DEMETRIUS THE BESIEGER ON THE NILE Pat Wheatley University of Otago, New Zealand The year 306 BC was perhaps one of the most momentous in the history of Alexander’s Successors. It was the year in which the deadlock that had existed between the dynasts since the famous Peace of 311 was broken in stunning fashion, and the reverberations were profound. The year began with a monumental clash between Demetrius the Besieger, the young and brilliant son of Antigonus the One-Eyed, and Ptolemy Soter, for control of the island of Cyprus. This campaign culminated in a great sea battle at Cyprian Salamis in June, in which Demetrius smashed Ptolemy’s fleet and crippled Egypt’s naval power through clever tactics, and energetic leadership and fighting. For the Antigonids the victory was total. Ptolemy did not linger in Cyprus long enough even to rescue his entourage, but fled without delay to Egypt. Our sources, Plutarch’s Life of Demetrius and Diodorus Siculus’ Library Βook 20, disagree on the number of Ptolemaic ships destroyed. Plutarch asserts that Ptolemy escaped with only eight ships, losing the rest of his fleet, both transport ships and warships, in its entirety,1 but Diodorus’ figures seem more realistic, and one might estimate that Ptolemy escaped with perhaps one fifth of his warships, and at least a proportion of the supply ships.2 Whatever the real tallies, the 1 Plut. Demetr. 16.2-3. Plutarch asserts that 70 warships were captured with their crews, and the rest destroyed; Diod. Sic. 20.52.4 and 6 has 40 warships. On the casualty figures, see Seibert 1969:200-02; a detailed treatment of the Cypriot campaign in Wheatley 2001. 2 But Plut. Demetr. 16.3 is emphatic: … τοῦ δὲ ἐν ὁλκάσι παρορμοῦντος ὄχλου θεραπόντων καὶ φίλων καὶ γυναικῶν, ἔτι δὲ ὅπλων καὶ χρημάτων καὶ μηχανημάτων ἁπλῶς οὐδὲν ἐξέφυγε τὸν Δημήτριον, ἀλλ’ ἔλαβε πάντα καὶ κατήγαγεν εἰς τὸ στρατόπεδον (‘… but of the throng of attendants, friends, and women which lay in the cargo ships close at hand, and further, of all Ptolemy’s arms, money, and war-engines, absolutely nothing escaped Demetrius, but he took everything and brought it safely into his camp’; transl. Perrin 1920, modified). Diodorus’ breakdown of the casualties seems more believable, however, accounting as he does for both ships and soldiers. At least 2 000 troops are unaccounted for; these may have escaped with their master, leaving the baggage and military equipment (and the court retinue) to fall into Demetrius’ hands, as Plutarch relates. Therefore, it is reasonable to speculate that the same proportion of both troopships and warships escaped (c. one fifth = 40+). Some of these may have straggled back to Egypt from other parts of the island in the days following the battle. WHEATLEY 93 price was a high one for the Lagid, who had lost at least 120 warships and 100 supply ships, with 8 000 soldiers, many of his friends, court officials, attendants and perhaps one of his sons who was on board.3 Demetrius’ own losses had been minimal and the cost of the engagement extraordinarily lopsided, so that the victory at Salamis drastically altered the balance of power between the rival dynasts. Certainly, Ptolemy was shattered, but an even more significant outcome of the victory in the overall context of Hellenistic history was Antigonus’ public assumption of the royal title and rank of basileus. The sources agree that when he officially received the news of the victory (after an elaborate and theatrical charade),4 he also bestowed the title on Demetrius, signifying his dynastic intent, and they became the first of the Hellenistic kings.5 The matter the present paper seeks to address is how, in the face of this overwhelming military and propaganda setback, Ptolemy was able to hold Egypt against a vigorous Antigonid invasion attempt in October/ November of the same year. Indeed, the circumstances of this surprising failure on the part of Antigonus and Demetrius to follow up their stunning victory and deliver the knockout blow merit further scrutiny. My intention, then, is to provide a summary of the invasion attempt, some 3 Justin 15.2.7 names Leontiscus, a son of Ptolemy and Thaïs, as one of the prisoners returned by Demetrius to Egypt; on this individual, see Peremans & Van’t Dack 1950:6 no. 14528, with further bibliography. Whether he was already stationed in Salamis with his uncle Menelaus or arrived in his father’s armada is impossible to tell; see also Hill 1940:165 n. 2. 4 Plut. Demetr. 