Dear Reader,

Once upon a time, in an ancient land, wrote Herodotus (484-425 BC) in his TheHistories (430 BC), there was a custom that if an important decision was to be made in a group, it would have to be discussed drunk. The following day, “the master of the house where the discussion was held submits their decision for reconsideration when they are sober. If they still approve it, it is adopted, if not, it is abandoned. Conversely, any decision they make when they are sober, is reconsidered afterwards when they are drunk.” (section 133 of The Histories Book I by Herodotus).

The man considered “The Father of History” was referring to the customs of ancient Persians. As a pioneer in the craft of writing history, Herodotus took enormous liberties with facts (which made for very entertaining reading), but we can be more or less certain about the veracity of this account, because its writer was well-accustomed with the Persian ways, having lived in a Greek city, Halicarnassus, that was under Persian rule, and at the height of Persian power.

The little custom Herodotus mentioned spoke volumes about the kind of liberated, open-minded, rational and enlightened society that ancient Persia was. He further wrote, “They (Persians) consider telling lies more disgraceful than anything else, and, next to that, owing money. There are many reasons for their horror of debt, but the chief is their conviction that a man who owes money is bound also to tell lies (The Histories Book I, section 138). It was a proud and honourable civilisation.

Persia’s era of greatness—unparalleled in its combination of cultural sophistication, artistic elegance, and military might—began with king Cyrus (590/600-530 BC) and the Achaemenid dynasty that ruled Persia for nearly 200 years (550-330 BC). Cyrus, one of the greatest figures of ancient times, combined able statesmanship with tremendous military prowess to establish the beginning of the golden period of ancient Persia. Herodotus gives a detailed account of his birth and childhood, much of which reads like a dark fairy tale—an insecure king troubled by a dream about his grandson usurping him; a babe left in the woods to die, but rescued and reared by a rough but kindly rustic couple; subsequently reunited with his royal family to carry out his prophesied destiny etc—but we won’t get into such apocryphal details, and stick to historical facts (as much as is available).

Having wrested the kingdom from the weakening grasp of the Medes, Cyrus expanded the boundaries of Persia, conquering large tracts of land in western Asia, including Assyria, Babylonia, Lydia, Sardis, Asia Minor, and established one of the most efficient systems of governance over a vast land. But what was most unique was, that unlike a typical ruthless expansionist, he was “the most amiable of conquerors who founded his empire upon generosity” (The Story of Civilization: Part 1—Our Oriental Heritage by Will Durant). He was kind to the vanquished, allowed them to freely pray to their gods, and preserved their own culture and practices, believed in plurality, and integrated various cultures into the broader Persian society. He himself made it a point to pay obeisance to the gods of the conquered, which endeared him even to those who suffered defeat at his hand. “Like Napoleon he accepted indifferently all religions, and—with much better grace—humoured all the gods.”

However, he was also overly ambitious, and sometimes capable of extreme cruelty. It was his ambition that ultimately handed him his only defeat in battle and killed him. Pushing inexorably into central Asia, he met a formidable opponent in Tomyris, the fierce queen of Massagetae. Enraged at Cyrus for having killed her son in battle, she set upon the Persian army with relentless fury, defeating and killing its seemingly invincible king in 530 BC.

Cyrus was succeeded by his son Cambyses (reign 530-522), who had inherited only his father’s vast kingdom and not the sagacious temperament to rule it. Cambyses’ successor’s identity remains shrouded in mystery. According to some historical sources, including Herodotus, the Persian throne was briefly occupied by a magus impersonating Cyrus’s younger son, Smerdis, who was believed to have been killed by Cambyses. However, it was the next man who ascended the throne, who truly deserved the sobriquet “King of Kings”—Darius the Great (reign 522-486 BC), arguably the greatest monarch of the ancient world.

Under his rule, the Persian empire reached its pinnacle, covering an area that included Egypt, Syria, Palestine, Phoenicia, Phrygia, Lydia, Ionia, Cilicia, Cappadocia, Armenia, Assyria, what we now call Afghanistan, Balochistan, Sogdiana, Bactria, all the way to the west of the Indus. “Never before had history recorded so extensive an area brought under one government,” wrote Durant.

Like Cyrus, Darius ruled with generosity and empathy, and encouraged a tolerant, multi-cultural society. Persia soon emerged as a seat of culture and sophistication. Persepolis, the capital of the Achaemenid empire, was the symbol of grandeur and might. Darius implemented administrative measures far ahead of his time. He established an efficient bureaucracy for de-centralised control of his vast empire, introduced a standardised form of taxation, and a uniform currency—the Gold Daric. By building roads and improving connectivity, he facilitated commerce, and maintained law and order through a codified legal system. In short, Persia was the centre of the civilised world.

After Darius, there were nine more “King of Kings” who ruled Persia. Some were competent; some were disastrous as rulers. There were failed attempts at invading Greece, and revolts in conquered lands—particularly, Egypt, Cyprus, Phoenicia and others; there were also remarkable strategic victories in foreign policies, like Persia’s role in the Greek Corinthian war, under the shrewd leadership of King Artaxerxes II (reign 405-359 BC), because of which several Greek cities were gained by Persia. But through it all the power and prestige of Persia prevailed... until a young 26 year old king from the rugged terrain of Macedonia, proclaiming himself the son of Zeus, resolved to outdo his mythical step-brother Heracles, and set off to conquer the world. In 330 BC he defeated Darius III and ended the glorious Achaemenid empire.

But Alexander never wanted to destroy any civilisation; he was, after all, tutored by one of the greatest minds in history, Aristotle. In fact, after defeating Darius, so overwhelmed was he by the grandeur of Persia, that he himself adopted some of the ways of his fallen foes.

However, 2,356 years later, another powerful ruler with Caligula-like delusions threatened to end a civilisation whose legacy continues despite the vicissitudes of time and the whims of history. Frustrated at Iran’s refusal to lie on its back and accept defeat in a war he started, on April 7 he warned on social media: “A whole civilization will die tonight, never to ​be brought back ​again. I don’t want that ‌to ⁠happen, but it probably will.” It did not happen; and nor will it. That mad ruler now perhaps realises that it is not possible to kill a civilisation, when it has the full weight of history behind it.

Till I see you again,

Suhrid Sankar Chattopadhyay

Associate Editor, Frontline

This article is part of Frontline’s monthly newsletter “Once Upon a Time”. Subscribe to receive stories from history delivered to your inbox every month.