the historian of Philip and thatAlexander never thought of not continuing an operation already begun – nor does he mention previous operations in Asia or the existence of a Macedonian force in Asia in 334. His account of the events of 336, which determined Alexander’s relations with the Greek states, formally at least, are dealt with so summarily as to be barely intelligible. Consequently the reader, I suspect, is in the dark when, without having heard of the League of Corinth, he is told of ‘the resolutions of the Greeks’. In fact, Alexander’s relations with the Greek states and events in Greece during the expedition are almost entirely neglected. This is to some extent understandable and justifiable, although Persian hopes of transferring the war to Greece in 333 are not fully intelligible without the background of Greek discontent. Indeed, Arrian’s preoccupation with Alexander leads him to treat this important, though admittedly abortive, episode in the war very sketchily. Again, the reader must be curious, one would think, to learn what happened to King Agis of Sparta who vanishes from the pages of Arrian after receiving 30 talents and 10 ships from the Persians, even if we regard the Spartan revolt in 331, as Alexander is said to have regarded it, as ‘an affair of mice’.
Arrian clearly made no attempt to give a comprehensive account of the war, or of its antecedents. We hear only incidentally of the troubles in the Persian empire that preceded Darius’ accession in 336, and every reader must have asked himself the question: ‘Why did the Persians allow Alexander’s forces to cross into Asia unopposed?’ Even after the start of the expedition we hear what the Persians have been planning and doing only when they come into contact with Alexander. It is only on the eve of Issus in November 333 that we are told of Darius’ plans in the preceding months. Arrian deliberately chose to disregardthe Persian background, as Professor Brunt has proved. 11 He was not ignorant of Persian matters; but his method ‘was to follow the movements and describe the activities of Alexander himself’.
Arrian’s portrait of Alexander is in general more open to criticism than his narrative of military operations, partly through his reliance on Ptolemy and Aristobulus. Yet Arrian’s portrait is more than the sum of his sources; for he possesses a distinct personality of his own which we can detect most clearly in his attitude to religion and morals. Many of the characteristics of his Alexander are undeniably true. We can see clearly the qualities which enabled Alexander to maintain for so many years his hold upon his men, the dashing leadership which was expected of a general in his day – although Arrian does not conceal the fact that his officers thought that the king sometimes went too far in hazarding his life – the confidence (seldom disappointed) of success, with which he inspired his troops, and his care for their welfare. We remember how after the victory at the Granicus Alexander ‘showed much concern about the wounded, visiting each, examining their wounds, asking how they were received, and encouraging each to relate, and even boast of, his exploits’. We recall his determination and persistence in many sieges, notably in the face of the desperate resistance by the Tyrians for seven long months, and his courage in adversity, exemplified by his ‘noblest deed’, the refusal to drink the helmetful of water, too little for his troops to share, in the burning heat of the Gedrosian desert – a proof, as Arrian remarks, of his endurance and his generalship. Arrian, too, rightly praises his generous treatment of the defeated Indian rajah Porus – although this was not altogether disinterested –and his compassion for the captured Persian royal family. There are many instances of Alexander’s affection for his friends, particularly his
alter ego
Hephaestion, and his trust in them is portrayed in the