17.2-6 scathingly relates how Demetrius despatched Aristodemus, the arch-flatterer (πρωτεύοντα κολακείᾳ), in reality his senior diplomat, statesman and one of his father’s friends, with the news. The Milesian staged an elaborate pantomime, landing at the Orontes alone and proceeding mutely on foot towards the new capital, gathering a large crowd of worried citizens en route. Antigonus, deeply perturbed, sent numerous courtiers to learn the outcome, but to no avail. Finally, he came to meet the messenger in person: he was hailed as king, and informed that Ptolemy was defeated, Cyprus taken, and 16 800 prisoners held. Testy, but elated, he was acclaimed by the crowd, and an impromptu coronation was staged by his friends. 5 Sources for the assumption of the kingship: Plut. Demetr. 17.2-6; Diod. Sic. 20. 53.1-2; Appian, Syr. 54 with Brodersen 1989:110-12; Justin 15.2.10; Heidelberg Epitome = FGrH 155 F 1.7, with Bauer 1914:54-59 and Wheatley 2013; P. Köln 247 col. I, l.18-27, with Lehman 1988; Oros. 3.23.40; Nepos, Eum. 13.2-3; 1 Macc. 1.7-9. See also Ritter 1965:79-82. Whether this chain of events represented the realisation of a master plan rather than an opportunistic exploitation of good fortune is, of course, highly debatable. 94 WHEATLEY comments on the historiography, an appreciation of the military strategic considerations and theories, and finally, for our understanding of Alexander’s Successors and their time, some analysis of the wider implications of Demetrius the Besieger’s only intrusion into Africa. The course of the invasion It would seem that the news from Cyprus invigorated Antigonus, who had been quietly building his new capital at Antigoneia-on-the-Orontes in northern Syria, and he decided to follow up the victory with a determined effort to crush completely his arch-rival Ptolemy. Accordingly, he summoned Demetrius and his fleet and gathered an enormous army, intending to pursue a double-pronged attack on Egypt by land and sea.6 He was evidently delayed by the death of his younger son Philip, and the preparations and march to Gaza may have taken as long as three months, but Diodorus preserves good chronographic indicators here and the actual attack commenced in the last week of October 306 BC.7 From the beginning there were problems for both the naval and land forces. Near Raphia, about halfway to Egypt, a storm scattered Demetrius’ fleet, wrecking some transports and driving others back to Gaza; nevertheless, he appears to have led most of his warships on to Casium (Casius Mons), some 54 km east of Pelusium on the shore of the spit enclosing the Sirbonian lake. 8 However, this coast is harbourless, and heaving to off the lee shore they were soon in dire straits: three quinqueremes were lost and the whole fleet 6 Sources for the expedition: Diod. Sic. 20.73-76; Plut. Demetr. 19.1-3; Paus. 1.6.6. Modern treatments: Droysen 1952:306-11; Samuel 1962:8-11; Seibert 1969:7-24; Hauben 1975/1976; Andrei & Scuderi 1989:164-67; Billows 1990:162-66; Huß 2001:185-87; Caroli 2007:62-63; Champion 2014:124-29. Antigonus mustered 80 000 infantry, 8 000 cavalry and 83 elephants, while Demetrius commanded 150 warships and 100 transports; cf. Diod. Sic. 20.73.1-2. 7 Diod. Sic. 20.73-74.1; cf. Plut. Demetr. 19.2. Two indicators are given: the campaign is placed in the new archon year of Coroebus (306/305) and thus occurred after August; the astronomical phenomenon of the setting of the Pleiades, which unsettled the ships’ pilots, coincided with the march from Gaza. The Pleiades are commonly thought to set on 1 November and usher in the stormy winter season. 8 Modern Ras Qasrun, near Katib el-Gals in the centre of the Lake Bardawil sandbar in Egypt; see Stern et al. 1993:4:1393-94 map 70, C3; Verreth 2006. The site was known to Herodotus, cf. 2.6.1, 158.4 and also later writers: Diod. Sic. 1.30.4; Pliny, HN 5.14.68; Jos. BJ 4.11.5 661; cf. Milton’s Paradise Lost 2.592-94; for the dangerous nature of this coast, see Strabo 16.2.26 C758. WHEATLEY 95 was barely saved from disaster by the abatement of the storm and the arrival of Antigonus with the army. The latter had also suffered difficulties in the infamous Barathra region of quicksand and swamp, but the expedition forged on and encamped about 400 metres from the Pelusiac branch of the Nile.9 At this point, they encountered the enemy. Despite his catastrophic losses at Salamis, Ptolemy’s preparations had been thorough. He occupied the west bank of the river, garrisoned all strategic points, and had equipped a vast number of river boats with soldiers and ordnance to repel any attempts by Antigonus to cross. He also deployed a clever stratagem by inveigling