέσαι δὲ καὶ [τοὺς πρειγευτὰς Διονύσιον καὶ Ἀπωλλ]ώνιον καλοκἀ[γαθίας ἕνεκα ?πά]ντας Κρηταιεῖς [ ?συλ]λύσεων ἀξί[ως Κρηταιέων καὶ τᾶς αὐτῶν πα]τρίδος πολλὰ [δὲ καὶ ἔνδοξα προφερομένων κατὰ τὰν δι]ὰ προγόνων ὑ[πάρχουσαν συγγένειαν καὶ εὔνοια]ν̣ καὶ φιλίαν [πορτὶ Κρηταιεῖς πάντας ?πολλο]ὺς τρόπους [ ]μ̣ενους [ ]Λ̣Ι

Ι. Mylasa 662 Ed. pr. Blümel EA 19 (1991). Rigsby Asylia no. 209. Letter height 1.4–1.5cm; omicron 1.1cm. Inscribed on the same stone as I. Mylasa 661. Figure 6. 1

πολε[μ]ω[μ]ε[ν ΑΣΗΤΑ τῷ Μ[υλασέων δάμῳ? τᾶς Κρήτας [πολεμωμένας ρα καὶ δαμο[σίως

] ὡς αὐτᾶς] ] πρει]-

229

230

Appendix 2

5

10

15

γευέν δὲ κα[ὶ ποτὶ τὸς ] καὶ τὸς δυν[άστος καὶ καὶ τὰς πόλιας, ὅπως] ἐν εἰρήναι τ [ηρίωντι καὶ ἀφορολόγητοι ἔωντι τάν τε πόλιν] καὶ τὰγ χώρα̣[ν αὐτῶν ἱαρὰν ἐξ ἀρχᾶς ] οἰκιόντων [ τὸν] Μυλασέων δ̣[ᾶμον? εὐεργεσίαι θεί]ωγ καὶ ἀνθρ[ωπίνων πάντων μέτοχον ] ποτὶ πᾶν τὸ [ ἐπαινέσαι δὲ καὶ] τὸς πρειγε[υτὰς καλο]κἀγαθίας ἕν̣[εκα ] Κρηταιέ[α]ς̣ Ι̣[ ἐού]σας πίστεος [ ]σθαι αὐτὸς [ ] Υ[ ]Ω̣[ ]

I. Mylasa 663 Ed. pr. Blümel EA 19 (1991); Rigsby Asylia no. 206. Inscribed on the same stone as I. Mylasa 660 (left hand side). 1

5

10

[ [ [ [ [τας [ [ [ [ [ [

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Index

258

Abu Simbel, 36 Achaemenid Empire, 32, 46 Aegean islands, 1, 3, 4, 10, 13, 29, 57 Aelian, 21, 29, 91n. 4 Aeschylus, 71 Ahhiyawa, 98n. 50, 112, 118, 119 Aitolia, 81, 81n. 155, 150n. 134, 159n. 198, 163n. 225, 195 Aitolian League, 161 Akakallis, 6n. 27, 67 Alabanda, 50, 50n. 109, 53n. 126, 54, 54n. 135, 125n. 8, 133, 138n. 68, 182n. 73, 210 Alaksandu treaty, 115 Alexander the Great, 10n. 41, 33, 52n. 119, 96, 134, 134n. 44, 137, 157, 170, 194, 194n. 30, 205n. 89 Iskander, 96 Alexandria, 13, 13n. 67, 14n. 70, 96, 125n. 8, 160n. 204 Alinda, 50, 54, 54n. 135 Amasis, 35–36 Amazons, 17, 22, 22n. 107, 80n. 146 Amyzon, 54, 56, 155, 155n. 176, 189–190, 192, 193, 194, 196, 212 Zeus Kretagenetas. See Zeus Kretagenetas and Diktynna Anax, 67n. 53, 84n. 176, 91 Anineta, 97 Anthes, 59, 60, 174 Antigonid kingdom, 15, 133, 206 Antigonos Doson, 15n. 77, 135n. 47, 157n. 193, 161 Antigonos Monophthalmos, 197 Antioch, 134, 194n. 30 Antiochos II, 15n. 76 Antiochos III, 56, 133, 162, 178n. 59, 190, 193, 195, 196, 206, 207 alliance with Euromos, 146, 190–192, 199 alliance with Philip V, 158n. 196 at Amyzon, 155n. 176, 190, 194, 196, 199–200 at Teos, 150n. 134 defeat at Apameia, 183 ruler cult, 200n. 53 Antiochos the son, 190, 196

Antoninus Liberalis, 66, 67 Apasa, 113, 115 Aphrodisias, 8n. 36, 22n. 107, 33n. 7, 46, 54, 57n. 147, 82, 82n. 163, 201n. 54, 210 basilica reliefs, 54n. 133, 56, 57n. 147, 70n. 81, 97, 176 Aphrodite, 22n. 107, 78 Aphrodite Schoinitis, 173 Apollo, 6n. 27, 66, 67, 121, 122, 122n. 202, 122n. 206, 161, 163, 170, 172n. 27, 180, 186, 190, 241 and Artemis, 65, 82, 161, 200 Apollo Delphinios, 121 Apollo Didymeus, 178n. 61 Ptoan Apollo, 45 Apollodorus of Athens, 37, 37n. 32 Apollonius of Aphrodisias, 33 Apollonius Rhodius, 68, 172n. 21 Appian, 22n. 107 Appius Claudius, 142, 142n. 95 Aptera, 133, 133n. 39, 152n. 146 Ariadne, 74, 174, 174n. 40 Aristophanes, 37, 49n. 107 Aristotle, 76, 191n. 11, 194, 194n. 28, 208n. 101 Arkades, 150, 150n. 138, 152n. 146, 152n. 147, 162n. 219 Arnuwanda, 116 Arsinoë, 13n. 67 Artemis, 82, 161, 172n. 27, 200 Artemis Ephesia, 118n. 183 Artemis Leukophryene, 80, 80n. 145, 80n. 146, 178 Artemisia Persian Wars, 14 sister/wife of Maussollos, 14, 59, 125, 148n. 127 Arzawa, 20, 112–115, 113n. 143, 116 Asandros, 11n. 48, 205n. 89 Asklepios, 161 Assuwa, 113, 113n. 144, 115n. 163, 118, 118n. 181 Assyria, 20n. 98, 57, 97, 97n. 42 contacts with Anatolia, 97 Ninos and Semiramis, 97n. 42, 174, 175n. 44

259

Index Asterios, 67n. 53, 91, 91n. 1 asylia, 138, 138n. 74, 140, 158, 158n. 195 Teian asylia. See Teos: Cretan grants of asylia Atabyrion, Mount, 11, 80 ateleia, 131, 132, 152 Athena, 171, 173, 204n. 79 Athenian tribute lists, 32 Athens, 66, 70n. 74, 91, 95, 163, 174, 202n. 64, 202n. 68 cult of Bendis. See Bendis at Athens cult of Zeus Labraundos, 201 Attalid kingdom, 15, 15n. 76, 133, 163n. 225, 182n. 74, 204n. 79 Attalos I, 133n. 38, 135n. 47, 178n. 59 autochthony, 6, 29, 29n. 141, 66, 67n. 49, 69, 209 Badakhshan, 96 barbarophōnoi, 34, 42, See Strabo: discussion of barbarophōnoi Bargylia, 54, 54n. 135, 86n. 196, 156 Basileus, cult of, 83–84 Basileus Kaunios, 84 Zeus Basileus, 84 Battle of Raphia, 133 Battos, 121n. 197, 170 Bellerophon, 70, 71, 71n. 83, 71n. 85, 78, 79 and Pegasos. See Pegasos Bendis at Athens, 201–202 Biannos, 152n. 146 bilingualism, 45, 48n. 97, 49 Black Sea, 8, 8n. 37, 154 Bodrum peninsula, 8 Bronze Age Mycenaean influence, 110 Boiotia, 121 Boiotians in Thessaly, 77n. 128 Borsippa, Babylonia, 8, 8n. 35 Bottiaia, 194–195 Byblis and Kaunos myth, 68 spring/fountain, 68, 69 Callimachus, 44n. 76, 122n. 206, 160, 160n. 204, 175, 175n. 48 Caria Carian identity, 1, 2, 46, 49, 51–56, 58–60, 212 Carian koinon, 51–53 geographical region, 32–33 Kar, 6, 7, 29, 34, 79 Carian language, 1–2, 41, 46, 49 alphabet, 2, 2n. 3, 70n. 79 graffiti, 40n. 49 karizein. See karizein linguistic acculturation in Caria, 48, 49, 51 Çeşme-Bağlararası, 109

Chalketor, 157n. 192, 206n. 97 Chersonesos, 10n. 48, 155, 212 Cretan Chersonesos, 152n. 153 Chios, 10, 38n. 35, 83, 119 Chrysaor, 53–54, 161, 162 and Bellerophon, 70, 71 and Pegasos, 53, 70, 70n. 81, 210 place name Chrysaoris, 54 Chrysaoric League, 82n. 162, 162, 162n. 216 Cilicia, 12, 13n. 67, 97, 115 Çine Tepecik, 110 Cretan-born Zeus. See Zeus Kretagenes/ Kretagenetas Crete Cretan koinon, 15, 133n. 38, 141–142, 149, 159, 165, 178–180, 181 Cretan mercenaries. See mercenaries First Cretan War, 142, 154n. 162, 154n. 164, 159 insularity, 11 Second Cretan War, 141n. 86 strategic importance, 15, 158 Venetian Candia, 16, 16n. 82 Ctesias of Knidos, 97 cultural agency, 23, 89, 165, 189, 200, 205, 207, 212 soldiers as cultural agents, 202–207 cultural interface, 1, 27, 28, 117 ‘Lower Interface’, 104, 112, 117 East Aegean/West Anatolian interface, 27 Cyclades, 4n. 10, 7, 10n. 43, 73, 101n. 72, 107n. 98 Cyprus, 12, 15n. 80, 41n. 56, 202, 203 Cyrene, 13, 14n. 70 foundation myth, 121, 121n. 197, 176 Daktyli, 84, 84n. 184, 85n. 185 Darrōn, 205 Datça peninsula, 8 Delos, 7, 122n. 206, 132 Delphi, 75, 77, 77n. 128, 121n. 197, 150n. 134, 165, 170, 178, 194n. 28 Delphic Amphiktiony, 150 foundation myth, 120, 122 Delphinion, 122n. 202 Dexippos, Koan doctor, 136 Diadochi, 134 dialects, 46n. 91 Didyma, 84, 85, 92n. 9 Diktynna Diktynnaistai, 204–205 Zeus Kretagenetas and Diktynna. See Zeus Kretagenetas and Diktynna Diodorus Siculus, 6, 6n. 24, 7, 52n. 119, 61, 67n. 53, 71, 73, 81, 93n. 16, 97, 159