Antigonus’ mercenaries to change sides with promises of rich rewards for those who would come over to him. This strategy met with some success, as Antigonus was forced to take drastic steps to stem the erosion of his army.10 Meanwhile, Demetrius was despatched with his reassembled fleet to land troops in the delta and turn the defences, evidently with the plan that he could divert the Ptolemaic forces and give his father the opportunity to cross the river with the main army. He sailed as far as Pseudostoma, one of the so-called ‘false mouths’ of the Nile, some 105 km west of Pelusium,11 but found that landing strongly defended, and retraced his steps some 27 km by night to the Phatnitic mouth of the Nile.12 However, numerous ships had lost contact with the flagship in the night, and whilst Demetrius attempted to round up the stragglers, Ptolemy was able to draw up his army on the beaches and make any landings again unfeasible. Stymied by the vigorous and efficient defences, Demetrius was left with little choice but to retrace his course to Antigonus’ camp. Even so, he was caught again by a strong north wind and three more quadriremes and some transports were wrecked on the lee shore. The tactics had failed, and Antigonus found himself locked out of Egypt, with supplies for his huge army failing and morale ebbing. He was, doubtless, mindful of Perdiccas’ fiasco some 15 years earlier and, rather than force the issue and risk catastrophic losses, 9 On the dangerous Barathra (‘Pits’) region between the Sirbonian lake and the sea, see Diod. Sic. 1.30.1-9; 16.46.4-5; Strabo 17.1.21 C803. 10 Diod. Sic. 20.73.1-3. Some would-be deserters were tortured as a deterrent to others, and the riverbank had to be guarded by archers, slingers and catapults to drive off Ptolemy’s boats. Apparently a large number of men did take Ptolemy’s offers: Diod. Sic. 20.76.7. 11 On the location of this channel, see Barrington Atlas, map 74 F2, with Toussoun 1922:43-44; Yoyotte & Charvet 1997:108-09. 12 Diod. Sic. 20.75.4-76.1. 96 WHEATLEY called a council of his generals and put the choice to them of prosecuting the war further or withdrawing to Syria, with the promise of returning even better prepared and at a more felicitous time. The choice of retreating seems to have been embraced with enthusiasm, and the Antigonid forces returned to Syria without incident, probably during December.13 Historiographic comments The most striking feature of the sources is the minute detail preserved in Diodorus’ text (20.73-76) and there can only be one inference. The narrative, as is commonly thought, must derive from an eye-witness account by Hieronymus of Cardia himself, who is quite likely to have actually been with Demetrius and the fleet ever since the battle of Salamis.14 I have hypothesised elsewhere that sections of Diodorus’ book frequently appear to be first-hand.15 For example, the ‘live’ battle scenes of Paraetacene, Gabiene, Gaza and Salamis are described in very similar fashion, probably deriving from Hieronymus’ standard battle description blueprint.16 The description of Demetrius’ voyage and landing attempts correspond closely to these, and it is reasonable to suggest he was with the Besieger and transmitted the details in his lengthy memoirs. Other characteristics also reinforce this analysis. An astronomic pointer, the setting of the Pleiades, with its effect on the sanguinity of the helmsmen, is reiterated and Plutarch echoes this unease with the anecdote of Medius’ dream.17 The employment of such astronomical phenomena, both to set tone and to provide chronographic pegs, is a typical Hieronymean device, evident throughout Books 18-20 of Diodorus.18 The minute detail of the voyage is also striking. Precise information regarding sailing times, the itinerary, weather, sea conditions, navigation and seamanship, hardships, shipwrecks, proximity of the fleet to shore and the army to the Nile, and details of the 13 Samuel 1962:9 asserts that the withdrawal could not have been accomplished before the end of January 305, keying the events of the campaign to Ptolemy’s assumption of the kingship. However, this seems too late, considering Antigonus’ problems with supplies and the speedy nature of the retreat; cf. Diod. Sic. 20.76.4, 6; it seems more reasonable to suggest Antigonus had already left Egypt by January; cf. Seibert 1969:221-22. 14 Hornblower 1981:220. 15 Wheatley 2001:146-47. 16 Diod. Sic. 19.30, 42.1-43.2, 83.3-84.8; 20.51.1-52.2. 17 Diod. Sic. 20.73.3-74.1; cf. Plut. Demetr. 19.2. 18 See, for instance Diod. Sic. 19.18.2, 37.3, 56.5; 20.5.5; cf. Justin 22.6.1. WHEATLEY 97 resistance encountered are all provided, along with some unique cameos such as the torture of would-be deserters, the night return from Pseudostoma and the wait for stragglers at the Phatnitic mouth of the Nile.19 Finally, the outcome of the army’s council deliberations are tell-tale ‘inner sanctum’ snippets, reminiscent of the stormy leadership meetings held by Eumenes with the Silver Shields and the eastern satraps during the Second Diadoch war, and in the same vein as the descriptions of life incarcerated with Eumenes in the fortress at Nora in 319/318, the ‘Alexander tent’ stratagem, or the Nabataean expeditions in 312/311.20 The only hiccup in the narrative is the failure to change subject at 20.75.4, giving the impression that Antigonus himself sailed to Pseudostoma with the fleet, but this must surely be attributed to carelessness in Diodorus’ abbreviation of Hieronymus.21 As for the peripheral sources, Plutarch and Pausanias supply only a bare-bones summary, perhaps gleaned from Diodorus himself by the first century AD.22 Plutarch has embellished things – probably from another genre of writing – with the anecdote of Medius’ dream, but is mainly concerned to continue justifying his portrait of Demetrius as the flawed character, eminently comparable to Antony, with another example of the fruitlessness of his endeavours and their consequences in human terms: Πολλὰς δὲ τῶν νεῶν ἀπολέσαντος, ἐπανῆλθεν ἄπρακτος Losing many of his ships, he returned without accomplishing anything.23 19 Time: Diod. Sic. 20.74.1; itinerary: 20.74.1-2, 75.4-5, 76.1; weather: 20.74.1, 76.2; sea conditions: 20.74.3, 76.2; navigation and seamanship: 20.74.3, 76.2; hunger and thirst: 20.74.3, 76.4; shipwrecks: 20.74.5, 76.2; positions of fleet and army: 20.74.3 and 5; resistance: 20.75.4; torture of deserters: 20.75.3; night return and wait for stragglers: 20.75.5. 20 Nora: Diod. Sic. 18.41-42; cf. Justin 14.2.2-4; with Yardley, Wheatley & Heckel 2011:171-74. Alexander tent: Diod. Sic. 18.60.4-61.3; cf. Plut. Eum. 13.4; Nepos, Eum. 7.2; with Anson 2004:150-52; Nabataean expeditions and digression: Diod. Sic. 19.94-100.3; cf. 2.48; Plut. Demetr. 7.1-2; with Bosworth 2002:187-209. 21 So Billows 1990:164 n. 3. 22 Plut. Demetr. 19.1-3; Paus. 1.6.6. If Dion. Hal. De Comp. Verb 4.30 is correct in asserting that Hieronymus’ history was virtually unreadable on account of its length and detail; possibly by the time of Plutarch scholars were already using Diodorus’ transmission rather than the original. 23 Summed up in the Synkrisis 4.6: συνελόντι δὲ εἰπεῖν, Ἀντώνιος μὲν ἑαυτὸν διὰ τὴν ἀκρασίαν, Δημήτριος δὲ ἄλλους ἠδίκησε (‘In a word, Antony wronged himself 98 WHEATLEY Plutarch is also, of course, delighted to showcase one of his recurrent themes in the Demetrius/Antony pairing here: the mutability of human fortune. At one moment Demetrius is at his peak with unprecedented military success, resulting in the ultimate reward of the royal title, and next he is floundering at the edge of calamity off the harbourless coast of the Nile delta. Plutarch loves this, and his joy is evident at being able to include this fiasco in the litany of critical observations that comprise his parallel biographies of Demetrius and Antony. Analysis: the ramifications of the campaign The failure of the Antigonid attempt on Egypt is quite puzzling, even amongst the anomalies of the Diadoch wars. How is it possible that a dynast, so comprehensively beaten and lucky to escape in June, could resist invasion by an overwhelming force five months later? I believe we can consider this a case-study, which can be applied to deepen our understanding of the Diadoch era. Two matters need to be addressed. 1. The centralist-separatist model The so-called centralist-separatist model is the usual vehicle for an understanding of the Diadoch era.24 It has generally been thought that some of Alexander’s successors aspired to re-forging the Macedonian conquests into a single entity and establishing themselves as a new ruling dynasty over an ‘Über-Macedonian Empire’ (so to speak), while others were satisfied to carve a slice of the dominions and rule a separate selfcontained kingdom – usually on the periphery. Retrospectively, the dynasts sort themselves quite naturally into this model: Lysimachus, Peithon, Peucestas and especially Ptolemy fall into the separatist category. However, Perdiccas, and especially the Antigonids, always appear to have by his excesses, Demetrius wronged others’; transl. Perrin 1920); cf. Diod. Sic. 19.80.1-2, the pursuit of Ptolemy’s forces to Cilicia in 313-312, with Wheatley 2009:331-32; Plut. Demetr. 