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Index Dodekanese, 7, 8, 10, 13, 14, 28, 110, 117 ‘Lower Interface’. See cultural interface network ‘cluster’, 10n. 45 Dodona, 78n. 128 Dorian foundations, 33, 34, 37, 38, 40, 53 Dorian migration, 4, 66, 94, 95 Hexapolis, 59 double axe symbol, 16–25 Dreros, 122, 122n. 202, 152n. 153, 191n. 10, 207n. 99 Dyme, 135 East Aegean Koine, 104, 108, 112 Egypt, 6n. 25, 12, 14, 24, 45, 78n. 128, 121n. 196, 134, 154, 155, 162 Carian presence in Egypt, 8n. 35, 36, 136, 201, 201n. 59 Eleutherna, 15n. 77, 152n. 153, 162n. 219 Endymion, 6, 6n. 27, 60, 60n. 166, 81n. 155, 171–173, 174 Ephesos, 13, 21, 22n. 107, 38n. 35, 48n. 97, 60, 65, 79, 84, 92n. 8, 97, 110, 115, 135, 172n. 27 birth of Apollo and Artemis. See Ortygia kouretes, 82, 83 Ephorus, 8, 45, 45n. 81, 66, 66n. 44, 81n. 155, 160n. 205, 208n. 101 Epidamnos, 165, 203n. 78 epigraphy archives, 170, 177–178, 182n. 77 dating by letter forms, 146, 157n. 192, 172n. 20, 175, 192, 192n. 17 historical inscriptions, 77–78 Eranna, 152n. 146 Erythrai, 38n. 35, 48n. 97, 74, 84, 85, 85n. 187 Erythros myth, 74 etesians, 12 Eumenes II, 133n. 38, 142 Euripides, 36, 87 Euromos, 45, 125, 155, 157n. 192, 189, 193, 197n. 45 constitutional reforms, 190–192, 197, 199 cult of ‘Cretan-born’ Zeus. See Zeus Kretagenes/Zeus Kretagenetas dispute with Herakleia, 171, 172n. 20, 192 epigraphy, 145, 146 renamed as the Philippeis, 191, 197, 199 Europa, 5, 5n. 20, 67n. 53, 70, 71 Evans, A. J., 21, 24, 104 foundation mythologies, 63, 119–120 migration narratives, 4, 6, 66 garrisons, 45, 133, 155, 191, 197, 199, 203, 203n. 77, 204n. 79, 206 Ptolemaic garrison at Itanos, 14, 203n. 78

Gaulites, Kara diglōsson, 45 Gauls, 135n. 47, 148n. 122, 165, 170 Glaukos, 53n. 130, 54, 78, 79, 161 Gordiouteichos, 8n. 36 Gordis, 57n. 147, Gortyn, 77, 136n. 58, 141, 142, 142n. 95, 147n. 121, 152n. 151, 182, 185n. 86, 203 Greek koine, 49, 49n. 102, 59 Gyges, 17 Halbwachs, M., 63 collective memory, 63, 64 Halikarnassos, 14, 50, 50n. 112, 53, 53n. 126, 54, 57, 119, 136, 136n. 58, 201n. 54, 210 civic history recounted in the Salmakis inscription. See Salmakis Dorian identity, 38, 40, 59, 59n. 161, 59n. 165 Hekatomnid capital, 57, 59, 138, 156 mixed population, 38, 59, 59n. 163 peninsula. See Bodrum peninsula Hatti, 113, 116, 116n. 168, 117n. 175 Hattuša, 20, 112, 113n. 144, 118n. 178 Hattusili I, 113 Hattusili III, 116n. 171 Hecataeus, 63 Hekatomnid dynasty, 10, 33, 46, 46n. 88, 59, 125, 135, 138, 154 basileis, 52 Hekatomnos, 50, 59 Herakleia-under-Latmos, 10n. 48, 171–173, 176, 183, 201n. 54 dispute with Euromos, 171, 171n. 20, 193 Endymion myth. See Endymion isopoliteia treaty with Miletos. See treaties Herakles, 17 Heraklaidai, 195, 195n. 34 Hermesianax of Kolophon, 181 Hermias, Koan doctor, 136 Hermione, 135 Hermos River, 113 Herodoros of Herakleia, 66 Herodotus, 6n. 25, 21, 24n. 113, 45, 49, 51n. 118, 52n. 122, 61, 62, 93, 94n. 23, 207n. 101 Artemisia of Halikarnassos, 14 employment of mercenaries in Egypt, 34–36, 45 family, 40, 40n. 51 foundation of Cyrene, 121 foundation of Miletos, 39, 40, 67 Ionian migration, 38 Isagoras’ family, 202n. 68 on Caria, 2, 5, 7n. 28, 48, 51–52, 57, 69, 209 on Crete, 5n. 19