40.3-4 on the siege of Thebes in 291-90. For discussion of this topos, see Hornblower 1981:226-32; Pelling 1988:19-20; and the scathing summation of Billows 1990:164. 24 For early bibliography, see Lund 1992:51-52, who prefers the terms ‘unitaristparticularist’; cf. on this Bosworth 2000:228; Yardley, Wheatley & Heckel 2011:243-44; and now Strootman 2014. WHEATLEY 99 aimed for unification and to inherit fully Alexander’s hegemony.25 We might say that Antipater, and later Cassander, were special cases, as rule of the Macedonian homeland itself carried its own peculiar advantages, prestige and also problems, yet if the centralist-separatist model is adhered to, they also must certainly be placed in the latter category.26 Now, this traditional model has been challenged more recently, with some newer scholars such as Strootman, Meeus and Lund vigorously questioning its validity.27 However, I would argue that the Antigonid attempt on Egypt in late 306 actually reifies the traditional mode of analysis. The discussion is essentially geographical. Antigonus held the heartland – Anatolia, the Levant and Greece, and his strategy would seem quite simple: isolate and eliminate his peripheral rivals one by one, and bring the separatist dominions back into the fold. The initial mobilisations were stunningly successful: Demetrius took Athens and truncated Cassander’s influence in Greece after his expedition of 307. In the following year he sliced off Cyprus, a traditional and vital sphere of Ptolemaic influence, and established a thalassocracy in the eastern Mediterranean. The scene was set to deliver a knockout blow to one of the rivals. It failed miserably. The separatist Ptolemy, though at a terrible disadvantage, adroitly defended his satrapy against overwhelming force and turned it into a kingdom in the aftermath. The reservoir of ordnance, finance and strategic advantage of the centralist Antigonids came to nought. How to explain this? The answer, I believe, comes under the aegis of the second matter that I want to discuss, and here I (somewhat perversely) move from traditional scholarship to revisionism myself. 2. Antigonus’ generalship In studies of the Antigonids, traditional wisdom has it that Demetrius the Besieger is the weak link in the chain of command. He is the flawed character, at once a lush in his personal life, and showy, but without 25 Nepos, Eum. 2.3-4; Plut. Eum. 12.1; Diod. Sic. 18.50.2; cf. 20.37.4. This perception of Antigonid ambitions has been strengthened by the discovery of a papyrus from Köln no. 247, col. I lines 18-27, on which see Lehman 1988; Billows 1990:351-52; Bosworth 2002:246-47. 26 Cassander hopes just for the Macedonian kingdom: Diod. Sic. 19.52.1. 27 Lund 1992:51-52; Meeus 2009:64-65 n. 4 supplies a useful mise au point; cf. Cloché 1959:16-17; Strootman 2014; Meeus 2013 and 2014. 100 WHEATLEY substance in his professional life.28 We have plenty of data. His career began inauspiciously, well beaten at the battle of Gaza late in 312 by the experienced Ptolemy and Seleucus and shortly afterwards outsmarted, first by the Nabataean Arabs and then by Patrocles in Babylonia.29 He has a successful period from c. 309-306, but then come the futile efforts on the Nile delta we have been examining. From here it is downhill: the wasteful fiasco at Rhodes from 305-304, the erratic behaviour in Athens from 304302, a puzzling failure to overrun Cassander in 302, and the crowning moment: the debacle at Ipsus, where received wisdom has Demetrius’ intemperate pursuit of Antiochus’ cavalry directly responsible for losing the greatest battle of the age since Gaugamela, and getting his father killed to boot!30 But this whole litany of events may be debated, and pitched another way. We must look to the source, and it is my belief that we are snowed by Plutarch. Plutarch’s Demetrius is a carefully assembled document, designed not so much to pervert our perceptions of Demetrius as to compile a portrait of the Besieger that quietly amplifies the pernicious construction of Antony! It must be remembered that these are Parallel Lives. Plutarch bequeaths to us a distorted Demetrius, whose flaws are amplified, yet understandable within the context of his own culture and time, in order to present an utterly reprehensible and derelict Marc Antony, for whom, being a Roman, there is no excuse whatsoever. But we must not be misled: Plutarch loves neither Antony nor Demetrius, and his pairing here should probably be viewed in an even wider context as a set of lives to offset the laudatory Alexander-Caesar pair, or the ironic Sertorius-Eumenes pairing. The trouble for the historian is that it is too easy to swallow Plutarch. The analysis of this paper, which has coalesced out of scrutiny of the Egyptian expedition, is that the ultimate failure of the Antigonids actually comes not so much from the bungling of 28 Plutarch chronicles this with considerable finesse; see, for instance, the sequence of Demetr. 