261

Index on Halikarnassos, 59n. 161 on Kaunos, 69, 75 on Lycia, 69, 70, 70n. 74 personal testimony, 97 Salmakis inscription, 174, 175 Hesiod, 71 Hierapytna, 15n. 77, 133, 142, 147n. 121, 155, 182, 187 Hippolyte, Amazonian queen, 22 Hobsbawm, E., 88 Homer, 10, 10n. 44, 34, 42, 43, 44, 71, 71n. 86, 78, 91n. 8 Homeric Hymn to Pythian Apollo, 120, 122 Hybandis, 134, 183, 185, 186 Hybandis river, 185 Hydai, 53n. 126, 157 Hydisos, 54, 54n. 135 Hyrtakina, 122n. 202, 152n. 146 Hyssaldomos, 50, 50n. 116 Iasos, 40n. 49, 53n. 126, 125, 156 ‘Little Sea’. See ‘Little Sea’ Bronze Age Iasos, 105–108, 110, 111, 119 epigraphy, 146 Idrieus, son of Hekatomnos, 52, 59n. 160 dedications at Labraunda, 46n. 88 Iliad,  1, 34 Indo-European languages, 1, 23, 23n. 111, 112n. 140 insularity, 10, 10n. 43 intentional history, 89 intermarriage, 42, 91, 135, 185, 187 mixed marriage, 24n. 115, 40 Ionia, 3, 52, 80n. 148 ‘Ionian migration’, 4, 38, 39n. 41, 40, 66, 67, 91, 92, 92n. 8, 94, 95, 120, 123 cities of Ionia, 38n. 35, 66, 74, 91n. 6 dialects, 48–49, 59 Ionian mercenaries, 34–36, 44 Ionian revolt, 51 Panionion, 51n. 118 Isagoras, 202n. 68 Isis, 202, 203, 204, 204n. 83 isopoliteia. See politeia Itanos, 14, 121, 147n. 121, 152n. 153, 182, 203, 203n. 78 Kabeiroi, 84, 84n. 183, 85n. 185 Kadmos, 5n. 20, 170 Kaikos River, 113 Kalash population, 96 Kalymnos, 10n. 47, 111 Kamares ware, 101, 107n. 97 Kaplan Kalesi. See Salmakis Kar. See Caria: Kar Karabel, 97, 110, 113

Karaburun peninsula, 109 Karikon teichos, 8 karizein, 44 Karkisa/Karkiya, 20, 115, 115n. 160, 115n. 163 Karōn limēn, 8 Karpathos, 10n. 44, 14, 15n. 78, 73, 110, 110n. 129 Kasos, 10n. 44, 110n. 129, 125n. 8 Kaunos, 12, 53n. 126, 66, 72, 75, 76, 84, 136, 201 myth, 67–69 Kephallonia, 164 Kildara, 53n. 126, 158n. 196 Kindye, 53, 156, 157 kinship diplomacy, 27, 147, 187 Athens and Kydonia, 163 Miletos and Crete, 186, 187 Xanthos and Kytenion. See Kytenion kinship, terminology, 163–164, 163n. 229 homogeneia, 163 oikeiotēs, 160, 163, 164 philia, 61, 74, 163 syngeneia, 74, 147, 160, 161, 162, 163, 164 Kition Kitian merchants at Athens, 202 Kızılbel, 70n. 81 Kizzuwatna, 114 Klaros, 74, 75 Klazomenai, 8n. 37, 38n. 35, 48n. 97, 198n. 48 Knidos, 12, 13, 13n. 68, 108, 119 peninsula. See Datça peninsula Knossos, 122n. 202, 125, 131, 136n. 58, 141, 142n. 95, 152n. 148, 154 dispute with Gortyn, 147n. 121, 182, 185n. 86 early excavations, 16, 17, 18n. 87 First Cretan War, 142 grant of proxenia by Maussollos and Artemisia, 14, 125, 148n. 127 Lyttian War, 153n. 154, 154 sailors from Knossos in the Homeric Hymn, 121 treaty with Miletos. See treaties: between Miletos and Cretan cities Kodros, 66, 74, 75, 76n. 118, 91, 91n. 8, 92n. 8 Kolophon, 38n. 35, 48n. 97, 110 Konon, mythographer, 68, 77, 194n. 28 Korybantes/Kyrbantes, 84–87 cult of, 85–86 Kos, 7, 10, 10n. 44, 13, 14, 24n. 115, 85, 100, 101n. 72, 107, 107n. 101, 136, 136n. 58, 139n. 76, 175n. 49, 197, 198 kosmoi, 191, 191n. 11 at Euromos, 190–192, 197n. 45