23-29; cf. 19.10; 42. The portrait is embedded in the sources, as is evident from Diodorus 20.92. There are no specific treatments of Demetrius’ life in recent scholarship, though his exploits are entwined with works on Antigonus; see, for instance, Wehrli 1968:137-220; Billows 1990:136-86. 29 Diod. Sic. 19.97; 100.3-7. 30 Rhodes: Diod. Sic. 20.81-88, 91-99; Athens: Plut. Demetr. 23-27; Cassander: Diod. Sic. 20.110.4-6); Ipsus: Plut. Demetr. 28-29. WHEATLEY 101 Demetrius, but from the lacklustre generalship and questionable strategic vision of Antigonus himself.31 Consider this: Antigonus never learns, but thinks force majeure is the answer. When on top, there is little subtlety. In 319 he maltreats the body of Alcetas and imprisons Attalus, Polemon and Docimus; and after the great victory over Cleitus the White on the Hellespont in 318, he is deemed a military genius.32 As soon as the Argyraspides turned Eumenes over to him in January 316, he wasted no time in burning Antigenes alive in a pit, deposing Peucestas, executing Eumenes and Eudamus, and soon after Peithon, son of Crateuas, and finally forcing even Seleucus to flee.33 But this is the point at which he is on top of his game. From 315 on, I would suggest, it was all downhill for Antigonus. He handled his talented nephews, Polemaeus and Telesphorus, very badly in 313-312, and eventually the former defected to Ptolemy.34 His shadowy campaign in Babylonia against Seleucus from 310-308 ended ignominiously with his defeat and withdrawal in similar circumstances to the Egyptian campaign.35 The attack on Rhodes, ordered by Antigonus in 305, was a strategic blunder and a tremendous propaganda setback, as was the recall of Demetrius from Thessaly in 302 and the arrogant demand for Cassander’s unconditional surrender.36 His final campaign against Lysimachus, prior to Ipsus, though fought with determination and vigour, was well countered by his equally determined, wily, younger and lucky opponent.37 As for Ipsus itself, well, obviously on that field Antigonus was fatally outsmarted. This brief catalogue surely demonstrates that the powers of Antigonus were in decline from 315, and an excerpt from Polyaenus’ Strategems 4.6.5 is insightful in contrasting his genius, when fighting against the odds, with his relative lack of energy when fielding strong forces. I would suggest, in fact, that we should not be so hasty to judge Demetrius as incompetent, 31 Hornblower 1981:219-21 arrives at similar conclusions, while Billows 1990: 164 follows the traditional line of blaming Demetrius; but see now Champion 2014:128-29. 32 Diod. Sic. 18.45.3, 47.3, 73.1; 19.16. 33 Diod. Sic. 19.46.1, 3; Polyaenus, Strat. 4.6.14. 34 Diod. Sic. 20.27.3. Polemaeus probably felt insecure in the preferment of his cousin Demetrius from 312 onwards; either way, Antigonus managed the family clumsily. 35 On this campaign, see Wheatley 2002. 36 Diod. Sic. 20.106.2. 37 Diod. Sic. 20.109. 102 WHEATLEY but should look behind him to assess the strategic thinking and execution of Antigonus; perhaps we should have in mind the paradigm of Philip and Alexander in reverse. Indeed, the Egyptian expedition should be regarded as a prime example. Antigonus’ preparations are meticulous, but his huge force is inappropriate for this sort of task, or for crossing the legendarily difficult terrain separating Egypt from Idumaea, unless of course he hoped his show of force would simply intimidate the Lagid into surrender.38 But, given his track record in the treatment of captured enemies, as we have seen, this would seem a forlorn hope. And the large mass of troops proved a logistic burden, even when he reached the river. Antigonus would have been well aware that his other rivals, Cassander and Seleucus, were fully occupied elsewhere (one in the far eastern satrapies, and one attempting to reassert hegemony over Greece), and while one might observe that ‘striking while the iron is hot’ is a good policy, the lateness of the season for campaigning – remarked on by all the sources – coupled with the high level of the