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Index Kouretes, 81–87 at Ephesos. See Ephesos: kouretes Carian kouretes, 87 cults of, 83–84, 86 Zeus Kretagenes and the Kouretes. See Zeus: Zeus Kretagenes Kranaos, king of Athens, 174, 174n. 37 tribe at Kaunos, 69n. 66 Krētinai/Krētinaion, 76, 80, 186 Kretopolis, 134, 135 Kriou Metōpon, 13 Kültepe, 97 Kydonia, 132, 152n. 153, 162n. 219, 163 Kytenion, 164 Kytenian delegation to Xanthos, 160–162, 164, 170 Labraunda, 18, 53, 55n. 142, 56n. 142, 155, 156, 156n. 176, 156n. 181, 172n. 26, 201 Andrones, 46n. 88 conflict with Mylasa, 55, 146, 157, 157n. 191, 157n. 193 cult. See Zeus Labraundos excavations, 19, 20, 105 Hekatomnid patronage, 46 origins of the name, 21, 24, 24n. 113, 50 labrys, 21–23 Labyrinth, 21, 23, 24, 24n. 113, 194n. 28 Lagina, 54n. 136, 55, 82, 176, 176n. 52 Lappa, 125, 125n. 8, 162n. 219 Latmos, 6n. 27, 185 Mount Latmos, 6n. 27, 34n. 12, 60n. 166, 115, 172, 172n. 25 Old Latmos, 10n. 48 Lato, 131n. 18, 133n. 38, 152n. 153, 162n. 219, 199n. 51 law codes, 197, 198, 207n. 101 Lebedos, 38n. 35, 48n. 97 synoikism with Teos, 197–199 Leleges, 2, 4, 38, 57n. 152, 68 Lelegian identity, 57–58 Lesbos, 118 Lazpa, 118 Lethaios River, 76 Leto, 82 Leukippos, 6, 169, 180, 181 Leukophrys, 80n. 145 myth, 65n. 34, 79, 80, 80n. 146 Libya, 8, 13, 78n. 128, 121, 170 lieux de mémoire, 65 Liman Tepe, 109 Lindian Chronicle, 169 Linear A, 24, 102, 107 Linear B, 23, 103 ‘Little Sea’, 156–157

local dynasts, 146n. 113, 156n. 181 Loryma, 81n. 156, 204 peninsula, 10 Lukka Lands, 20, 114, 114n. 154, 115, 115n. 155, 116, 118n. 181, 119 Luwian, 23, 23n. 112, 24, 46, 71 Luwic languages, 1, 46, 70n. 79 Luwiya, 112n. 140 Lycia, 12, 26, 32, 52, 57, 114 Cretan kinship, 69, 74 Lycian language, 1, 24n. 118, 46, 49n. 105, 70n. 79, 72, 112n. 140 mythologies, 54, 66, 68, 73, 78, 79, 161, 162 Lydia, , 6n. 24, 32, 37, 45n. 79, 48, 48n. 97, 51 Lydian language, 16, 17, 21, 23, 41n. 56, 46, 65, 65n. 37, 112n. 140 Lydos, 6 Lyttian War, 15n. 77, 147, 153n. 154, 154, 165n. 241, 182, 183 Lyttos, 15n. 76, 153n. 154 Mackenzie, D., 18, 25 Madduwatta, 116, 116n. 168 Maeander River, 32, 76, 98 myth, 69 valley, 8, 32n. 1, 58n. 158, 66, 97, 116 Magas of Cyrene, 134, 189n. 2 Magnesia-on-the-Maeander, 30, 76, 80, 81, 131, 139n. 76, 182n. 74, 212 ‘origin myth’, 77–78, 169, 177, 187, 212 arbitration on Crete, 147, 182, 183 connection to Delphi, 76, 77, 180, 181n. 67 Cretan settlers at Myus. See Myus I. Magnesia 20, 178–180 ktistēs. See Leukippos Leukophryena delegations, 163–164, 170, 178 Thessalian origins. See Thessaly Malla, 133n. 38, 149, 152n. 146, 152n. 147, 152n. 150 Mandrolytos, 78 Manthios River, 76n. 120, 78 Manto, 75 maritime itineraries periplous, 9, 10n. 41 portolans, 10n. 45 routes between the Aegean and Egypt, 13, 14 seasonal conditions, 12–14 Marmor Parium, 91n. 6, 94n. 23, 94n. 24, 95, 170 Marsyas River, 110 Maussollos, 5n. 17, 14, 50, 52, 57, 59, 59n. 160, 136, 138, 156