Nile, was a serious risk factor, especially for the naval arm, which Antigonus probably considered to be his trump card.39 Also, he had not reckoned with Ptolemy’s clever stratagem of enticing deserters: it is likely that the Antigonid forces included a good proportion of soldiers and sailors who had been captured in Cyprus a few months earlier, and may have been glad of an opportunity to return to Ptolemy’s service and their lives in Egypt. Finally, we might observe that Antigonus had never travelled far with Alexander. Ptolemy had. Alexander circumvented difficulties with exceptional skill and energy, including the crossing of large rivers: the Danube in 335, the Granicus in 334, the Tigris (though undefended), the Oxus, the Jaxartes and, of course, most famously the Hydaspes. Some crossings required special equipment, such as jury-rigged flotation devices – skins stuffed with grasses (Danube, Oxus, Jaxartes), one (the Granicus) a kamikaze squad, and some, such as the Hydaspes, an elaborate stratagem. At the Nile Antigonus appears to have deployed no innovative tactics, nor even a determined assault. Why, for instance, did he not attempt an opportunistic crossing while Ptolemy was facing Demetrius at the Phatnitic mouth? Of course, the horrific memory of Perdiccas’ expedition in 321 or 320, where 2 000 troops were lost in the river crossing and 38 Billows 1990:163. Though Hornblower 1981:220 makes a good point that Antigonus may have reasoned that the high level of the Nile would actually facilitate the passage of Demetrius’ large warships. 39 WHEATLEY 103 eaten by crocodiles and hippopotamuses, will have weighed on him; some veterans from that disaster may well have still been in his army. 40 In fact, one might further speculate on Antigonus’ whole plan de campagne at the Nile. Seibert asserts that he planned a direct assault by land across the delta on Alexandria itself, as opposed to the more traditional strategy of besieging Pelusium or following the east bank of the Pelusiac Nile south to Memphis.41 While Pelusium was known to be heavily fortified by land and sea, it seems quite incredible that no assault at all was attempted, though perhaps Antigonus had thought to emulate Pharnabazus and Iphicrates’ strategy against Nectanebos in 374/373 BC, and seek ingress to Egypt through another mouth.42 At the very least, it seems lethargic of the OneEyed to stake success solely on Demetrius’ naval endeavours. Again one wonders: why did he not attempt a crossing or assault on Pelusium while Ptolemy was defending the delta further west? The successful fourpronged assault by Artaxerxes III in 343 springs to mind as a precedent.43 Of course, our sources may be incomplete and there is much we cannot know, but by any measure, Antigonus’ actions seem unimaginative if not lacklustre. As to the question of whether seagoing vessels could be successfully deployed in the delta, this is comprehensively answered by historical precedent: triremes are recorded operating in the rivers and canals of Egypt during various invasions in 460, 374, 343 and 332 BC. Both Hauben and Billows have attempted to clarify Antigonus’ strategy, and convincingly ruled out Seibert’s hypothesis that Antigonus intended to cross the delta direct to Alexandria.44 At any rate, mindful of Perdiccas’ fate – and this is perhaps the cleverest thing Antigonus did here – he consulted his council for a consensus before deciding to withdraw, and at 40 Diod. Sic. 18.33-6; Frontinus 4.7.20; Strabo 17.1.8 C794. Seibert 1969:210-11; see also the map at 223. Cf. Thuc. 1.104.2, 109.4 and Diod. Sic. 11.77.2-3 on the 460 BC Athenian expedition to aid Inaros in his revolt against Artaxerxes II; Diod. Sic. 15.42 on Pharnabazus and Iphicrates’ campaign against Nectanebos in 374/373 BC; Diod. Sic. 16.49.1-6 on Lacrates the Theban’s siege of 343 BC; Arr. Anab. 3.1.3-4 on Alexander’s garrisoning Pelusium and sending a fleet up to Memphis in 332 BC; Hauben 1975/1976:269. On the later expedition of Antiochus IV in the Sixth Syrian war in 168 BC, cf. Livy 45.12.1-2; Polyb. 29.27; Diod. Sic. 31.2; and Mithridates I of Pergamum’s expedition to relieve Caesar in 48/47 BC. For an exhaustive analysis of attempts to invade Egypt from the seventh to fourth centuries BC, see Kahn & Tammuz 2008. 42 Diod. Sic. 15.42.1-4, in that case the Mendesian. 43 Diod. Sic. 16.40.3-6, 46.4-51; with Kahn & Tammuz 2008:64-65. 44 Hauben 1975/1976; Billows 1990:164-65. 