263

Index award of proxenia to the Knossians, 14, 125, 148n. 127 dedications at Labraunda, 46, 46n. 88 Maussolleion, 176 Megalopolis, 165 Melia, 38, 39n. 39 Melos, 12 Melqart, 41n. 56 meltem. See etesians Memphis, 35–36 Hellēnikon, 35 Karikon, 35 mercenaries, 135, 135n. 52, 186, 191n. 8, 203, 203n. 77, 205n. 89 Carian mercenaries, 7–8, 34–36, 43, 45, 49 Cretan mercenaries, 133–134, 148, 159, 195, 206–207 settled at Myus. See Myus middle ground, 28, 44 Miletos, 1, 10, 34, 34n. 12, 38n. 35, 40n. 49, 48, 59n. 159, 60, 72, 76, 84, 84n. 176, 86, 131n. 18, 132n. 29, 145n. 107, 178n. 61, 201n. 54, 210 archaeology and mythology, 92, 122, 123, 211 Bronze Age, 21, 100–104, 110, 111, 117, 118 customs, 40, 68 foundation mythology, 66–69, 72–73, 91–92, 186n. 97 identification with Millawanda. See Millawanda isopoliteia treaty with Herakleia. See treaties peace treaty with Magnesia. See treaties settlement of Cretan mercenaries. See Myus stephanephoroi lists, 145n. 105 treaties with Crete. See treaties Millawanda, 115, 116, 117 Milyan, 46, 69, 70n. 74 Mimnermus of Kolophon, 39n. 41 Minoan civilisation, 98 conical cups, 100, 101, 105, 109, 111 Minoanisation, 99 seals, 100 wall painting techniques, 102 Minos, 67n. 53, 69, 71, 73n. 102, 80 and Miletos, 66, 91, 120 chronology, 94, 94n. 23, 170 labyrinth, 17, 21, 194n. 28 lawgiver, 208n. 101 lineage, 5, 210 relationship with the Carians, 2, 3, 7, 30, 74, 76, 80 Sicily, 93, 93n. 16, 194n. 28 thalassocracy. See thalassocracy of Minos Mira, 20, 97, 113, 114, 115 Tarkasnawa, king of Mira, 97, 114

Mopsos, 75 Mother Goddess, 18, 84, 84n. 184, 85, 87 Mursili II, 113, 117n. 175, 118 Müsgebi necropolis, 109, 110, 111n. 136 Mycenaean civilisation chamber tombs, 103, 109, 110, 110n. 129, 111 identification with Ahhiyawa. See Ahhiyawa Mycenaeanisation, 99 terracotta figurines, 103, 107 Mykale, Mount, 34, 34n. 12, 78, 121 Mylasa, 17, 52, 52n. 122, 53, 54, 56n. 142, 84, 137, 201, 204, 205, 205n. 89, 208, 208n. 101, 210, 211 access to the sea, 157, 159 Cretan decrees, 124, 137–149, 155, 158–159, 206n. 94 cult of Zeus Kretagenes. See Zeus Kretagenes and the Kouretes cults. See Zeus Karios, Zeus Osogō/ Zenoposeidon dispute over Labraunda, 55, 146, 156, 157, 158n. 193 epigraphy, 143–146 myth, 54 native city of the Hekatomnids, 33, 137, 156 phylai, 58n. 157, 157 sympoliteiai, 158, 172n. 20, 192–193, 199 Mys, from Europos/Euromos, 45 Mysia, 6, 32, 48, 51 Mysos, 6 Myus, 38n. 35, 48, 182, 182n. 73, 183–185 settlement of Cretan mercenaries, 134–135, 183–186, 206–207 Nastes, 34 Naukratis, 45n. 79 Naxia, Caria, 121 Naxos, 6, 121 myth, 6, 6n. 27 Nearchos, 10n. 41, 134n. 44, 137 Neileus, 37, 66, 72, 119 grave, 65n. 34, 92n. 9 networks ‘networks of relatedness’, 160, 187 southeast Aegean, 15, 27, 159, 189, 212 Nikanor, Seleukid high priest, 190, 196, 196n. 40 Ninos. See Assyria: Ninos and Semiramis Nisyros, 10n. 44, 10n. 47, 14 Nonnus, 68, 86 Nysa, 22n. 107

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Index oikeiotēs. See kinship, terminology Oinopion, 65n. 34, 74n. 105, 74n. 106 Olophernes, the Persian, 137 Olous, 125, 131n. 18, 134, 142, 152n. 153, 155 Olymos, 52, 84 sympoliteia with Mylasa, 157, 157n. 191, 192 Olympichos, 146, 146n. 113, 156, 156n. 181 Omphale, Lydian queen, 17 onomastics, 51, 59, 59n. 160, 80n. 148, 135, 199, 210 Carian names, 24, 41, 59, 135n. 53 double-names, 41, 41n. 56 opposition between ‘Greeks’ and ‘Others’, 5, 28, 34, 44, 120 oracles, 32n. 2, 34n. 14, 45, 77, 77n. 128, 78, 78n. 128, 80, 82, 170, 178 Ortygia, 65, 82, 172n. 27 Otōrkondeis, 58n. 157, 192 Ovid, 67 Palaikastro, 18n. 87 Hymn to Zeus, 81n. 154, 173n. 28, 195n. 36 Pamphylia, 12, 13n. 67, 74, 78, 115, 125 Pamphylian gulf, 78 Pan, 203 Panamara, 50n. 113, 55n. 137, 156 Panyassis, 40, 41 epic poet, 174, 175 Parthenius of Nicaea, 67, 68, 78, 79, 181 Passala, port of Mylasa, 138n. 69 Patara, 13n. 67, 114n. 154, 201 Pausanias, 50, 53, 65, 67, 67n. 53, 74, 75, 91, 91n. 8, 92n. 9, 140n. 83 Peace of Apameia, 146n. 111, 183 Pedasa, 156, 173n. 35 peer polity interaction, 27 Pegasos, 70n. 81, 210 and Bellerophon, 54, 60, 60n. 166, 70, 97, 173, 174n. 36 and Chrysaor, 53, 70n. 81 coinage, 54, 173 Pelasgians, 4, 57 Pelops, 6n. 24 peraiai, 11n. 49 Rhodian. See Rhodes: peraia Perge, 125, 125n. 8 Persian wars, 14, 93 Persson, A.W., 19, 20, 23 Phaistos, 77, 152n. 151 Philip of Theangela, 33, 48, 57 Philip V, 15n. 77, 55, 146, 154, 156, 157n. 193, 158, 159n. 198, 170, 178n. 59, 182 alliance with Antiochos III, 158n. 196 at Euromos, 145n. 108, 191, 197, 206 Carian campaign, 145, 155, 182, 183, 185