41 104 WHEATLEY least extricated himself without major losses. Perhaps it is no coincidence that Plutarch completes his treatment of the Egyptian expedition with sharp observations on Antigonus’ advancing age, obesity, and declining health and fitness for active campaigning.45 This leads us back to the centralist-separatist theme: how can the events at the Nile in November 306 inform us on this matter? In the ruck (or should we call it a rolling maul?) at Babylon, of the marshals present, only Perdiccas wanted the whole pie. Cornelius Nepos tells us: Cogitabat enim, quod fere omnes in magnis imperiis concupiscunt, omnium partis corripere atque complecti. It was his design to do what almost all who hold great power aspire to, namely, seize the shares of all the others and unite them.46 The others, aside perhaps from Leonnatus, were initially pleased with just a satrapy, which they viewed as a just reward for services rendered to the crown; some (Ptolemy) were pickier than others, but in general the more powerful marshals received the plum satrapies.47 By the time of the second satrapy distribution at Triparadeisus in 321 or 320, the field had thinned slightly, or at least, three major players had been eliminated: Perdiccas, Leonnatus and Craterus.48 It is at this point that Antigonus became noticeable and received his first powerful commission: as strategos autokrator to mop up the Perdiccan party.49 The aged Antipater was dead by 319, and in the aftermath of the Second Diadoch War, only three rivals to Antigonus’ power remained: Cassander, Lysimachus and Ptolemy.50 It seems to me that the old model of the Antigonids holding the central ground, and trying to pick off their rivals piecemeal, while the other dynasts consolidate and fortify their satrapies, still holds true, and there is strong evidence for this.51 Certainly, the separatists made occasional 45 Plut. Demetr. 19.4. Nepos, Eum. 2.3, transl. Rolfe. 47 Aside from Ptolemy, Peithon took Media, Lysimachus Thrace, Leonnatus Hellespontine Phrygia, Peucestas Persis. See, most recently, with earlier bibliography, Yardley, Wheatley & Heckel 2011:86-119. 48 For details, see, conveniently, Heckel 2006:99, 150, 202. 49 Diod. Sic. 18.39.7; cf. 18.50.1-2. 50 Diod. Sic. 19.57.1; at this stage we may ignore the fugitive Seleucus and the defeated Polyperchon. 51 Above, note 25; but cf. note 27. 46 WHEATLEY 105 expedient incursions, and attempted to establish buffer zones, but they always retreated at the spectre of major confrontation: Cassander from Caria and Lysimachus from Hellespontine Phrygia in 313/312, Ptolemy from Coelê-Syria in 311, and from Greece in 308. Their underpinning strategies were reactive and defensive. By the same token, Antigonus was never able to deliver a fatal blow to his rivals individually: Babylonia was defended in 310-308, and Egypt, as we have seen, in 306, Macedonia, barely, in 302. Resolution was only ever to come in this stalemate when the separatists formed a coalition. Even so, the first coalition of 315 only eventuated in a draw by the Peace of 311; but the second coalition of 302 was startlingly successful, as was the third coalition against Demetrius in 289/288, which led to his expulsion from Macedonia and eventual demise.52 I must put a rider on my assertion of the validity of the centralistseparatist model, though, by observing that it must not be frozen in time, but allowed to evolve. Those who, in 323 and 321, were junior players in the game had developed somewhat by 306, 301, 287 and 282. The ranks of the ‘second-class generals’ (as Hornblower terms them) had been drastically thinned, but surviving knights had become rooks; pawns had become queens. It cannot be denied that putative ‘separatists’ such as Seleucus, Lysimachus and Ptolemy were themselves eventually seduced by the Antigonid dream, and for them, also, it morphed into nightmare just as quickly. The foregoing short analysis of the sole incursion the Antigonids made into Africa has attempted to demonstrate that they followed a pattern that is irreversibly embedded in our conceptions of the Diadoch period. Here I reify the traditional. But, in so doing I have surprised myself by reaching – reluctantly (and inadvertently) – the conclusion that the much-vaunted Antigonus was not the brilliant general and strategist scholars have thought him to be: in fact, for the last twelve years of his life, quite the reverse. The corollary is how then shall we evaluate the supposedly flawed, erratic and incompetent Demetrius? Perhaps here I must become the revisionist. 52 Plut. Demetr. 44. 106 WHEATLEY Bibliography Andrei, O. & Scuderi, R. et al. 1989. 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