prostatēs of the Cretan koinon, 15, 141, 158, 159, 181, 206 Philippeis. See Euromos Philopoimen, 15n. 77 Phoenicians, 3, 5, 12, 13n. 65 Phoenician language, 41n. 56 Phokaia, 15n. 77, 38n. 35, 48n. 97 Phrygia, 6n. 24, 20, 32, 32n. 2, 33n. 7, 57, 84 Physkos, 138n. 69 Pidasa, 50, 59n. 159, 131n. 18, 173n. 35 Pihaššašši, Luwian storm god, 70n. 81 Pilavtepe, 110 Pillars of Herakles, 8 piracy, 3–4, 132, 153–154 Cretan piracy, 149–155 Pisidia, 32, 32n. 2, 57n. 152, 84, 113, 134 Pisye, 204 Pixodaros, son of Hekatomnos, 136 Piyamaradu. See Tawagalawa Letter Plarasa. See Aphrodisias Plato, 36, 48n. 97, 97n. 42, 181, 202n. 69 Pleistarchos, 11n. 48, 172n. 26 Pliny the Elder, 8n. 37, 13n. 64, 72, 72n. 97, 76n. 121, 80, 80n. 147, 174n. 37 Plutarch, 16, 21, 22, 38 politeia, 131, 132, 135 Polybius, 36, 141n. 88, 151, 153, 156, 158n. 196, 160n. 205, 183, 197 Potnia Aswiya, 118 Priansos, 152n. 153, 165 Priene, 34n. 12, 38n. 35, 39n. 39, 48, 83, 84, 166, 171, 183, 204n. 83 proxenia, 14, 27, 136n. 58, 137, 148n. 127, 152, 152n. 148, 199 Psammetichos I, 34 Psammetichos II, 36 Psammetichos III, 36n. 21 Pseudo-Skylax, 10n. 41, 10n. 48 Ptolemaic kingdom, 14, 55n. 137, 56, 133, 158n. 196, 196, 201, 203, 203n. 78 Ptolemy II Philadelphos, 55n. 137, 55n. 142, 136 Ptolemy III Euergetes, 136 Ptolemy IV Philopator, 133, 158n. 196, 162, 178n. 59 Ptolemy VI Philometor, 15n. 75 Pylos, 91n. 8 Pylos tablets, 118 Rhadamanthys, 5, 66, 67n. 53, 69n. 66, 71, 73, 73n. 102, 210 foundation of Chios, 73 foundation of Erythrai, 74 tribe at Kaunos, 69, 76 Rhakios, founder of Klaros, 74, 75

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Index Rhea, 81, 85, 86 Rhodes, 10, 12, 13, 14, 14n. 70, 24n. 115, 33, 80, 85, 159, 166, 169, 174, 205n. 89 Bronze Age, 108n. 105, 110n. 118, 111 First Cretan War, 142, 154, 154n. 162 peraia, 10, 10n. 48, 156, 204 siege, 11n. 48, 154 treaty with Hierapytna, 133, 155 treaty with Olous, 134 Salbakos Mountains, 32 Salmakis, 38, 40, 59, 176 inscription, 54n. 133, 59, 69n. 66, 86, 172n. 25, 173–176 Samos, 7, 13, 38n. 35, 39n. 39, 66, 73, 135n. 52, 158n. 196, 166 Sappho, 172n. 21 Saqqara, 36 Sarapis, 203, 204, 204n. 83 Sardis, 65, 97, 114, 200n. 53 Sarpedon, 5, 67n. 53, 72, 210 Anatolian origin, 71–72 and Miletos, 66–67, 73, 91 demes, 72 in Lycia, 54n. 130, 69, 70n. 74, 71, 72, 74 Sarpedoneion, 72, 72n. 93 Scholion on Apollonius Rhodius, 79 Seha River Land, 113, 114, 115, 118 Sekköy, 53, 54, 70n. 78, 156 Seleukid kingdom, 15, 56n. 142, 163n. 225, 193, 195n. 34, 206, 207 official dating formula, 190, 196, 200 Seleukos I, 134, 194n. 30 Seleukos II, 146, 156, 157n. 193 liberation of Mylasa, 156, 157, 158n. 195 liberation of Smyrna, 158n. 195 Seljuks, 16n. 82 Semiramis. See Assyria: Ninos and Semiramis Sidon, 12 Sinuri, 157 Smyrna, 22n. 107, 38n. 35, 39n. 41, 109, 136n. 56, 158n. 195 social memory, 62, 64, 65, 89, 94, 96 rituals, 123n. 208, 172 St Paul, 12 Stephanus of Byzantium, 6, 6n. 27, 32n. 2, 35, 50n. 109, 54, 69, 69n. 70, 70, 80, 98n. 46, 138n. 69, 206n. 97 Strabo, 7, 61, 65, 70n. 74, 76, 77, 84, 98, 154n. 162, 172, 176 discussion of barbarophōnoi, 42–45 on Caria, 4, 7, 32, 32n. 2, 53, 55, 70, 134, 138, 138n. 69 on Crete, 5, 11, 13, 15, 151

on the kouretes, etc., 82, 86, 87n. 206 on the Leleges, 57–58, 58n. 156 Stratonikeia, 53, 54, 54n. 130, 56, 56n. 142, 125n. 8, 133, 138n. 68, 201n. 54 anciently called Chrysaoris, 54 epigraphy, 146 Macedonian settlement, 55n. 137, 134 Sulla, 22n. 107 Sybrita, 125, 132, 162n. 219 Euthybios from Sybrita, 125, 199 sympoliteia, 59n. 159, 157, 157n. 192, 172n. 20, 192 syngeneia. See kinship, terminology synoikism, 57, 197–199 Tabai, 32n. 2 Tarhunt, 47n. 92 Tarhuntassa, 114 Tarkasnawa, king of Mira, 97, 114 Tawagalawa Letter, 116–117, 119 Teichiussa, 108 Telchines, 84, 85, 85n. 185, 170 Tenedos, 20n. 96 Teos, 38n. 35, 48n. 97, 124, 132, 150n. 134, 155, 158, 165, 200n. 53 Cretan grants of asylia, 140, 162 synoikism with Lebedos, 197–199 thalassocracy Carian thalassocracy, 7, 7n. 32, 18 of Minos, 1, 4, 7n. 32, 11, 11n. 55, 29, 73, 120, 211 Thaletas, 166, 208n. 101 Theangela, 158n. 196 Thebes, 45, 191n. 8 Theocritus, 172n. 21 Thera, 101, 107n. 103, 121, 121n. 196, 121n. 197, 125n. 8, 170, 203 Carian Thera, 54 Thessaly, 77n. 128, 135, 164, 205n. 89, 207n. 98 Thessalian origins of Magnesia, 76, 77, 164, 169 Thorax, Mount, 78 Thrace, 194n. 28, 204n. 79 Thracians in Athens. See Bendis at Athens Thucydides, 3, 7, 13, 42, 45, 108n. 108, 194 Thyateira, 98 time, conception of, 62 genealogies, 4, 62–63, 210 Tiresias, 75 Tlos, 72, 114n. 154 treaties, 15, 16, 53, 133, 145n. 105, 145n. 107, 149, 153n. 155 between Eumenes II and the Kretan koinon, 133n. 38, 142 between Miletos and Cretan cities, 152, 152n. 151, 186n. 99

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Index Tlos (cont.) Hittite treaties, 113, 115 isopoliteia treaty between Herakleia and Miletos, 183 peace treaty between Hierapytna and Rhodes, 133, 155 peace treaty between Magnesia and Miletos, 171, 183, 185 Trianda, 108n. 105, 111 Triopion, 11n. 55, 13, 13n. 68 Troad, 84n. 183, 114 Troizen, 38, 59, 174 Troy, 7, 77, 97, 97n. 42, 114 Trojan War, 71, 71n. 86, 91, 95 Tudhaliya I/II, 113, 116, 118n. 181 Tudhaliya IV, 114, 114n. 154 Tyre, 13n. 65 Uhhaziti, king of Arzawa, 113, 115, 116 Uluburun shipwreck, 26 Venetians. See Crete, Venetian Candia Vitruvius, 38, 38n. 35, 39n. 39, 41, 59, 176 Wilusa, 113, 114, 115 Xanthos, 72, 72n. 93, 84n. 174, 115n. 154, 196 Kytenian delegation. See Kytenion myth, 70 Xenomedes of Keos, 71n. 83 Xenophon of Ephesos, 13

Yazılıkaya, 20, 20n. 97 Zenon of Crete, 166n. 246 Zenon of Kaunos, 136, 137, 201 archive, 13n. 67, 201 Zenoposeidon. See Zeus: Zeus Osogō/ Zenoposeidon Zeus Zeus Akraios, 86–87, 173, 173n. 32 Zeus Atabyrios, 80, 204 Zeus Basileus. See Basileus, cult of Zeus Bottiaios, 194–195 Zeus Chrysaoreus, 53, 56 Zeus Idrieus, 54n. 132 Zeus Karios, 6, 51, 138, 138n. 67, 202n. 68 Zeus Kretagenes and the Kouretes, 4, 31, 84, 87, 145n. 107, 171, 189, 190, 196, 197, 205, 212 Zeus Kretagenetas and Diktynna, 4, 31, 189, 190–191, 192, 207, 212 Zeus Labraundaios in Egypt, 201 Zeus Labraundos, 16, 22, 82, 140, 158n. 194, 201, 201n. 54, 202 Zeus Osogō/Zenoposeidon, 50, 140, 158n. 194 Zeus Otōrkondeōn. See Otōrkondeis Zeus Panamaros, 82 Zeus Soter, 203n. 78, 204n. 79 Zeus Spalōxos, 82 Zeuxis, 190–191, 192, 197